Have you got a funny story

[Utar]

Tell us a funny story here, it doesn't have to be true, but it can be. These are stories that I hope make us smile, warm the heart, and feel a bit better.

Here is mine:
During my childhood years there was a large hill near our house. Every once in awhile the news would come with an alarming story about how the world was going to end on such and such day. So of those days my brother and I would climb the hill and set there waiting and watching for the world to end, but it never did....lol...

 

[Flushable Pets]

The mods would spank me if I shared some of my funny stories. True story.

 

[Fishmanic]

Yes we would

 

[Utar]

Ok sense no one else I am going to tell another funny story about my life. So get ya some popcorn, set back and relax because this one is going to take awhile....

I call this one "The Big Goose Egg and the Chocolate Bunny"

During my early childhood days of school, the school every year would invite us little monsters (I say this with affection ok, because I did feel loved) and our parents to an Easter Egg hunt. The prize of the day was a giant Chocolate Bunny, that is for one of us little tykes that finds the giant goose egg.

 

[itiwhetu]

I worked as a Bread Baker for many years. One night we had a power cut, and we were all standing outside in the car park ( 3am). It was suggested that one of the guys should go and put the kettle on so we could have a cuppa. A while later he came back and said. " You would never believe it but the bloody kettle is broken as well". True story.

 

[Link]

I used to live pretty close to an old farm. One morning I was driving past in the van while listening to Jimmy Somerfield. You know, he was the dude in that 80's band, The Communists. The farmer had put a large sign up at the front saying his donkey was for sale and that it was only £100. Sold as seen.

Bargain.

At the time I happened to be in the market for an odd toed ungulate so I dropped the tonne and collected said donkey that evening. #winning

Woke up the next day to find that the donkey had sadly 'bought the farm' during the night, so I went to see the farmer to get my funds back. To be honest I was feeling a bit mentally irregular about the whole debacle. He apologised profusely but said that he couldn't give me the money back because the donkey was sold as seen, and because he'd already spent it all on 'leisure pharmaceuticals' and who...hang on. Got to keep this family friendly haven't I? Dang it.

Look, either way, he didn't have the cash. "Ok then", I said. "I'll just raffle the donkey off instead! And get my money back that way." "You can't raffle off a dead donkey!", exclaimed the farmer. "If someone phones the Feds they'll proper pull your pants down!" "You just bloody watch me!", I replied defiantly. I gave him one of those 'uh-uh girlfriend' type gestures for effect. You know, the one where you draw a letter 'S' in the air with your finger. That told him.

Anyway, it must have been about two weeks later when I bumped into the farmer again. I was dumping some rubbish in his skip when he came around the corner, but luckily I acted natural and didn't get busted. His eyes weren't that good and were aimed at 10 to 2. You know, one eye looking at you, the other looking for you. "How did the donkey raffle go?", he asked. "Yeah pretty good", I replied triumphantly. "I sold a book of 500 tickets at two quid a pop and came out with £2 short of a grand. Top banana!"

"Well didn't anyone complain?", asked the farmer. Surprised I'd done so well out of the situation.

"Only the guy who won", I replied. "So I just gave him his £2 back."

 

[itiwhetu]

Thought I could give you another Bakery story. It was the shortest day of the year. I said to a couple of the guys that they could go home early if they could tell me how many hours were in the shortest day of the year. They looked at each other and said I'm not going to tell you. So I said to them that there were 24 hours in a normal day. After a pause one of them said 22 hours, I let them go home early. True Story.

 

[Link]

Both my parents (that's two of them to avoid any confusion) are getting on in years, so moved into a nice bungalow. Now for anyone who doesn't live in the greatest of Britain, a Bungalow is basically the housing equivalent of Katie 'Jordan' Price. Might not look too shabby on the outside but has nothing upstairs. The bungalow is in a kind of sheltered housing set up where they have a warden, late night parties, drugs and other debauchery. You get the idea.

Quite recently their neighbour got burgled mysteriously. I say mysteriously because nobody saw anything. Now, Mother is what you'd call a bit of a curtain twitcher. Once she senses movement outside she'll quickly move her head around trying to find the perfect spot within the net curtain pattern that will afford her the best view. She looks like an Owl fluidly moving it's head around when it thinks it's spotted a mouse nearby. If the ol' boy notices he'll often say 'twit-twoo' sarcastically while safely tucked away neatly behind the newspaper. Anyway, I digress.

The neighbour who was burgled happened to be Scottish. And as we know, the Scots are famed for their love of drinking and getting into fights. And the men are just as bad! So on hearing the disturbance she bursts through the door like an elderly and silver haired Tony Montana, "Say 'ello to my lil' friend". However it didn't end well. I'll spare you the graphic details that mother never spared me but lets just say it involved the vacuum cleaner and a tad too much ingenuity.

Obviously she ended up in hospital, so my mother dragged the ol' boy there to visit her the following evening. Heart on her sleeve and grapes in a brown paper bag. Once they were home and Mother had de-briefed the other residents, she phoned to update me and provide me with further details which I really didn't want.

"So anyway", she said. "Are you listening?"
"Yes mother", I replied.
"Right, so Mrs Smith overheard Mrs Johnson talking, and according to Mrs Browns' next door neighbours cousin, the vacuum cleaner is still picking up"

 

[Utar]

Years ago my home was broken into, while I was asleep in my bedroom on the other side of the house. I lived by myself. I was waken by the noise of some else in my house. So I reached over in the drawer of my nightstand and got my 357 mag pistol. I moved quietly through the house and stood at the door of my living listening to the person inside attempting to pull out my stereo. I reached around turning on the light, stepped inside the room with my pistol pointed at the intruder. The guy panicked and fell to the floor begging me not to shoot him, which I was totally in my rights to do so in Texas. But since now he was more scared of me than I was of him, I couldn't shoot him. Besides I new who he was, a young kid that lived in the area. I told him to get up and get out of my house, the kid ran as fast as he could get back out the door.

Later that day I call the Sheriff and a deputy came out and took my statement and we both examined the broken door lock where the kid and busted to get in. He asked if I wanted to press charges, I said no. I told the deputy to just go by the kids house and tell him never to show up on my property again. A few months later the family moved away and I never saw the kid again.