The Mammoth Book of Tasteless Jokes (209 page)

“Yep,” says the dog.

“How does he treat you?”

“No complaints. He walks me twice a day and gives me decent food.” The Welshman’s face is a picture of utter disbelief. The ventriloquist asks him: “Mind if I talk to your horse?”

“Err, the horse doesn’t talk either, as far as I know,” replies the Welshman

“Hey horse,” says the ventriloquist, “how’s it going, mate?”

“Cool,” says the horse.

At this point the Welshman falls off his porch.

Ventriloquist: “Is this your owner?

Horse: “Yep.”

Ventriloquist: “How’s he treat you?”

Horse: “Not bad, thanks for asking. He rides me regularly, brushes me down and regularly changes the straw in my stable.”

“Mind if I talk to your sheep?”

The Welshman replies, “The sheep’s a fucking liar.”

A ventriloquist is touring the pubs and clubs in London. One night he’s doing a show in a small venue above a pub in the West End. He’s going through his usual routine with his dummy on his knee, reciting some dumb blonde jokes. The show is going well and the audience seem to be enjoying themselves, until a blonde woman stands on her chair and starts heckling.

“I’ve had enough of you and your stupid blonde jokes. What gives you the right to disrespect blonde women like that? What does the colour of a woman’s hair have to do with her intelligence or her worth as a human being? It’s people like you who keep people like me from reaching our full potential as a person, because you and your kind continue to stereotype not only blondes, but women in general, and all in the name of humour!”

The ventriloquist is embarrassed and begins to apologize, when the blonde interrupts, “You stay out of this! I’m talking to that little bastard on your knee!”

A man takes his rottweiler to the vet. “My dog is cross-eyed, is there anything you can do for him?”

“Well,” says the vet, “let’s have a look at him.”

The vet picks the dog up and has a good look at his eyes. “Well,” says the vet, “I’m going to have to put him down.”

“What?” says the man in disbelief. “Because he’s crosseyed?”

“No,” replies the vet. “Because he’s heavy.”

An woman of advanced age visited her physician to ask his help in reviving her husband’s libido. “Have you thought about getting him to try Viagra?” asks the doctor.

“Not a chance,” she replied. “He won’t even take an aspirin.”

“Well,” replied the doctor. “He doesn’t need to know about it. Just drop the Viagra tablet into his coffee. He won’t even taste it. Give it a try and call me in a week to let me know how things went.”

It wasn’t even a week later that she called the doctor, who directly enquired as to progress.

The old woman exclaimed, “Oh, it was terrible! Just terrible, doctor!”

“Really? What happened?” asked the doctor.

“Well, I did as you advised and slipped it into his coffee and the effect was almost immediate. He jumped straight up, with a twinkle in his eye, and with his pants a-bulging! With one wild lunge, he ripped my clothes to tatters and took me then and there, took me passionately on the floor! It was a nightmare, I tell you, an absolute nightmare!”

“Why so terrible?” asked the doctor, “Do you mean the sex your husband provided wasn’t good?”

“It the best sex I’ve had in twenty-five years! Unfortunately, I’ll never be able to show me face in Tesco again.”

Why do they give Viagra to old men in nursing homes?

So they don’t roll out of bed.

A man goes to the chemist’s and asks for a pack of Viagra. “Do you have a prescription?” the pharmacist asks.

“No,” he replied, “but here’s a picture of my wife.”

A woman asks her husband if he’d like some breakfast. “Sausage, bacon, black pudding, eggs, beans, perhaps some fried bread? Or how about a nice bowl of muesli and a cup of fresh coffee?”

“No thanks,” replies her husband. “It’s the Viagra. It’s taken the edge off my appetite.” Three hours later she asks if he would like some lunch.

“A ploughman’s, maybe, or some pea and ham soup? Or I could fix you a cheese sandwich with a glass of wine?”

Again he declines. “No thanks. It’s the Viagra,” he says, “It’s really taken the edge off my appetite.”

A few hours later she asks if he wants any dinner. “I could go the chip shop and get us some fish and chips, or would you prefer a pizza? Or what about a take-away Chinese?”

Again he declines. “Nah, I’ll pass, thanks. It’s the Viagra. It’s really taken the edge off my appetite.”

“Well, then,” she replies, “would you mind getting off me for ten minutes? I’m fucking starving.”

A man went to his chemist and asked for a double dose of Viagra.