American football  summed up in one photo...

 

 

Remember this?

Only in the 60's and 70's UK could you have a children's TV programme where a character gets slaughtered and falls asleep on his homebrew cider. Fair play to Windy

And yes, it's a real episode narrated by the wonderful Brian Cant.

Good News, I've entered the World Agoraphobia Championships.

Bad News, I have an outside chance of winning.

Arne Slot flies to Baghdad to watch a young Iraqi boy play football. Slotty is suitably impressed and arranges for him to come over.

Two weeks later Liverpool are 4-0 down to Man City with 37 minutes left, Slot gives the young Iraqi striker the nod and on he goes.

The lad is a sensation, scores 5 goals in 37 minutes and wins the game for Liverpool. The fans are delighted, the players and coaches are delighted and the media love the new star.

When the lad comes off the pitch he phones his mum to tell her about his first day in English football.

'Hello mum, guess what?' he says 'I played for 37 minutes today, we were 4-0 down but I scored 5 and we won. Everybody loves me, the fans, the media, they all love me.'

'Wonderful,' says his mum, 'Let me tell you about my day. Your father got shot in the street and robbed, your sister and I were ambushed, and our handbags were robbed and now your brother has joined a gang of looters, and all while you were having such great time.'

The young lad is very upset. 'What can I say mum, but I'm really sorry..'

'Sorry?!!! Sorry?!!!' screams his mum, 'it's your f***ing fault we came to Liverpool in the first place!'

I almost bought a house made out of old guitars,

but there were too many strings attached.

I've put on a lot of weight over Christmas, so I decided to phone Weight Watchers.

I asked if they could send somebody round.

They replied: "No problem, we've got lots of them."

All the organs of the body were having a meeting, trying to decide who was the one in charge...

"I should be in charge," said the brain , "Because I run all the body's systems, so without me nothing would happen."

"I should be in charge," said the blood , "Because I circulate oxygen all over so without me you'd waste away."

"I should be in charge," said the stomach," Because I process food and give all of you energy."

"I should be in charge," said the legs, "because I carry the body wherever it needs to go."

"I should be in charge," said the eyes, "Because I allow the body to see where it goes."

"I should be in charge," said the rectum, "Because Im responsible for waste removal."

All the other body parts laughed at the rectum And insulted him, so in a huff, he shut down tight. Within a few days, the brain had a terrible headache, the stomach was bloated, the legs got wobbly, the eyes got watery, and the blood Was toxic. They all decided that the rectum should be the boss

Even though the others do all the work.... The a__hole is usually in charge

My New Year's resolutions are:

1. Stop making lists

   B. Be more consistent

   7. Learn to count

A toothless termite walks into a bar and says "Is the bar tender here?"

“Poor Old fool,” thought the well-dressed gentleman as he watched an old man fish in a puddle outside a pub. So he invited the old man inside for a drink. As they sipped their whiskeys, the gentleman thought he’d humor the old man and asked, “So how many have you caught today?”

The old man replied, “You’re the eighth.”

"To be is to do." --Socrates

"To do is to be." --Spinoza

"Do be do be do." --Sinatra

I poured root beer in a square glass.

Now I just have beer.

A very attractive lady goes up to a bar in a quiet rural pub. She gestures alluringly to the bartender who comes over immediately.

When he arrives, she seductively signals that he should bring his face closer to hers. When he does she begins to gently caress his full beard.

"Are you the manager?" she asks, softly stroking his face with both hands.

"Actually, no," the man replied."

"Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him" she says, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair.

"I'm afraid I can't," breathes the bartender. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes, there is. I need you to give him a message," she continues, running her forefinger across the bartender's lips and slyly popping a couple of her fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently.

"What should I tell him?" the bartender manages to say.

"Tell him," she whispers, "there is no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper towels in the ladies room."

Remember to poop before midnight tonight.

You don't want to be carrying the same sh** into a different year.