These yarns won’t guarantee it, but they may help…

The Talking Dog

In the stress-free solitude of the Mallee, just outside Yaapeet, a bushwalker noticed a sign dangling on a broken gate: “Talking Dog for Sale.”

Curiosity prompted him to go in, where he met the owner and asked about the dog. The owner’s terse reply was to simply point his thumb towards the back yard, so he went around the house and saw an average black dog of dubious parentage lying in the shade of a wattle tree.

He bent down to it and whispered: “Can you talk?”

“Aww, mate,” replied the dog. “No worries!”

With growing confidence, the visitor asked: “How come?”

“I dunno,” the dog replied, “but when I was just a pup I discovered I had a gift for language. Right away I felt I should use this rare talent to help this wide brown land to be more secure, so I contacted ASIO.

“In no time they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies, suspects, world leaders and their staffs. And because no one suspected that a dog could be eavesdropping, I was one of their most valuable spies for six years running. But that’s a lot of dog years, and all that globe trotting was wearing me out. So I retired with lots of medals for exposing spies, terrorist cells, drug deals and white-collar corruption, and now I lead a quiet life with my wife and pups.”

The amazed visitor raced back to the house and asked how much the dog was worth.

“Ten dollars!” grunted the owner.

“Only ten dollars? Why would you put such a low price on such an amazing dog?”

“That ASIO story sounds good, but he’s never even been to Yaapeet. He’s more trouble than he’s worth because you can’t trust a word he says!”

~~

I heard this one on Parkinson a few weeks back….

A man was walking on his own down a Belfast laneway one night, when an arm reached out from a dark doorway, grabbed him by the throat and pulled him up onto a step.

He felt a gun pressed against his head as a voice asked him: “Are you Catholic or Protestant?”

He paused for a moment and said: “I’m a Jew!”

“Ahhhh,” purred the voice, “that would make me the luckiest Arab in the whole of Ireland!”

~~~

Dr Doolittle, where are you when we need you?

A sales rep was way out bush, racing to cover as much ground as he could, when his car suddenly carked it at the bottom of a hill. He pulled over, released the bonnet and got out to look at the engine, which totally mystified him.

As he scratched his head, he heard a voice behind him: “Your distributor cap has come off. Put it back on and you’ll be okay.”

He looked around, but there was only a horse standing beside the fence. “Go on” said the horse. “Put the distributor cap back on!”

Amazed, he did what the horse had told him, and quickly got back into the car, which purred into life.

He glanced over at the horse, which gave him a big wink, before he raced away up the hill.

Just over the hill was a small country pub, where he screeched to a halt and raced inside.

“Give me the stiffest drink you’ve got!” he gasped to the barman.

“Hey mate,” the barman said, ” you look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“Close to it,’ he replied. “You’ll never believe it, but my car broke down just the other side of the hill, and a horse told me how to fix it!”

“Was it a white horse or a black horse?” asked the barman

“It was a white horse, why?”

“Mate, this your lucky day, ’cause the black horse in that paddock doesn’t know nothin’ about cars!”

~~

Be blessed in spite of the above. If you can’t laugh at them, try laughing near them.