Comedy Club with Austin Knight
At my advanced age, I tend to go to a copious amount of funerals. In my honest opinion, funerals are better than weddings, because there’s still a buffet, but you don’t have to take a present. I don’t like dancing, so I dislike attending weddings. Moreover, at a funeral, doing the Conga from the church to the graveside seems to be frowned upon for some reason. Always read the instructions on funeral invitations carefully, and avoid the terrible mistake I once made. The words “sombre” and “sombrero” look very similar. Apologies once again,
How to pretend you’re in a daytime television advert about your own funeral:
Look about 55 and appear to be fit, fine, wonderful, and well
Be absolutely delighted about pre-planning your funeral
Laugh like a drain with your wife and kids, who also seem to be reveling in the prospect of your eventual demise
Dance around and crack open a magnum of Dom Perignon vintage champagne
Give yourself a Parker pen and a carriage clock so you can partake in the countdown to doomsday
If you feel unwell, don’t Google the symptoms. I’ve gone from having mild dehydration and a headache to being clinically dead two days ago - in just three clicks. It turns out that I have early onset rigor mortis, inflamed metatarsals, and chronic Busman’s Derriere Syndrome, which means that I can’t stand up or sit down which in turn exacerbates my palpitations, and I keep going billious.
Barmy Albert and Non-Stick Nora went to the Scroptan Street car boot sale yesterday, and Albert discovered a really old dusty Elvis record that he’d never come across before. The label said, “Wooden leg.” Nora asked the stall holder: “That’s strange, I thought he sang ‘Wooden Heart’? The lady running the stall replied, “Yes, he did, but this is the Pirate version!”
“Oh My God!” is my favorite expression primarily because if you remove any of the three words, it has the exact same meaning, just in a very different and somewhat austere tone.
For his psychology thesis, a student from Manchester Metropolitan University questioned a deeply troubled hospital patient, who had suffered from an acute emotional trauma: “How did you end up here?What was the nature of your circumstances?” He got his reply: “Well, it all started when I got married, and I reckon I should never have done it. I got hitched to a widow with a grown daughter who then became my stepdaughter. My dad came to visit us, fell in love with my lovely stepdaughter, and then married her. And so, my stepdaughter was now my stepmother. Soon, my wife had a son who was, of course, my dad’s wife. So as I told you, when my stepdaughter married my dad, she was at once my stepmother. Now, since my new son is brother to my stepmother, he also became my uncle. As you know, my wife is my step-grandmother since she is my stepmother’s mother. Don’t forget that my stepmother is my stepdaughter. Remember too, that I am my wife’s grandson. But hold on just a few minutes more. You see, since I’m married to my step-grandmother, I am not only the wife’s grandson and her hubby, but I am also my own grandfather. Now can you understand why I’m having counseling in this place?”