Humor...I Need Humor...

[bargalunan]

Originally Posted by BigV

Ahhh, you wanted to say ass, actually.

Right, I forgot your political symbols.

[Cyclefrance]

After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed. The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process.

After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a day. Just then, an armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringer's job.

The bishop was incredulous. "You have no arms!".

"No matter," said the man. "Observe!" And he began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon. The bishop listened in astonishment; convinced he had finally found a replacement for Quasimodo.

But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below. The stunned bishop rushed to his side. When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before. As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked, "Bishop, who was this man?".

"I don't know his name," the bishop sadly replied, "but his face rings a bell."

WAIT! WAIT! There's more . . .

The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame.

The first man to approach him said, "Your Excellency, I am the brother of the poor armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honour his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty."

The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless man's brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the spot.

Two monks, hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side. "What has happened? Who is this man?" the first monk asked breathlessly.

"I don't know his name," sighed the distraught bishop, "but........He's a dead ringer for his brother".

BOOM! BOOM!

[Cyclefrance]

From the box last night: I walked past a loaf of bread and thought I saw your name on it - but when I went back it said 'thick cut'.

[Iggy]

Originally Posted by Cyclefrance

From the box last night: I walked past a loaf of bread and thought I saw your name on it - but when I went back it said 'thick cut'.

I hate to admit it... but I don't get it... Could someone enlighten me?






edit: apparently I can't spell either (I fixed admidt)

[xoxoxoBruce]

Thanks Iggy, you saved me the embarrassment.

[Iggy]

Originally Posted by xoxoxoBruce

Thanks Iggy, you saved me the embarrassment.

I am to please... :p

[xoxoxoBruce]

Evolution

[Cyclefrance]

Originally Posted by Cyclefrance

From the box last night: I walked past a loaf of bread and thought I saw your name on it - but when I went back it said 'thick cut'.

Translation from the English:
Box = TV (that thing in the corner of the room that you watch most nights and that shows you continuous adverts which are spoiled by the interruptions of programmes and sport )
Last night = yesterday evening (the longish bit that happens when the sun goes down at the end of each day - it's normally very dark)
walked = moved step by step using feet (the two flat sticking-out things at the bottom of the legs)
past = the past of pass (meaning to overtake - not some gulch where the indians wait in ambush)
loaf of bread = the economy size version of the stuff that you use to make sandwiches (the outside part that stops the inside part falling out and making you messy), toast, and bread and butter pudding (an English dessert delicacy)
your name = (hopefully) what your parents used to call you by to distinguish you from your brother/sister (or if an only child something better than 'oi you')
went back= (in this context) returned to have another look
thick cut = a particular size of one slice of bread in a wrapped loaf (see above) that has been cut laterally into a number of individual handy-sized portions - the 'thick cut' is the widest type of slice (ideal for toasting), the other variants being 'thin sliced' (the narrowest, when you don't want to eat much) and 'medium sliced' (the middle size/width and the most comonly used for making sandwiches)

The joke comes from the fact that the person relating the story has mistaken the words 'thick cut' when he/she first sees them on passing by and written on a loaf of bread as reading thick 'see you next Tuesday' (a pleasant way of saying a very rude word I would rather not write as children may be present - by the way if you didn't know that 'see you next Tuesday' meant that extremely naughty four-letter word, then someone has probably been ribbing you for years - and you thought they'd gotten their days mixed up! Well, silly you!!).

On returning to review what he/she thought he/she had seen the story teller realises his/her mistake and that the words were in fact 'thick cut' the type of loaf it was, and not the name (very naught word) that he/she has heard you are called (oh, bollocks, all right then, the word's 'cunt').

So in this last context
Thick= unintelligent, not quick on the uptake, a biscuit short of a packet,
Cu*t = a part of the female anatomy used both in conception and birth, which reminds me:

Girl goes to doctors complaining of stomach pains and sickness.
'I 'm pleased to tell you that you're pregnant' he says after examining her.
'Oh, I wasn't prepared for that - how exactly will I have the baby?'
'Well. my dear it will be much the same way as you conceived it'
'What, you mean in the back of the station wagon with my legs hanging out of the windows?'

There, I bet you're in hysterics now!