Jokers: Situation Humour: Pub Humour

Pub Humour


Ask for extra-hot chili sauce o­n your kebab.

Try and get off with your best mate’s girlfriend.

Piss in your girlfriend’s cupboard/out the window/anywhere except in the bathroom.

Give a running commentary, out loud, o­n anything you do, even though you’re alone (eg, ah’m gonna go into the kitschen, ah’m gonna get myshelf A beer, an’ ah’m gonna drink it… thatsh whad am’m gonna do…etc.)

Get a tattoo/try to tattoo yourself.

Use classy chat-up lines like: “You’ve got phemoninal…phemonim…..Great tits.  

Can I shag you?”

Fall down open manholes.

Chuck up in the back of taxis.

Climb o­nto the roof of bus shelters – to get a better view of the stars, Man.

Pull a moonie.

Think it’s really funny to put all your female flatmate’s underwear In the freezer compartment.

Make “punch” out of half a bottle of vodka, a bottle of red wine, and Some Strongbow.

Drink it.

Get thrown out of a nightclub for taking all your clothes off.


Sing “Beers, beers, we want more beers, all the lads are cheerin’, Get the fookin’ beers in. Beers beers we want more beers” etc. To your Girlfriend’s parents.

Dance as if you are John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever.
And bump into things. And break them. And not give a flying f*** about it.

Make yourself a delicious snack of English mustard o­n stale white bread.

Decide that the waste bin would look better o­n your head.

Fall asleep o­n the stairs, with your trousers around your ankles.

Decide to walk home, even though it’s seven miles away.

Fall asleep in a bus shelter.

Fall asleep o­n the night bus and wake up at dawn, in the middle of nowhere, having had your shoes nicked.

Watch Seventies Hammer House of Horror films starring Patrick Mower.

And think they’re good.

Fall asleep with a pint glass full of water o­n your chest, and o­nly spill it when you wake up in the morning.

Steal bottles of milk from doorsteps.

Order the hottest curry o­n the menu.

Ring up every woman in your address book at 2am and say, “Hi, I was just thinking about you. Maybe we should meet up. Now-ish…”

Attempt to shag any woman who shows a passing interest in you.

Get into a fight with a taxi driver.

Say, “You’re my best mate, you are”, to people you’ve just met.

Decide that you and your ex-girlfriend really should be together.

Join the French Foreign Legion.

Make a bonfire of photos of your ex-girlfriend.

Get really emotional, put o­n the most morose record in your collection and weep about nothing in particular.

Dig out you photo albums, get even more emotional, ring up old friends who’ve moved abroad and tell them they’re your best mate ever.

Attempt to phone the Pope, the Queen, Bill Clinton, etc.

Take lots of drugs.

Make lots of inadvisable bets.


Pull any woman in the room.

Beat any man in the room in a fight.

Do the Lambada.

Have a coherent, in-depth discussion about politics, the trouble with women, the English Cricket team, etc.

Stop dual-carriageway traffic just by holding you hand up.

Persuade 24-hour shop owners to sell you alcohol after 11pm.

Evade apprehension by officers of the law.

Fall down three flights of stairs without hurting yourself.

Do an impression of Riverdance o­n a narrow window ledge five stories above the street.

Find your house.

Checkout other News & Reviews from Sci Fi SadGeezers:
Jokers: Situation Humour: Getting Married

Three pieces of string are standing outside a bar.

There is a sign that says “No strings served.” The first string says, “Well, I’ll get served, watch.” So he walks into the bar. He saunters up to the bar and says,”I’ll have a beer please.” The bartender says,”We don’t serve strings here. Get out!” So the second string says, “Well, I’ll get served watch.” So he walks into the bar. He strolls up to the bar and says, “I’ll have a beer please.” The bartender says, “We don’t serve strings here. Get out!”

Finally the thrid string says, “I’ll get served.” He messes up his hair, twists himself around and goes into the bar.

He strolls up to the bar and says, “I’ll have a beer, please.” The bartender says, “Say, aren’t you a string?” He replies, “Nope. I’m a frayed knot.”


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