The Mammoth Book of Tasteless Jokes (203 page)

“Fucking ace!” he yells, and enters the bar.

“Get the cunting manager of this wank hole please, you twat,” he shouts at a rather startled barman. The barman, however, obliges and his manager comes upstairs. “Can I help you sir?” he enquires.

“Yes, fuckface, you can, you fat piece of shit. I saw your advert in the window and I’m here to audition, tosser!”

The manager is naturally repelled by the man’s deeply offensive behaviour. Improbably, however, his dire need for a decent pianist forces him to agree to an audition. The first tune the pianist plays is a delightful jazz number, and when he is finished the thrilled barman cries, “Bravo! Bravo! What was that piece called?”

“That song, you fat cunt, was called ‘Excuse me, prime minister, but I just came in your daughter’s eye and now the slut is blind’.”

“I see,” says the manager. “Can you play me another?”

“Tosser,” replies the pianist, before launching into a powerful ballad, which leaves the manager in tears. The manager asks him the title.

“That little number was called ‘Sometimes when you take a bird up the shit box you get crap on your bell end’.”

“I understand,” says the manager. “Have you any songs with slightly less offensive titles?”

“Well,” says the pianist, “there’s my jazz number ‘Do you want me to split your ring piece’, or there’s ‘I don’t care if you’re an older woman, you’ve still got the most amazing pair of tits’.”

“I see,” says the manager. “I think you’re a superb pianist but your songs are frankly a little ‘racy’. I will hire you on the condition that you do not introduce your songs or speak to the audience.”

“Fuck it,” says the pianist. “It’s a deal, you cunt.”

On his very first night everything is going superbly. The crowd loves his repertoire and his silence is received as modesty. The only thing putting off the pianist is that in the front row there is a beautiful blonde lady in a fetching black evening dress with a long split up the side revealing the tops of her stockings and a plunging neckline, which boasts a deep, inviting cleavage. During the interval the pianist has got such a stonking hard-on that he decides to retire to the men’s room and knock one out.

Just as he has shot his load he hears himself being re-introduced over the tannoy, so he dashes back to the stage and finishes his act. After the show he is at the bar relaxing, when the beautiful blonde approaches him.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hello,” he somehow manages to reply, struggling to suppress his natural desire to accost her with a string of expletives.

She leans over and whispers in his ear, “Do you know your penis is hanging out of your trousers and spunk is dribbling on to your shoes?”

“Know it?” says the pianist with a wink. “I fucking wrote it!”

I parked in a disabled space today and was accosted by a traffic warden.

“Oi, you!” he shouted, as I walked away from my car. “What’s your disability?”

“Tourette’s,” I replied. “Now fuck off, you cunt!”

A man walks in to a library and asks for a book on Tourette’s.

The librarian replies, “Fuck off, you cunt.”

The man says, “Yep, that’s the one.”

A man went to visit his sister and his nephew, Mike, who had Tourette’s.

He was waiting for his sister to bring in some tea, when all of a sudden his nephew looked at him and said, “Open the door, you cunt.”

Naturally he was more than a little embarrassed and pretended not to hear. The nephew said again, “Open the fucking door, you cunt.”

Feeling very awkward and not knowing how to respond, again he pretended he heard nothing. The nephew started getting very agitated and said once again, “You useless cunt, open the fucking door.”

At this point, to his huge relief, his sister came into the room and said, “Don’t worry, dear, he’s just trying to tell you a knock-knock joke.”

For years I thought my dad suffered from Tourette’s. Turns out he just thought I was a cunt.

A man was sitting on a train eating a bag of fresh prawns, ripping off the heads and shells and then tossing them out of the window. An older woman, sitting opposite him, said, “Do you mind not doing that? It’s rather disgusting.”

“Listen love,” he replied, “it’s got fuck all to do with you. I’ve paid my fare for this journey and I’ll do what I want on this train.” He carried on ripping off the shells, lobbing them out of the window and eating the prawns. Finally he finished the bag and settled back for a nap.

The woman then started some knitting and all the man could hear while he was trying to sleep was the incessant clicking of her knitting needles. After a while, he said to the woman, “Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep?”

“It’s got nothing to do with you,” replied the old woman, “I’ve paid my fare and I’ll do what I want on this train.”

At that, the man grabbed the woman’s knitting and threw it out of the window. The woman immediately stood up and pulled the train alarm cord.

“You’ll get fined £200 for that!” laughed the man.

To which the old woman replied, “And you’ll get five years when the police smell your fingers.”

A man goes to the ticket office at the railway station and asks: “Can I have a second glass return to Mottinghab, please?”

“Sorry,” replies the ticket clerk, “I don’t understand.”

“Can I have a second glass return to Mottinghab, please?’

“Oh I see,” says the clerk. “Have you tried sucking menthol sweets, sir?’

“Why, do they cure cerebral palsy?”

A few days after Christmas, a mother was working in the kitchen, listening to her young son playing with his new electric train in the living room. She heard the train stop and her son said, “All of you sons of bitches who want to get off, get the fuck off now, ’cause this is the last stop! And all of you sons of bitches who are getting on, get your asses in the train.”