British Hospitality

An American tourist in London decides to leave his tour group
and explore the city on his own.

He wanders around, seeing the sights, and occasionally stopping at a quaint pub to soak up the local culture with the lads, and have a pint of Guinness.

After awhile, he finds himself in a very high class neighbourhood ..... big, stately residences ..... no pubs, no stores, no restaurants, and worst of all.........
NO PUBLIC RESTROOMS.

He really, really has to go, after all those Guinness's. He finds a narrow side street with high walls surrounding the adjacent buildings and decides to use the wall to solve his problem. As he is unzipping, he is tapped on the shoulder by a London Bobbie, who says, "I say, sir, you simply cannot do that here, you know."

"I'm very sorry, officer," replies the American, "but I really, really HAVE TO GO,
and I just can't find a public restroom."

"Ah, yes," said the Bobbie..."Just follow me." He leads him to a back "delivery alley," then along a wall to a gate, which he opens.

"In there," points the Bobbie. "Whiz away sir, anywhere you want."

The fellow enters and finds himself in the most beautiful garden he has ever seen. Manicured grass lawns, statuary, fountains, sculptured hedges, and huge beds of gorgeous flowers, all in perfect bloom.

Since he has the cop's blessing, he unburdens himself and is greatly relieved.
As he goes back through the gate, he says to the Bobbie, "That was really decent of you ... is that what you call, "British Hospitality?"

"No sir," ... replied the Bobbie,... "that is what we call the French Embassy."

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LIFE IN THE AUSTRALIAN ARMY

Text of a letter from a kid from Eromanga to Mum and Dad. (For those of you not in the know, Eromanga is a small town west of Quilpie in the far south west of Queensland)

Dear Mum & Dad,

I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army is better than workin' on the farm – tell them to get in bloody Quick smart before the jobs are all gone!

I wuz a bit slow in settling down at first, because ya don't hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I like sleeping in now, cuz all yagotta do before brekky is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No bloody cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin'!!

Ya haz gotta shave though, but its not so bad, coz there's lotsa hot water and even a light to see what ya doing!

At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks or possum stew like wot Mum makes. You don't get fed again until noon, and by that time all the city boys are buggered because we've been on a 'route march' - geez its only just like walking to the windmill in the back paddock!!

This one will kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep getting medals for shootin' - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a bloody possum's bum and it don't move and its not firing back at ya like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target - its a piece of piss!! You even load your own cartridges - they comes in little boxes and ya don't have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you reload!

Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home after the muster.

Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either and it looks like I'm the best the platoon's got, and I've only been beaten by

this one bloke from the Engineers - he's 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pick handles across the shoulders and as ya know I'm only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin' wet, but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off to the boozer.

I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick before word gets around how bloody good it is.

Your loving daughter,

Sheila

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Little girl: "Grandpa, can you make a noise like a frog?"
Grandpa: "I suppose so. Why do you ask?"
Little girl: "It's just that Mum said when you croak, we're all going to Disneyland."

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A London lawyer runs a stop sign and gets pulled over by a Glasgow copper.
He thinks that he is smarter than the cop because he is a London lawyer from London and is certain that he has a better education then any Jock cop.
He decides to prove this to himself and have some fun at the Glasgow cops expense !!

Glasgow cop says," Licence and registration, please."

London Lawyer says, "What for?"

Glasgow cop says, "You didn't come to a complete stop at the stop sign."

London Lawyer says, "I slowed down, and no one was coming."

Glasgow cop says, "You still didn't come to a complete stop. Licence and registration, please."

London Lawyer says, "What's the difference?"

Glasgow cop says, "The difference is, you have to come to complete stop,  that's the law.
Licence and registration, please!"

London Lawyer says, "If you can show me the legal difference between slow down and stop,
I'll give you my licence and registration; and you give me the ticket.
If not, you let me go and don't give me the ticket."

Glasgow cop says, "Sounds fair. Exit your vehicle, sir."

The London Lawyer exits his vehicle. The Glasgow cop takes out his baton and starts beating the f**k out of the lawyer and says, "Do you want me to stop, or just slow down?"