[pptp-server] Joke

[Andrew Wood]

This bloke with Tourette Syndrome walks into the poshest restaurant in
town. "Where's the pissing, motherfucking manager, you cock sucking
arse wipe?" he inquires of one of the waiters. The waiter is taken-aback
and replies, "Excuse me sir but could you please refrain from using that
sort of
language in here. I will get the manager as soon as I can".

The manager comes over and the bloke asks, "Are you the chicken-fucking
manager of this bastard place?" "Yes sir, I am," replies the manager,
"but I
would prefer it if you could refrain from speaking such profanities
in this, a private restaurant". "Fuck off" replies the bloke "and where's
the fucking piano?" "Pardon?" says the manager. "Fucking deaf as well,
are we? You snivelling little piece of shit, show me your cunting piano."
"Ah." replies the manager, "you've come about the pianist job" and
shows the bloke to the piano. "Can you play any blues?" "Of course I
fucking
can," and the bloke proceeds to play the most inspiring and beautiful
sounding honky-tonk blues that the manager has ever heard.

"That's superb. What's it called?"

"I tried to shag yer missus on the sofa but the springs kept hurting my
dick,"
  replies the bloke.

The manager is a bit disturbed and asks if the bloke knows
any jazz. The blokeproceeds, playing the most melancholy jazz solo the
manager has ever heard. "Magnificent." cries the manager "What's it
called?"

"Wanted a wank over the washing machine but I got my balls caught in the
soap drawer". The manager is a tad embarrassed and asks if he knows any
romantic ballads.

The bloke then plays the most heartbreaking melody the manager has ever
heard, "And what's this called?" asks the manager.

"As I fuck you under the stars with the moonlight shining off your hairy
ring-piece," replies the bloke. The manager is highly upset by the
bloke's
language but offers him the job on condition that he doesn't introduce
any
of his songs or talk to any of the customers.

This arrangement works well for a couple of months until one night,
sitting opposite him, is the most gorgeous blonde he has ever laid his
eyes
on. She's wearing an almost see through dress, her tits are almost
falling
out the top of her black lace bra, and the skimpy little 'G' string she's
wearing is riding up the crack of her arse. She sitting there with her
legs slightly open, sucking suggestively on asparagus shoots and the
butter
is dripping down her chin. It's too much for the bloke and he runs off to
the bogs to bash the bishop. He's tugging away furiously when he hears
the
manager's voice. "Where's that bastard pianist?"

He just has time to chuck his muck, and in a fluster he runs back to
the piano having not bothered to adjust himself properly, sits down and
starts playing some more tunes. The blonde steps up and walks over to the
piano, leans over and whispers in his ear, "Do you know your knob and
bollocks are hanging out your trousers and dripping spunk on your shoes?"
The bloke replies "Know it? I fucking wrote it."

Andrew Wood
System Administrator
Datalex UK, Sunley Tower
Piccadilly Plaza, Manchester, M1 4BT
TEL: 0161 2282286
FAX: 0161 2282900
http://www.datalexuk.com
mailto:andrew.wood at datalexuk.com
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