Little Johnny

Little Johnny

Little Johnny's father was a pastor in a small church. One day, his father
told Little Johnny that a very important bishop was coming and that he would
be staying with them.

Little Johnny became very excited and asked his father if he would get to
meet him. His father thought about this and decided that he would let Little
Johnny bring the bishop tea in the morning and wake him up. Little Johnny
agreed to do this and was very excited.

His father gave him instructions: first, knock on the door of the bishop's
room and then say to him, "It's the boy, my Lord, it's time to get up."

Little Johnny was very excited and rehearsed his lines repeating them over
and over. Finally the day came and Little Johnny had learned all his lines.
He went to the door and knocked.

He was so excited and nervous though that his lines got mixed up and the boy
said, "It's the Lord, my boy, and your time is up!"

Space Shuttle

Space Shuttle

There is a Space Shuttle mission with 2 monkeys and a woman
on board.

The headquarters in the US calls: "Monkey number 1, Monkey
number 1 to the television screen." He sits down and he is told to
release the pressure in compartment 1, increase the temperature of
engine 4 and to release oxygen to the reactors. So monkey does the
pressure, temperature, and releases the oxygen.

A few moments later headquarters calls again: "Monkey number 2,
monkey number 2 to the television screen." He sits down and he is told to add Carbon Dioxide to room 4, to stop the fuel injection to engine 3,to add nitrogen to the fuel compartment and to analyse the solar radiation.
So the monkey does the carbon dioxide, the fuel injection, the nitrogen and the analysis of solar radiation.

A little later on, headquarters calls again: "Woman, please woman,
approach the screen." She sits down and just as she is about to be
told what to do she says.....

I know I know!! Feed the monkeys, and don't f**king touch anything."

Motorway poo story

Motorway poo story
I used to drive a lorry, mostly at night. This one time I'm on the way home down the M1 and dive into the Welcome Break services as they always had the cleanest crouchers. I had just settled in a trap about half way down the room when some urgent footsteps hurry past, not quite running, but certainly not relaxed. A door to a nearby trap slams and there is the sound of someone practically ripping their trousers down, such is their urgency.
Then came the noise.
I've pondered long and hard how to convey to you all the truly bestial range of sounds this bloke was producing. Imagine someone with third degree burns, covered in iodine slipping in and out of conciousness while the morphine wears off.
Overlay this with the sound you would get if you pumped large volumes of air through a straw dipped into a bucket of warm McDonalds milkshake.
I was understandably helpless after having listened to this for about 15 minutes. I was biting my lip with my hands clamped across my mouth while I rocked around on my own throne with tears rolling down my face. I had to know who, at 2am, could possibly be in such a state, what did they look like, how old were they,how could they still drive in that state?
I had pretty much regained my composure, and remembered to do my own paperwork, when I heard the other trap open. I opened my door and observed a well dressed, respectable looking businessman-type individual in a decent pinstripe suit, 5'8", a little overweight, probably late forties, shuffle past, ashen faced and looking not a little dishevelled. He seemed to be avoiding my enquiring gaze, can't think why.