The Mammoth Book of Tasteless Jokes

by E. Henry Thripshaw

  The genie examined the crushed remains and shook his head. “This dog is too far gone for even me to bring it back to life. Is there something else I can do for you?”

  Charles thought for a minute, reached into his pocket and pulled out two photos. “I was married to this beautiful woman called Diana who everyone loved and adored,” said Prince Charles, showing the genie the frist photo. “But she died and now I’m married to this horse-faced old harridan called Camilla whom absolutely no one likes,” and he showed the genie the second photo. “You see, Camilla isn’t beautiful or popular at all, so do you think you can make Camilla as beautiful and well liked as Diana?”

  The genie studied the two photographs and after a few minutes said, “Let’s have another look at the Corgi.”

  SALESMEN

  A young Yorkshire lad moved to London and went to Harrods looking for a job. The manager asked, “Do you have any sales experience?”

  The young man answered, “Yes, I was a salesman back home.”

  The manager liked him so he gave him the job. His first day on the job was challenging and busy, but he got through it. After the store was closed, the manager came down and asked “Okay, so how many sales did you make today?”

  “One.”

  The manager groaned. “Only one? You’re supposed to average twenty or thirty sales a day. How much was the sale for?”

  “£125,699.64,” the young lad replied.

  The manager choked: “£125,699.64? What the hell did you sell him?”

  “Well, first I sold him a small fishing hook, then a medium fishing hook, and then, I sold him a new fshing rod. Then I asked him where he was going fishing and he said down at the coast, so I told him he would need a boat, so we went down to the boat department and I sold him that twin-engine motorboat. Then he said he didn’t think his family saloon would pull it, so I took him down to car sales and I sold him the 4 x 4 Suzuki.”

  The manager, incredulous, said: “You mean to tell me . . . a guy came in here to buy a fishing hook and you sold him a boat and 4x4?”

  “Not exactly,” the young lad replied. “He came in here to buy a box of tampons for his wife, and I said, ‘Well, seeing as how your weekend’s fucked, you might as well go fishing!’”

  A salesman knocks at the door of a house and is greeted by a twelve-year-old boy with a cigar in one hand and a half-empty bottle of whisky in the other.

  The salesman asks the boy, “Excuse me, son, but is your mum or dad in?”

  The boy replies, “Does it fucking look like it?”

  A little old lady answered a knock on the door one day and was confronted by a young man in a suit, carrying a vacuum cleaner. “Good morning, madam,” said the young man. “If I could take a couple of minutes of your time, I would like to demonstrate the very latest in high-powered vacuum cleaners.”

  “Go away,” said the old lady. “I don’t want a new vacuum cleaner, and anyway I’m a pensioner and I’m broke.”

  As she was about to close the door, the young man wedged his foot in the door and pushed it wide open.

  “Please hear me out,” he said. “Don’t send me away until you have at least seen my demonstration.” And with that, he strode past her and emptied a bag of dogshit on to her hallway carpet. “If this vacuum cleaner does not remove all traces of this dogshit from your carpet, madam, I will personally eat whatever is left.”

  The old lady stepped back and said: “Well I hope you’ve got a bloody good appetite, because they cut off my electricity this morning.”

  SCHIZOPHRENIA

  I’m completely exhausted. I shagged this beautiful girl last night but it turned out she was a schizophrenic. I wasn’t allowed to stop until I brought both of them to orgasm.

  Did you hear about the schizophrenic who threatened to kill himself?

  The police treated it as a hostage situation.

  I had a threesome the other night. I say threesome: actually, I fucked a schizophrenic.

  Why are schizophrenics afraid to shave?

  They don’t trust that cunt with the razor.

  Why is it that when you talk to God, it’s called prayer, but when God talks to you, it’s called schizophrenia?

  What’s the best thing about schizophrenia?

  It turns a wank into an orgy.

  My doctor has diagnosed me as a paranoid schizophrenic. We think he’s out to get us.

  If I had a choice of mental illnesses, I would choose to be a schizophrenic kleptomaniac.

  After all, you can always take something for it.

  I got a ticket to see the Special Olympics.

  I am really looking forward to the schizophrenic boxing.

  SCHOOL

  What sits in the Columbine High School Library and goes “Shhh”?

  The high school quarterback’s lung.

  A nursery school teacher says to her class, “Who can use the word ‘defnitely’ in a sentence?”

  A little girl says,“The sky is defnitely blue.”

  The teacher replies, “Sorry, Susan, but the sky can also be grey, or red.”

  A little boy says: “Trees are defnitely green.”

  “Sorry,” interrupts the teacher, “but in the autumn, the trees are brown.”

  Little Johnny from the back of the class stands up and asks: “Does a fart have lumps?”

  The teacher looks horrifed and says, “Johnny! Of course not!!!”

  “Okay, then I defnitely shit my pants.”

  Little Jimmy is sitting in class and the teacher says, “Today, children, we are going to learn multi-syllable words. Does anybody have an example of a multi-syllable word?”

  Jimmy puts his hand up. “Me, Miss, Me! Me! Me!”

  “Okay, Jimmy,” says the teacher. “What is your multisyllable word?”

  Jimmy says, “Mas-tur-bate, miss”

  The teacher smiles and says nervously, “Gosh, Jimmy, that’s a mouthful.”

  “No, miss. You’re thinking of fel-a-tio.”

  The infants’ class had a homework assignment to find out about something exciting and tell it to the class the next day. When the time came for the children to give their reports, the teacher called them up one at a time. She was reluctant to call upon Jimmy, who had a reputation for being a little crude, but eventually his turn came. Little Jimmy walked up to the front of the class and, with a piece of chalk, made a small white dot on the blackboard. He then walked back to his desk and sat down. The teacher couldn’t fgure out what Jimmy had in mind for his report, so she asked him to explain.

  “It’s a period,” reported Jimmy.

  “Well, I can see that,” said his teacher. “But what is so exciting about a period.”

  “Buggered if I know,” shrugged Jimmy. “But this morning my sister said she missed one. Then dad had a heart attack, mum fainted and grandad shat himself.”

  “We were so poor when I was a kid that my parents used to get my school clothes from the army surplus store. Have you any idea how badly bullied you get going to school dressed as a Japanese sniper?”

  Sally: “Miss, miss, Freddy Smith has got a dick like a

  peanut.”

  Teacher: “Do you mean it’s small?”

  Sally: “No, it’s salty.”

  Johnny returns to school one day after an unexplained absence. His teacher asks why he was away.

  “Sorry, miss,” he replies. “Dad got burned.”

  “Oh dear,” says the teacher, “I do hope it wasn’t serious?”

  “Well, miss, they don’t fuck about at the crematorium.”

  Jenny came home from school and gave her daddy her school report. He opened it with pride and read out aloud, “90 per cent in maths. Well done, Jenny, that is fantastic. You are going to go to university and become a maths professor!”

  He read on, “94 per cent in geography. Jenny, this is fantastic. You could be a famous explorer just like David Livingstone or Ranulph Fiennes.”

  He continued reading her report, welling with pr
ide, “98 per cent in French. Jenny, you are a genius. You know, you could get a fantastic job as an interpreter. Maybe even become British ambassador to the United Nations!”

  Jenny’s report went on in much the same fashion, with exceptionally high percentages in all subjects, until he got to her result for reading.

  “30 per cent? YOU ONLY GOT 30 PER CENT? Jenny, I am ashamed of you. You are a useless, useless child. I spend all this money on your education and you repay me with 30 per cent? You are a complete disgrace!”

  He then smacked her across the head with the report and locked her in a dark, cold cupboard without any dinner. Jenny started sobbing in the dark. “I’m so sorry, dad,” she whimpered, “it’s hard reading Braille with a hook.”

  An infant school teacher was teaching her English class. She repeated to her students,

  “Mary had a little lamb,

  Whose fleece was white as snow.

  And everywhere that Mary went,

  The lamb was sure to go.”

  The teacher explained that this was an example of poetry, but that it could be changed to prose by changing the last line from, “The lamb was sure to go” to “The lamb went with her.” A few days later, the teacher asked for an example of poetry or prose.

  Little Jimmy raised his hand and recited,

  “Mary had a little pig,

  An ordinary little runt.

  He stuck his nose in Mary’s clothes,

  And smelled her little . . .”

  He stopped short and asked the teacher if she wanted poetry or prose. “Prose!” the teacher said, panicking. So Jimmy continued, “. . . arsehole.”

  A seven-year-old at school says to her teacher: “Miss, can my mummy get pregnant?”

  “How old is your mother, dear?” asks the teacher.

  “Forty,” she replies.

  “Yes, dear, your mother could get pregnant.”

  The little girl then asks, “Can my big sister get pregnant?”

  “Well, dear, how old is your sister?”

  The little girl answers, “Nineteen.”

  “Oh yes, dear, your sister certainly could get pregnant.”

  The little girl then asks, “Can I get pregnant?”

  “How old are you, dear?”

  The little girl answers, “I’m seven years old.”

  “No, dear, you can’t get pregnant . . .”

  The little boy sitting behind the little girl slaps her round the back of the head and says, “See, I told you we had nothing to worry about.”

  It was the first day at school and the teacher was asking the children what their fathers did for a living. She asked a little girl, “What does your daddy do?”

  She replied, “My daddy is a doctor and he helps people when they’re poorly.”

  The teacher asked a little boy, “What does your daddy do?”

  He replied, “My daddy is a mechanic. He fxes cars when they are broken.”

  Then the teacher asked another little boy, “What does your daddy do?”

  The boy replied, “My daddy’s dead.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” the teacher said, “but what did your daddy do before he died?”

  The boy said, “He turned blue and shat on the foor.”

  Jimmy was sitting in class doing maths when his teacher picked him to answer a question. “Jimmy, if there were five birds sitting on a fence and you shot one with your gun, how many would be left?”

  “None,” replied Jimmy, “Because the rest would fly away.”

  “Actually, the answer is four,” said the teacher, “but I like the way you are thinking.”

  Jimmy replies, “I have a question for you now. If there were three women eating ice cream cones in a shop – one was licking her cone, the second was biting the cone, and the third was sucking the cone – which one is married?”

  “Er . . .” said the teacher hesitantly, “. . . the one sucking the cone?”

  “No,” said Jimmy, “the one with the wedding ring on her finger. But I like the way you are thinking.”

  Little Jimmy is sitting in class one day, when the teacher says: “I’m going to give you a letter of the alphabet and you have to give me a word that starts with that letter and use it in a sentence. Let’s start with A.”

  Little Jimmy raises his hand and shouts, “Me, miss! Me, miss! Me, miss!”

  The teacher, having fallen for one of little Jimmy’s crude answers a few jokes back, calls on another student instead.

  Next, the teacher asks for the letters B, C and D. Each time, little Jimmy raises his hand, and each time, the teacher ignores him and calls on other students. This continues until she reaches the letter U.

  By this time, little Jimmy is jumping out of his seat. The teacher thinks to herself, “What harm can it do? There isn’t a bad word I can think of that starts with that letter.” So she calls on little Jimmy.

  “U-R-I-N-A-T-E, urinate.”

  The teacher says, “Okay, now use it in a sentence.” Little Jimmy responds, “Urinate, but if you had bigger tits you would be a ten.”

  A teacher gave her class of eleven-year-olds an assignment. They have to ask their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it. The following day the children return to school and begin to tell their stories.

  Tommy said, “My dad is a farmer and we have a lot of hens. One day dad was taking our eggs to market in a basket on the front seat of the car when we hit a big bump in the road and all the eggs got broke and made a mess.”

  “That’s a nice story, Tommy,” said the teacher. “But what is the moral of the story?”

  “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket,” said Tommy.

  “Very good,” said the teacher.

  Next up was little Sarah. “Our family are also farmers but we raise chickens for the meat market. One day we had a dozen eggs, but when they hatched we only got ten live chicks and the moral to this story is, ‘don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.’”

  “That was a fne story, Sarah,” said the teacher.

  “David, do you have a story to share?”

  “Yes. My daddy told me this story about my Auntie Muriel. Muriel was a fight engineer on a plane in Afghanistan and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory and all she had was a bottle of gin, a machine gun and a machete. She drank the bottle of gin on the way down then she landed right in the middle of a load of Taliban soldiers. She shot fifty of them with her machine gun until she ran out of bullets. Then she killed another thirty with the machete until the blade broke, then she killed the last ten with her bare hands.”

  “Good heavens,” said the teacher. “Does this terrible story your dad told you have a moral?”

  “Yes, miss,” said David. “Stay the fuck away from Auntie Muriel when she’s had a drink.”

  A young black lad asked his father, “Dad, I have the biggest dick in year three. Is it because I’m black?”

  His dad replied, “No, son. It’s because you’re seventeen.”

  SCOTS

  Why do Scotsmen have blue penises?

  Because they are tight-fsted wankers.

  An English doctor was being shown around a Glasgow hospital. He is taken into a ward full of patients who show no obvious signs of injury. He is puzzled and stops by the bed of the first patient he sees. “Excuse me,” says the doctor, “What are you here for?”

  The patient replies: “Fair fa’ yer honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o’ the puddin’ race!”

  The English doctor, who hasn’t understood a single word, puts it down to the local dialect and hopes for more luck with the next patient.

  “Excuse, can you tell me what you are here for?”

  The patient replies: “Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it.”

  This continues with the next patient: “Wee sleekit cow’rin tim’rous beastie, O what a panic’s in thy breastie!”

  “Well,” the English doctor mutters to his Scottish
colleague, “I see you saved the psychiatric ward for the last.”

  “Oh no,” the Scottish doctor corrects him, “this is the serious Burns unit.”

  What’s the difference between a Scottish funeral and a Scottish wedding?

  One less drunk.

  What’s green and gets a Glaswegian drunk?

  A Giro.

  A Scotsman is drinking in a London bar when he gets a call on his mobile phone. Grinning from ear to ear, he announces that his wife has just given birth to a baby boy weighing twenty-five pounds, and orders a round of drinks for everybody in the bar.

  Congratulations are showered on him from all around, although nobody can quite believe the baby’s size. When challenged about this, the Scot just shrugs, “That’s about average where I come from. My boy’s a typical Scottish baby boy.”

  Two weeks later the Scot returns to the bar. The barman says “Aren’t you the father of that massive Scottish baby? Everybody’s been making bets about how big he’d be in two weeks. So, how much does he weigh now?”

  The proud father answers, “Seventeen pounds.”

  The barman is puzzled and concerned. “What happened? You said he weighed twenty-five pounds the day he was born.”

  The Scot takes a slow swig from his whisky, wipes his mouth on his shirt sleeve, then replies, “We had him circumcised.”

  SCOUSERS

  A Scouser walked into the local job centre, goes straight up to the counter and said, “I’m looking for a job.”

  The man behind the counter replied, “Your timing is amazing. We’ve just got a listing from a very wealthy man who wants a chauffeur/bodyguard for his nymphomaniac twin daughters. You’ll have to drive around in a big black Mercedes, uniform provided. Because of the long hours of this job, meals will also be provided and you will also be required to escort the young ladies on their overseas holidays. The salary is £150,000 a year.”