Mr. Humphries: [reading Mr. Kato's palm] Cross means crash. Mr. Kato: Please? Mr. Humphries: Cross means crash. Mr. Kato: Please? Mr. Humphries: Closs mean clash! Mr. Kato: Oh! [pause] Mr. Kato: Me no need clash; me got cledit card!
(In 1972, racism was yet to be invented)
Mrs. Slocombe: [removes her gas mask] What about this fog! My pussy's been gasping all night
Ah, I see. When Mrs Slocombe was talking about her pussy she was in actual fact referring to her cat and not her fanny. I just got that joke. These scriptwriters, eh?
This site wis set up by a group i bored thirtysumhings who grew up thegithir in Bo'ness, a quaint former whaling port and mining town oan the banks i the Michty River Forth windin thru the Glens i Scotland. The site is carefully worded in the Bo'ness dialect - please let us ken (know) if u canny understaun it afore breengin in. Be shair ti look it the comments under each poast - they are usually funnier than the stuff we pit up, and feel free ti poast yir ain!! We especially want ti hear fi aw they local petrochemical 'workers' who dae nuhin bit read this site n watch porn oan the nicht shift, in between turning a couple i valves n takin a fly heid doon.
2 comments:
Mr. Humphries: [reading Mr. Kato's palm] Cross means crash.
Mr. Kato: Please?
Mr. Humphries: Cross means crash.
Mr. Kato: Please?
Mr. Humphries: Closs mean clash!
Mr. Kato: Oh!
[pause]
Mr. Kato: Me no need clash; me got cledit card!
(In 1972, racism was yet to be invented)
Mrs. Slocombe: [removes her gas mask] What about this fog! My pussy's been gasping all night
Ah, I see. When Mrs Slocombe was talking about her pussy she was in actual fact referring to her cat and not her fanny. I just got that joke. These scriptwriters, eh?
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