English Humour

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English Humour

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Ссылка на сообщение 3 ноября 2011 г. 21:38  
The most delicious.....
Your English Jokes. Here. Now.|Big Fun!
It's a Barnum and Bailey world,
Just as phony as it can be, But it wouldn't be make-believe If you believed in me.


Ссылка на сообщение 3 ноября 2011 г. 23:29  
yegorfant   ???
Eramos pocos y parió la abuela


Ссылка на сообщение 3 ноября 2011 г. 23:47  
i`m not a sayings bug. but...
yegorfant do ya wanna us to rag?
По возможности, не путешествуйте с мертвецом!


Ссылка на сообщение 18 ноября 2011 г. 14:04  
Dear Tech Support,

Last year I upgraded from Boyfriend 5.0 to Husband 1.0 and I noticed a distinct slowdown in the overall system performance, particularly in the flower and jewellery applications, which operated flawlessly under Boyfriend 5.0 .

In addition, Husband 1.0 uninstalled many other valuable programs, such as
Romance 9.5 and Personal Attention 6.5, and then installed undesirable programs such as NEWS 5.0, MONEY 3.0 and CRICKET 4.1/Base Ball 4.1/Soccer 4.1/Tennis 4.1.

Conversation 8.0 no longer runs, and House cleaning 2.6 simply crashes the system.

Please note that I have tried running Nagging 5.3 to fix these problems, but to no avail.

What can I do?

Desperate Woman
____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________

First, keep in mind, Boyfriend 5.0 is an Entertainment Package, while Husband 1.0 is an operating system.

Please enter command: ithoughtyoulovedme. html and try to download Tears 6.2 and do not forget to install the Guilt 3.0 update.
If that application works as designed, Husband1.0 should then automatically run the applications Jewellery 2.0 and Flowers 3.5.

However, remember, overuse of the above application can cause Husband 1.0 to default to Silence 2.5 or Beer 6.1.
Please note that Beer 6.1 is a very bad program that will download the Farting and Snoring Loudly Beta.

Whatever you do, DO NOT under any circumstances install Mother-In-Law 1.0 (it runs a virus in the background that will eventually seize control of all your system resources.)

In addition, please do not attempt to reinstall the Boyfriend 5.0 program. These are unsupported applications and will crash Husband 1.0.

In summary, Husband 1.0 is a great program, but it does have limited memory and cannot learn new applications quickly.
You might consider buying additional software to improve memory and performance.
We recommend: Cooking 3.0 and Hot Looks 7.7.
Священная война - тоже война. Поэтому мне кажется, что священных войн не должно быть. (У. Эко)


Ссылка на сообщение 24 ноября 2011 г. 00:02  
Just spent about an hour literally rolling on the floor watching the Fascinating Aida show. Could not quote everything worth quoting — would need to quote every minute of it, but simply loved this one "This card we got from Lady Cardigan Fitz-Badly..." and off I went into a fit of hiccups :-D
Eramos pocos y parió la abuela


Ссылка на сообщение 24 ноября 2011 г. 00:24  
You probably forgot to purchase an important extension pack to your Husband 1.0 — Lover 6.0.
Please, follow this link to fix the problem

Remember, you should not forget to prolong your Lover license every year despite its autoincreasing price.


Ссылка на сообщение 25 ноября 2011 г. 20:09  
Try to guess who is the character of this short story8-)

скрытый текст (кликните по нему, чтобы увидеть)

A Chinese man walks into a bar and orders
a stoli with a twist. Chinese people cannot
pronounce ‘l” and replace it with “r,” so a barman
hears “a story with a twist.” “OK,” replays barman,
not a bit surprised, “Once upon a time...”
                                                                       A bar joke

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red.
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.
                          “Ballad of Reading Gaol,” Oscar Wilde

He looked around. He was sitting on the bed in the middle of a small wooden cottage. It looked neat: patchwork quilt with intricate pattern laying on the bed, hand knitted doilies on the top of the dresser and the table, floor covered with rag rugs of many bright colors, vintage chest in the corner, and the large antique mirror dimly glowing near the entrance. The cottage would have been cozy if not for the smell that penetrated every corner, the smell of the old woman who lived here. Despite the smell, the place felt homelike. It could have been my home, he thought. But the old woman never let him in – until he came uninvited. Did she sense it was her fate coming, he wondered.
He belched, covered his mouth, and muttered excuse-moi – to nobody, for he was alone in the cottage. The old woman’s round spectacles and shawl were left on the small table near the rocking chair. He got up and walked across the room; a sudden movement by the door made his heart drop – but in a moment he realized it was his reflection in the mirror. He came closer and took a long look at the mirrored self; shaggy image with bulging eyes and big, jutting ears was looking back at him. In a suit of shabby grey, he thought, quoting his favorite poem. He exhaled a sigh, turned around, approached the rocking chair, and picked up the glasses. Slowly, he traced the frame. Unsatisfied longing, the feeling that haunted him all his life, consumed him again. I feel empty inside, he reflected, and the irony of this thought made him smile. Oh, what a sad smile it was. He sat down in the rocking chair and started to rock. Half asleep from the soothing motion, he yawned. He closed his eyes, but vivid pictures of what happened in the cottage just an hour ago kept him awake. He always has good memory and lively imagination – since his childhood.
He opened his eyes and looked around once more. The framed pictures on the walls, many pictures of generations of people who lived in this cottage in love and acceptance, were staring at him. His life would have been so different had he ever felt loved and accepted... An unwanted child, almost a changeling, he never knew the love of his parents. His father disappeared before he was born. His mother left him alone — a crying, scared child – for long, long hours. Since he remembered himself, he remembered the longing he felt, longing to be loved, to be accepted. To belong. He never had friends. Nobody ever wanted to play with him. As though his coevals were afraid of him, they scattered the moment he appeared. His mother did not want him to learn anything not needed for survival. He taught himself to read when he found the abandoned cabin at the edge of the forest, the cabin filled with books. A long gone owner of the cabin fancied poetry, and the first poem he read was Oscar Wilde’s “Ballad of Reading Gaol,” the poem that became and remained his favorite. Even the name of the author was meaningful to him, bearing the resemblance with his life, with the image that was imposed upon him and plagued him; the image he eventually grew into. The poetry books were his only friends and companions when he was little. They still were...
His eyes paused on the picture of a girl smiling happily. It was the girl he met earlier today, round-cheeked, innocent, and kind. He was watching her many months, adoring her silently, but that was the first time they’ve talked. Their short conversation was ordinary and nearly meaningless, but he could have sworn he’d heard a promise in her voice. But when she had come to the cottage...I would have became her dog, he thought with a sudden surge of rage, I would have licked her feet! I would have worn a chain for her! But no, all I can offer was no good for her. He had known before it all started that the old woman, settled in her ways, had to go, but he was hoping the girl will understand him, will accept him. But no, she had to ridicule him, just like everybody else. She was making fun of his looks, of his eyes and ears. She did not bother to see deeper that the skin; she did not care what he felt, who he was inside. Did she have to ask all these questions? Did she enjoy humiliating him? The rage left him as suddenly as it came. He felt no regret, either; what has happened was bound to happen. Yet each man kills the thing he loves, he thought of his favorite poem once again, The kindest use a knife, because the dead so soon grow old. At least, it went fast.
Besides, whom was he trying to fool? Like in his childhood, a changeling again, he pretended to be somebody he was not, and it did not help him. It could not possibly have helped him, because there was no place for him in this girl’s world. He never had a chance.
He heard voices from outside — men’s voices, loud and angry – and then, almost immediately, a knock on the door. Hopelessly, he got up and went to the door, catching a quick glimpse of himself in the mirror. The last glimpse. I always knew this is how it ends, he mused. For each man kills the thing he loves, yet each man does not die. He touched the door knob. Behind him, tucked between two mattresses, a scarlet piece of fabric was sticking out – betraying and revealing. A little red hood.
Священная война - тоже война. Поэтому мне кажется, что священных войн не должно быть. (У. Эко)


Ссылка на сообщение 25 ноября 2011 г. 22:43  
Galka, a wolf? (it is the most obvious answer8:-0, but I'm not sure).
Утешила... Зар-раза...


Ссылка на сообщение 26 ноября 2011 г. 13:01  
Red Goblin Bingo!
Священная война - тоже война. Поэтому мне кажется, что священных войн не должно быть. (У. Эко)


Ссылка на сообщение 26 ноября 2011 г. 18:13  
I like the text:-). Who is the author?
Утешила... Зар-раза...


Ссылка на сообщение 27 ноября 2011 г. 20:46  
Red Goblin Russian student in USA Elena Timofeeva. They've got a task — to write a short composition on the subject: First minutes after murder:-)))
Священная война - тоже война. Поэтому мне кажется, что священных войн не должно быть. (У. Эко)


Ссылка на сообщение 28 ноября 2011 г. 17:29  
Using the Ballad of the Reding Gaol was clever :)
Eramos pocos y parió la abuela


Ссылка на сообщение 29 декабря 2011 г. 17:35  
Here is a splendid little verse dealing with the difficulties of English pronunciation :-D   :

The Chaos

Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Suzy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye, your dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.
Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it's written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as plaque and ague.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.
Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.
Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation's OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.
Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
And then singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.
Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem little,
We say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Foeffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific.
Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.
Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.
Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion and battalion.
Sally with ally, yea, ye,
Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.
Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.
Heron, granary, canary.
Crevice and device and aerie.
Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Do not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.
Pronunciation -- think of Psyche!
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won't it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It's a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wight,
Housewife, verdict and indict.
Finally, which rhymes with enough–
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give it up!!!
—Gerald Nolst Trenite (1870-1946)
Eramos pocos y parió la abuela


Ссылка на сообщение 14 января 2012 г. 10:43  
From LJ


Did you know that the Russian word for "sock" is "no sock"?
Священная война - тоже война. Поэтому мне кажется, что священных войн не должно быть. (У. Эко)


Ссылка на сообщение 19 мая 2012 г. 04:22  
it's so empty here.
Ad cogitandum et agendum homo natus est
Ad aeternum


Ссылка на сообщение 18 июня 2012 г. 11:31  
I don't remember exactly but that is what I still have in memory.

High school. Professor writes a note on the desk for his students before leaving:
All today's classes will be held tomorrow. Same place, same time.

A few moments later he hears the students laughing, looks back and sees:
All today's lasses will be held tomorrow. Same place, same time.

The professor returns, wipes out one more letter and leaves the room.


Ссылка на сообщение 18 июня 2012 г. 12:47  
Without geometry life is pointless.
I went to the bank yesterday. I asked the banker to check my balance. And he... he pushed me!!!
I'm reading a book about anti-gravity. It's impossible to put down.
Two pencils decided to have a race. The outcome was a draw.
The guy who invented the doorknocker got a No-bell prize.
An invisible man marries an invisible woman. The kids were nothing to look at either
It's not that the man did not know how to juggle, he just didn't have the balls to do it.


Ссылка на сообщение 18 июня 2012 г. 12:52  

цитата V-a-s-u-a

An invisible man marries an invisible woman. The kids were nothing to look at either


Ссылка на сообщение 24 июня 2012 г. 23:58  
A writer dies and Saint Peter offers him the choice of Hell or Heaven. To see what he has in store Saint Peter takes him to Hell where rows of writers are chained to their desks being whipped by demons in a steaming dungeon. However, when they get to Heaven the writer is astonished to see that nothing has changed – rows of writers are chained to their desks in a steaming dungeon being whipped. ‘Hey!’ says the writer, ‘this is just as bad as Hell!’ ‘No, it’s not,’ replies Saint Peter. ‘Up here you get published.

Always try to read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.

An artist asks the gallery owner if there has been any interest in his paintings. ‘I have good news and bad news,’ the owner replies. ‘The good news is that a gentleman enquired about your work and wondered if it would appreciate in value after your death. When I told him it would, he bought all 15 of your paintings.’ ‘That’s wonderful,’ the artist exclaims. ‘What’s the bad news?’ The owner replies, ‘The guy was your doctor…’
Eramos pocos y parió la abuela


Ссылка на сообщение 2 июля 2012 г. 15:47  
All of them are excellent! Espesially the one about writers))) :-))):-))):-))):-)))
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