Humour Quotes - Page 8

Private Benjamin lives next door but one to Bob Cryer from The Bill. I once saw him crouching down behind a sycamore tree and using his nose as an Allen Key to release a starving rat.

St. John Morris

Tobak Davenport, who is a cross between some Sugar Puffs and Lynn Faulds-Wood, was squatting there before being removed by the local constabulary after he went round to complain about Luther Blisset’s pet turkey fouling the communal herb garden.

St. John Morris

You little prick. It's a whelk...it's a...it's a...dead whelk!

St. John Morris

A huge meringue with polio who drives everywhere in a beautifully restored Hillman Imp.

St. John Morris

Next door but one is Quinlan Broddle, a Viceroy with a fear of gardens. So much so that he sold his garden to Virgin Atlantic and his erstwhile front lawn is now a runway where miniature helicopters and packets of crisps undertake sorties to 1940’s Dresden where they have made several dozen unsuccessful attempts to rescue the Quaker Oats man, who is being held captive by the SS on the basis that his hair looks like ice cream.

St. John Morris

On the other side of St John’s house is a fake egg timer who can’t maintain an erection. He shares the property with a glossy beef burger called Tom, who has been painted by a seven year old magistrate in order to be entered for this year’s Miss East Lancashire competition. Next door to them is a Dundee cake with a lisp.

St. John Morris

...his knees were held together by the skin-tight trousers, which consequently narrowed the aperture through which great quantities of malodorous, rancid dreck were shortly to emerge with great force. St John knew that this was likely to prove troublesome. Although his mid-morning bab was usually undertaken in a more perfunctory manner, he would still have been mindful enough to ensure that his trousers were well below the knee before he commenced the disagreeable act, but in his current predicament, he was in no state to dally.

St. John Morris

St John had been sitting in the back garden twizzling a pencil, on the end of which a russet deposit was impaled, which had been left on the lawn by Marmaduke, next door’s ginger cat. His father had wandered in to the garden and seen St John mesmerised by the twirling mahogany baton. “What are you doing son?” he asked.“Toasting a witch”, St John replied.

St. John Morris

The Macedonian Endeavour Channel was screening live coverage of the world series of the Who’s Got the Stupidest Name (WGSN) competition. First prize had already gone to Brian Burdock, a French Algerian with a penchant for Longchamp.

St. John Morris

What have you got in there you little bastard?

St. John Morris

Run. Flee. Fuck off. Vanish from my presence and take the foul stench of your sordid secret with you.

St. John Morris

Next door to the Bensons is Emmet Frag, a retired pacemaker who is credited with inventing the notion of happiness. He’s currently working on a method for categorising ducks based on their singing voice. He’s also the owner of the world’s largest collection of tenor geese.

St. John Morris

St John had always been a fan of the RS Turbo, mainly due to the colour coded rear spoiler and air vents in the bonnet, which distinguished it from the more common and less powerful XR3i.

St. John Morris

He had also spent a day and a half without sleep trying to start an online petition to bring back the advert for Nationwide Building Society which said Dunroamin, twice, but half the through the second day of the campaign he had realised that it was an anachronism and the internet was about fourteen years away from mass consumption, so he stopped and went to sleep.

St. John Morris

Oh yeah, well I suddenly realises that she’d only been with my boyfriend at the Co-op Christmas do when I were eighteen. So I grabs her head and I stuck it through a display of them Muller’s rices and I told her. That’s for shagging Kevin Cooper you stupid fucking cunt.

St. John Morris

Had the facial plumage been of a paler hue it would have looked like a pile of horse crap on a winter’s day.

St. John Morris

This particular event had been somewhat more raucous than usual as Derek Jameson had just lost an arm wrestle with Ann Diamond. The match was the second semi-final of the morning after Belinda Carlisle had been pipped at the post by Rusty Lee. Carlisle had caused some consternation after, upset at losing and forfeiting the chance to compete for the first prize of a quarter of midget gems, she had spat port in Lee’s handbag. Carlisle had been asked to leave and, after a brief tussle, had been ejected from the building whilst screaming and spitting in Simon Parkin’s face.

St. John Morris

Eunice had deposited St John upon the balcony of the first-floor apartment of former Liberal MP, The Rt. Hon. Leonard Cossins, the disgraced Lord Mayor of Mitchell-Baines who had been removed from office having been caught administering counterfeit buttercup syrup to the local yeomanry whilst on a hunting trip to Stoke-Poges.

St. John Morris

Beetroot Cossins had moved to Kuala Lumpur where she had died of lethargy and pie.

St. John Morris

Her protestations were drowned out by the sound of Gordon Honeycomb barfing up aftershock into the kitchenette sink.

St. John Morris

He quite liked dentists’ waiting rooms. Waiting for dentists was good. Waiting for them was so much better than having them stick metal spikes in your mouth.

Jackson Radcliffe

Tears streamed down my face. I was so happy I wanted to shout it from the rooftop. But at the same time I knew that that afternoon's downpour would have made the slate tiles so slippery that achieving any kind of purchase would have been impossible.

Mike’s brain was hardwired directly into his genitals and most higher functions appeared to have switched themselves off. In other words, he was just like most men.

Jackson Radcliffe

Every child needs a father. Even if he turns out to be Darth Vader.

Jackson Radcliffe

When life throws shit at you, grow great, big, fuck off roses.

Displacement of 'What goes around, comes around' is Zero.

Secrets are dangerous.” Gottfried Baumauer.

Carla H. Krueger

It’s like George always says: being in a rock ʼn’ roll band is very sexy, even when you’re only the keyboard player and your idea of the perfect Saturday night actually amounts to a bubble bath, a Richard Curtis boxset and a seafood linguine.

Christopher Russell

Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his shoes. That way, you will be a mile away from him, and you will have his shoes.

Anonymous

When you keep a secret from your parents, you're not trying to protect yourself. It's because you're trying to protect them.

Who decided it's a phobia in the first place? What if I just don't want to get married ever. Just like I don't want to live in Jharkhand ever. Somehow I can say that as loud as I want and as many times as I want, yet nobody will ask me to see the shrink about my Jharkhand phobia. Why?

And finally, I get to meet the Breakup Coach" Ryan says before we can be introduced. "I'm a big fan of your work" he says with mock admiration as I turn around. I decide I like his voice. It's not a deep Charlton Heston-like voice, but it has just the right amount of husky in it.

I blame Chennai. Pointless neighbourhood gossip travels faster than tsunami alerts around here. I know that aunties are a universal problem but this city is particularly aunty dominated. And by that, I mean, even many of our twenty-somethings act like aunties. Forgive the rant. Maybe I've lived here too long (and have therefore outgrown it) but I sincerely believe that Chennai has no business being called a metro. I mean, if a thirty-year-old single woman living alone while her parents are in the same city, is still such hot news, then maybe we need to graciously give up our metro status to someone more deserving. And since we have no qualms about lagging so far behind the times, maybe we should call ourselves retro.

Facebook should start publishing breakup stories. 'So and so and so and so are no longer in a relationship.' With a tombstone next to it.

He said he wouldn’t stay, as he didn’t care much for the smell of the paint, and fell over the scraper as he went out. Must get the scraper removed, or else I shall get into a scrape. I don’t often make jokes.

George Grossmith

Is your name even David?' I asked as I yanked my panties back on.'Is yours Melanie?' he inquired, buttoning his jeans.'I asked first,' I countered, wondering for the umpteenth time why being an idiot came so easily to me.

If you knew how many hidden depths I had your pretty eyes would pop right out of your winsome face. Not literally of course - that would be disgusting. I wouldn’t envy the man who had to clean up a pair of popped eyes, especially given the state of this deck. I’m not sure we even have any cleaning products that work for popped eyes, although I suppose a general viscera cleaner would do the trick.

So what we are right now is a pair of dickweeds in a hotel room in Sydney. My life is royally fucked up right now and from where I’m sitting, your life is even bloody worse.

Comedy is hard work. People expect you to be funny 24/7. So if you're not constantly cracking up your friends, it can hurt you professionally. They may not read your book or come to your show. 'She's a comedian? She's not that funny!' It's unfair 'cause when cardio surgeon friends say they cut chests open and hold hearts in their hands, everyone just takes their word for it.

Modern-Day Parenting is no joke. For starters, no one takes you seriously unless you have a fancy parenting style. Tiger Mom, Helicopter Mom, Organic Mom and on and on. I've decided to go with L-Board Mom. I may look like I don't know what I'm doing but you want to keep safe distance 'cause you know I can hurt you and get away with it.

I have a phonetic fetish. All I want is to find a man whose last name ends in 'Vrski' and marry him. Try saying VRSKI. Oh, don't be a tight-ass. SAY IT. Don't you love the purring sound it makes in your mouth? It's the kind of name I love waking up to every morning - 'Good morning, BlahBlahVrski', the kind I can brag about on Facebook - 'Judy Balan has now changed her name to Judy SomethingVrski' and the kind I can scream in a fit of passion - 'Ohhhhh Vrrrrssskkkkiiiii!

I love therapy. I don't get the taboo about seeking therapy at all. It's exactly like taking Buzzfeed quizzes. At the end of the day, we all want to know what cocktail we are. But it means so much more when it comes from a shrink. It's like 'Ooh, I really am Liquid Cocaine!

I’m making a list of when it’s acceptable for a pirate to cry. […] So far I’ve got: one - when holding a seagull covered in oil. Two - when singing a shanty that reminds him of orphans. Three - when confronted with the unremitting loneliness of the human condition. Four - chops. I’ve just written the word ‘chops’. Not really sure where I was going with that one. Any ideas?

You can't draw lines in the sand like that. Humour's a tsunami that doesn't care about your little lines.

Human Millipede 6 was the highest-grossing movie of the summer and returned Nicholas Cage to Oscar-winning status.

There's only one thing in life more dangerous than a bad idea, and that's a good one.

I am empowered but have no power to compel anyone to do anything

Kazeem Olalekan

Do not mislead Perez Anna or malign the people who have sheltered you for over twenty years. We are not - what is the word for eaters of one another?""Capitalists," said Anna.

Eleanor Arnason

We left dents on each other. Mine was in her heart, and hers was on my car.

J.A. ANUM

The nearest one came to a tumble dryer was if the laundry basket was dropped on the way to the washing-line and then the whole lot went tumbling down the drive.

Romance blossomed over a carrier bag full of mackerel. It wasn't exactly how I imagined it would happen; there were no sunsets, or butterflies, or birdsong, just some smelly dead fish and a slimy carrier bag.

I’m only saying what you won’t. He’s a hunk, admit it. A tall, dark, exotic hunk who wants to bed you, and you must be a fucking nun, because it’s been three weeks since you met him and you’re going to have to remove the cobwebs from your vagina with forceps soon, they’re growing into intelligent life form—

Mzatal gave a decisive nod. “I willmanage this. It cannot continue to interferewith his work. Too much is at stake.”I raised an eyebrow. “How do youintend to manage it?”“I will tell him the truth and outline theconsequences.”I was surprised Mzatal didn’t shrivelaway from the look I gave him. “Dude.Seriously? You expect him to stopcrushing on me because you forbid it?”Mzatal frowned, contemplative.“Perhaps not ideal given the entanglementof human emotions, though there is no timefor it to drag on,” he said, as if he actuallyknew what he was talking about. “If heknows you have no interest and sees howhis distractions have affected his work, hewill subside enough for now.”My withering look became glacial.“Boss, you’re completely awesome inmany ways, but you are so off-base withthis it’s not even funny.” I rolled my eyes.“I’ve already ramped ‘No Interest’ up toeleven on the dial and, at this point, hedoesn’t care if his work suffers.” I took abig gulp of coffee, then ran my fingersthrough my tangled hair. “Let me deal withit. Normally I’m not into directconfrontation with this sort of shit, butthere’s isn’t enough time for it to fizzle outon its own.”Mzatal regarded me with that damnedunreadable mask which he’d slipped on asI was talking. Great. Lords weren’t muchon being told they were wrong, but it hadto be said.

Can I speak to Sayvyer, please?”“You’re looking for the savior? At 1:15 a.m.?”“No. her name’s Sayvyer.”“There’s no savior here. Especially not at 1:15 a.m.

Zack Love

Maybe next time, don't bite the girl you fancy.

Radhika Sanghani

I jumped on Sinbad's bottle. Nothing happened. I didn't do it again. Sometimes when nothing happened it was really getting ready to happen

It's very important my parent's don't think I'm starting to fall in love with people, because then they might notice that I'm growing up, and I'm kind of trying to keep it a secret. I think it will cause an incident

From time to time I show up in myself just long enough for people to know they are not in the room alone.

Gary Lutz

He had decided that if he ever returned to his old job he would create a special level of hell, an enormous inescapable shop of attractive but useless and overpriced items that the damned would wander for eternity in the cold delusion that this was what they wanted. And then Nerys had taken him to IKEA and Clovenhoof realised the humans had once again beaten him to it.

Oh, man, she's gonna love you,' Max said. 'Physically. A lot.

A. Ashley Straker

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