cant renember if i posted this afore...

early eighties i was dispatched to cyprus to fight tyranny and spread democracy to the darkest far flung corners of the plannit. after one particularly arduous tough evening on the piss, me and my mate retired to our rooms which shared an adjoining balcony. his half of the balcony was home to the sacred beer fridge. a cursory inspection revealed that along with beer, it contained the component parts of a cheese sandwich.

i duly made myself an alcohol absorbing cheesy doorstep and then, a pang of guilt swept over me... so i asked my mate if he wanted one as well. he declined. then after a few moments, this......

"you didn't use that small knife on top of the fridge did you?"

erm.... why?

"cos i cut my verruca off with it before we went out"

=

...... projectile vomit PB

Posted By: Tombs, Jul 27, 11:19:14