There were two blokes who both suffered from being mute, but had perfect hearing. As they couldn’t speak to each other, they used sign language. They became the best of friends, and met each other on a very regular basis. This went on for many years, until one of them apparently disappeared. His mate missed him terribly, and spent his time hunting high and low for his friend. After a month or so, he unexpectedly bumped into him in the High Street. “How the hell are you? I haven’t seen you in ages” he said in rather loud sign language. His friend spoke, “I’m quite well, thank you”. “Sh#t!” his friend signed, “You spoke! How come?” “That’s why you haven’t seen me for a while. I’ve been away at a specialist’s and, for the first time in my life, I’ve got a voice”. “Bloody hell,” signed his friend, somewhat furiously, “can he do the same for me?” “No problem.” He dug into his inside jacket pocket, pulled out a card and gave it to his friend. “Give him a call, you’ve nothing to lose.” An appointment with the specialist was duly made, and a few days later, the mute bloke turned up for his first course of treatment. “O.K.” said the specialist, “we’ll do this one step at a time. Drop your trousers and bend over my desk”. The patient gave a long, horrified look at the doctor. “It’s part of the treatment. I’m not queer!” The patient duly dropped his keks, but still gave the doctor a quizzical look. As he bent over the desk, the doctor grabbed an ornamental poker from the mock fireplace, and forcibly inserted it in the patient’s rectum. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” screamed the patient. “Very good,” commented the doctor, “tomorrow, we’ll continue with B.”
The teacher stood facing the class. “Today,” she said, “We’re going to try and improve your word power. I’m going to give you a word, and I want you to give me another word that means much the same thing. Who can give me another word for ‘drifting’?” Margaret slowly and hesitantly put her hand up. “Yes, Margaret?” asked the teacher. “’Floating’, Miss?” answered Margaret. “Yes, that’s good. Who can give me another word for ‘coracle’?” Trevor immediately put his hand up. “’Boat’, Miss,” he said. “Yes, that’s close enough. I can see that you’re good at this, so we’ll try a harder word. Who can give me another word for ‘indifferent’?” This stumped everyone, except for Johnny on the back row, who put his hand up and waved it around. “’Lovely’, Miss,” he answered. “No, Johnny, you’re wrong, but tell me, what makes you think it means ‘lovely’?” “Well,” said Johnny, “in the middle of last night, I had to get up and go to the toilet. As I walked past Mummy’s and Daddy’s bedroom, I heard Mummy say ‘Oooooooh, that’s lovely’, and Daddy said, ‘Yes, it’s in different.’”
The senior Medical Officer at an army barracks decided to check the patients under his care. He strode off to his ward, which only had three patients. He approached the first patient, a sergeant. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “Syphilis, sir,” replied the sergeant. “Do you know what your treatment is?” “Yes, sir. I take the pills three times a day and scrub the infected parts with a brush.” “Good,” commented the M.O. and moves onto the next bed, occupied by a corporal. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “Gonorrhoea, sir,” answered the corporal. “Do you know what your treatment is?” “Yes, sir. I take the pills three times a day and scrub the infected parts with a brush.” “Good,” commented the M.O. and moves onto the next bed, this time occupied by a lowly private. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “Ulcers on the tongue, sir,” said the private. “Do you know what your treatment is?” “Yes sir. It’s the same as the other two, but I try and get the brush first......”
