Disabled People Say Please Don’t Be Offended On Our Behalf

I’ve met a lot of people over the past seventeen years, being disabled myself, and when we get talking about our experiences one thing that comes up all the time is the thing we find most offensive: Not the jokes, not the remarks that could be interpreted as offensive by a shyster lawyer, but being patronised by middle class, Labour voting, hand-wringing, politically correct types who have elected themselves to think on our behalf.

So this story of a Twitter exchange was very amusing (and I’m with the online retailer who is the target of the latest Twitter Two Minutes Hate session.

On Saturday night, the social media team looking after online retailer Joy’s Twitter account received saw fit to respond to a legitimate complaint from a customer about what she thought an offensive card for those suffering from bipolar, by replying: “then if you know someone with bipolar disorder, don’t buy it for them. PROBLEM SOLVED”. The customer then asked how people suffering from the problem would react on seeing it, to which Joy responded: “They’ll like it one minute, and hate it the next?” (Read all – including a lively comment thread)

And so began the latest Twitter storm.

I don’t know what it is about bipolar disorder that makes every insignificant piece of shit in Islington start screeching when anyone makes a joke about the problem, but several people I know who are actually diagnosed as bipolar are very witty when discussing it, and don’t mind the jokes that go back. They can see the funny side of being bipolar.

In the same way people like me who have suffered brain damage can usually see the funny side of our problems, and we don’t need some pretentious, politically correct, self righteous leftie screecher to tell us what to think and how to feel. It’s fucking offensive in fact.

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5 MINUTE MANAGEMENT COURSE

Some oldies but goodies here, will raise a few laughs I’m sure.

Lesson 1:

A man is getting into the shower just as his wife is finishing up her shower, when the doorbell rings. The wife quickly wraps herself in a towel and runs downstairs. When she opens the door, there stands Bob, the next-door neighbor.

Before she says a word, Bob says, “I’ll give you $800 to drop that towel.”

After thinking for a moment, the woman drops her towel and stands naked in front of Bob.

After a few seconds, Bob hands her $800 and leaves.

The woman wraps back up in the towel and goes back upstairs. When she gets to the bathroom, her husband asks, “Who was that?” “It was Bob the next door neighbor,” she replies.

“Great!” the husband says, “did he say anything about the $800 he owes me?”

Moral of the story:
If you share critical information pertaining to credit and risk with your shareholders in time, you may be in a position to prevent avoidable exposure.

Lesson 2:

A priest offered a Nun a lift. She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to reveal a leg. The priest nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg.
The nun said, “Father, remember Psalm 129?”

The priest removed his hand. But, changing gears, he let his hand slide up her leg again. The nun once again said, “Father, remember Psalm 129?” The priest apologized “Sorry sister but the flesh is weak.”

Arriving at the convent, the nun sighed heavily and went on her way.

On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to look up Psalm 129. It said, “Go forth and seek, further up, you will find glory.”

Moral of the story:
If you are not well informed in your job, opportunities for advancement will pass right by you.

Lesson 3:

A sales rep, an administration clerk, and the manager are walking to lunch when they find an antique oil lamp. They rub it and a Genie comes out. The Genie says, “I’ll give each of you just one wish.”

“Me first! Me first!” says the admin clerk. “I want to be in the Bahamas, driving a speedboat, without a care in the world.” Puff! She’s gone.

“Me next! Me next!” says the sales rep. “I want to be in Hawaii , relaxing on the beach with my personal masseuse, an endless supply of Pina Coladas and the love of my life.” Puff! He’s gone.

“OK, you’re up,” the Genie says to the manager. The manager says, “I want those two back in the office after lunch.”

Moral of the story:
Always let your boss have the first say.

Lesson 4:

An eagle was sitting on a tree resting, doing nothing. A small rabbit saw the eagle and asked him, “Can I also sit like you and do nothing?”

The eagle answered: “Sure , why not.”

So, the rabbit sat on the ground below the eagle and rested. All of a sudden, a fox appeared, jumped on the rabbit and ate it.

Moral of the story:
To be sitting and doing nothing, you must be sitting very, very high up.

Lesson 5:

A turkey was chatting with a bull. “I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree,” sighed the turkey, “but I haven’t got the energy.”

“Well, why don’t you nibble on some of my droppings?” replied the bull. They’re packed with nutrients.”

The turkey pecked at a lump of dung, and found it actually gave him enough strength to reach the lowest branch of the tree. The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch.

Finally after a fourth night, the turkey was proudly perched at the top of the tree. He was promptly spotted by a farmer, who shot him out of the tree.

Moral of the story:
Bull shit might get you to the top, but it won’t keep you there.

Lesson 6:

A little bird was flying south for the Winter. It was so cold the bird froze and fell to the ground into a large field. While he was lying there, a cow came by and shit on him.

As the frozen bird lay there in the pile of cow dung, he began to realize how warm he was. The dung was actually thawing him out! He lay there all warm and happy, and soon began to sing for joy.

A passing cat heard the bird singing and came to investigate. Following the sound, the cat discovered the bird under the pile of cow dung, and promptly dug him out and ate him.

Morals of the story:
(1) Not everyone who shits on you is your enemy.
(2) Not everyone who gets you out of shit is your friend.
(3) And when you’re in deep shit, it’s best to keep your mouth shut!

THIS CONCLUDES THE 5-MINUTE MANAGEMENT COURSE

Stolen from yesmails/managementcourse

Life’s Greatest Mystery

Among a list published today of the great mysteries of life that puzzle us feeble humans, rubbing shoulders with conundrums like hob big is the universe, is there a god, does life have any meaning, is there a fundamental particle that holds matter together, why did Jennifer Grey have that effin’ nose job, who put the ding in rama lama ding dong, does anyone know what the Large Hadron Collider is supposed to do and who ate all the pies is the question of what do women see in Russell Brand.

Now this is not a question that has ever troubled me. Living in the north I have never met a woman who sees anything in Russell Brand. The nearest was one of my daugter’s friends who said “Sometimes he’s nearly a bit funny.”

Actually Boggart Blog though Brand had married Jonathan Ross and buggered off. Sadly not.

This question’s appearance in the list does highlight one serious issue however. That of the widening cultural divide between people to the south of that imaginary line from the Severn to the Trent.

Up in the north here we still like comedians who tell jokes. They need not have beer bellies od dinner jackets and bow ties, but we like humour to be delivered in packets that have the structure of a joke, anecdote or comic monologue.

In the south the new wave of comedian (with the exception of Jack Whitehall and Mickey Flanagan) are unfunny middle class kids who stand on stage for an hour mumbling introspectively about how they hate themselves, all their mates and relatives and their middle class background. Except for Marcus Brigstock who is just a twat.

What we have here is the tragic humour of the clown, the grotesque, the freak. Clowns are not funny, they are tragic, their faces hideous masks, their baggy trousers and oversized shoes serving only to accentuate their clumsiness and ineptitude. But a certain kind of person laughs at clowns because the clown’s tragedy is their tragedy.

In a world controlled by advertising and propaganda, the world inside the M25 for example, on Planet Metrosexual only perfection is accepatable. So everybody, and when I say everybody I think we all know I mean Guardian readers because they are so self absorbed they don’t know anyone else exists, falls short of their target. So they feel inept and clumsy because they are not perfect and they feel grotesque because they are not anorexic and they feel inadequate because they are not the CEO of Barclays Bank. And they hate themselves for all of it.

Russell Brand’s appeal to women lies in this self hatred. Self haters are prone to addiction and the self hating metrosexual women, addicted to chocolate and Chardonnay, white wine, throwing up, the gym, shopping and Sex-and-the-City identify with Russell Brand because he talkes about his self hatred and addictions, to drugs, sex, wanking, taking about his addictions, taking aboutr sex, talking about wanking and most of all his unhappiness. These silly bints think he will understand them and they can make him happy.

The women who rate Brand sexy are of a certain type (sic) I can’t see Essex girls going for Brand, they like someone with a bit more muscle. Norhern girls certainly don’t because they think all southerners are wusses.

Right so that’s Russsell Brand sorted. Next, the meaning of life.

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Tribute to Humphrey Lyttelton

Read an interview with former Goodie Tim Brooke Taylor today. Tim paid tribute to his former colleague on Radio 4’s comedy panel show “I’m soory I haven’t a clue” and revealed the show’s host for many years Humphrey Lyttelton was responsible for the most outrageous innuendos broadcast by the BBC.

Most of Lyttelton’s quips concerned an imaginary studio assistant Samantha. Here, because I couldn’t be arsed witing much myself today, is a selection

Why doesn’t Viagra work on chavs?
Because they only get hard when they have ten mates behind them.

“Samantha’s going out now for an ice cream with her new Italian gentleman friend. She says she’s looking forward to licking the nuts off a large Neapolitan.”

“Samantha has popped out to visit an old gentleman friend of hers who’s a notorious tightwad. However, she finds that if she butters him up properly she can sometimes get him to splash out.”

“In her spare time, Samantha likes nothing more than to peruse old record shops. She particularly enjoys a rewarding poke in the country section.”

Samantha went along to the gramophone library earlier to collect the teams’ records. It’s pitch black down there, so Samantha and the elderly archivist have taken to searching the shelves by candlelight, which can be messy, so while Samantha passes down the discs, the nice man holds the ladder while he cleans the dust and wax off in the dark.

* Record researcher Samantha has made one of her customary visits to the gramophone library where she runs errands for the kindly old archivists, such as nipping out to fetch their sandwiches. Their favourite treat is cheese with homemade chutney, but they never object when she palms them off with relish.

* As usual, Samantha has been down in the gramophone library researching the teams’ records, aided and abetted by the two kindly old archivists, Curly Smith and Chalky White. Samantha was saying she’s been helping them rearrange their work rosters recently. Chalky was getting a bit worried that Samantha might reduce his overtime shift, but cheered up when instead he saw her shorten Curly’s.

* DJ Samantha has been doing her usual extensive research down in the gramophone library, aided by the kindly old archivist. It’s hard work, and she says they both get quite weary, so the archivists have a fold-up bed to take a nap in the afternoons, and has provided Samantha with a comfy reclining armchair so that she can put her feet up while he gets his head down.

* Samantha spent a few hours down in the gramophone library researching the teams’ discs earlier, and took her little dog with her. She likes to dress the little thing in her own stylish canine clothing range, and the elderly archivists say they all appreciate her doggy fashion.

* Samantha has to nip off to the National Opera, where she’s been giving private tuition to the singers. Having seen what she did with the baritone, the director is keen to see what she might do for a tenor.

__________________

As is customary, Samantha went down to the gramaphone library earlier, where she says there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. Of late, the usually friendly archivists haven’t been very welcoming, claiming Samantha has been rubbing them up the wrong way. She says she had to give them a good mouthful, and that soon put them straight.
__________________

Record researcher Samantha visits the gramaphone library every workday, where she says she finds the old archivists like to indulge in petty bartering before they’ll fetch her chosen disks. This could be irritating, but Samantha says she doesn’t really mind if they want to dicker about five times a week.
_________________

Merry Christmas from Boggart Blog

Yesterday I was very lazy, nicking a story from a Santa Monica, California, newspaper and putting a peronal veneer on it. The editorial on the same page amused me though. The columnist had wriiten, “I love Christmas in Los Angeles, especially the carol singers in beremuda shorts singing In The Bleak Midwinter.

Today is Chistmas Eve so I am being even lazier.

Christmas Jokes:

The office party.
Office letch: What would it take to make you kiss me under the mistletoe?
Office totty: An anaesthetic.

Ooer missis:
A Panto principle boy into a bar and asks for a double entendre ……
So the barman gives her one.

Have a Health and Safety Christmas:
The ad said traditional Christmas pudding with silver Christmas charms bring you good fortune.
The Elf ‘n’ safety warning on the box said: Potential choking hazard: do not use with food.

And of course a reprise of my favourite Chistmas joke:
It was the feast of Stephen and Good King Wenceslas phoned Pizza Hut.
The sales clerk asked him:-
‘Do you want your usual, Highness? Deep pan, crisp and even?’

The Upside Of The Economic Downturn (Recesssion jokes)

Over in the good ol’ US of A, Barmy Barry Bammy’s administration was making a big thing this week of the fact that 80,000 new jobs were created in October, pretending this showed the economy was looking up. Like our government when they state numbers of “new” jobs created they do not set against it old jobs lost.

Still there is an upside to America’s massive unemployment problem: it is spawning jokes. Have a look at these I shamelessly nicked from a contributor at http://www.gather.com (I’d link him but gather puts it’s content behind a membership wall which is a pain in the arse. So hat tip to Bert B, he’s quite happy to let me use these jokes collected from around the web)

The recession in the USA has hit everybody really hard… My buddy got a pre-declined credit card in the mail.

Wives are having sex with their husbands because they can’t afford batteries.

CEO’s are now playing miniature golf.

Exxon-Mobil laid off 25 Congressmen.

A stripper was killed when her audience showered her with rolls of pennies while she danced.

I met a Mormon with only one wife.

If the bank returns your check marked “Insufficient Funds,” you call them and ask if they meant you or them.

McDonald’s is selling the 1/4 ouncer.

Angelina Jolie adopted a child from America.

Parents in Beverly Hills fired their nannies and learned their children’s names.

A friend had an exorcism but couldn’t afford to pay for it, and they re-possessed her.

A truckload of Americans was caught sneaking into Mexico.

A picture is now only worth 200 words.

The Treasure Island casino in Las Vegas is now managed by Somali pirates.

Obama was so depressed last night thinking about the economy, wars, jobs, savings, Social Security, retirement funds, etc., he called the Suicide Hotline. He got a call centre in Pakistan, and when he told them he was suicidal, they got all excited, and asked if he could drive a truck.

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Christmas is Coming And Santa’s Getting Sacked

Macy’s department store in San Francisco has sacked one of its Santas after he made inappropriate comments to visitors to his grotto.

The store did qualify that the complaint had come from “older” customers and not from the children one always thought were the ones who ventured into the grotto.

Santa Jon, who sports his very own home-grown-white beard, explained that he would never make suggestive comments to the kids, but should someone older sit on his knee he would ask the usual question regarding that person’s behaviour during the past year.
When the customer told him they had been good he would reply,”Gee, that’s too bad!”

If asked if he liked being Santa he would explain that one of the plus sides was knowing where the naughty girls and boys lived.

It sounds fine to me, if you are over the age of consent and you still need to go and sit on Santa’s knee then don’t be surprised if he starts talking about the first thing that pops up:)

And remember, being Santa does have its downside, he only comes once a year.

But there again he does fill your stockings every time.

Ho Ho Ho.

Alistair Campbell’s Faux Tears Seed Real Jokes

I’m feeling a tad lazy today so since Blair’s spin Doctor Alistair Campbell effected a very theatrical emotional moment of television and thus spawned a litter of jokes here are a couple of the best.

You will recall or have heard Campbell’s tears fell not when he heard the Chelsea vs Burnley football score but when he spoke of the emotional hurt he suffers when people use phrases like “war criminal” when referring to his role in making Blair’s case for supporting the invasion of Iraq.

This prompted one MP who shall remain nameless to comment, “Your feeling might be hurt but at least you’ve still got your legs.”

We love the cruelty of it.

Best of the bunch though was this one: Campbell was at the Labour Conference when a stunningly beautiful and alluring woman approaches him to say how she admires his efforts in advancing a political agenda she passionately believes in. She then invites him to her room for a night of unbridled passion.

“OK,” says Campbell, “but what’s in it for me.”

Acknowledgements to Dara O’Briain for that one.”

More humour every day at Boggart Blog

Water Under The Bridge Of Thighs

A desperate day for me today as the paper did not arrive so I had no news feed. Things usually go haywire with our newsagent during Ramadan but they’re good the rest of the year so we live with it.

On top of that mishap, last night was truly dire for television apart from Mock The Week and I can’t keep blatantly nicking their jokes.

In the end I found myself watching Belle du Jour, the awful series about a high class hooker starring the high class looker Billie Piper. Alas not even Billie’s prancing around in exotic lingerie can save this show from death by bad scriptwriting.

In the opening episode of this second series Belle had a new client, the “Leader of the Liberal Democrats,” who does not do sex but pays her big wedges of money to urinate on him.

Unfortunately Belle do Jour is only fiction. If it had been real that could have been the biggest piss and tell story the tabloids ever ran.

More humour every day from Boggart Blog