Friday, March 10, 2023



Hello again Byters, time for some Friday Funnies, the theme today being vegetables. 


As usual, be warned, there is risque content ahead.




George goes inside a market to buy some food...

He got to the vegetable section and said to the lady who was selling the veg:

George: Hello miss!

Lady: Hello sir, how can I help you?

George: Can i please have 5 kilograms of potatoes but can you wrap them individually in a piece of paper?

Lady: Sure! So, she wrapped each potato in a piece of paper, put them in a bag and gave them to George.

George: Can i please have 7 kilograms of onions, but again, can you wrap them individually in paper?

Lady: Aaaa...yeah, why not! So, she took each onion, wrap it in paper, put the onions in the bag and gave them to George.

George: Can i, please, have 4 kilograms of carrots....

Lady: And i assume that you want each carrot wrapped in paper, right?

George: If is still possible, yes please! So, she took each carrot, wrap it in paper, put the carrots in the bag and gave them to George.

Lady: Is there anything else, sir?

George: Yes, what are those black things on your right?

Lady: Oh sir....those are poppy seeds, but they are not for sale...

A woman is shopping in the produce department. She approaches the clerk. “Excuse me, but where is the broccoli?” she asks. He says, “Sorry, we are out of broccoli. Come back tomorrow.”

The woman continues shopping, but approaches the clerk again a few minutes later. “I need broccoli. Where is it?” “Ma’am,” the clerk says, “we are out of broccoli. Come back tomorrow.” The woman seems to understand. But ten minutes go by and she is back. “Where is the broccoli?” Once again, the clerk tells her that they are fresh out of broccoli and to come back in the morning.

The clerk continues stocking the shelves, but soon the woman is back. “ I can’t find the broccoli,” she says. The clerk asks the woman “Excuse me, but could you tell me how to spell dog, like dogmatic?” “D O G”, the woman says. “What about cat, like catastrophe?” “ You spell it C A T.” “Very good,” the clerk says. “What about fuck, like in broccoli?” “There is no fuck in broccoli,” the woman says.

“Exactly,” says the clerk.

I came out to my parents this week, I said I wanted to become a mechanic.

I've already started transmissioning...



A 2003 letter sent to Chris Addison of The Guardian, by UK Inland Revenue:


Dear Mr Addison,

I am writing to you to express our thanks for your more-than-prompt reply to our latest communication, and also to answer some of the points you raise.

I will address them, as ever, in order.

Firstly, I must take issue with your description of our last as a "begging letter". It might perhaps more properly be referred to as a "tax demand". This is how we, at the Inland Revenue, have always, for reasons of accuracy, traditionally referred to such documents.

Secondly, your frustration at our adding to the "endless stream of crapulent whining and panhandling vomited daily through the letterbox on to the doormat" has been noted. However, whilst I have naturally not seen the other letters to which you refer, I would cautiously suggest that their being from "pauper councils, Lombardy pirate banking houses and pissant gas-mongerers" might indicate that your decision to "file them next to the toilet in case of emergencies" is at best a little ill-advised.

In common with my own organisation, it is unlikely that the senders of these letters do see you as a "lackwit bumpkin" or, come to that, a "sodding charity". More likely they see you as a citizen of Great Britain, with a responsibility to contribute to the upkeep of the nation as a whole.

Which brings me to my next point. Whilst there may be some spirit of truth in your assertion that the taxes you pay "go to shore up the canker-blighted, toppling folly that is the Public Services", a moment's rudimentary calculation ought to disabuse you of the notion that the government in any way expects you to "stump up for the whole damned party" yourself. The estimates you provide for the Chancellor's disbursement of the funds levied by taxation, whilst colourful, are, in fairness, a little off the mark. Less than you seem to imagine is spent on "junkets for Bunterish lickspittles" and "dancing whores", whilst far more than you have accounted for is allocated to, for example, "that box-ticking facade of a university system".

A couple of technical points arising from direct queries:

1. The reason we don't simply write "Muggins" on the envelope has to do with the vagaries of the postal system.

2. You can rest assured that "sucking the very marrows of those with nothing else to give" has never been considered as a practice because even if the Personal Allowance didn't render it irrelevant, the sheer medical logistics involved would make it financially unviable.

I trust this has helped. In the meantime, whilst I would not in any way wish to influence your decision one way or the other, I ought to point out that even if you did choose to "give the whole foul jamboree up and go and live in India" you would still owe us the money. Please forward it by Friday.

Yours sincerely,

H J Lee,

Customer Relations.



A farmer was driving a cart full of vegetables to market when he had a head on collision with a semi.

The farmer suffered severe injuries and was in the hospital for several months and was told he would be in pain for the rest of his life. He sued the driver of the semi and they went to court.

In court the driver’s lawyer asks the farmer “When the police arrived, did they ask you how you were feeling?"

Farmer : "Yes.”

Lawyer: "And what did you tell the police officer?”

Farmer: “That i had never felt better in my life."

The judge was amazed at this and the quickly wrote down some notes.

Then the lawyer asked the farmer “Could you tell us exactly what happened when the police officer arrived?”

Farmer: “Well, I was lying in the ditch and the police officer came and looked at my horse . My horse had two broken legs and was screaming in agony . The police officer put his gun to its head and put it out of its misery. Then he went up to my dog that was lying in the ditch next to me. The dog had a broken back and was whining in pain, the police officer put his gun to its head and put it out of its misery. Then he asked me " How are you feeling?"...



Not a vegie limerick but one for Byter Tim, who hails from Jawja . . .

A sweet Georgia peach of high station
Became overnight a sensation,
When she took on Fort Benning
And charged not a pfenning,
Saying, ‘Who could do less for her nation.”

Okay, not a perfect rhyme I admit, but still quite good.

Thank you for your service.





People that don't eat meat are called vegetarians, but what are people that don't eat vegetables?


I heard that beans were John Lennon's favourite vegetable....

.....up until he decided to give peas a chance.

What vegetable do you need when your tyre is flat?


Me and my buddy Milton Spilk used to work in a kitchen, chopping up vegetables.

You have to be careful or you can cut yourself. Old Milt had an accident and got cut up pretty bad.

I felt bad about it, but eventually I decided...

Why cry over Milt Spilk?

Q: What’s long and thin, covered in skin, red in parts, and goes in tarts?

A: Rhubarb.


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