I don’t think you’d have a leg to stand on if you did
So there was this man in Bulgaria who drove trains for a living. He loved his job. Driving a train had been his dream ever since he was a child. He loved to make the train go as fast as possible. Unfortunately, one day he was a little too reckless and caused a crash. He made it out, but a single person died. Well, needless to say, he went to court over this incident. He was found guilty, and was sentenced to death by electrocution. When the day of the execution came, he requested a single banana as his last meal. After eating the banana, he was strapped into the electric chair. The switch was flown, sparks flew, and smoke filled the air - but nothing happened. The man was perfectly fine.
Well, at the time, there was an old Bulgarian law that said a failed execution was a sign of divine intervention, so the man was allowed to go free. Somehow, he managed to get his old job back driving the train. Having not learned his lesson at all, he went right back to driving the train with reckless abandon. Once again, he caused a train to crash, this time killing two people. The trial went much the same as the first, resulting in a sentence of execution. For his final meal, the man requested two bananas. After eating the bananas, he was strapped into the electric chair. The switch was thrown, sparks flew, smoke filled the room - and the man was once again unharmed.
Well, this of course meant that he was free to go. And once again, he somehow managed to get his old job back. To what should have been the surprise of no one, he crashed yet another train and killed three people. And so he once again found himself being sentenced to death. On the day of his execution, he requested his final meal: three bananas.
“You know what? No,” said the executioner. “I’ve had it with you and your stupid bananas and walking out of here unharmed. I’m not giving you a thing to eat; we’re strapping you in and doing this now.” Well, it was against protocol, but the man was strapped in to the electric chair without a last meal. The switch was pulled, sparks flew, smoke filled the room - and the man was still unharmed. The executioner was speechless.
The man looked at the executioner and said, “Oh, the bananas had nothing to do with it. I’m just a bad conductor.”
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The world’s leading expert on European wasps walks into a record shop.
He asks the assistant “Do you have ‘European Vespidae Acoustics Volume 2? I believe it was released this week.”
“Certainly,” replies the assistant. “Would you like to listen before you buy it?”
“That would be wonderful,” says the expert, and puts on a pair of headphones.
He listens for a few moments and says to the assistant, “I’m terribly sorry, but I am the world’s leading expert on European wasps and this is not accurate at all. I don’t recognize any of those sounds. Are you sure this is the correct recording?”
The assistant checks the turntable, and replies that it is indeed European Vespidae Acoustics Volume 2. The assistant apologizes and lifts the needle onto the next track.
Again the expert listens for a few moments and then says to the assistant, “No, this just can’t be right! I’ve been an expert in this field for 43 years and I still don’t recognize any of these sounds.”
The assistant apologizes again and lifts the needle to the next track.
The expert throws off the headphones as soon as it starts playing and is fuming with rage.
“This is outrageous false advertising! I am the world’s leading expert on European wasps and no European wasp has ever made a sound like the ones on this record!”
The manager of the shop overhears the commotion and walks over.
“What seems to be the problem, sir?”
“This is an outrage! I am the world’s leading expert on European wasps. Nobody knows more about them than I do. There is no way in hell that the sounds on that record were made by European wasps!”
The manager glances down and notices the problem instantly.
“I’m terribly sorry, sir. It appears we’ve been playing you the bee side.”
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Thats already been posted. 
my bad!!!
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apologies to anyone on these forums that receives an private message from me. Please ignore as it’s an automatic message sent out, about a deal to purchase tinned meat. It’s just spam…
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An elderly Digger lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite ANZAC biscuits wafting up the stairs.
He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs.
With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen.
Were it not for death’s agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favourite ANZAC biscuits.
Was it heaven?
Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself toward the table, landing on his knees in a rumpled posture. His ravenous lips parted, the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth, bringing him back to life.
The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife.
“Nick off" she said, “they’re for the funeral.”
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I told a great joke on a Teams call yesterday.
Nobody laughed though, turns out I’m not even remotely funny
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me and my mates were trying to work out what to call a medieval soldier… it got late so we called it a knight
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Heavily dependent on the area youre looking at. In the Ottoman Empire, they would have been called Jannisaries, in Egypt, Mamaluks. Europe generally had men at arms. Knights were more your lords and rich people rather than your regular “soldiers”
Knights in white satin,
never reaching the end,
letter’s I’ve written,
never meaning to send …
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Circles and rings, dragons and kings
Weaving a charm and a spell
Blessed by the night, holy and bright
Called by the toll of the bell
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Little Johnny is in class one day in school learning about diseases. His teacher stands up and writes the word ‘contagious’ on the blackboard, and asks the class to use the word in a sentence to see if they understand the meaning of the word. A few hands shoot in the area, and the teach picks Mary first.
“I had COVID-19 last year, and that is really contagious”.
“Very good Mary” the teacher beams at her. “That’s right, COVID-19 is very contagious. Who else can use the word in a sentence?”
A few more hands shoot in the air. The teach points to Christopher in the far back corner of the room.
“Ummm, Yawning is contagious”. Christopher lets out a big yawn, and a few of the students start yawning as well.
“Well, it’s not been scientifically confirmed, but yes, yawning does seem to be contagious. When someone yawns, we have the urge to yawn as well” the teacher responds, nodding approvingly.
“Who else can use contagious in a sentence?” She asks, her eyes roving about the class. She spies Little Johnny shoot his hand in the air desperately. The teacher is somewhat reluctant to pick Johnny, as he’s a bit of trouble, always disrupting the class in some way or another. She highly doubts that he knows the meaning of the word, let alone how to use the word correctly in a sentence.
“Oi miss, miss! I know, I know! Pick me, pick me” Johnny is straining at his seat, his arm stretched as far as it will go in his shoulder socket.
The teach sighs inwardly, surely he can’t be that disruptive with this.
“Go on, Johnny” she says with a reluctance in her voice.
“Well, over the weekend my Dad and I were playing footy in the front yard and across the street we saw our neighbor painting his house. And he was using a tiny little paintbrush, and my neighbors got like a massive house, two-story’s, and he’s painting away with this little paintbrush, and my dad turns to me and says “What an idiot, it’s gonna take that contagious”.
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