Forum topic

Success is..

At age 4 .....  success is .... not peeing in your pants.
At age 12 .... success is .... having friends.
At age 17 .... success is .... having a driving licence.
At age 20 .... success is .... having sex.
At age 35 .... success is .... having money.
At age 50 .... success is .... having money.
At age 60 .... success is .... having sex.
At age 70 .... success is .... having a driving licence.
At age 75 .... success is .... having friends.
At age 80 .... success is .... not peeing in your pants

Very funny Ronnie Barker video about rhyming slang....

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ij5mw_eqKuc

A woman decides to have a face lift for her 50th birthday.
She spends $15,000 and looks sensational.

On her way home, she stops at to buy a newspaper.
Before leaving, she says to the assistant,
‘I hope you don’t mind my asking, but how old do you think I am?”.
‘About 32,’ is the reply.’
‘No! I’m exactly 50,’ the woman says happily.

A little while later she goes into McDonald’s and asks the counter girl the very same question.
The girl replies,
‘I’d say about 29.
’No, I’m 50.’ the woman replies with a big smile.

Now she’s feeling really good about herself.
She stops at another shop on her way home.
She goes up to the counter and asks the assistant the same burning question.
The assistant responds,
‘Oh, I’d say 30.’
Again, she proudly responds,
‘I’m 50 but thank you!’

While waiting for the bus to go home, she asks an old man waiting next to her the same question.
He replies,
‘Madam, I’m 78 and my eyesight is going. Although, when I was young there was a sure way to tell how old a woman was.
It sounds very forward, but it requires you to let me put my hands under your bra Then, I can tell you EXACTLY how old you are.’

They wait in silence on the empty street until her curiosity gets the better of her. She finally blurts out,
‘Oh ok, go on then'

He slips both of his hands under her blouse and begins to feel around very slowly and carefully. He bounces and weighs each breast and he pushes her breasts together and rubs them against each other.

After a couple of minutes of this, she says,
'Okay, okay . . How old am I?’
He completes one last squeeze of her breasts, removes his hands, and says,
‘Madam, you are 50.’

Stunned and amazed, the woman says,
‘That was incredible, how could you tell?’

‘I was behind you at McDonalds’.

A man staggers into an emergency room with a concussion, multiple bruises, two black eyes and a five iron wrapped tightly around his throat.

Naturally, the doctor asks him what happened.

“Well, it was like this”, said the man. “I was having a quiet round of golf with my wife, when at a difficult hole, we both sliced our ball into a pasture of cows. We went to look for them, and while I was looking around I noticed one of the cows had something white at its rear end.”

“I walked over and lifted up the tail, and sure enough, there was a golf ball with my wife’s monogram on it – stuck right in the middle of the cow’s backside. That’s when I made my big mistake.”

“What did you do?” asks the doctor.

“Well, I lifted the cow’s tail and yelled to my wife, ‘Hey, this looks like yours!’ and I don’t remember much after that.”

THE HORTH WHITHPERER

A bloke calls his mate, a horse breeder, and says he's sending a friend over to look at a horse.

His mate asks, 'How will I recognize him?'

'That's easy; he's a dwarf with a speech impediment..'

So, the dwarf shows up, and the breeder asks him if he's looking for a male or female horse.

'A female horth.'

So he shows him a prized filly.

'Nith lookin horth. Can I thee her eyeth?'

So the breeder picks up the dwarf and he gives the horse's eyes the once over.

'Nith eyeth, can I thee her earzth?'

So he picks the little fella up again, and shows him the horse's ears.

'Nith earzth, can I thee her mouf?'

The breeder is getting pretty ticked off by this point, but he picks him up again and shows him the horse's mouth.

'Nice mouf, can I see her twat?'

Totally mad at this point, the breeder grabs him under his arms and rams the dwarf's head up the horse's fanny, pulls him out and slams him on the ground.

The midget gets up, sputtering and coughing.

'Perhapth I should rephrase that. Can I thee her wun awound a widdlebit?

On the election trail, Scott Morrison visits an inner city high school and sits in on an English lesson where they are discussing words and their meanings.

He is invited to lead the class for a discussion about the word "tragedy" so he asks the class of an example of a tragedy.

One boy stands up and says "If my best friend was playing in the street and was run over by a car, that would be a tragedy".

Scomo says "Well no, that would be an accident."

A girl stands up and says "If a school bus carrying 50 children drove off a cliff, killing everyone on board, that would be a tragedy".

The PM says "That would indeed be very sad but it's what we'd call a great loss".

The class goes quiet and Morrison prompts them, saying "Can anyone here give me an example of a tragedy."

A boy at the back stands up and says "If the Prime Minister's plane, carrying you, Peter Dutton and Barnaby Joyce, was hit by a missile and blown to smithereens, that would be a tragedy".

Morrison is clearly pleased with this response and, making sure the TV cameras are running, says "That's right and can you tell me why that would be a tragedy?"

The boy replies "Well, it clearly wouldn't be an accident and it certainly would be no great loss!!!"
 

A young Scottish lad and lass were sitting on a low stone wall, holding hands, gazing out over the loch. For several minutes they sat silently. Then finally the girl looked at the boy and said, "A penny for your thoughts, Angus."
"Well, uh, I was thinkin'... perhaps it's aboot time for a wee kiss." The girl blushed, then leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Then he blushed.

The two turned once again to gaze out over the loch. Minutes passed and the girl spoke again. "Another penny for your thoughts, Angus."
"Well, uh, I was thinkin' perhaps it's aboot time for a wee cuddle." The girl blushed, then leaned over and cuddled him for a few seconds. Then he blushed.

And the two turned once again to gaze out over the loch. After a while, she again said, "Another penny for your thoughts, Angus." "Well, uh, I was thinkin' perhaps it's aboot time you let me put my hand on your leg." The girl blushed, then took his hand and put it on her knee. Then he blushed.

The two turned once again to gaze out over the loch before the girl spoke again. "Another penny for your thoughts, Angus." The young man glanced down with a furled brow. "Well, noo," he said, "my thoughts are a wee bit more serious this time." "Really?" said the lass in a whisper, filled with anticipation. "Aye," said the lad, nodding. The girl looked away in shyness, began to blush, and bit her lip in anticipation of the ultimate request.

Then he said, "Dae ye nae think it's aboot time ye paid me the first three pennies?"

Australia - We are one

We are the people of a free nation of blokes, sheilas and the occasional wanker. We come from many lands (although a few too many of us come from New Zealand), and although we live in the best country in the world, we reserve the right to bitch and moan about it whenever we bloody like. We are One Nation but divided into many States.

First, there's Victoria, named after a queen who didn't believe in lesbians. Victoria is the realm of cafe latte, grand final day, and big horse races. Its capital is Melbourne, whose chief marketing pitch is that "it's liveable". At least that's what we want them to think. The rest of us know it is too bloody cold and wet.

Next, there's NSW, the realm of pastel shorts, macchiato with sugar, thin books read quickly and millions of dancing queens. Its capital Sydney has more queens than any other city in the world and is proud of it. Its mascots are Bondi lifesavers that pull their Speedos up their cracks to keep the left and right sides of their brains separate.

Down south we have Tasmania, a State based on the notion that the family that bonks together stays together. In Tassie, everyone gets an extra chromosome at conception. Maps of the State bring smiles to the sternest faces. It holds the world record for a single mass shooting, which the Yanks can't seem to beat no matter how often they try

South Australia is the province of half-decent reds, a festival of foreigners and bizarre axe murders. SA is the state of innovation. Where else can you so effectively reuse country bank vaults and barrels as in Snowtown, just out of Adelaide (also named after a queen). They had the Grand Prix, but lost it when the views of Adelaide sent the Formula One drivers to sleep at the wheel.

Western Australia is too far from anywhere to be relevant. It's main claim to fame is that it doesn't have daylight saving because if it did, all the men would get erections on the bus on the way to work. WA was the last state to stop importing convicts and many of them still work there in the government.

The Northern Territory is the red heart of our land. Outback plains, sheep stations the size of Europe, kangaroos, Jackaroos, emus, Uluru, and dusty kids with big smiles. It also has the highest beer consumption of anywhere on the planet and its creek beds have the highest aluminium content of anywhere too. Although the Territory is the centrepiece of our national culture, few of us live there and the rest prefer to flyover it on our way to Bali.

And there's Queensland. While any mention of God seems silly in a document defining a nation of half arsed sceptics, it is worth noting that God probably made Queensland, as its beautiful one day and perfect the next. Why he filled it with dickheads remains a mystery.

Oh yes and there's Canberra. The less said the better.

We, the citizens of Oz, are united by Highways, whose treacherous twists and turns kill more of us each year than murderers. We are united in our lust for international recognition, so desperate for praise we leap in joy when a rag tag gaggle of corrupt IOC officials tells us Sydney is better than Beijing. We are united by a democracy so flawed that a political party albeit a redneck gun toting one, can get a million votes and still not win one seat in Federal Parliament. Not that we're whingeing, we leave that to our Pommy mates.

We want to make "no worries mate" our national phrase, "she'll be right mate" our national attitude and "Waltzing Matilda" our national anthem (so what if it's about a sheep-stealing crim who commits suicide). We love sport so much our newsreaders can read the death toll from a sailing race and still tell us who's winning.

And we're the best in the world at all the sports that count, like cricket, netball, rugby league and union, AFL, roo shooting, two up and horse racing. We also have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies, and the worst dressed Olympians in the known universe. Only in Australia can a pizza delivery get to your house faster than an ambulance. Only in Australia do we have bank doors wide open, no security guards or cameras, but chain the pens to the desk.

Stand proud Aussies - we shoot, we root, we vote. We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime. Even though we might seem a racist, closed minded, sports obsessed little people, at least we feel better for it.

I am, you are, we are Australian!

P.S We also shoot and eat the two animals that are on our National Crest!!!! No other country has this distinction!