This from my friend Julie in Australia.
A duck walks into a pub and orders a pint of beer and a ham sandwich.
The barman looks at him and says, “Hang on! You’re a duck.”
“I see your eyes are working,” replies the duck.
“And you can talk!” exclaims the barman.
“I see your ears are working, too,” says the duck. “Now if you don’t mind, may I have my beer and my sandwich please?”
“Certainly, sorry about that”, says the barman as he pulls the duck’s pint. “It’s just we don’t get many ducks in this pub. What are you doing round this way?”
“I’m working on the building site across the road,” explains the duck. “I’m a plasterer.”
The flabbergasted barman cannot believe the duck and wants to learn more, but takes the hint when the duck pulls out a newspaper from his bag and proceeds to read it.
So, the duck reads his paper, drinks his beer, eats his sandwich, bids the barman good day and leaves.
The same thing happens for two weeks.
Then one day the circus comes to town.
The ringmaster comes into the pub for a pint and the barman says to him, “You’re with the circus, aren’t you? Well, I know this duck that could be just brilliant in your circus. He talks, drinks beer, eats sandwiches, reads the newspaper and everything!”
“Sounds marvellous,” says the ringmaster, handing over his business card. “Get him to give me a call.”
So the next day when the duck comes into the pub the barman says, “Hey Mr. Duck, I reckon I can line you up with a top job, paying really good money.”
“I’m always looking for the next job,” says the duck. “Where is it?”
“At the circus,” says the barman.
“The circus?” repeats the duck.
“That’s right,” replies the barman.
“The circus?” the duck asks again, “with the big tent?”
“Yeah,” the barman replies.
“With all the animals who live in cages and performers who live in caravans?” says the duck.
“Of course,” the barman replies.
“And the tent has canvas sides and a big canvas roof with a hole in the middle?” persists the duck.
“That’s right!” says the barman.
The duck shakes his head in amazement, and says, “What the f**k would they want with a plasterer??!”
Have we had this before? Hmm, who knows, who cares.
There were two evil brothers who were rich and used their money to hide their ways from the public eye. They even attended the same church and looked to be perfect Christians.
Then, their pastor retired, and a new one was hired. Not only could he see right through the brothers’ deception, but he also spoke well and true, and the church started to swell in numbers. A fundraising campaign was started to build a new assembly.
All of a sudden, one of the brothers died. The surviving brother sought out the new pastor the day before the funeral and handed him a check for the amount needed to finish paying for the new building.
“I have only one condition,” he said. “At his funeral, you must say my brother was a saint.” The pastor gave his word and deposited the check.
The next day, at the funeral, the pastor did not hold back. “He was an evil man,” he said. “He cheated on his wife and abused his family.” He went on and on in this vein and the surviving brother was clearly fuming in his seat.
“But,” the pastor concluded, “compared to his brother, he was a saint!”
On His 74th birthday Reg got a gift certificate from his Wife. The Certificate paid for a visit to a medicine man living on a nearby Reservation who was rumored to have a wonderful cure for erectile Dysfunction. After being persuaded, he drove to the reservation and handed his ticket to the medicine man.
The old man handed a potion to him and with a grip on his shoulder warned, “This is a powerful medicine. You take only a teaspoonful and then say ‘1-2-3.’ When you do, you will become more manly than you have ever been in your life and you can perform as long as you want.”
The man was encouraged. As he walked away, he turned and asked, “How do I stop the medicine from working?”
“Your partner must say ‘1-2-3-4,'” he responded, “but when she does, the medicine will not work again until the next full moon.”
He was very eager to see if it worked so he went home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine and then invited his wife to join him in the bedroom. When she came in, he took off his clothes and said, “1-2-3”! Immediately, he was the manliest of men.
His wife was excited and began throwing off her clothes and then she asked, “What was the 1-2-3 for?”
And that, boys and girls, is why we should never end our sentences with a preposition because we could end up with a dangling participle.