Let's Try Again

Okay, so it has come to my attention that my last joke wasn't received as well as it should've been. Maybe it was my fault, perhaps I made it a bit too subtle for you. But don't worry, I don't blame you, I know that Italian food and phonetics are a pretty heady mix. Some say it's too strong, that I'm mad for being so avant-garde, but I can't help it. I can't help how the muses choose to inspire me can I? Anyway, I'm going to try this again, but I've tweaked it to make a little bit more understandable. Here we go, Italian food and phonetics joke mk. II...

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A really beautiful blonde in a red dress is sat alone at a table. She is clearly waiting for a date as she keeps checking her watch, looking at the door every time someone comes in etc etc. While she waits she nibbles on some of the complimentary bread, dipping into olive oil and/or marinara sauce. No, just marinara sauce.

 

 

A sharply-dressed man, probably wearing Louis Vuitton or Topman or something, notices she's bored and alone so walks over from the bar.

 

Man: I couldn't help noticing you're over here all alone.

 

Woman: Yes I'm afraid my fat date has stood me up. My, you are a very handsome and good-looking person.

 

Man: Right back focaccia (bread).

 

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I don't want to offend anyone, but you struggled with the last joke so I'll explain it. Right, she's eating focaccia bread (the extra layer here comes with the marinara sauce. I was going to say olive oil, but obviously marinara sauce has a richer comic heritage). 'Focaccia' sounds quite like 'atcha' ('at you' said more vernacularly), so the little back and forth between the two, er, people is funny. Funny 'cause it sounds like something... or something. Something else.

 

Like I say, I can't help it. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

I've Outdone Myself... Again

I was going to start this post by saying "I don't mean to toot my own horn but..." and then I thought, no, it's right to toot my horn. Anyone who knows me understands I'm humble enough anyway, but I can't deny a massive talent if it's this obvious can I? Quite frankly, I'm a very funny guy. You all know it. I can't help it, it's just this gift I have. Well anyway, I've got a new joke for you folks (don't mention it, please, I'm just doing it out of the goodness of my heart, no need to thank me).

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Imagine the scene: it is 1970 and Sally's in the International Hotel, Las Vegas, and Elvis is on stage. He's wearing a sexy white catsuit and prowling the stage (the clothing isn't important to the joke to be fair). Sally had just had a chicken dinner (that bit's important), it was delicious. Elvis sings 'Patch It Up' and then goes offstage.

A little later, who arrives at Sally's table but The King himself:

Elvis: So, baby, whaddidyou thinka mah show?

Sally: It was good, but why were you singing about cacciatore?

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I'll just wait for the laughter to die down... Are you done? Ooh no, there's another little pocket starting up... You done? Yep.

Right, obviously it was hilarious, and you don't need me to explain the joke, but obviously because I'm such an artist I find it a valuable part of my process to explore the genius of it all. Obviously the crux of the humour lies in the phonetic similarity of 'patch it up' and 'cacciatore'. It seems simple, but obviously I've made it very effective. Additional layers have been added with the tongue-in-cheek Elvis dialogue and, as you'd expect with one of my witty smorgasbords, the brilliant image presented.

Anyway, the exertion I have gone through to produce this has left me quite tired, so I'm going to leave it there. Try not to praise me too much in the comments, remember that being this funny is just natural for me and, in a sense, it's unfair to congratulate me for it.

Peace out!

The Best

I was on my way out of Morrisons today, and by the exit there was a guy trying to sell double glazed, self cleaning windows. You know the type.

Fenetre Vendor: 'Scuse me sir, would you be interested in our new range of self-cleaning windows?

Me: No, sorry, I'm not in control of my windows.

Fenetre Vendor: Oh you mean to say, more accurately, that you are renting a property and decisions of this nature pertaining to the place's upkeep fall under the jurisdiction of the landlord or landlady?

Me: No, I mean my windows are wild. They are literally out of control. Good day to you...