Friday, June 18, 2021



The first item in the Friday Funnies below is dedicated to father in law Noel and son Thomas, who like their chilis hot and who take a perverse pride in so doing. Not I, good sirs – once it becomes an ordeal to eat, the enjoyment of the food is lost. Noel once purchased some bottles of a local chili sauce, shown below, for his grandson Thomas, with both of them making delighted groaning sounds as they ate it:

No doubt both will have a laugh at the item below.

Stay well readers.



Notes from an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting Texas from the East Coast:

Recently I was honoured to be selected as an outstanding famous celebrity in Texas, to be a judge at a Chili cook-off, because no one else wanted to do it. Also the original person called in sick at the last moment, and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to the beer wagon when the call came. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy, and besides, they told me that I could have free beer during the tasting. So I accepted.

Here are the scorecards from the event:


JUDGE ONE: A little too heavy on tomato. Amusing kick.

JUDGE TWO: Nice, smooth tomato flavour. Very mild.

FRANK: Holy Shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway with this stuff. I needed two beers to put the flames out. Hope that's the worst one. Those Texans are crazy.


JUDGE ONE: Smokey, with a hint of pork. Slight Jalapeno tang.

JUDGE TWO: Exciting BBQ flavour. Needs more peppers to be taken seriously.

FRANK: Keep this out of reach of children! I'm not sure what I am supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave of two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich manoeuvre. They had to walkie-talkie in three extra beers when they saw the look on my face.


JUDGE ONE: Excellent firehouse chili! Great kick. Needs more beans.

JUDGE TWO: A beanless chili. A bit salty. Good use of red peppers.

FRANK: Call the EPA, I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Barmaid pounded me on the back; now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting shit-faced.


JUDGE ONE: Black Bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

JUDGE TWO: Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods. Not much of a chili.

FRANK: I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills; that 300 lb bitch is starting to look HOT, just like this nuclear-waste I'm eating.


JUDGE ONE: Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

JUDGE TWO: Chili using shredded beef; could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

FRANK: My ears are ringing, and I can no linger focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly from a pitcher onto it. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Freakin' Rednecks! ! !


JUDGE ONE: Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spice and peppers.

JUDGE TWO: The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions and garlic.

FRANK: My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulphuric flames. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that slut Sally. I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone!


JUDGE ONE: A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

JUDGE TWO: Ho Hum. Tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should note that I am worried about Judge # 3.

FRANK: You could puta #)$^@#*&! Grenade in my mouth, pull the #)$^@#*&! pin, and I wouldn't feel a d@&$ thing. I've lost the sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my X*$(@#^&$ mouth. My pants are full of lava-like shit, to match my X*$(@#^&$ shirt. At least the during the autopsy they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing, it's too painful. I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the four inch hole in my stomach.


JUDGE ONE: A perfect ending. This is a nice blend chili, safe for all; not too bold, but spicy enough to declare its existence.

JUDGE TWO: This final entry is a good balanced chili, neither mild now hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge # 3 passed out, fell and pulled the chili pot on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor Yank.

FRANK: - - - - - Mama?- - - (Editor's Note: Judge # 3 was unable to report).




A man in Melbourne walked into the produce section of his local supermarket and asked to buy half a head of cabbage. The boy working in that department told him that they only sold whole heads of cabbage. The man was insistent that the boy ask the manager about the matter... 

Walking into the back room, the boy said to the manager, "Some old bastard outside wants to buy half a head of cabbage." 

As he finished his sentence, he turned around to find that the man had followed and was standing right behind him, so the boy quickly added, "...and this gentleman kindly offered to buy the other half." 

The manager approved the deal and the man went on his way. 

Later, the manager said to the boy, "I was impressed with the way you got yourself out of that situation earlier, we like people who can think on their feet here, where are you from son?" 

"New Zealand, sir." the boy replied. 

"Why did you leave New Zealand?" the manager asked. 

The boy said, "Sir, there's nothing but prostitutes and rugby players there." 

"Is that right?" replied the manager. "My wife is from New Zealand!" 

"Really?" replied the boy. "Who did she play for?"


An old lady wakes up one morning to find that there's a gorilla in the tree in her back garden. She looks in the yellow pages and sure enough, there's an ad for "Gorilla Removers." She calls the number and the gorilla remover says he'll be over in 30 minutes. 

The gorilla remover arrives with his truck which contains a ladder, a pitchfork, a shotgun, a set of manacles, a winch and suspended metal cage, and a large snarling dog with big teeth, wearing a muzzle. 

He sets up his equipment in the back yard, removes the muzzle from the dog and says to the old lady "I'm going to climb the tree using this ladder, then I work my way along the branch and give the gorilla a poke with the pitchfork. This will force the gorilla to jump down, whereupon this specially trained dog runs up and grabs him by the testicles, holding him immobile until I get down. I then put the manacles on him, drop the cage over him and take him to the zoo. They give me a donation and it doesn’t cost you anything.” 

“That would be lovely,” she says. 

“All you have to do is hold the shotgun,” he says. 

“What do I do with the shotgun?” she asks. 

“Lady,” he responds, “If I fall off the ladder, shoot the fucking dog!”



There was a young man named McNamiter
With a tool of prodigious diameter.
But it wasn't the size
Gave the girls a surprise,
But his rhythm---iambic pentameter.






Sometimes I experience both amnesia and dejΓ  vu at the same time, and I'm like: "Yep, I've forgotten this before ".

Yoda asks Luke “why is 5 afraid of 7?”
“Because 6, 7, 8.”

"What do we want?!?"
"Hearing aids!"
"When do we want them?!"
"Hearing aids!"

How do you measure the heaviness of a red hot chili pepper?
Give it a weigh, give it a weigh, give it a weigh now.


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