Writing's not the same, yeah, but since it's to be a while before I can tell it in person, reckon we're short of other options. But hell. If you're wanting to talk about what happened instead, be my ruddy guest.
Fuck Tony, you don't need to apologise. I'm just bloody sorry it happened.
Alright, now this one's not the sort that'd win any awards, but the kind that's so sodding bad, you've no option but to ruddy roll your eyes to keep yourself from cracking a grin. This here's the precursor to the better one.
There's this bloke sitting at a bar, getting pissed off his arse. This witch comes up behind him, raises her arm, and calls out to the publican. Now this witch, she's'n't ever shaved a day in her life, so she's a whole other head of hair under her arm. The bloke glances up at her, then shouts to the publican, "Oi! Get this ballerina 'ere a drink." The publican obliges and the witch goes off on her merry way.
A little while later, she comes back, raises her arm again, and tries to get the publican's attention. The bloke looks up at her then shouts at the publican again, "Oi! Get this ballerina 'ere a drink!" The publican obliges once more and the witch thanks him and the old pisser and goes back to her mates.
Then it happens a third time - the witch comes back, raises her arm, calls for the publican, the pisser looks up at her, shouts to the publican again ("Oi! Get this ballerina 'ere a drink!"), and he swiftly gets her order. Once the witch leaves this time, the publican leans over and asks the old pisser, "Why do you reckon she's a ballerina?"
The old pisser takes a swallow of his firewhisky and replies, "Did you see 'ow far she can lift her leg? She 'as to be a ballerina".
Hahahaahahaahahahqahaaaaghaha! Taht's sodin brillliant mate, yuo should see teh loook on Padmas face reading it, shes all redd, its absobloddylutely brilliant!
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Fuck, it... not much to talk about. It happened. I'm sorry I didn't tell you myself.
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Alright, now this one's not the sort that'd win any awards, but the kind that's so sodding bad, you've no option but to ruddy roll your eyes to keep yourself from cracking a grin. This here's the precursor to the better one.
What'd the hat say to the bra?
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What?
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There's this bloke sitting at a bar, getting pissed off his arse. This witch comes up behind him, raises her arm, and calls out to the publican. Now this witch, she's'n't ever shaved a day in her life, so she's a whole other head of hair under her arm. The bloke glances up at her, then shouts to the publican, "Oi! Get this ballerina 'ere a drink." The publican obliges and the witch goes off on her merry way.
A little while later, she comes back, raises her arm again, and tries to get the publican's attention. The bloke looks up at her then shouts at the publican again, "Oi! Get this ballerina 'ere a drink!" The publican obliges once more and the witch thanks him and the old pisser and goes back to her mates.
Then it happens a third time - the witch comes back, raises her arm, calls for the publican, the pisser looks up at her, shouts to the publican again ("Oi! Get this ballerina 'ere a drink!"), and he swiftly gets her order. Once the witch leaves this time, the publican leans over and asks the old pisser, "Why do you reckon she's a ballerina?"
The old pisser takes a swallow of his firewhisky and replies, "Did you see 'ow far she can lift her leg? She 'as to be a ballerina".
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Yeah, sure, if you can manage it.
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hhhi, mike. see, took yuor advice.
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Yeah? Why's it important?