Joke thread

HorlocksWalk said:
Andrew Mountbatten Windsor is driving round Sandringham in the Range Rover and cos his mind is on all his troubles, he does not see the corgi run out in front of him. He steps out to see he has run it over and thinks "Bloody hell, that was one of mum's favourites. I will be in even more shite now". At the side of the road he sees an old lamp and he picks it up and gives it a quick buff and out pops a genie. "What is your desire oh master" The Genie ignored his first couple of the grounds of legality then Andrew requested that he brought the corgi back to life.
"But master it is too mangled to be brought back to life, it has been round both wheel arches and you panicked and reversed over it"

"Oh well says Andrew", pulling out his wallet and showing the genie a picture of his ex wife."I wish that you make her beautiful" he requests.

"Lets have a look at that corgi again" replies the genie.
Click to expand...
His ex is looking more like Zelda from the Terrahawks every day!!
 
SCEtoAUX said:
Once upon a time in a small, sleepy town, there lived a boy named Bobby. Bobby was an ordinary sort of lad — scuffed knees, perpetually untied shoelaces, and a head full of grand ideas that usually ended in minor disasters. But Bobby had one thing that made him quite extraordinary: a pet maggot.


Now, most people, when they hear “pet maggot,” react with a shudder or a “yuck,” but not Bobby. To Bobby, this little wriggly creature was a marvel of nature, a tiny, pale gymnast who could twist, curl, and wriggle faster than anything else in the garden. He was sleek, swift, and surprisingly charming — well, to Bobby, anyway. And because of that uncanny speed, Bobby decided to name him Motor.

Motor lived in a little matchbox lined with damp leaves and bits of apple peel. Bobby carried him everywhere — to school, to the park, even to Grandma’s house (though she nearly fainted when he showed her). They were inseparable.

Every day after school, Bobby and Motor would go adventuring. Motor would race along the windowsill while Bobby timed him with his old wristwatch. Sometimes, Motor would win, and Bobby would cheer. Other times, Motor would stop to nap halfway through, and Bobby would give him a pep talk about “training discipline.” They were quite the pair.

One afternoon, Bobby took Motor to the big oak tree at the end of the lane — their favorite spot. They built obstacle courses out of twigs and pebbles, drew chalk racetracks on the patio, and even tried to teach Motor how to climb a leaf (he got halfway up before tumbling down and landing in a dramatic little squirm). It was the happiest summer Bobby could remember.

But then — tragedy struck.

One morning, just as the school holidays began, Bobby went to get Motor from his matchbox… and he was gone.

At first, Bobby thought he’d just crawled under the tissue paper. He checked every corner, every fold. Nothing. He searched the windowsill, the carpet, the flowerpots. He turned over every stone in the garden, called softly into the grass, even left bits of apple out overnight, hoping Motor would wriggle back for a snack.

But Motor never returned.

Bobby was heartbroken. He searched high and low for days, then weeks. His parents tried to cheer him up with trips to the seaside, but even as he built sandcastles, Bobby found himself thinking, Maybe Motor likes sand. Maybe he’s here somewhere.

Every wriggle of seaweed caught his eye. Every noodle at dinner made his heart skip. But alas — no Motor.

By the end of the summer holidays, Bobby was exhausted. School was starting again, and he had to face the fact that Motor was gone for good.

The first day back was glum. Bobby trudged through lessons, staring out the window, doodling tiny maggots with racing stripes in his notebook. When lunchtime came, he wasn’t even hungry. Still, he sat down, opened his lunchbox, and tried to muster up an appetite.

He took out a sandwich. Not interested.

He lifted out a packet of crisps. Nah.

But then he grabbed his apple, lifted it to his lips to take a bite, but joys of joys, he couldn't believe it...









Out bored Motor.
Click to expand...
There is only one thing worse than biting into an apple and finding a maggot inside. That is biting into an apple and finding half a maggot inside.
 
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