on her kitchen table when we heard the front door open.
She said “it’s my husband! Quick, try the back door.”
Thinking back, I really should have ran but you don’t get offers like that every day.
“Woah, what the hell happened to him?”
“Well he was on his way over to my house, when he arrived he didn’t brake properly and boom he hit the curb. The car flipped over, he crashed through the sunroof, went flying through the air and smashed through my upstairs bedroom window.”
“What a horrible way to die!”
“No no, he survived that, that didn’t kill him at all. So, he’s landed in my upstairs bedroom and he’s all covered in broken glass on the floor. Then, he spots the big old antique wardrobe we have in the room and reaches up for the handle to try to pull himself up. He’s just dragging himself up when bang, this massive wardrobe comes crashing down on top of him, crushing him and breaking most of his bones.”
“What a way to go, that’s terrible!”
“No no, that didn’t kill him he survived that. He managed to get the wardrobe off him and crawls out onto the landing, he tries to pull himself up on the banister but under his weight, the banister breaks and he goes falling down on to the first floor. In mid air, all the broken banister poles spin and fall on him, pinning him to the floor, sticking right through him.”
“Now that is the most unfortunate way to go!”
“No no, that didn’t kill him, he even survived that. So he’s on the downstairs landing, just beside the kitchen. He crawls in to the kitchen, tries to pull himself up on the stove, but reached for a big pot of boiling hot water, whoosh, the whole thing came down on him and burned most of his skin off him.”
“Poor guy, what a way to go!”
“No no, he survived that, he survived that! He’s lying on the ground, covered in boiling water and he spots the phone and tries to pull himself up, to call for help, but instead he grabs the light switch and pulls the whole thing off the wall and the water and electricity didn’t mix and so he got electrocuted, wallop, 10,000 volts shot through him.”
“Now that is one awful way to go!”
“No no, he survived that…”
“Hold on now, just how the hell did he die?”
“I shot him!”
“You shot him? What the hell did you shoot him?”
“He was wrecking my house.”
A girl I know said the last time she had sex, it was like the men’s Olympic 100 meter final.
I laughed, “What? Over in 9.5 seconds?”
“No,” she said, “Eight black men and a gun.”
In the bar the other day I was telling that old joke about what do you do if you see an epileptic having a fit in the bathtub. The answer, of course, being…throw in your wash.
We were all having a good laugh about this when this big bastard tapped me on the shoulder and said, “I don’t find that very funny. My brother was an epileptic and he died in the bath during one of his fits.”
I said, “I Sorry, buddy. Did he drown?”
“No,” he replied, “He choked on a sock.”