Saturday, 5 April 2014


A husband is dying in hospital with his wife by his bedside.

He says – There are some things I have to confess.
Wife – It’s OK honey, you really don’t have to.
Husband – No, I have to have a peaceful mind when I die.  I had sex with your mother, your sister and both your best friends.

The wife whispers in his ear – I know, that’s why I poisoned you.


A man walks into Ann Summers to purchase some lingerie for his wife and is shown several possibilities that range from £50 to £150; the more see-through, the higher the price. He opts for the sheerest item, pays the £150 and takes the lingerie home.
He presents it to his wife and asks her to go upstairs put it on and model it for him. Upstairs the wife thinks ‘I have an idea. It’s so see-through that it might as well be nothing. I won’t put it on – do the modelling naked, return it tomorrow and get a £150 refund and keep the money for myself’.
So she appears naked at the top of the stairs and strikes a pose.
The husband says: ‘Stone me, it wasn’t that creased in the shop.’ His funeral is on Thursday.


An elderly man lay dying in his bed.  While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite scones wafting up the stairs.

He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed.  Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom and, with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs.

With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen.  Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there spread out upon the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favourite scones.    

Was it heaven?

Or was it one final act of love from his devoted Yorkshire wife of 60 years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?

Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in rumpled posture.  His aged and withered hand trembled towards a scone at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked by his wife with a wooden spoon.

 “Bugger off”, she said – “they’re for the funeral”.


An old man wanted to plant his veg garden, but it was hard work at his age.  His only son, who used to help, was in prison.
The old man wrote a letter to the lad:  “Dear son.  I’m feeling bad because it looks as if I won’t be able to have a garden this year.  I’m just getting too old to dig it.  If you were here, I know you’d do it for me.  Love, Dad”.
A few days later he got a letter:   “Dear Dad, for heaven’s sake don’t do anything in the garden, that’s where I buried the bodies.  Love, your son”.
At 4am the next day, the local CID showed up and dug up the whole garden without finding anything.  They apologised to the old man and left.
That same day the man got another letter, saying:   Dear Dad, that’s the best I could do.   Love, your son”.


A housewife preparing vegetables for lunch asked her husband t get her a cabbage from the garden.  He was away so long she went looking for him, and found that he had collapsed and died.   At his funeral, a friend of the family asked the wife:   “Whatever did you do?”.
She replied:   “I had to open a tin of peas”.


Gunrunner said...

Thank you, it brightened up my return from an horrendous shopping duty, er, trip.

Vulture said...

Happy to help out Gunrunner. Been there myself recently...