The Link 14 Humour

welcome to this issue's humour section
we hope that you like these little tid
bits.

if you have anything that you want to
have printed here,then please send it in
to us.

so sit back,kick your shoes off and let
our sick humour either make or break
your day.

see you all next issue,the editor.
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did you hear about the bloke who killed
his wife and disposed of her body in an
acid bath?

he lost his right arm trying to pull the
plug out.
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after a long wait,about 2 years,at the
c.e.s.(dole office) george finally got
the chance of a full time job.

we're looking for a bus driving,he was
told at the interview.  can you handle
driving a bus and collecting fares?

george said that would be no problem,so
he was taken on.

on his first day on the job,the phone
rang in the bus depot office about half-
an-hour after george had left on his 1st
run.

it's me,boss,george,said the voice on
the phone.  can you send help?  there's
been a bit of an accident,you see.  the
bus ran up on the pavement and smashed
through a plate glass window into a shop

bloody hell!  exclamied the boss.  how
did that happen?

dunno,said george.  i was down the back
of the bus taking fares at the time.
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a couple who loved playing the horses &
going to the races,worked out a system
so that the wife could signal to the
husband which horse to put money on.

if she scratched her head,that meant top
weight,and if she scratched her bottom,
that meant bottom weight.

anyway,off they went to the melbourne
cup,and the wife mingled with the crowd
to pick up some tips,signalling back to
her hubby.

all went well for a while,and they got a
couple of good winners.

then the time for the big race arrived,&
the husband spotted his wife,but instead
of scratching her head or scratching her
bottom,she seemed to be doing a madonna
impersonation and scratching her fanny.

the husband couldn't work out what she
meant,so he didn't bet on the race,and
then his wife came rushing up to him.

i didn't know what your signal meant,the
husband said.

you fucking idiot,snapped his wife,the
favorite of course!
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dave and mabel were out for a walk when
mabel's shoelace broke.

never mind,said dave.  there's a bloke
working on the road over there,go & ask
him,if he's got a bit of string.

i can't do that,said mabel,i don't know
his name.

oh,just call him tom,dick or harry,said
dave.

so mabel limps over the road and says,
excuse me,have you got a bit of string
on ya dick?

no,says the bloke whaddya think it is,a
bloody yo-yo.
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an old man,hobbling along with a walking
stick,tottered into a massage parlor.  i
want a girl!  he wheezed,i wanna get
laided.  gimme a woman.

and just how old are you,grandad?  asked
the receptionist.

i'm ninety-two,he replied.  ninety-two?
ninety-two?  exclaimed the receptionist.
pop you've had it!

oh,have i?  said the old man.  how much
do i owe you then?
               ----------
a bloke goes for a job with a forestry
firm.  come outside,says the boss,and
tell me what sort of tree that is over
there.

no problem,says the bloke.  that's a gum
tree,sir.

right,very good,says the boss.  what
height is it?

and the bloke glances up at the tree and
says,it's exactly 18.8 metres high,sir.

so the boss gets the tree measured and
sure enough,it's exactly 18.8 metres
high.
right,says the boss,one last question,&
if you get this right you get the job.

tell me,which is the back of the tree?

so the bloke walks around the tree and
says,that is the back,sir.

amazing! says the boss.  how do you know
that?

easy,says the bloke,some dirty bastard
has had a shit behind it!
               ----------
once upon a time there was a teddy bear
who was fed up with being on the dole.
sorry! (job search allowance),or what-
ever it's called this week.

anyway,he got a job with one of the
local council road gangs,and spent his
days digging holes in the road with a
pick and shovel,and then going back next
week and filling them in again.

but one day,when he arrived for work,he
looked around the tool shed and could
only find his shovel...his pick had
vanished!

oi! he cried.  what's going on?

don't you know ,mate?  said the foreman.
today's the day the teddy bears have
their picks nicked.
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picture the scene.  an upper-class
dinner party at an english stately home,
an old manor house in the country.

the table set with priceless china,crisp
with white linen,sparkling silver and
glassware,candelabra,discreet servants
bringing in the food,the full works.

the people seated around the table were
dressed in all their finery,the men
elegant in evening dress and the women
dazzling in silks,satins and lace,be-
decked with diamonds and pearls.

even the sole australian guest,a visitor
to the old dart,was dressed up for the
occasion in a hired dinner suit.

the hum of polite conversation died
down as the first course was served,and
in the silence the aussie shifted un-
comfortably in his chair,raised his bum
slightly and let fly a ripper.
shock,horror,consternation!

how dare you sir! cried the host.  how
dare you fart before my wife!

sorry mate,said the aussie,i didn't know
it was her turn!
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a worried looking girl went into the
local hardware store and said to the
assistant,excuse me,could you give a
screw for a door knob?

no trouble at all,miss he said,and i'll
even throw in a packet of nails as well.
a young woman revealed her marital
problems to a friend at work.

what you have to do,the friend advised,
is to try and put some magic back into y
our sex life.

the next day her friend asked how things
had gone.

well,we tried to put the magic back into
our marriage,she said,but his wand was
not up to it.
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a young bloke rushes into a chemist's
shop.

may i help you sir?  asks an elderly
lady behind the counter.

a dozen condoms,please miss,says the
bloke.

don't miss me!,snaps the elderly lady.

oh,all right then,the bloke sighs,make
it thirteen.
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hope you understand our humour.  se you
all next issue.