The Mammoth Book of Tasteless Jokes
Page 5
What’s an Australians idea of foreplay?
“You awake?”
What’s a Tasmanian’s idea of foreplay?
“You awake, mum?”
An Aussie bloke meets a young New Zealander and they fall in love and get married. On their wedding night, she turns to him and says, “Can you please be gentle with me? I’m still a virgin.”
The groom quickly gets out of bed and phones his father. “Strewth, dad, she’s a virgin. What the hell do I do?”
His dad replies, “Tell her to sling her hook, son! If she’s not good enough for her own family, then she ain’t good enough for ours!”
What is the definition of an Australian gentleman?
Someone who will always offer to light his girlfriend’s farts before lighting his own.
An Aussie was driving along through the outback in his four-wheel-drive, when he saw an Aborigine carrying two sheets of corrugated iron and a crate of beer. He stopped to give him a lift and the Aborigine chucked the two sheets of corrugated iron and beer in the back and hopped in beside the driver. “What the hell are you doing, mate, wandering around the outback with two sheets of corrugated iron and a crate of beer?” the driver asked.
“The wife kicked me out,” the Aborigine explained. “We had a court case. She got the kids, I got the house and contents.”
A British tourist arrived in Australia, hired a car and set off for the outback. On his way he saw a man having sex with a sheep. Horrified, he pulled up at the nearest pub and ordered a straight double whisky. Just as he was about to knock it back, he saw a bloke with one leg masturbating furiously at the bar.
“For pity’s sake!” the Brit cried. “What the hell is wrong with this country? I’ve been here one hour and I’ve seen a bloke shagging a sheep and now some bloke’s wanking himself off in the bar!”
“Fair dinkum, mate,” replied the barman. “You can’t expect a man with one leg to catch a sheep, can you?”
Once upon a time in the Kingdom of Heaven God went missing for six days. On the seventh, Michael the Archangel found him resting. He enquired, “Where have you been, God?”
God sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction and proudly pointed downwards through the clouds, “Look, Michael, look what I’ve made.”
Archangel Michael looked puzzled and said, “What is it?”
“It’s a planet,” replied God, “and I’ve put life on it. I’m going to call it Earth and it’s going to be a great place of balance.”
“Balance?” enquired the Archangel, a trifle confused.
God pointed to different parts of Earth. “Look over there, for example. That is Northern Europe. It will be cold but it will be a place of great opportunity and wealth. Southern Europe, however, will have good weather but it is going to be relatively poor.”
“I think I get it,” said Michael the Archangel.
God continued: “Over there I’ve placed a continent of white people and over there is a continent of black people. And over there, I call this place America. North Americans will be rich and powerful and cold and everyone will hate them, while South Americans will be poor and hot and happy and friendly. Can you see the balance?”
“Yes,” said Michael the Archangel, impressed by God’s work. Then he pointed to a smallish land mass and asked, “What’s that one, God?”
“Ah,” said God. “That’s New Zealand, the most glorious place on Earth. There are beautiful mountains, rainforests, rivers, streams and a fabulous coastline. The people are good looking, intelligent, extremely sociable, hard working and high achieving, and they will be known throughout the world as diplomats and carriers of peace. They will also be strong in character and will admired and respected by all who come across them.”
Michael gasped in wonder and admiration. “But, God, you said there will be balance.”
“Yes,” God replied. “Just wait until you see the twats I’m putting next door to them.”
Ten Reasons Why it’s Great to Be Australian
1 You know that your great-great-grandfather was a murdering bastard that no civilized nation on earth wanted.
2 Fosters Lager.
3 You get to dispossess Aborigines who have lived in your country for 40,000 years because you think it belongs to you.
4 Your cricket captain is not afraid to cry live on T V.
5 Tact and sensitivity.
6 Bondi Beach.
7 Other beaches.
8 Liberated attitudes to homosexuals.
9 Drinking cold lager on the beach.
10 Having a bit of a swim and then drinking some cold lager on the beach.
How do you tell the difference between an Australian and a New Zealander?
Ask them both “Have you ever fucked a nine-year-old?” – the Kiwi will answer, “Christ, no way, mate! That’s gross.” The Aussie will have a puzzled look on his face and reply, “A nine-year-old what?”
A New Zealander and an Aussie were chewing the fat one afternoon over a cold tinny. After a while the Aussie said to the Kiwi, “If I was to sneak over to your house and shag your wife while you were off fishing, and she got pregnant and had a baby, would that make us related, mate?”
The Kiwi thought about it for a couple of minutes, scratched his head, and squinted his eyes, thinking real hard about the question. Finally, he said, “Well, I’m not sure about related, mate, but it would make us even.”
An Australian walks into a bar in London. The barmaid takes his order and notices his Australian accent. They get chatting and at the end of her shift he asks her if she fancies a quick shag. Although she is really attracted to him she sensibly declines. He then offers to pay her £200 for sex. As the barmaid is on a gap year and travelling the world and because she is short of funds she agrees.
The next night the Aussie guy turns up at the bar again and after showing her plenty of attention throughout the evening he asks if she fancies a shag again for £200. She thinks to herself, “What the hell – I had a great night last night and I could do with the money” – so she agrees. This goes on for five nights.
On the sixth night the Aussie walks into the bar again and orders a beer, but this time he takes his drink and just sits in the corner. The barmaid is disappointed and goes over and sits next to him.
She asks him where he is from.
“Near Melbourne.”
“Really? So am I,” she says. “Whereabouts near Melbourne?”
“Box Hill,” he says.
“That’s amazing,” she says, “so am I – what street?”
“North Albert Road,” he says.
“This is unbelievable,” she says, “what number?”
He says “Number 20.”
She is astonished: “You are not going to believe this,” she says, “I’m from number 22 – my parents still live there!”
“I know,” he says, “your dad gave me £1,000 to give you.”
Why do so many Australian men suffer from premature ejaculation?
Because they always have to rush back to the pub to tell their mates about it.
An Aussie tour guide was driving a group of foreign tourists through the desert to Ayer’s Rock. Along the way he was describing the legendary abilities of the Australian Aborigine to track man or beast over land, through the air, under the sea. The tourists were amazed.
Along the road, the tour rounded a bend on the highway and discovered, lying in the middle of the road, an Aborigine. He had one ear pressed to the white line whilst his left leg was held high in the air. The tour stopped and the guide and the tourists gathered around the prostrate Aborigine.
“Jacky,” said the tour guide, “what are you tracking and what are you listening for?”
The aborigine replied, “Down the road about twenty-five miles is a 1974 Valiant Ute. It’s red and the left front tyre is bald. The front end is out of whack and it has dents in every panel. There are nine blokes in the back, all drinking warm sherry. There are three dead kangaroos on the roof rack and six dogs
on the front seat.”
The tourists were astounded by the precision and detail of the information.
“That is amazing – how do you know all that?” asked one.
The Aborigine replied, “I fell out of the fucker about twenty minutes ago.”
ASSASSINS
The CIA had an opening for an assassin. As this was a highly classified position to fill, it involved a lot of testing and background checks before the applicants could even be considered for the position. After sending some would-be assassins through the various background checks and training and testing, they finally narrowed the possible choices down to three male applicants.
The day came for the final test to see which man would get the job. The CIA men in charge of the test took the first of the men to a large metal door and handed him a gun.
“We need to know that you will follow your orders, no matter what,” he was told. “Inside this room you will find your wife sitting in a chair. Take this gun and kill her.”
The man was visibly shocked. “You can’t be serious! I could never shoot my own wife.”
“In that case,” said the CIA man, “you are undoubtedly the wrong man for the job. Take your wife and go home.”
The second man is taken to the same door and handed a gun.
“We must know that you will follow instructions, no matter what,” they explained to the second man. “Inside you will find your wife sitting in a chair. Take this gun and kill her.”
The second man looked a little shocked, but he took the gun and went into the room. All was quiet for about five minutes and then the door opened and the man came out with tears in his eyes.
“I tried but I just couldn’t pull the trigger and shoot my own wife. I guess I’m not the right man for the job.”
“Correct,” the CIA man replied. “You do not have what it takes. Take your wife and go home.”
The third and final applicant was led to the same door of the same room and given the same gun. “We must be sure that you will follow instructions, no matter what the circumstances. This is your final test. Inside you will find your wife sitting in a chair, take this gun and shoot her.”
The third man took the gun, opened the door and went into the room. Outside, the CIA man heard the gun start firing, one shot after another, six times. Then all hell broke loose in the room. They heard screaming, crashing, banging on walls. This commotion went on for several minutes then all went quiet. The door opened and there stood the third man. He wiped the sweat from his brow and said: “You never told me the gun was loaded with fucking blanks. I had to beat the bitch to death with the chair.”
What’s the difference between Bill Clinton and John F. Kennedy?
One had his head blown off, the other was assassinated.
AUTISM
Did you know that if you counted up all the pies bought at football matches every weekend in the UK, the chances are, you’re autistic.
“A friend of mine was a sadistic autistic. Just by the sound of your screams, he could tell the exact temperature of the boiling hot water he threw in your face.”
I used to share a flat with a guy who was autistic. It was great. I used to put rice in his slippers before I went out. He went absolutely nuts – but not before he had counted them all.
What’s the last thing you should ever say to an autistic person?
You do the maths.
How do you know if your child might be autistic?
When you can’t save their drawings because they’re drawn in faeces all over your nice white carpet.
AUTOPSIES
Three corpses arrive at the mortuary on the same day, all with very big smiles on their faces. A police inspector, thinking that this strange coincidence requires an explanation, arrives to ask the coroner how they died.
The coroner shows him the first body. “Englishman, sixty years old, died of heart failure whilst making love to his mistress. Hence the enormous smile, Inspector,” says the coroner.
He shows the inspector the second corpse. “Scotsman, about twenty-five years old, won £1,000 on the lottery, spent it all on whisky. Died of alcohol poisoning, hence the smile.”
“Nothing unusual here,” says the inspector and asks to be shown the last body.
“Ah,” says the coroner, “Irishman, about thirty years old, struck by lightning.”
“Why is he smiling then?” enquires the Inspector.
The coroner replies: “Thought he was having his picture taken.”
A professor is giving the first-year medical students their first lecture on autopsies and decides to give them a few basics before starting.
“You must be capable of two things for a successful autopsy. The most important factor is that you must have no fear.” At this point, the lecturer sticks his finger into the dead man’s arsehole and then licks it. He then asks all the students to do the same thing with the corpses in front of them. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, they all reluctantly follow suit. Two students throw up, a third faints to the foor.
“The second thing”, continues the lecturer, “is that you must have an acute sense of observation. For example, you may or may not have noticed that just now I stuck my middle finger into the corpse’s anus, but I licked my index finger.”
BANKERS
What’s the difference between a cattle grid and a banker?
Nobody slows down to drive over a banker.
A city financier parks his brand-new Porsche in front of the wine bar to show it off to his colleagues. As he is getting out of the car a van comes flying along and takes the door clean off before speeding away. Distraught, the financier grabs his mobile and calls the police. Five minutes later the police arrive. Before the copper has a chance to ask any questions the financier starts screaming, “My Porsche, my beautiful red Porsche is ruined! It’ll never be the same again.”
After the anguished financier finally finishes his ranting and raving, the copper shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe how materialistic you city twats are,” he says. “You don’t care about anything but money. You’re so busy thinking about your precious possessions that you don’t know what’s going in your own lives.”
“How dare you!?” snaps the financier.
The copper replies, “Well, you’re so concerned about your car that you didn’t even notice that your arm was torn off when the van hit you.”
The financier looks down in horror at his bleeding shoulder socket. “FUCKING HELL!” he screams, “WHERE’S MY ROLEX??!!”
What’s the difference between a Lehman Brothers employee and a pigeon?
A pigeon can still leave a deposit on a brand-new Porsche.
A little old woman walked into the Bank of Scotland carrying a large bag full of money. She insisted on speaking with the bank manager to open a savings account because, “It’s a lot of money.” After a great deal of negotiating, the bank staff decided to humour her and finally ushered her into the manager’s office. The bank manager asked her how much she would like to deposit. To his astonishment she replied, “£150,000!” and dumped the cash out of her bag on to his desk.
The manager was curious as to how she came by all this cash, so he asked her, “Madam, it is a little unusual for someone to be carrying so much cash around. Where did you get this money?”
The old lady replied, “Gambling.”
The manager then asked, “Gambling? What kind of gambling?”
The old woman said, “Well, for example, I’ll bet you £25,000 that your testicles are square.”
“Ahem!” coughed the bank manager, “If you don’t mind me saying so, that’s a rather silly bet. You can never win that kind of bet.”
The old lady challenged him, “So, would you like to take my bet?”
“If you insist,” said the bank manager. “I’ll be very happy to bet £25,000 that my testicles are not square!”
The little old woman said, “Okay, but since there is a lot of money involved, may I bring
my lawyer with me tomorrow morning at 10 a.m. as a witness?”
“Certainly,” replied the bank manager.
That evening after work the bank manager started to have second thoughts about the bet and spent ages in front of a mirror checking his balls, turning from side to side until he was sure there was absolutely no way his balls were square and that he would win the bet.
The next morning, at precisely 10 a.m., the little old woman appeared with her lawyer at the bank manager’s office. She introduced the lawyer to the head of the bank and repeated the bet: “£25,000 says the bank manager’s balls are square!” The banker agreed with the bet again and the old lady asked him to drop his pants so they could all see. The little old lady peered closely at his balls and then asked if she could feel them. “Well, if you must,” said the bank manager, “£25,000 is a lot of money so you are entitled to be absolutely certain.”
Just then, he noticed that the lawyer was quietly banging his head against the wall. The bank manager said to the old lady, “What’s wrong with him?”
She replied, “Nothing, except I bet him £100,000 that at 10 a.m. today I would have the Bank of Scotland’s manager’s balls in my hand.”
Two tigers were stalking through the jungle. Suddenly, the one at the rear reached out with his tongue and licked the arse of the tiger in front of him. The startled front tiger turned and said, “Pack it in!” The rear tiger apologized, and they continued onward.
About five minutes later, it happened again. The front tiger turned, growling, “I said pack it in.” The rear tiger again apologized, and they continued.
Another five minutes passed, and again the front tiger felt the unwanted tongue. The front tiger turned, giving the rear tiger a ferocious glare, angrily hissing, “What the fuck is it with you?”