Any good jokes ... ?

Page may contain affiliate links. Please see terms for details.

craigwend

Grimpeur des terrains plats
IMG_7270.jpeg
 

Jameshow

Guru
I bumped into an old mate of mine today. I asked him "What you up to these days?"
He said "I prepare meals for the homeless, druggies, piss heads and down 'n' outs"
I said "so you work in a charity drop in centre?"
He said "No, I'm a chef in a Wetherspoons."

You know your town going to pot when the wetherspoons move out!!👍
 

classic33

Leg End Member
The Postman’s Last Delivery
After 35 years of trudging through rain, snow, and blazing heat, old Mr. Thompson was finally making his last round as the neighborhood postman.
At the first house, the family greeted him at the door with hugs and handed him a huge gift certificate.
At the second, he was given a box of fine imported cigars.
At the third, a beautiful set of fishing lures.
Every stop along his route was the same—congratulations, farewell cards, and thoughtful gifts. He was touched by the kindness.
But nothing prepared him for the last house.
When the door opened, there stood a gorgeous young blonde in a revealing negligee. Without a word, she took his hand, led him upstairs, and gave him the most passionate “thank you” he’d ever received in his life.
Afterwards, she guided him back down to the dining room, where a feast was waiting: eggs, sausage, ham, potatoes, blueberry waffles, and fresh-squeezed orange juice. When he couldn’t eat another bite, she set a hot cup of coffee in front of him.
As he lifted the mug, he noticed a single $1 bill tucked underneath.
Confused, he asked, “Ma’am… this has been the most amazing day of my life. But… what’s the dollar for?”
The blonde blushed and explained:
“Last night, I told my husband that today was your last day delivering the post, and we should do something special for you. He said, ‘Screw him—give him a dollar.’”
She winked.
“But the breakfast? That was all my idea.”
 

postman

Squire
Location
,Leeds
The Postman’s Last Delivery
After 35 years of trudging through rain, snow, and blazing heat, old Mr. Thompson was finally making his last round as the neighborhood postman.
At the first house, the family greeted him at the door with hugs and handed him a huge gift certificate.
At the second, he was given a box of fine imported cigars.
At the third, a beautiful set of fishing lures.
Every stop along his route was the same—congratulations, farewell cards, and thoughtful gifts. He was touched by the kindness.
But nothing prepared him for the last house.
When the door opened, there stood a gorgeous young blonde in a revealing negligee. Without a word, she took his hand, led him upstairs, and gave him the most passionate “thank you” he’d ever received in his life.
Afterwards, she guided him back down to the dining room, where a feast was waiting: eggs, sausage, ham, potatoes, blueberry waffles, and fresh-squeezed orange juice. When he couldn’t eat another bite, she set a hot cup of coffee in front of him.
As he lifted the mug, he noticed a single $1 bill tucked underneath.
Confused, he asked, “Ma’am… this has been the most amazing day of my life. But… what’s the dollar for?”
The blonde blushed and explained:
“Last night, I told my husband that today was your last day delivering the post, and we should do something special for you. He said, ‘Screw him—give him a dollar.’”
She winked.
“But the breakfast? That was all my idea.”
In my wildest fantasy.
 
Top Bottom