The Mammoth Book of Tasteless Jokes (173 page)

“I see,” said the doctor. “Have you tried Andrew’s?”

What was the difference between the Queen Mother and the London Underground?

The Underground got an extension for the Jubilee.

I read in the newspaper that since the death of Princess Diana, on average Camilla receives two human turds in the post every day. What I want to know is who is sending the other one?

Prince Charles was visiting Stoke-on-Trent and all the civic dignitaries were lined up at Stoke station ready for the royal train to arrive. As the train came to a standstill the door to the royal carriage opened and out stepped the prince, who appeared to be wearing a piece of red carpet on his head. Upon closer inspection it turned out to be a genuine fox-fur hat. The lord mayor of Stoke-on-Trent stepped forward and whispered in the prince’s ear, “Sir, it is one of the hottest days of the year. I know your views about hunting and all that, but it’s hardly politically correct, is it? I mean, wearing a fox-fur hat on a hot day?”

“Oh, this old thing,” Charles indicated his hat, “this was daddy’s idea.”

“Daddy’s idea?” said the lord mayor incredulously. “You mean the Duke of Edinburgh told you to wear it?”

“Oh yes,” replied Charles, “you see, he asked me where I was off to today, and when I told him I was going to Stoke-on-Trent, he said ‘Stoke-on-Trent? Wear the fox hat!’”

Why won’t the Post Offce issue stamps with a picture of Camilla on them?

Because people won’t know which side to spit on.

The Queen and Prince Philip were dining out in one of London’s fnest restaurants. The waiter comes over and asks what Philip would like to order.

“I’ll have two rare steaks.”

The waiter says, “Does sir mean two bloody steaks?”

Philip replies, “Yes, quite right, two bloody steaks.”

To which the Queen adds, “And make sure there are plenty of fucking chips.”

What takes at least three strokes before it gets stiff?

Princess Margaret
.

Prince Charles was driving around Sandringham when he heard a soft “thud”. He got out his Range Rover to discover that he had accidentally run over his mother’s favourite Corgi, crushing it to a bloody pulp. Charles sat down on the grass and put his head in his hands – one’s mother was going to go ballistic!

Suddenly he noticed a lamp half-buried in the ground. He dug it up, polished it and immediately a genie appeared.

“You have freed me from thousands of years of imprisonment,” said the genie. “Due to the credit crunch, constant downsizing, low wages in third-world countries and fierce global competition, I can only grant you one wish. So . . . what’ll it be?”

“What a terrifc stroke of luck,” said Charles. “The thing is, one pretty much already has all the material things in life, but let me show you this dog.” They walk over to the splattered remains of the dog. “Do you think you could bring this dog back to life for me?” the Prince asked.

The genie examined the crushed remains and shook his head. “This dog is too far gone for even me to bring it back to life. Is there something else I can do for you?”

Charles thought for a minute, reached into his pocket and pulled out two photos. “I was married to this beautiful woman called Diana who everyone loved and adored,” said Prince Charles, showing the genie the frist photo. “But she died and now I’m married to this horse-faced old harridan called Camilla whom absolutely no one likes,” and he showed the genie the second photo. “You see, Camilla isn’t beautiful or popular at all, so do you think you can make Camilla as beautiful and well liked as Diana?”

The genie studied the two photographs and after a few minutes said, “Let’s have another look at the Corgi.”

A young Yorkshire lad moved to London and went to Harrods looking for a job. The manager asked, “Do you have any sales experience?”

The young man answered, “Yes, I was a salesman back home.”

The manager liked him so he gave him the job. His first day on the job was challenging and busy, but he got through it. After the store was closed, the manager came down and asked “Okay, so how many sales did you make today?”

“One.”

The manager groaned. “Only one? You’re supposed to average twenty or thirty sales a day. How much was the sale for?”

“£125,699.64,” the young lad replied.

The manager choked: “£125,699.64? What the hell did you sell him?”

“Well, first I sold him a small fishing hook, then a medium fishing hook, and then, I sold him a new fshing rod. Then I asked him where he was going fishing and he said down at the coast, so I told him he would need a boat, so we went down to the boat department and I sold him that twin-engine motorboat. Then he said he didn’t think his family saloon would pull it, so I took him down to car sales and I sold him the 4 x 4 Suzuki.”