I got the above from my American drivers’ site and it caused quite a stir there. Firstly from people who were not from Memphis and couldn’t resist putting the boot in in agreement, but then from a bloke who lived there and got quite irate, which in turn got others abusing him for that.
At least here we can have a gentle smile at least. 
The equivalent here might be Liverpool or Glasgow, but we all know it’s in fun and not serious.
You do realise that I am a former tramping lorry driver don’t you? And that you have just mentioned the 2 cities that older drivers avoided like the plague. 
From the ’ look after yer motor mister?’ from a snotty nosed kid in Liverpool which being translated meant, ‘if yer don’t give me half a crown much of it or your load will be missing in the morning’, to when parked up on waste ground in Glasgow opposite the company’s ‘office’ which doubled as a rest for weary drivers before heading back south, but stipulated at least one staying awake to look for little feet under the whisky loaded trailers, which would belong to those on the far side who would be ripping open the sheets (tarpaulins) to nick the bottles from out of the boxes. 
BTW, the terms ‘tramping’ or ‘roaming’ referred to some drivers who were loaded out from base to then find their own loads around the country. A dream job for someone like me who was paid to indulge in extreme wanderlust. 
I was in a taxi and the driver asked if he could play music.
“Sure”, I said.
“Kiss?”, he asked.
I said, “Lets start with the music and see where the mood takes us.”
Joke at the end
They don’t though. Of imported whiskeys and whiskies, Irish only represents a single figure percentage. Imports from the UK and to lesser extent from Canada far outstrip Irish whiskeys. No reflection on the quality. The Irish whiskey industry is just to small too compete. So small in fact that if every drop was exported to the US they would only just take Canada’s second place and still far behind sales of Scotch and other British whiskies.
Anyway back to the humour. I bought two bottles of whisky and so afraid was I that I’d break them on the way home I decided to drink them before I set off. What a fantastic decision. I fell over six times.
I think you missed the joke, they always spell it with an ‘e’. I have no idea what they prefer.
I did. Sorry.
On my way out to the pub my wife exclaimed “Again?”
“Again what?”, says I.
“Off to the pub again to enjoy yourself while I’m stuck in here.”
“You’re not stuck”, I answered “Put you’re coat on and come with me.”
She doesn’t normally drink so when I asked her what she wanted to drink she said she’d have the same as me.
Two whiskies it was then.
When she tasted hers she spat it out and howled “Thats vile”
I replied, “Aye and you think I’m out here enjoying myself?”
Note left on the fridge:
My Dear Wife,
You will surely understand that I have certain needs that you, being 54 years old, can no longer satisfy. I am very happy with you and I value you as a good wife.
Therefore, after reading this letter, I hope that you will not wrongly interpret the fact that I will be spending the evening with my 18 year old secretary at the Comfort Inn Hotel. Please don’t be upset----I shall be home before midnight.
When the man came home late that night, he found the following letter on the dining room table:
My Dear Husband,
I received your letter and thank you for your honesty about my being 54 years old. I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that you are also 54 years old.
As you know, I am a math teacher at our local college. I would like to inform you that while you read this, I will be at the Hotel Fiesta with Michael, one of my students, who is also the assistant tennis coach. He is young, virile, and like your secretary, is 18 years old.
As a successful businessman who has an excellent knowledge of math, you will understand that we are in the same situation, although with one small difference - 18 goes into 54 a lot more times than 54 goes into 18.
Therefore, I will not be home until sometime tomorrow
A lawyer boarded an airplane in New Orleans with a box of frozen crabs and asked a blonde flight attendant to take care of them for him. She took the box and promised to put it in the crew’s refrigerator. He advised her that he was holding her personally responsible for them staying frozen, mentioning in a very snotty manner that he was a lawyer, and proceeded to rant at her about what would happen if she let them thaw out. Needless to say, she was annoyed by his attitude and behavior.
Shortly before landing in New York, she used the intercom to announce to the entire cabin, “Would the gentleman who gave me the crabs in New Orleans, please raise your hand?”
Not one hand went up … so she took them home and ate them.
Two lessons here:
Lawyers aren’t as smart as they think they are.
Blondes aren’t as dumb as most folks think
“I’m looking to find a nice woman who can solve just 1/4th of my problems.
All I need to do is find FOUR of them, and everything in my life will be solved”.
You know Alf Garnett was written as a caricature for the purposes of satire, right?
I thought that was probably the point ?
I couldn’t tell, so was checking.
True. But Johnny Speight was seriously hacked off when people started going around saying “…that Alf Garnett’s got the right idea…”
