Jokes

I was about to leave the base and go home. Then I noticed a very unwelcome detail: my push bike was punctured... It's so hard sometimes, when life slaps you right in the face, as you least expect it! A little thing can really ruin your mood... In any case I had to do something about it! As I commenced to repair my flat tyre a fellow rider, Adam Velvet, came over smoking a roll-up. I decided to tell a joke, just to pull myself together. It went on about three black fellows taking a leak down the river, while standing on a bridge. "Oh shit!" - said one of them - "The water is so cold!". "Ooh! The bottom is so muddy!" - added the second one. "Aww! Careful gents! There are crawdaddies around that river's bend!" - stated the third one''... I looked at Adam waiting for his reaction. "I don't get it...!" - I knew he was honest with me. "Let me think about another one... Oh! I'm sure you will like this one better!" The second joke was about native Americans collecting a huge quantities of firewood for winter. One of those guys was actually a bit of a thinker and some day asked himself a dramatic question: "Why are we doing it?" So he went to see the chief of his tribe to ask him this question. The chief told him he didn't need to be silly. It was their much respected shaman who had predicted a severe winter to come. Winter came indeed, but it wasn't that cold. Our hero got even more frustrated when a serious firewood picking started again, next year. He tried to persuade the elders of the tribe but they told him he didn't need to be silly. It was their much respected shaman who had predicted a severe winter to come and any complaints fell on deaf ears! The geezer didn't give up. He decided to seek the truth in a big city of palefaces. He found out that those responsible for foretelling the weather are called meteorologists. He got in touch with them and inquired what was the prognosis for the next winter. They told him, they had been expecting the winter to be exceptionally tough. After he asked how did they know that, they politely informed him: "The natives have been collecting firewood, extensively, for two years in a row, you see!" "I don't get it..." - said Adam. I decided the time had come for something well sleazy. "Do you know the one about a prostitute who sucks your cock while whistling your favourite melody?" He didn't. "In a port town, at one of the taverns, a bunch of seamen was chilling, telling stories. One of them recalled an unusual encounter. Once, while visiting a Caribbean island, he found a brothel where a local harlot served him a delicious fellatio, at the same time whistling his favourite melody! He even named that island, that brothel and that girl. Nobody believed him, of course. Some months later a sailor, one of that chilling party, by pure coincidence found himself on that island and in front of that brothel... He couldn't stop himself, stepped in and asked about the girl, who blows while whistling. She was there! Before he could even get surprised she took him to her room, asked about his favourite melody and switched off the light... She really put herself to it, whistling that favourite melody of his and, to be honest, he was very impressed by her performance! Surprisingly he didn't lose his head amongst those guilty pleasures. His hand touched the wall and moving slowly found the switch on it. First thing he saw, after the light went on, was a glass eye on the table..." "I don't get it!" - Said Adam. He seemed annoyed. "What's wrong with you, fellow?!" - I asked him as I really couldn't believe it. Just by that time we were joined by our Argentinian friend Alejandro. I told him Adam had a difficulty understanding jokes. "Hm... How about this one..." Alejandro went on about rich and widely respected señor Ignacio. He was a gentleman in his mid fifties. On the thirtieth anniversary of their wedding his wife came up with a bizarre idea. "I feel like doing something different, honey! I would like us to celebrate in a strip bar!" "In a strip bar? What kind of debauchery is that?!" - señor Ignacio didn't even want to hear about anything like that. She got her way, naturally, and he had to book them a table in the best titty bar of the town. Upon their arrival a hot hostess in the reception area was really pleased to see Ignacio. "Welcome back señor!" - She shouted cheerfully. He got a little bit confused but, after inquiring brusquely if they really knew each other, just informed her that he and his WIFE booked a table for two for the evening. They sat down and were approached by a succulent waitress who greeted him like a good friend. "So good to see you señor! Martini as usual, I suppose! What is the lady drinking?" His wife gave him an alarming look but Ignacio just gulped and said nervously that it had, clearly, to be some misunderstanding and ordered two tequilas. Although he was not happy about it at all, his wife insisted and they ordered a private show. A stunning, nineteen years old stripper came over to entertain them. She pulled a face and gave them a funny look, though.  "What's wrong with you Ignacio!" - exclaimed the lap dancer - "I have never seen you with such an old hag before!" Believe it or not, Adam couldn't quite grasp that one either...

I didn't give up on Adam. Whatever any of you could think about him he IS an intelligent bloke and no one has a right to compare him with, let say, Amir. Few weeks later I told him a joke about a blind touching a cheese grater. A blind fellow touches a grater, frowns and asks: "Who the hell wrote this horseshit?!" Adam thought a while about it and then said without a smile: "It's a good joke!"

A persistent gay demon

One sunny afternoon I was in the corner of Long Acre St. and Drury Lane. People kept passing by indifferently. "Will you take me to Soho?" I looked up. There was a guy next to me. He was gay. And he was drunk. "I've seen those people giving you funny looks but I respect you!" He sat on my trike. "Look at me! I'm not as good as you, but trust me, I'm a demon!" I sighed. I needed a lift. I named a price and he showed me cash. On I went. "Stop! Stop!" He shouted as soon as we got to that pub in the corner of Neal St. and Shelton St. "Tell me what would you like?" He asked. I gave him a questioning look. He carried on: "A pair of jeans? Any other clothes from those shops around? I can get you anything!" "That's very kind of you, however, I basically want to get you to Soho and to charge you for the lift..." He paid me the fare right away and that time I managed to reach Wardour St. before he stopped me again. "I just came from Spain. I've got three businesses there. I'm half Spanish." He announced in his very thick London accent. "Are you half Spanish? Do you speak the language?" "Sure!" "Pues habla conmigo!" The gay demon got quite confused and decided it was about time to change the subject. "Listen!" He went on. "I worked very hard lately, just want to relax. Could you take me to any good brothel?" "Definitely! Let's go!" I moved on but very soon he wanted to stop again, that time in front of GAY Cafe. "So how much money do you want?" I looked at him in puzzlement. "You already paid me. If you want to go to that brothel I'll charge you that much when we get there." "I think I'll stay here. Come for a drink with me." "I can't drink now. I'm driving" "Come for a cake and a coffee " "Thanks but I'd rather be working now." "I see. Take my phone number." I did, just to get rid of him. "Now give me a missed call." "I'm Pay As You Go and out of credit" "Call me tomorrow then! I'm having a big party. You could earn a couple of hundred pounds!" "What a nons!" I thought and deleted his number as soon as I got around the corner.