Someone started a thread of good or positive news.

This one's for fave jokes or vids.

Ill assume winning coin toss and go with two.

An old Christmas joke and a Monty Python sketch

A bloke has his neighbours over for a few Xmas drinks and informs them they need to have at least some small festive item to fit in.

His first guest is wearing the old novelty reindeer antlers ....so no problem.

The second is more relaxed and just wearing a red and white shirt ...the basic of efforts.

The third has done sfa and when challenged by his host suddenly lights up and pulls out a pair of woman's panties from his back pocket.

" A puzzled host looks at the underwear and asks rhetorically....."What the hell do these have to do with Christmas?"

His neighbour beams with a big grin and cheerfully exclaims ....

"Their Carols "

And favourite MS sketch......

monty python funniest joke share'

https://share.google/mrr4lefa0yPgLOkNF

Edited Sunday at 08:372 days by Previously known as LITD.

Simple and wholesome - but it's hard to be miserable hearing this laugh.

A joke that I’ve probably told on here before (I don’t have many), but what the hell, I’ll do it again, followed by a Christmas/Easter themed video..

First, the joke:

A chap is out walking his dog and is waiting for the traffic lights to change, so they can safely cross. There is another gentleman standing next to them, also waiting to cross, and he couldn’t help but notice the first chap’s dog was sitting there calmly and enthusiastically licking his nether regions.

To break the ice and to stave off boredom, the gentleman says to the chap with the dog, “Wouldn’t it be great to be able to do that!”, to which the chap with the dog replies, “Well, if you pat him first, he just might let you!”.

And now for the video:

Edited Sunday at 12:171 day by hardtack

As a recovered public servant, I'm a big fan of jokes slipped under the wire so stuffy serious people don't notice it.

At the micro scale, a boss of mine in the public-facing private sector always included explicit stipulations about quality and quantity of muffins to be provided at all client-called progress meetings.

Slightly more forcefully, my dad infamously added the staff who had worked copious unpaid overtime to the 'sponsors' page for a certain peak body's annual report, right next to Linfox and Visy et al.

But if you ever want to witness an exercise in deadpan humour carried out in full, there is the 1999

Report to the Minister for Defence on the Collins Class Submarine and related matters

The utlimate shaggy dog story. Just from recall;

• the propeller blades were misaligned causing cavitation which in turn caused the defects in the propeller manufacturing to be exposed as sudden potentially catastrophic cracking

• the propeller shafts were not designed to match the size and RPM of the propellers, so wore out quickly and needed frequent in-port maintenance, dramatically limiting missions range and capabilities.

• the periscopes were not hydrodynamic and would begin vibrating loudly and potentially breaking if the submarine moved too much while periscopes were in operation

• the periscope mirrors weren't properly shielded, such that at certain times of day around dawn and dusk the periscope operator could suddenly be hit by a concentrated glare that would leave them blinded for minutes.

• the hull shape wasn't correctly modelled and had to be modified after construction to prevent the submarine generating a bubble-wake

• the hull paint/coating wasn't on spec for acoustic dampening

• the engines were prone to collecting backwash water, radically reducing performance and causing constant loud banging, causing corrosion of parts, emitting fumes, and vibrations damaging parts such as gear trains and pistons.

• the contracts defining who was responsible for what were hopelessly lacking in details, leading to months of lost time and legal wrangling over almost every issue which came up. Some contractors were released from their contractual quality standards because it was all too much trouble to administer

• the various offices involved and the key people in the project (Navy/Defence Materiel-DSTO/Australian Submarine Corporation) all developed such an intense hatred and 'trench warfare' culture towards each other that they actively avoided calls and the meetings required to make progress

• At no time was there enough crew to field any more than three of the six subs, and typically only two

• but that wasn't particularly relevant because it was unusual for more than half the fleet to be available for service anyway, or even for sea trials in preparation for service, given the continuous maintenance burden

• the performance limitations and genuine risks of operation at high loads meant that crew training and development was far below the rated expectations for service

• the computer systems (both software, and, by the time the software was updated, the hardware) which were initially installed were out of date by the time they arrived. The networking was so unreliable that crew were writing down the details from the screen in front of them to pass to the person at the next screen - for example, target information from sonar was no longer accurate by the time the weapons officer's screen refreshed.

Now, I did say this was a shaggy dog story. So the final punchline is, of course, that after more than a decade of hilarious shemozzle...

(put on your best Norm MacDonald voice)

"The Collins class submarines are well designed for Australia's special requirements and have generally been soundly built."

7 hours ago, Little Goffy said:

Slightly more forcefully, my dad infamously added the staff who had worked copious unpaid overtime to the 'sponsors' page for a certain peak body's annual report, right next to Linfox and Visy et al.

But if you ever want to witness an exercise in deadpan humour carried out in full, there is the 1999

Report to the Minister for Defence on the Collins Class Submarine and related matters

The utlimate shaggy dog story. Just from recall;

Lol. Sponsors - I love it. I've heard unpaid overtime termed as 'donated hours' by some in management, so stands to reason that you'd be a sponsor. But putting them in an official annual report is next level.

The Collins class thing also made the engineer in me laugh, while being a bit close to home at the same time.

Sitting here with this thread open about to type a joke and just realised I don’t know any jokes, not even one, that isn’t dirty. Not one. 🤭

What happens to rainbows that misbehave?

They get sent to Prism.

This is magnificent. Still crying with laughter.

15 hours ago, Little Goffy said:

As a recovered public servant, I'm a big fan of jokes slipped under the wire so stuffy serious people don't notice it.

At the micro scale, a boss of mine in the public-facing private sector always included explicit stipulations about quality and quantity of muffins to be provided at all client-called progress meetings.

Slightly more forcefully, my dad infamously added the staff who had worked copious unpaid overtime to the 'sponsors' page for a certain peak body's annual report, right next to Linfox and Visy et al.

But if you ever want to witness an exercise in deadpan humour carried out in full, there is the 1999

Report to the Minister for Defence on the Collins Class Submarine and related matters

The utlimate shaggy dog story. Just from recall;

• the propeller blades were misaligned causing cavitation which in turn caused the defects in the propeller manufacturing to be exposed as sudden potentially catastrophic cracking

• the propeller shafts were not designed to match the size and RPM of the propellers, so wore out quickly and needed frequent in-port maintenance, dramatically limiting missions range and capabilities.

• the periscopes were not hydrodynamic and would begin vibrating loudly and potentially breaking if the submarine moved too much while periscopes were in operation

• the periscope mirrors weren't properly shielded, such that at certain times of day around dawn and dusk the periscope operator could suddenly be hit by a concentrated glare that would leave them blinded for minutes.

• the hull shape wasn't correctly modelled and had to be modified after construction to prevent the submarine generating a bubble-wake

• the hull paint/coating wasn't on spec for acoustic dampening

• the engines were prone to collecting backwash water, radically reducing performance and causing constant loud banging, causing corrosion of parts, emitting fumes, and vibrations damaging parts such as gear trains and pistons.

• the contracts defining who was responsible for what were hopelessly lacking in details, leading to months of lost time and legal wrangling over almost every issue which came up. Some contractors were released from their contractual quality standards because it was all too much trouble to administer

• the various offices involved and the key people in the project (Navy/Defence Materiel-DSTO/Australian Submarine Corporation) all developed such an intense hatred and 'trench warfare' culture towards each other that they actively avoided calls and the meetings required to make progress

• At no time was there enough crew to field any more than three of the six subs, and typically only two

• but that wasn't particularly relevant because it was unusual for more than half the fleet to be available for service anyway, or even for sea trials in preparation for service, given the continuous maintenance burden

• the performance limitations and genuine risks of operation at high loads meant that crew training and development was far below the rated expectations for service

• the computer systems (both software, and, by the time the software was updated, the hardware) which were initially installed were out of date by the time they arrived. The networking was so unreliable that crew were writing down the details from the screen in front of them to pass to the person at the next screen - for example, target information from sonar was no longer accurate by the time the weapons officer's screen refreshed.

Now, I did say this was a shaggy dog story. So the final punchline is, of course, that after more than a decade of hilarious shemozzle...

(put on your best Norm MacDonald voice)

"The Collins class submarines are well designed for Australia's special requirements and have generally been soundly built."

But hey, at least we got to take delivery. Meanwhile, we outlay billions on subs we’ll probably only take delivery of after they are well and truly redundant, while Trump Class (an oxymoron if ever there was one) battleships are scouring the Gulf of (cough) America, in search of Venezuelans on belly boards after failing to find Greenland.

Ok then, possibly the only other joke I can remember…

Sir Henry Rawlinson is a wealthy businessman courtesy of an inheritance, who has several large operations that he very occasionally deigns to visit, but usually opting to work from the comfort of his sprawling mansion just outside Oxford.

(none of this has much to do with the joke, I’m just padding it out with useless information…and you ain’t seen nothing yet!).

Well, on this particular day Sir Henry decided to visit his sock emporium located on Castle Street in the city of Oxford. Now, when Sir Henry visits any of his business premises, he like to start the day with a bubble bath, meticulously prepared by his faithful old retainer, Waddle.

Sir Henry called out, his booming voice echoing down the corridors, loud enough to wake the ghosts of centuries past. “Waddle!!”, he cries, “Waddle, I’ll be visiting my sock emporium today, so could you please prepare my bath to the usual 74°F (we ARE in Britain, after all), and with a three and three quarter inch layer of jasmine scented foam on top.”.

As Sir Henry was finishing up his sentence, Waddle arrived, puffing from the effort (he’d been busy preparing Sir Henry’s breakfast at the other end of the mansion), and greeted Sir Henry with an enthusiastic, “Of course sir…as you wish sir!”.

Today was no ordinary day, as it was Waddle’s birthday; no one really seemed to know how old he was, Waddle himself had lost track…but that is of no consequence to this tale. Sir Henry held a fondness for Waddle, of the kind that a veteran of the Boer War might hold for his old hunting dog, that is on its last legs. “Happy birthday old chap!” he said, in as gentle a voice as he could muster, “After you have finished preparing my bath and breakfast, as a tribute to your passing years, I am awarding you the rest of the morning off!”.

And so Waddle ran the bath, diligently checking the temperature of the water to ensure that it didn’t exceed the stipulated 74°F, and using a squeegee, levelled the foam on top to the desired depth of three and three quarter inches. He then announced to Sir Henry, “You bath is ready sir, prepared precisely to your specifications, I shall now return to the kitchen and finish preparing your breakfast after which I shall take my leave.”

Sir Henry thanked Waddle and entered the vast bathroom, removing his scarlett red satin dressing gown and paisley patterned pyjamas (souvenirs from his days with the British Raj).

As he entered the bath and commenced lowering himself into the temperature perfect water, his corpulent buttocks parting the jasmine scented bubbles, Sir Henry had a sudden urge to pass a copious amount of wind, and as his buttocks came in contact with the water, he let fly with the most enormous fart, a fart that continued as he submerged its source to the point where it came in contact with the bottom of the bath.

Maybe half a minute had passed when all of a sudden, Waddle burst into the bathroom, a hot-water bottle clasped tightly in his hand, breathing heavily from the effort. Sir Henry, startled by this sudden, unexpected intrusion, blurted out, “Waddle! What in god’s name are you doing, bursting in here uninvited, with a hot-water bottle in your hand?? I thought I’d told you to take the rest of the morning off!”.

Waddle, looking somewhat bemused, rather sheepishly muttered, “But sir, I distinctly heard you call out, “What about a water bottle Waddle”, and so here I am.”

boom boom!

One of the best jokes I told which got a great laugh was when I spent a few minutes with the preamble only to forget the punchline when it came time.

Probably helped that it was in a cab with a bunch of mates I'd been on the beers with all arov.

Ok, I’ve remembered a clean joke. I think I’ve already posted it on here years ago but since it’s the only clean joke I know, here ‘tis…

A young British guy had three mates over for dinner at his mum’s house. Mum brings out a sumptuous roast chicken and places it on the table. She picks up the carving knife and says to the first of her son’s friends, “Which football team do you go for?” The lad says, “West Ham United.” Mum carves a slice from the left side of the chicken and serves it to him.

“And which football team do you go for?” Mum asks the second lad.” The boy replies, “I go for East Ham United” so Mum carves a slice from the right side of the chicken for him.

Mum asks the third lad, “Which football team do you go for?”

“Arsenal” replied the boy, “But I’m not hungry, thanks.”

I've got a mouse problem.

I feed my cat cheese and put him next to the mouse hole.

He waits there with abated breath.

Maths joke.

1 hour ago, Ghostwriter said:

A young British guy had three mates over for dinner at his mum’s house.

The Beatles were gathered for Christmas lunch and George accepted the task of carving the bird

Ringo said he'd like the drumsticks, Paul chose wings, while John opted for cold turkey.

Another music one.

Q: What's the difference between The Rolling Stones and a Scottish sheep farmer?

A: The Stones had a big hit in the 60s with 'Hey You Get Off Of My Cloud' while the farmer says "Hey McLeod, get off of my ewe".

Never NOT funny…

9.3K views · 192 reactions | Happy St Patrick's Day! 🇮🇪...

Happy St Patrick's Day! 🇮🇪 To celebrate, here's a throwback to one of our favourite interviews from last year with young Bomber Conor McKenna. 😂

Edited 7 hours ago7 hr by Ghostwriter

4 hours ago, mauriesy said:

Maths joke.

Should have gone with the constipated one who worked it with a pencil.

31 minutes ago, Ghostwriter said:

Never NOT funny…

9.3K views · 192 reactions | Happy St Patrick's Day! 🇮🇪...

Happy St Patrick's Day! 🇮🇪 To celebrate, here's a throwback to one of our favourite interviews from last year with young Bomber Conor McKenna. 😂

That's funny.

I think I picked up something about a chicken farm towards the end but that's about it.

3 hours ago, Demonstone said:

The Beatles were gathered for Christmas lunch and George accepted the task of carving the bird

There was something in the way he moved that carving knife.

Aussie: “That your dog?”

Kiwi: “Yep”

Aussie: "Mind if I speak to him?’

Kiwi: "Dogs don’t talk.”

Aussie: Hey dog, how’s it going?"

Dog: “Doing all right.”

Kiwi: (look of shock)

Aussie: Is this your owner?" (Pointing at the Kiwi)

Dog: “Yep.”

Aussie: How’s he treating you?"

Dog: “Real good. He walks me twice a day, feeds me great food and takes me to the park once a week to play.”

Kiwi: (Look of absolute disbelief!)

Aussie: “Mind if I talk to your horse?”

Kiwi: "Horses don’t talk.”

Aussie: “Hey horse, how’s it going?”

Horse: “Cool.”

Kiwi: (Extreme look of shock!)

Aussie: “Is this your owner?” (Pointing to the Kiwi)

Horse: “Yep.”

Aussie: “How’s he treating you?”

Horse: “Pretty good, thanks for asking, he rides me, brushes me down often and keeps me in a nice stable to protect me from the weather.”

Kiwi: (Look of total amazement!)

Aussie: “Mind if I talk to your sheep?”

Kiwi: "That sheep’s a bloody liar!!”

I'm part Irish so.....

An Irishman walks into a bar. He orders two shots, drinks them both, and then leaves.

The next day, the Irishman returns, orders another two shots, drinks them both, and then leaves.

He continues to do this for some time, when one day the bartender questions him, “How come you always order exactly two shots?”

The Irishman replies, “well, you see my brother and I used to go out drinking every night, but he lives across the country now, so every night, I order two drinks. One for myself, and one for my brother.”

Things remain the same for a while until one day the Irishman comes in and orders only one shot. The bartender becomes concerned and asks him “how come you’re only ordering one shot? Did something happen to your brother? Is he ok?”

The Irishman replies, “of course not, my brother’s fine. I just quit drinking”

5 hours ago, Demonstone said:

Another music one.

Q: What's the difference between The Rolling Stones and a Scottish sheep farmer?

A: The Stones had a big hit in the 60s with 'Hey You Get Off Of My Cloud' while the farmer says "Hey McLeod, get off of my ewe".

53 minutes ago, Demonstone said:

Aussie: “That your dog?”

Kiwi: “Yep”

Aussie: "Mind if I speak to him?’

Kiwi: "Dogs don’t talk.”

Aussie: Hey dog, how’s it going?"

Dog: “Doing all right.”

Kiwi: (look of shock)

Aussie: Is this your owner?" (Pointing at the Kiwi)

Dog: “Yep.”

Aussie: How’s he treating you?"

Dog: “Real good. He walks me twice a day, feeds me great food and takes me to the park once a week to play.”

Kiwi: (Look of absolute disbelief!)

Aussie: “Mind if I talk to your horse?”

Kiwi: "Horses don’t talk.”

Aussie: “Hey horse, how’s it going?”

Horse: “Cool.”

Kiwi: (Extreme look of shock!)

Aussie: “Is this your owner?” (Pointing to the Kiwi)

Horse: “Yep.”

Aussie: “How’s he treating you?”

Horse: “Pretty good, thanks for asking, he rides me, brushes me down often and keeps me in a nice stable to protect me from the weather.”

Kiwi: (Look of total amazement!)

Aussie: “Mind if I talk to your sheep?”

Kiwi: "That sheep’s a bloody liar!!”

I see a pattern emerging

🐑

10 minutes ago, Ghostwriter said:

I see a pattern emerging

Yeah well, I heard those jokes from Tim Lamb.

Keeping with the sheep theme:

An Australian was walking along a country road in New Zealand when he saw a farmer going at it with a sheep.

The Aussie yelled, "You know, mate, back home, we shear those!"
The New Zealander looked around frantically and said, "I'm not shearing her with no one!"

But since this is a football site:

One day, a man walks into an antique shop in London. Looking around,
he notices a life-sized bronze sculpture of a cat in a dark corner. The
sculpture is so intriguing, he decides he must buy it and asks the
shopkeeper the price.

"$12 for the cat, sir," the shopkeeper tells him, "and $100 for the
story that goes with it."

"I'll take the cat," says the man, "but you can keep the story."

The transaction completed, the man leaves the store with the bronze
cat under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of the store, two
cats emerge from an alley and fall into step behind him.

Nervously looking over his shoulder, he begins to walk faster, but
every time he passes another alley, more cats come out and follow him.
By the time he's walked two streets, at least a hundred cats are at
his heels, and people are beginning to point and shout. He walks even
faster, and soon breaks into a trot as multitudes of cats swarm from
alleys, basements, and abandoned cars.

Thousands of cats are now at his heels, and as he sees the river at
the bottom of the hill, he panics and starts to run full pelt. No
matter how fast he runs, the cats keep up, hissing insanely, now not
just thousands, but millions. He looks up and sees that he is running
towards the edge of the Thames, and the trail of cats is now several
hundred yards long behind him.

Making a mighty leap, he jumps onto a lamp post, grasping it with one
arm while he hurls the bronze cat into the river. Clinging to the lamp
post, he watches in amazement as the seething tide of cats surges over
the banks into the river, where they drown. Amazed and almost
dumbstruck, he makes his way back to the antique shop.

"Ah, so you've come back for the story," says the shopkeeper.

"No," says the man, "I was wondering if you had a bronze Collingwood fan?

Edited 2 hours ago2 hr by george_on_the_outer