Celebration time. One of this blog’s posts has been picked up by the “highly prestigious” web magazine The Nonsense Cup, (about halfway down the page if you click it – by the pink bus picture). Which makes it a cup winner.
If you’re not familiar with The Nonsense Cup webzine, you can easily tell it’s a prestige publication simply because it has featured this blog. What other evidence is needed? (Or indeed is available. But skating lightly over that and onwards…)
So in celebration and to assuage your understandable feelings of jealousy – here are three jokes.
1. The one with the leprechaun:
A golfer playing in Ireland hooked his drive into the woods. Looking for his ball, he found a leprechaun flat on his back, a big bump on his head and the golfer’s ball beside him. Horrified, the golfer got his water bottle from the cart and poured it over the little guy, reviving him.
“I’m afraid I hit you with my golf ball,” the golfer says.
“Oh, I see. Well, ye got me fair and square. Ye get three wishes, so whaddya want?”
“Thank God, you’re all right!” the golfer answers in relief. “I don’t want anything, I’m just glad you’re OK, and I apologize.” And the golfer walks off.
“What a nice guy,” the leprechaun says to himself. I have to do something for him. I’ll give him the three things I would want… a great golf game, all the money he ever needs, and a fantastic sex life.”
A year goes by and the golfer is back. On the same hole, he again hits a bad drive into the woods and the leprechaun is there waiting for him.
“’Twas me that made ye hit the ball here,“ the little guy says. “I just want to ask ye, how’s yer golf game?”
“My game is fantastic!” the golfer answers. “I’m an internationally famous golfer now.” He adds, “By the way, it’s good to see you’re all right.”
“Oh, I’m fine now, thank ye. I did that fer yer golf game, you know. And tell me, how’s yer money situation?”
“Why, it’s just wonderful!” the golfer states. “When I need cash, I just reach in my pocket and pull out two £50 notes I didn’t even know were there!”
“I did that fer ye also.” And tell me, how’s yer sex life?”
The golfer blushes, turns his head away in embarrassment, and says shyly, “It’s okay.”
“C’mon, c’mon now,” urged the leprechaun, “I’m wanting to know if I did a good job. How many times a week?”
Blushing even more, the golfer looks around then whispers, “Once, sometimes twice a week.”
“What?” responds the leprechaun in shock. “That’s all? Only once or twice a week?”
“Well,” says the golfer, “I figure that’s not bad for a Catholic priest in a small parish.”
2. The one with the lawyer:
The staff at a local United Way (charity) office realized that it had never received a donation from the town’s most successful lawyer. The person in charge of contributions called him to persuade him to contribute.
“Our research shows that out of a yearly income of at least $500,000, you give not a penny to charity. Wouldn’t you like to give back to the community in some way?”
The lawyer mulled this over for a moment and replied,
“First, did your research also show that my mother is dying after a long illness, and has medical bills that are several times her annual income?”
Embarrassed, the United Way representative mumbled,
“Um … No.”
“Or,” the lawyer continued, “that my brother, a disabled veteran, is blind and confined to a wheelchair?”
The stricken United Way representative began to stammer out an apology but was interrupted when the lawyer added,
“Or that my sister’s husband died in a traffic accident?” the lawyer’s voice rising in indignation, “Leaving her penniless with three children?”
The humiliated United Way representative, completely beaten, said simply,
“I had no idea …”
On a roll, the lawyer cut him off once again,
“So if I don’t give any money to them, why should I give any to you?”
3. The one with the close shave:
“I have just the thing,” says the barber taking a small wooden ball from a nearby drawer. “Just place this between your cheek and gum.”
The client places the ball in his mouth and the barber proceeds with the closest shave the man has ever experienced. After a few strokes the client asks in garbled speech.
“And what if I swallow it?”
“No problem,” says the barber. “Just bring it back tomorrow like everyone else does.”