Humor...I Need Humor...

Cyclefrance · 10-31-2005, 02:50 PM

As requested by one Miss Knickerbocker Glory:

Three construction workers, an Englishman, a Scotsman and an Irishman were working on a skyscraper and had reached the 57th floor. Each lunchtime a klaxon would sound and they'd stop work, park themselves on a steel girder and open up their lunchboxes, but it wasn't going too well...

'Oh, no!' exclaimed the Englishman, 'not again, ham and bloody tomato sandwiches. Every day it's ham and bloody tomato. Has she got no imagination.

'Och, nae!' followed the Scotsman. 'cheese and pickle - all the time it's cheese and pickle. Never a change, I've fair had enoof!'

'Bejasus,' from the Irishman, 'Jam! Sawberry jam. Again and again. Mary, mother of Jesus, why is it always strawberry jam.'

The three were so incensed that they struck a pact, that if the sandwiches were the same again the next day they would jump off the girder.

Next day came, and sure enough as the Englishman opened the wrapping around his sandwiches, he saw the same old ham and tomato. 'That's it! he shouted and jumped off the girder, falling 57 stories - splatt!

Then the Scotsman looked. He noticed the pickle straight away as it had leaked through the wrapping. And there was the cheese beneath it. 'I said I would, and I will!' and with that he, too careered down to hit the ground with a cruel, life-taking thud.

The Irishman gingerly unwrapped his sandwiches. 'It's jam' he said, quite quietly really and slid off the beam to meet the same fate as his two workmates.

Their wives were distraught. Tears abounded at the joint funeral that was held for the three men. The wives commiserated with each other:

'If only I'd known,' cried the Englishman's wife, 'he should have said, he used to love tomatoes, and ham was his favourite meat. I was so sure. I just don't understand...'

'And my Jimmy just loved pickle,' wailed the Scotsman's wife, 'and I thought he loved cheese - why didn't he say something - I don't understand either...'

'Neither do I understand,' bawled the Irishman's wife, 'my Patrick always used to make his own sandwiches....'

10-31-2005, 02:50 PM	#11
Cyclefrance Pump my ride! Join Date: Aug 2005 Location: Deep countryside of Surrey , England Posts: 1,890	As requested by one Miss Knickerbocker Glory: Three construction workers, an Englishman, a Scotsman and an Irishman were working on a skyscraper and had reached the 57th floor. Each lunchtime a klaxon would sound and they'd stop work, park themselves on a steel girder and open up their lunchboxes, but it wasn't going too well... 'Oh, no!' exclaimed the Englishman, 'not again, ham and bloody tomato sandwiches. Every day it's ham and bloody tomato. Has she got no imagination. 'Och, nae!' followed the Scotsman. 'cheese and pickle - all the time it's cheese and pickle. Never a change, I've fair had enoof!' 'Bejasus,' from the Irishman, 'Jam! Sawberry jam. Again and again. Mary, mother of Jesus, why is it always strawberry jam.' The three were so incensed that they struck a pact, that if the sandwiches were the same again the next day they would jump off the girder. Next day came, and sure enough as the Englishman opened the wrapping around his sandwiches, he saw the same old ham and tomato. 'That's it! he shouted and jumped off the girder, falling 57 stories - splatt! Then the Scotsman looked. He noticed the pickle straight away as it had leaked through the wrapping. And there was the cheese beneath it. 'I said I would, and I will!' and with that he, too careered down to hit the ground with a cruel, life-taking thud. The Irishman gingerly unwrapped his sandwiches. 'It's jam' he said, quite quietly really and slid off the beam to meet the same fate as his two workmates. Their wives were distraught. Tears abounded at the joint funeral that was held for the three men. The wives commiserated with each other: 'If only I'd known,' cried the Englishman's wife, 'he should have said, he used to love tomatoes, and ham was his favourite meat. I was so sure. I just don't understand...' 'And my Jimmy just loved pickle,' wailed the Scotsman's wife, 'and I thought he loved cheese - why didn't he say something - I don't understand either...' 'Neither do I understand,' bawled the Irishman's wife, 'my Patrick always used to make his own sandwiches....' __________________ Always sufficient hills - never sufficient gears Last edited by Cyclefrance; 10-31-2005 at 04:43 PM.

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