A Yorkshireman: "Ayup, lad, I need to talk to thee about me cat." Vet: "Is it a tom?" Yorkshireman: "Nay, I've browt it with us." ................................................................................... A Yorkshireman's dog dies and as it was a favourite pet he decides to have a gold statue made by a jeweller to remember the dog by. Yorkshireman: "Can tha mek us a gold statue of yon dog?" Jeweller: "Do you want it 18 carat?" Yorkshireman: "No I want it chewin' a bone yer daft bug ger!" ................................................................................................ A Yorkshireman's wife dies and the widower decides that her headstone should have the words "She were thine" engraved on it. He calls the stone mason, who assures him that the headstone will be ready a few days after the funeral. True to his word the stone mason calls the widower to say that the headstone is ready and would he like to come and have a look. When the widower gets there he takes one look at the stone to see that it's been engraved "She were thin". He explodes: "'ells bells man, you've left the blood y "e" out, you've left the blood y "e" out!" The stone mason apologises profusely and assures the poor widower that it will be rectified the following morning. Next day comes and the widower returns to the stone mason: "There you go sir, I've put the "e" on the stone for you". The widower looks at the stone and then reads out aloud: "E, she were thin". ................................................................................ Bloke from Chemist replies "Aye, Magnum or Cornetto?" . --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
5 comments:
Excellent!
A southern couple, after a hard working life in the city decide, on cosidering their bonuses and remunerations, to retire to the country. At the advanced ages of thirty four and thirty seven, they buy a picturesque farmhouse in a Yorkshire village, and immediately set to work to become villagers, they join everything, the cricket club, the women's institute, the sheep-fair committee, the village "britain-in-bloom" group, the amateur dramatics, the pub darts team, the church fete, everything, heart and soul, they try to blend in, be accepted, yet they're constantly referred to as 'off-comed'uns'.
Thirty years go by, our couple, at the close of the village show, are congratulated on their works, by an old farmer: "Nobbut a bad effort", he says, "for southern folk".
"Southern folk?" they blurt, desperately, "What does it take for us to get accepted, when will we truly belong here?"
A long pause as the old feller ponders... Finally, he replies. "When tha's got eight sets o' greeat grand-peearents in yon churchyard."
S, that sounds likely!
Fabulous! :D
MV, I knew you would understand it.....
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