What’s the difference between Spurs and a triangle ? ………………………………………………You’re guaranteed 3 points with a triangle.
Why are men just as bad at making love as they are at driving ?...............
Because they have a tendency to pull out with no regard for who else might be coming !
Rafa Benitez has defended his squad rotation policy, explaining that it keeps the burglars guessing who’ll be at home on match days.
A few jokes
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southampton gooner
- Posts: 540
- Joined: Fri Nov 02, 2007 3:11 pm
- Location: Southampton
- Contact:
-
southampton gooner
- Posts: 540
- Joined: Fri Nov 02, 2007 3:11 pm
- Location: Southampton
- Contact:
Women eh!
Boob jobs, nose jobs, teeth bleaching, tummy tucks, lipo suction, colonic irrigation, botox, pierced ears, nipples, bellys and clits, eyebrows plucked, bikini wax, armpits shaved, lips tattooed, legs waxed, diets, exercise and they STILL wont take it up the arse cause it 'hurts'.
I parked in a disabled space today and a traffic warden shouted to me...
'Oi, what's your disability?'
I said 'Tourettes! Now f*^& off you c***!'
A man is in a queue at Tesco and sees this busty blonde staring at him, he can't believe she is staring at him, then she starts waving.
'Excuse me do I know you?' he asks. 'Yes I think you are the father of one of my kids' she says.
The man thinks back and remembers his one act of infidelity and says 'hell are you the bird I shagged on me stag do, whilst your mate whipped me and your other mate stuck a brush up my arse?'
'No' she replies 'I'm your son's English teacher!'
I said to the wife, 'I thought I saw your name on a loaf of bread today, but when I looked again it said 'Thick Cut' '
What's the difference between Harold Shipman and Tony Blair?
Shipman actually did something about NHS waiting lists.
A bride on her wedding night says to her husband 'I must confess darling, I was a hooker!'.
He says 'That's alright, dear. Your past is your past, but I must admit that I find it quite erotic. Tell me about it'.
She replies 'Well, my name was Nigel, and I played for Wigan !'.
Father Duffy walks into the convent and sees sister rose washing the kitchen floor. He's overcome with desire and pushes her onto the ground. As he's shagging her the Rev Mother comes in.
'SISTER ROSE!!!' she roars 'Have some respect. Arch your back girl and keep Father Duffy's balls off the wet floor!!'
A man says to his wife 'tell me something that will make me happy and sad at the same time'.
His wife replies 'You've got a bigger dick than your brother'
Boob jobs, nose jobs, teeth bleaching, tummy tucks, lipo suction, colonic irrigation, botox, pierced ears, nipples, bellys and clits, eyebrows plucked, bikini wax, armpits shaved, lips tattooed, legs waxed, diets, exercise and they STILL wont take it up the arse cause it 'hurts'.
I parked in a disabled space today and a traffic warden shouted to me...
'Oi, what's your disability?'
I said 'Tourettes! Now f*^& off you c***!'
A man is in a queue at Tesco and sees this busty blonde staring at him, he can't believe she is staring at him, then she starts waving.
'Excuse me do I know you?' he asks. 'Yes I think you are the father of one of my kids' she says.
The man thinks back and remembers his one act of infidelity and says 'hell are you the bird I shagged on me stag do, whilst your mate whipped me and your other mate stuck a brush up my arse?'
'No' she replies 'I'm your son's English teacher!'
I said to the wife, 'I thought I saw your name on a loaf of bread today, but when I looked again it said 'Thick Cut' '
What's the difference between Harold Shipman and Tony Blair?
Shipman actually did something about NHS waiting lists.
A bride on her wedding night says to her husband 'I must confess darling, I was a hooker!'.
He says 'That's alright, dear. Your past is your past, but I must admit that I find it quite erotic. Tell me about it'.
She replies 'Well, my name was Nigel, and I played for Wigan !'.
Father Duffy walks into the convent and sees sister rose washing the kitchen floor. He's overcome with desire and pushes her onto the ground. As he's shagging her the Rev Mother comes in.
'SISTER ROSE!!!' she roars 'Have some respect. Arch your back girl and keep Father Duffy's balls off the wet floor!!'
A man says to his wife 'tell me something that will make me happy and sad at the same time'.
His wife replies 'You've got a bigger dick than your brother'
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On a group of beautiful deserted islands in the middle of nowhere, the
following people are suddenly stranded by, as you might expect, a shipwreck:
2 Italian men and 1 Italian woman
2 French men and 1 French woman
2 German men and 1 German woman
2 Greek men and 1 Greek woman
2 English men and 1 English woman
2 Bulgarian men and 1 Bulgarian woman
2 Japanese men and 1 Japanese woman
2 Chinese men and 1 Chinese woman
2 American men and 1 American woman
2 Irish men and 1 Irish woman
One month later the following things have occurred –
One Italian man killed the other Italian man for the Italian woman.
The two French men and the French woman are living happily together in a menage-a-trois.
The two German men have a strict weekly schedule of alternating visits with the German woman.
The two Greek men are sleeping with each other and the Greek woman is cleaning and cooking for them.
The two English men are waiting for someone to introduce them to the English woman.
The two Bulgarian men took one long look at the endless ocean, another long look at the Bulgarian woman, and started swimming.
The two Japanese men have faxed Tokyo and are awaiting instructions.
The two Chinese men have set up a pharmacy, a liquor store, a restaurant and a laundry, and have got the woman pregnant in order to supply employees for their stores.
The two American men are contemplating the virtues of suicide because the American woman endlessly complains about her body; the true nature of feminism; how she can do everything they can do; the necessity of fulfilment; the equal division of household chores; how sand and palm trees make her arse look fat; how her last boyfriend respected her opinion and treated her nicer than they do; how her relationship with her mother is improving and how at least the taxes are low and it isn't raining.
The two Irish men have divided the island into North and South and set up a distillery. They don't remember if -sex- is in the picture because it gets sort of foggy after the first few litres of coconut whisky. But they’re satisfied because at least the English arent happy
On a group of beautiful deserted islands in the middle of nowhere, the
following people are suddenly stranded by, as you might expect, a shipwreck:
2 Italian men and 1 Italian woman
2 French men and 1 French woman
2 German men and 1 German woman
2 Greek men and 1 Greek woman
2 English men and 1 English woman
2 Bulgarian men and 1 Bulgarian woman
2 Japanese men and 1 Japanese woman
2 Chinese men and 1 Chinese woman
2 American men and 1 American woman
2 Irish men and 1 Irish woman
One month later the following things have occurred –
One Italian man killed the other Italian man for the Italian woman.
The two French men and the French woman are living happily together in a menage-a-trois.
The two German men have a strict weekly schedule of alternating visits with the German woman.
The two Greek men are sleeping with each other and the Greek woman is cleaning and cooking for them.
The two English men are waiting for someone to introduce them to the English woman.
The two Bulgarian men took one long look at the endless ocean, another long look at the Bulgarian woman, and started swimming.
The two Japanese men have faxed Tokyo and are awaiting instructions.
The two Chinese men have set up a pharmacy, a liquor store, a restaurant and a laundry, and have got the woman pregnant in order to supply employees for their stores.
The two American men are contemplating the virtues of suicide because the American woman endlessly complains about her body; the true nature of feminism; how she can do everything they can do; the necessity of fulfilment; the equal division of household chores; how sand and palm trees make her arse look fat; how her last boyfriend respected her opinion and treated her nicer than they do; how her relationship with her mother is improving and how at least the taxes are low and it isn't raining.
The two Irish men have divided the island into North and South and set up a distillery. They don't remember if -sex- is in the picture because it gets sort of foggy after the first few litres of coconut whisky. But they’re satisfied because at least the English arent happy
Drink Alcohol.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, alcohol would be it.
The long-term benefits of alcohol have been consistently misunderstood by
scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my
own drunken experience.
I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your alcohol tolerance.
Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your alcohol tolerance until it's faded.
But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself puking in
a gutter and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much alcohol you drank
and how fabulous it really was.
You are not as sick as you imagine.
Don't worry about where the next beer is coming from. Or worry, but know
that worrying is as effective as trying to pull a page three model after 15 pints of Stella.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your
drink-addled mind, like the unexpected lack of ale in the fridge on some
idle Tuesday.
Drink one thing every day that scares you.
Sing badly.
Be reckless when buying other people drinks.
Don't put up with people who are reckless when buying yours.
Gargle.
Don't waste your time on shandy.
Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in
the end, it's only to the bar.
Make up compliments you received. Return the insults. If you don't succeed
in doing this drink more beer now.
Keep your old ring pulls. Throw away your old cans.
Wretch.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know when you might dry-out in your life.
The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 when they would sober
up. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still haven't.
Get plenty of kebabs.
Don't be too kind to your liver. You'll hardly miss it when it's gone.
Maybe you'll pull, maybe you won't.
Maybe you'll get some bird up the duff, maybe you won't.
Maybe you'll enter rehab at 40, maybe you'll dance the nude conga at your
75th University Reunion.
Whatever you do, congratulate yourself far too much and berate others.
Your choices are half alcohol influenced. So are everybody else's.
Enjoy someone else's body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it
or of what the lads might think of it. It's probably the only time you'll
ever pull.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but on the street with a can of
Special Brew.
Ignore the directions, don't ever follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines, just cut out the pictures and put them on your
wall.
Get to know your parents. You never know when you'll have to tap them for
some cash.
Be nice to your barman. They're your best link to the bar and the person
most likely to stop you getting your head kicked by a bouncer when
paralytic in the future.
Understand that favourite drinks come and go, but with a precious flammable
few you should hold on.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in strength and consistency, because the older
you get, the harder it will be to neck ales like when you were young.
Live in London once, but leave before it makes you a ponce.
Live in Liverpool once, but leave before everything you own gets stolen.
Dribble.
Accept certain inalienable truths:
Beer prices will rise. Bouncers will throw you out. You, too, will get a
hangover.
And when you do, you'll fantasise that when you were young, prices were
reasonable, bouncers couldn't catch you, and hangovers were NEVER as bad as
this.
Respect alcoholics.
Don't expect anyone else to buy you a beer.
Maybe you'll have a huge overdraft. Maybe you'll have a wealthy bird. But
you never know when either one might stop getting you pissed.
Don't mess too much with alcopops or by the time you're 25 you will look
like a faggot.
Be careful whose cheap booze you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.
Cheap booze is a form of rip-off. Dispensing it is a way of fishing old
stock from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the sell-by
date and re-selling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the alcohol.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, alcohol would be it.
The long-term benefits of alcohol have been consistently misunderstood by
scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my
own drunken experience.
I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your alcohol tolerance.
Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your alcohol tolerance until it's faded.
But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself puking in
a gutter and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much alcohol you drank
and how fabulous it really was.
You are not as sick as you imagine.
Don't worry about where the next beer is coming from. Or worry, but know
that worrying is as effective as trying to pull a page three model after 15 pints of Stella.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your
drink-addled mind, like the unexpected lack of ale in the fridge on some
idle Tuesday.
Drink one thing every day that scares you.
Sing badly.
Be reckless when buying other people drinks.
Don't put up with people who are reckless when buying yours.
Gargle.
Don't waste your time on shandy.
Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in
the end, it's only to the bar.
Make up compliments you received. Return the insults. If you don't succeed
in doing this drink more beer now.
Keep your old ring pulls. Throw away your old cans.
Wretch.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know when you might dry-out in your life.
The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 when they would sober
up. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still haven't.
Get plenty of kebabs.
Don't be too kind to your liver. You'll hardly miss it when it's gone.
Maybe you'll pull, maybe you won't.
Maybe you'll get some bird up the duff, maybe you won't.
Maybe you'll enter rehab at 40, maybe you'll dance the nude conga at your
75th University Reunion.
Whatever you do, congratulate yourself far too much and berate others.
Your choices are half alcohol influenced. So are everybody else's.
Enjoy someone else's body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it
or of what the lads might think of it. It's probably the only time you'll
ever pull.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but on the street with a can of
Special Brew.
Ignore the directions, don't ever follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines, just cut out the pictures and put them on your
wall.
Get to know your parents. You never know when you'll have to tap them for
some cash.
Be nice to your barman. They're your best link to the bar and the person
most likely to stop you getting your head kicked by a bouncer when
paralytic in the future.
Understand that favourite drinks come and go, but with a precious flammable
few you should hold on.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in strength and consistency, because the older
you get, the harder it will be to neck ales like when you were young.
Live in London once, but leave before it makes you a ponce.
Live in Liverpool once, but leave before everything you own gets stolen.
Dribble.
Accept certain inalienable truths:
Beer prices will rise. Bouncers will throw you out. You, too, will get a
hangover.
And when you do, you'll fantasise that when you were young, prices were
reasonable, bouncers couldn't catch you, and hangovers were NEVER as bad as
this.
Respect alcoholics.
Don't expect anyone else to buy you a beer.
Maybe you'll have a huge overdraft. Maybe you'll have a wealthy bird. But
you never know when either one might stop getting you pissed.
Don't mess too much with alcopops or by the time you're 25 you will look
like a faggot.
Be careful whose cheap booze you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.
Cheap booze is a form of rip-off. Dispensing it is a way of fishing old
stock from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the sell-by
date and re-selling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the alcohol.
Murphy calls to see his mate Paddy who has a broken leg.
Paddy says "Murphy mi feet are freezin, would ya run up stairs an fetch mi slippers?"
"No bother" Murphy says and runs upstairs.
There are Paddy's two stunning 19 year old twin daughters sitting on their beds.
"Hello girls, yer dad's sent me up here t'shag yer both."
"F*ck off yer liar." They said.
"I'll prove it" says Murphy, so he shouts down stairs "Both of em Pat?"
"Of course what's the point of f*cking one?"
Paddy says "Murphy mi feet are freezin, would ya run up stairs an fetch mi slippers?"
"No bother" Murphy says and runs upstairs.
There are Paddy's two stunning 19 year old twin daughters sitting on their beds.
"Hello girls, yer dad's sent me up here t'shag yer both."
"F*ck off yer liar." They said.
"I'll prove it" says Murphy, so he shouts down stairs "Both of em Pat?"
"Of course what's the point of f*cking one?"
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Red Gunner
- Posts: 5778
- Joined: Sun Nov 18, 2007 6:25 pm
- Location: London
20 Things You Always See or Hear at Non-league Football....
1 A man with a bright red face and enormous flared trousers.
2 The local town nutter who declares that he loves his local team so much and never, ever, misses a game, before mysteriously disappearing somewhere during the second half.
3 The failed tactician. Usually stands behind managers dugouts in a mid-nineties Adidas training coat, Farah slacks and shiny shoes, bellowing out various disastrous instructions to all and sundry.
4 Some old dear selling Bovril for the 61st consecutive season.
5 The players wags - usually huddled together in the few half decent wooden seats that are available. And even at this level they're always stunning... why is that?
6 The half-time raffle where the prizes are mostly things like 4 cans of Mackeson Stout, a box of out of date Terry's All Gold, or a half empty can of Lynx.
7 The condemned stand. In most non-league grounds you encounter a thin piece of red and white tape that's the only thing separating you from certain death on a relic that has stood empty and disused since 1987.
8 Dodgy advertisement hoardings. These usually include a local haulage firm, an Indian takeaway, something where half of the advertisement has dropped off, and a taxi firm that went out of business 3 year ago.
9 A dodgy section of the pitch. Used to great tactical effect by the home team, often resulting in long balls pumped to the sloping left-wing, daisy-cutter shots towards the molehills, and random bounces on the concrete-like goalmouth area.
10 The 40 year old club veteran. Usually a central defender with a nose like a hammer, but sometimes a journeyman ex-pro called Dave, Barry, Mick, or Alan.
11 The desperate Dad. Father of one of the younger players, he spends the entire match shouting and rawping at him in the full knowledge that his lad is never going to be quite good enough to 'make it'. That trial at Brentford will never come around again.
12 The bloke who positions himself near the dug out so he can berate the manager regardless of the team's form or performances. Likes a pint in the social club with the failed tactician.
13 Packets of crisps at the tea bar from manufacturers you've never heard of and that probably don't even exist. Brands like Bensons or His Nibs.
14 The annoying intermittent tannoy system that was given to the club back in 1974 by the local bus corporation. It hardly worked back then, now it just sounds like Norman Collier has taken over the pre-match announcements.
15 The pre-match announcements. Come on, does anybody listen to them ? He could be droning on about balsa wood for all anybody knows. In actual fact, he's usually thanking the local print firm for the match sponsorship or playing records such as "Eye of the Tiger" or anything by Phil Collins.
16 A couple of spectacularly bored six year olds brought along by an elderly relative desperate to institutionalise them into the ways of supporting the local team. Moments after kick off they'll start kicking a discarded Coke can about for the remainder of the match.
17 The fancy-dan wannabe. Easy to spot - he's the only wearing white, gold or red boots. And a hairband. Normally tries a couple of fancy flicks with his first few touches before being taken out by the 40 year old club veteran.
18 Some half-daft old dear on her own in the seats wrapped in a bizarre, home made club scarf and wearing an equally homespun woolly hat. Her mood will swing from quiet benevolence to incandescent rage at any innocuous refereeing decision. There's also a good chance she'll be knitting.
19 The drunk in the social club. He only goes because it was the only place he could get served before all day drinking was allowed. Hasn't yet realised the law was changed in 1989. Even the bloke who positions himself near the dug out and the failed tactician try to avoid him.
20 A massive, clapped out old telly in the social club. It was probably made by PYE.
1 A man with a bright red face and enormous flared trousers.
2 The local town nutter who declares that he loves his local team so much and never, ever, misses a game, before mysteriously disappearing somewhere during the second half.
3 The failed tactician. Usually stands behind managers dugouts in a mid-nineties Adidas training coat, Farah slacks and shiny shoes, bellowing out various disastrous instructions to all and sundry.
4 Some old dear selling Bovril for the 61st consecutive season.
5 The players wags - usually huddled together in the few half decent wooden seats that are available. And even at this level they're always stunning... why is that?
6 The half-time raffle where the prizes are mostly things like 4 cans of Mackeson Stout, a box of out of date Terry's All Gold, or a half empty can of Lynx.
7 The condemned stand. In most non-league grounds you encounter a thin piece of red and white tape that's the only thing separating you from certain death on a relic that has stood empty and disused since 1987.
8 Dodgy advertisement hoardings. These usually include a local haulage firm, an Indian takeaway, something where half of the advertisement has dropped off, and a taxi firm that went out of business 3 year ago.
9 A dodgy section of the pitch. Used to great tactical effect by the home team, often resulting in long balls pumped to the sloping left-wing, daisy-cutter shots towards the molehills, and random bounces on the concrete-like goalmouth area.
10 The 40 year old club veteran. Usually a central defender with a nose like a hammer, but sometimes a journeyman ex-pro called Dave, Barry, Mick, or Alan.
11 The desperate Dad. Father of one of the younger players, he spends the entire match shouting and rawping at him in the full knowledge that his lad is never going to be quite good enough to 'make it'. That trial at Brentford will never come around again.
12 The bloke who positions himself near the dug out so he can berate the manager regardless of the team's form or performances. Likes a pint in the social club with the failed tactician.
13 Packets of crisps at the tea bar from manufacturers you've never heard of and that probably don't even exist. Brands like Bensons or His Nibs.
14 The annoying intermittent tannoy system that was given to the club back in 1974 by the local bus corporation. It hardly worked back then, now it just sounds like Norman Collier has taken over the pre-match announcements.
15 The pre-match announcements. Come on, does anybody listen to them ? He could be droning on about balsa wood for all anybody knows. In actual fact, he's usually thanking the local print firm for the match sponsorship or playing records such as "Eye of the Tiger" or anything by Phil Collins.
16 A couple of spectacularly bored six year olds brought along by an elderly relative desperate to institutionalise them into the ways of supporting the local team. Moments after kick off they'll start kicking a discarded Coke can about for the remainder of the match.
17 The fancy-dan wannabe. Easy to spot - he's the only wearing white, gold or red boots. And a hairband. Normally tries a couple of fancy flicks with his first few touches before being taken out by the 40 year old club veteran.
18 Some half-daft old dear on her own in the seats wrapped in a bizarre, home made club scarf and wearing an equally homespun woolly hat. Her mood will swing from quiet benevolence to incandescent rage at any innocuous refereeing decision. There's also a good chance she'll be knitting.
19 The drunk in the social club. He only goes because it was the only place he could get served before all day drinking was allowed. Hasn't yet realised the law was changed in 1989. Even the bloke who positions himself near the dug out and the failed tactician try to avoid him.
20 A massive, clapped out old telly in the social club. It was probably made by PYE.
A sadist, a masochist, a murderer, a necrophile,
a zoophile and a pyromaniac are all sitting on
a bench in a mental institution.
"Let's have sex with a cat?" asked the zoophile.
"Let's have sex with the cat and then torture
it," says the sadist.
"Let's have sex with the cat, torture it and
then kill it," shouted the murderer.
"Let's have sex with the cat, torture it, kill it
and then have sex with it again," said the necrophile.
"Let's have sex with the cat, torture it, kill it,
have sex with it again and then burn it," said
the pyromaniac.
There was silence, and then the masochist
said: "Meow."
a zoophile and a pyromaniac are all sitting on
a bench in a mental institution.
"Let's have sex with a cat?" asked the zoophile.
"Let's have sex with the cat and then torture
it," says the sadist.
"Let's have sex with the cat, torture it and
then kill it," shouted the murderer.
"Let's have sex with the cat, torture it, kill it
and then have sex with it again," said the necrophile.
"Let's have sex with the cat, torture it, kill it,
have sex with it again and then burn it," said
the pyromaniac.
There was silence, and then the masochist
said: "Meow."
-
I Hate Hleb
- Posts: 18632
- Joined: Wed May 16, 2007 3:36 pm
- Location: London
-
Chunky The Gooner
- Posts: 2732
- Joined: Sun Sep 10, 2006 6:19 pm
- Location: The Kebab Shop
-
Chunky The Gooner
- Posts: 2732
- Joined: Sun Sep 10, 2006 6:19 pm
- Location: The Kebab Shop
