Raconteur

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In addition to Limericks I have, over the years, accumulated a fund of jokes and anecdotes which I delight in telling. I also specialise in retelling classical tales in a new, and unexpected, form. When the book "The Three Little Wolves and the Big Bad Pig" was published last year I was infuriated, as I have been telling a story with this title for years (I don't know if it's the same story as I have not yet seen the book) and feel that my copyright has been infringed.

My criterion for material is that it must be amusing or interesting. As with Limericks, I do not insist on absolute purity and am quite ready to tell a risqué, or even downright obscene, story - if it is funny and/or clever. I do not, however, consider that obscenity is its own justification, and I do not have to be obscene to be believed.

This page contains a few items which meet my exacting standards, but certainly not all the material which I have been known to use. I have considered using the technique of the famous convicts:-

A young man found himself in prison serving a very long sentence. On the first night, after lights out, someone in a nearby cell called out "Fifty seven!" and the whole prison was shaken by roars of laughter. He was a little puzzled and inquired of the old lag who shared his cell what was going on. He was told that everyone was in the jail for a very long time, and since everyone knew all the jokes in circulation in the prison, they had all been given numbers to make it easier to tell them. The old lag offered to explain what each joke was when its number was called. After the young man had been there for a few months, and had learned all the jokes, he decided, one night, to tell one himself. "One hundred and forty two!" he shouted. There was a total, and stony, silence, finally broken by his room-mate: "Son," he said "son, it's not the joke that's funny, it's the way that you tell it."

In the end I have decided just to refer to them by topic, e.g. "The Rabbi, the Priest and the Imam" or "The Irish Woodworm" (that lives in a brick) or "The Irish Tadpole" (that turned into a butterfly). As an Englishman I have a regrettable tendency to make Irishmen the butt of some of my jokes. ([Q] What's black and blue and floats face down in the Liffey?" [A] An Englishman who made jokes about the Irish.) If you prefer you may substitute Austrians (Austria is the one where they don't have kangaroos), Belgians, Canadians, Danes, East Friesians, Greeks, Hungarians, Jews, Kerrymen, Lawyers, Men, Newfies, Norwegians, Osteopaths, Poles, Quantity Surveyors, Russians, Sikhs, Tasmanians, Utopians, Venezuelans, Women, Xenophobes (who must be terrified by being surrounded by this heterogeneous bunch), Yemenis or Zanzibarians (NOT Zanzibarbarians) - according to your own regional preferences or personal prejudices.)

On VJ-Day, when the Second World War ended, a rather large Labour Member of Parliament, Bessie Braddock, met Winston Churchill in the House of Commons. He was carrying a bottle of champagne and singing a ribald song. "Mr. Churchill," she said, "you are drunk!" "And you, madam, are ugly," he replied "but in the morning I shall be sober."

It is a principle of the law that people are presumed to intend the reasonably foreseeable consequences of their actions. But the only people who apply this principle to government actions are paranoid conspiracy theorists.

Why isn't phonetic spelled the way it sounds?

The Parable of the Two Good Social Workers

A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.

And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side.

And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side.

But then two social workers, as they journeyed, came where he was: and when they saw him, were moved by a deep compassion.

And as they passed by on the other side one said unto the other "Whoever did that needs our help. "

OXYMORON. Figure of speech containing an inherent contradiction. e.g. "Military Intelligence"

Several people have asked me to explain why there is a fairy on top of the Christmas tree.

It had been a bad year. The reindeer had all been ill with foot-and-mouth disease, and although they had been cured it had left them bad-tempered, and only two weeks before Christmas Rudolph had bitten Santa right where he sat down - drawing blood and necessitating three stitches and an anti-tetanus shot. The gnomes in the toy factory had been on strike for most of October and although the matter had been settled the effects of the delay had only been mitigated by a lot of expensive overtime in November. Finally, on the morning of Christmas Eve, Mrs. Claus had been upset by a somewhat grumpy remark from Santa (whose butt still hurt) over the breakfast table and had gone home to mother.

During the day he had checked all the presents and found them ready to fly, but the good news was spoilt by the Chief Gnome, who announced further strikes in the New Year if salaries were not substantially increased. The reindeer were fit, but far from cheerful, and only some fast footwork kept Santa from suffering the same fate from Blitzen as he already had from Rudolph. And there was no snow - only a grey sky and a heavy chilling drizzle.

By 4:00 p.m. Santa was fed up. With only two hours to go before he set out on his rounds he went home and discovered that Mrs. Claus was still at her mother's. He sat down in his favourite armchair and, with a loud "Spoinnng!", a sharp spring jumped through the upholstery and got him right where Rudolph had bitten him. With a howl of anguish he felt his wound - and brought away a hand covered in blood. He staggered to the sideboard, upended a bottle of whisky (the last) over a glass and got less than a teaspoonful. He decided to eke out what he had got and reached for the soda siphon - which went "Whaaaaa...." but did not yield anything else.

At that moment there was a ring at the doorbell. When Santa answered it he saw a dear little fairy with big blue eyes and long golden hair who looked up at him and said, "I've brought the Christmas tree. Where shall I put it?"

Have you ever imagined a world with no hypothetical questions?

Most packages say "Open here". What is the protocol if the package says "Open somewhere else"?

"Have you ever conducted Stockhausen?" "No. But I trod in some once." [Sir Thomas Beecham]

A young man took his mother out to dinner at a Chinese restaurant. She had never been to one before and was very suspicious. Towards the end of the meal she burst out "This is most disgusting food I have ever tasted in my life! And such tiny portions."

A dustman who, because of his lowly station in life, had always been comforted by the text "The last shall be first and the first shall be last"[Luke 14, xi], died and arrived at the gates of Heaven. As he knocked St. Peter came rushing out and said, "Wait over there, the Pope's coming!" "But I'm Jack Jones the dustman," he said. "Just wait until the Pope's gone," was the response. A moment later a golden coach, drawn by twentyfour white horses, arrived with the Pope. St. Peter stepped forward and made a warm speech of welcome, the entire Heavenly Choir sang a hymn of rejoicing, and St. Peter ushered the Pope through the Pearly Gates into Heaven. As soon as the gates had closed he rushed over to Jack. "My dear fellow," he said, "I'm so sorry we had to keep you waiting. The last shall indeed be first and we have a wonderful reception for you, starting at once. The only reason we had to keep you waiting was that the Pope's reception was a rather special occasion. He's the first Pope we've had for fifteen hundred years!"

George Bernard Shaw was approached by a famous actress. "My Shaw, we should have a child. Wouldn't it be wonderful if it was born with your brains and my beauty?" "But have you considered, Madam," he replied, "how terrible it would be for the poor creature if it were born with my beauty and your brains?"

A priest, an imam and a rabbi were discussing their vocations. "I was a fisherman," said the priest, "and one day I was at sea when a terrible storm blew up. My boat started to fill with water and I could not bail fast enough to keep it out. In my need I called upon Almighty God for help. At once the clouds parted and the Sun shone down and for a hundred yards all about my boat the sea became calm, while the storm still raged elsewhere. When the storm finally ended I went straight ashore, gave my boat and fishing gear to my brothers and left for the seminary to become a priest."

"It's amazing," said the imam, "how similar my story is. I was in the desert with my camel whan a great sandstorm blew up. We were choking to death with the blown sand when I called upon Allah the Merciful. At once the clouds parted and the Sun shone down and for a hundred metres all about us the sand settled and the air was clear, although the sandstorm still raged over the rest of the desert. When calm was eventually restored I went straight to the nearest oasis and gave away all my worldly goods, and then went to Mecca to study to become an Imam."

"It really is incredible" said the rabbi "how similar these stories are to my own. I was walking in Jerusalem on the Sabbath when, in the Old City, I came upon a wall that had been hit by a truck the previous night. Deep in a crack in the wall I could see a chest with gold coins spilling out of it. But I could not reach the chest without moving a lot of stones - and it was the Sabbath, when any work is forbidden. In my perplexity I called upon Jahweh. In the moment that I called the clouds parted and the Sun shone down, and for a hundred cubits all about me it was Tuesday."

[Q] If a buttered piece of bread falls to the ground it will fall butter-side down, but if a cat falls to the ground it will land on it's feet. If you attach a buttered piece of bread, butter-side up, to a cat's back and allow them to fall together will the cat land on it's feet or will the butter splat on the ground?

[A] The laws of butterology demand that the butter must hit the ground, and the equally strict laws of feline aerodynamics demand that the cat not smash its back. If they were to land, nature would have no way to resolve this paradox - so they simply do not fall.

Here you have the secret of antigravity! A buttered cat will, when released, quickly move to a height where the forces of cat-twisting and butter repulsion are in equilibrium. This equilibrium point can be modified by adding more butter, providing lift, or removing some of the cat's limbs, allowing descent.

Most of the civilized species of the Universe already use this principle to drive their ships while within a planetary system. The loud humming heard by most sighters of UFOs is, in fact, the purring of several hundred tabbies.

The danger is, of course, that if the cats manage to eat the butter off the bread on their backs they will instantly plummet to the ground. Of course they will land on their feet, but this rarely does them much good, since immediately after their graceful landing several tons of red-hot starship and a number of irritated aliens crash on top of them.

An English doctor is being shown around a Scottish hospital. At the end of his visit, he's shown into a ward with a number of patients who show no obvious signs of injury. He goes to examine the first man he sees, and the man proclaims:-

"Fair fa' yer honest sonsie face,
Great chieftain o'the puddin' race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place, painch tripe or thairm:
Weel are ye worthy o' a grace as lang's my arm...."

The doctor, being somewhat taken aback, goes to the next patient, who immediately launches into:-

"Some hae meat, and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit."

This continues with the next patient:-

"Wee sleekit cow'rin tim'rous beastie,
O what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty, wi bickering brattle
I wad be laith to run and chase thee, wi murdering prattle!"

"Well," said the Englishman to his Scottish colleague, "I see you saved the psychiatric ward for last."

"No, no, no," the Scottish doctor corrected him, "this is the Serious Burns Unit."