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Coffee House => Coffee House Boards => CH / Entertainment => Topic started by: Cyberus on September 06, 2005, 07:46:47 AM
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British Hospitality
An American tourist in London decides to skip the tour group and explore
the city on his own. He wanders around, seeing the sights, occasionally
stopping at a quaint pub to soak up the local culture, chat with the lads, and
have a pint of stout.
After a while, he finds himself in a very high class neighborhood, big
stately residences, no pubs, no stores, no restaurants, and worst of all,
NO PUBLIC RESTROOMS.
He really, really had to go, after all those stouts.
He finds a narrow side street, with high walls surrounding the adjacent
buildings, and decides to use the wall to solve his problem.
As he unzipping, he is tapped on the shoulder by a London Bobby, who says, "I say sir."
"I'm very sorry Officer," replies the American, "but I really, reallyHAVE TO GO, and I can't find a public restroom."
"Ah yes," says the Bobby, "just follow me sir."
He leads him to a back "delivery alley", then along a wall to a gate, which he opens.
"In there," points the Bobby. "Whiz away, sir, anywhere you want." The
fellow enters and finds himself in the most beautiful garden he has ever
seen, manicured grass lawns, statues, fountains, sculptured hedges, and
huge beds of gorgeous flowers, all in perfect bloom. Since he has the cop's
blessing, he unburdens himself and is greatly relieved.
As he goes back through the gate, he says to the Bobby, "that was really
decent of you. Is that what you call 'British Hospitality'?"
"No sir," replies the Bobby, "that is what we call the French Embassy."
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:roflmao: :roflmao: :roflmao:
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:lol:
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That reminds me of another one:
A conman had developed a routine where he would go out into wealthy suburbs and try to get food and money from the wealthy residents. He would dress in old clothes, adopt a very humble pose and knock on the door of any house that had at least a Jag or two parked out front. When the owner opened the door, the conman would produce a dog turd that he had scooped up on a piece of cardboard and would say:
"I am sorry to trouble you sir, but I have found myself on hard times of late. I am terribly hungry but all I have found to eat is this dog's dropping. I wonder if you could spare me just a pinch of salt so that it will be more palatable."
Of course, the owner would then say no, no, you can't eat that! Come inside for a proper meal (or to save the plush furnishings from dirty scuff marks, they usually gave him some money so he could buy a proper meal.)
Now, one cold winters day, the man found himself at the door of a mansion in the country, a very impressive estate with stables and much finery. He rang the doorbell.
When the owner answered, he showed him the dog turd and asked for some salt.
"Good heavens!" exclaimed the owner, "you can't eat that, even with salt! Come round to the stables for a warm one!"
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Way back when, I was working in the office of a haulage firm owned by a Dutch company. The office was a real mxiture of nationalities with a German, a Swede and a couple of Dutchmen.
After a playful exchange of banter, one Dutch chap turned to my boss and said:
"You know why the sun never set on the British Empire?"
"No"
"Because even the good lord didn't trust you b*st*rds in the dark"
:lol:
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:-D
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@PMC
:lol: