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Anyone else think the Monty Python films are great?
And SR, why don't you sell them! You only sell Monty Python the series! SELL THE FILMS OR ELSE!
And SR, why don't you sell them! You only sell Monty Python the series! SELL THE FILMS OR ELSE!
Page:
Slaveunit wrote:
> You eeengleesh Keniggots! I wave my armpits in your general
> direction. Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelled of
> elderberries!
I fart in your genral direction!!!
> You eeengleesh Keniggots! I wave my armpits in your general
> direction. Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelled of
> elderberries!
I fart in your genral direction!!!
man in chat show.
"hello and today were going to talk about ...........um ............um...... mem........ er.........um.........i don't............its on the tip of my tounge............. um............hold on............ its coming......... memor..............memor........ nearly there............... um its......... memor.......y
.........memory............. lo.......ss......
oh yeh, memory loss.
well i'm afraid we've run out of time.
Bye!"
"hello and today were going to talk about ...........um ............um...... mem........ er.........um.........i don't............its on the tip of my tounge............. um............hold on............ its coming......... memor..............memor........ nearly there............... um its......... memor.......y
.........memory............. lo.......ss......
oh yeh, memory loss.
well i'm afraid we've run out of time.
Bye!"
Man: 'Evening, squire!
Squire: (stiffly) Good evening.
Man: Is, uh,...Is your wife a goer, eh? Know whatahmean, know whatahmean,
nudge nudge, know whatahmean, say no more?
Squire: I, uh, I beg your pardon?
M: Your, uh, your wife, does she go, eh, does she go, eh?
S: (flustered) Well, she sometimes "goes", yes.
M: Aaaaaaaah bet she does, I bet she does, say no more, say no more,
knowwhatahmean, nudge nudge?
S: (confused) I'm afraid I don't quite follow you.
M: Follow me. Follow me. That's good, that's good! A nod's as good as a
wink to a blind bat!
S: Are you, uh,...are you selling something?
M: SELLING! Very good, very good! Ay? Ay? Ay?
(pause)
M: Oooh! Ya wicked Ay! Wicked Ay! Oooh hooh! Say No MORE!
S: Well, I, uh....
M: Is, your uh, is your wife a sport, ay?
S: Um, she likes sport, yes!
M: I bet she does, I bet she does!
S: As a matter of fact she's very fond of cricket.
M: 'Oo isn't? Likes games, eh? Knew she would. Likes games, eh? She's been
around a bit, been around?
S: She has traveled, yes. She's from Scarsdale.
(pause)
M: SAY NO MORE!!
M: Scarsdale, saynomore, saynomore, saynomore, squire!
S: I wasn't going to!
M: Oh! Well, never mind. Dib dib?
Is your uh, is your wife interested in....photography, ay?
"Photographs, ay", he asked him knowlingly?
S: Photography?
M: Snap snap, grin grin, wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more?
S: Holiday snaps, eh?
M: They could be, they could be taken on holiday. Candid, you know,
CANDID photography?
S: No, no I'm afraid we don't have a camera.
M: Oh. (leeringly) Still, mooooooh, ay? Mwoohohohohoo, ay? Hohohohohoho, ay?
S: Look... are you insinuating something?
M: Oh, no, no, no...yes.
S: Well?
M: Well, you're a man of the world, squire.
S: Yes...
M: I mean, you've been around a bit, you know, like, you've, uh....
You've "done it"....
S: What do you mean?
M: Well, I mean like,....you've SLEPT, with a lady....
S: Yes....
M: What's it like?
Squire: (stiffly) Good evening.
Man: Is, uh,...Is your wife a goer, eh? Know whatahmean, know whatahmean,
nudge nudge, know whatahmean, say no more?
Squire: I, uh, I beg your pardon?
M: Your, uh, your wife, does she go, eh, does she go, eh?
S: (flustered) Well, she sometimes "goes", yes.
M: Aaaaaaaah bet she does, I bet she does, say no more, say no more,
knowwhatahmean, nudge nudge?
S: (confused) I'm afraid I don't quite follow you.
M: Follow me. Follow me. That's good, that's good! A nod's as good as a
wink to a blind bat!
S: Are you, uh,...are you selling something?
M: SELLING! Very good, very good! Ay? Ay? Ay?
(pause)
M: Oooh! Ya wicked Ay! Wicked Ay! Oooh hooh! Say No MORE!
S: Well, I, uh....
M: Is, your uh, is your wife a sport, ay?
S: Um, she likes sport, yes!
M: I bet she does, I bet she does!
S: As a matter of fact she's very fond of cricket.
M: 'Oo isn't? Likes games, eh? Knew she would. Likes games, eh? She's been
around a bit, been around?
S: She has traveled, yes. She's from Scarsdale.
(pause)
M: SAY NO MORE!!
M: Scarsdale, saynomore, saynomore, saynomore, squire!
S: I wasn't going to!
M: Oh! Well, never mind. Dib dib?
Is your uh, is your wife interested in....photography, ay?
"Photographs, ay", he asked him knowlingly?
S: Photography?
M: Snap snap, grin grin, wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more?
S: Holiday snaps, eh?
M: They could be, they could be taken on holiday. Candid, you know,
CANDID photography?
S: No, no I'm afraid we don't have a camera.
M: Oh. (leeringly) Still, mooooooh, ay? Mwoohohohohoo, ay? Hohohohohoho, ay?
S: Look... are you insinuating something?
M: Oh, no, no, no...yes.
S: Well?
M: Well, you're a man of the world, squire.
S: Yes...
M: I mean, you've been around a bit, you know, like, you've, uh....
You've "done it"....
S: What do you mean?
M: Well, I mean like,....you've SLEPT, with a lady....
S: Yes....
M: What's it like?
You eeengleesh Keniggots! I wave my armpits in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelled of elderberries!
Now go away before i taunt you a second time.
Now go away before i taunt you a second time.
The "We Were Poor" Sketch from "Monty Python Live at City Center" and "Monty
Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl"
Four well-dressed men sitting together at a vacation resort. "Farewell to Thee" being played in the background on Hawaiian guitar.
Michael Palin: Ahh.. Very passable, this, very passable.
Graham Chapman: Nothing like a good glass of Chateau de Chassilier wine, ay Gessiah?
Terry Gilliam: You're right there Obediah.
Eric Idle: Who'd a thought thirty years ago we'd all be sittin' here drinking Chateau de Chassilier wine?
MP: Aye. In them days, we'd a' been glad to have the price of a cup o' tea.
GC: A cup ' COLD tea.
EI: Without milk or sugar.
TG: OR tea!
MP: In a filthy, cracked cup.
EI: We never used to have a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled up newspaper.
GC: The best WE could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth.
TG: But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor.
MP: Aye. BECAUSE we were poor. My old Dad used to say to me, "Money doesn't buy you happiness."
EI: 'E was right. I was happier then and I had NOTHIN'. We used to live in this tiiiny old house, with greaaaaat big holes in the roof.
GC: House? You were lucky to have a HOUSE! We used to live in one room, all hundred and twenty-six of us, no furniture. Half the floor was missing; we were all huddled together in one corner for fear of FALLING!
TG: You were lucky to have a ROOM! *We* used to have to live in a corridor!
MP: Ohhhh we used to DREAM of livin' in a corridor! Woulda' been a palace to us. We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish tip. We got woken up every morning by having a load of rotting fish dumped all over us! House!? Hmph.
EI: Well when I say "house" it was only a hole in the ground covered by a piece of tarpolin, but it was a house to US.
GC: We were evicted from *our* hole in the ground; we had to go and live in a lake!
TG: You were lucky to have a LAKE! There were a hundred and sixty of us living in a small shoebox in the middle of the road.
MP: Cardboard box?
TG: Aye.
MP: You were lucky. We lived for three months in a brown paper bag in a septic tank. We used to have to get up at six o'clock in the morning, clean the bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down mill for fourteen hours a day week in-week out. When we got home, out Dad would thrash us to sleep with his belt!
GC: Luxury. We used to have to get out of the lake at three o'clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of hot gravel, go to work at the mill every day for tuppence a month, come home, and Dad would beat us around the head and neck with a broken bottle, if we were LUCKY!
TG: Well we had it tough. We used to have to get up out of the shoebox at twelve o'clock at night, and LICK the road clean with our tongues. We had half a handful of freezing cold gravel, worked twenty-four hours a day at the mill for fourpence every six years, and when we got home, our Dad would slice us in two with a bread knife.
EI: Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, (pause for laughter), eat a lump of cold poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad would kill us, and dance about on our graves singing "Hallelujah."
MP: But you try and tell the young people today that... and they won't believe ya'.
ALL: Nope, nope..
Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl"
Four well-dressed men sitting together at a vacation resort. "Farewell to Thee" being played in the background on Hawaiian guitar.
Michael Palin: Ahh.. Very passable, this, very passable.
Graham Chapman: Nothing like a good glass of Chateau de Chassilier wine, ay Gessiah?
Terry Gilliam: You're right there Obediah.
Eric Idle: Who'd a thought thirty years ago we'd all be sittin' here drinking Chateau de Chassilier wine?
MP: Aye. In them days, we'd a' been glad to have the price of a cup o' tea.
GC: A cup ' COLD tea.
EI: Without milk or sugar.
TG: OR tea!
MP: In a filthy, cracked cup.
EI: We never used to have a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled up newspaper.
GC: The best WE could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth.
TG: But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor.
MP: Aye. BECAUSE we were poor. My old Dad used to say to me, "Money doesn't buy you happiness."
EI: 'E was right. I was happier then and I had NOTHIN'. We used to live in this tiiiny old house, with greaaaaat big holes in the roof.
GC: House? You were lucky to have a HOUSE! We used to live in one room, all hundred and twenty-six of us, no furniture. Half the floor was missing; we were all huddled together in one corner for fear of FALLING!
TG: You were lucky to have a ROOM! *We* used to have to live in a corridor!
MP: Ohhhh we used to DREAM of livin' in a corridor! Woulda' been a palace to us. We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish tip. We got woken up every morning by having a load of rotting fish dumped all over us! House!? Hmph.
EI: Well when I say "house" it was only a hole in the ground covered by a piece of tarpolin, but it was a house to US.
GC: We were evicted from *our* hole in the ground; we had to go and live in a lake!
TG: You were lucky to have a LAKE! There were a hundred and sixty of us living in a small shoebox in the middle of the road.
MP: Cardboard box?
TG: Aye.
MP: You were lucky. We lived for three months in a brown paper bag in a septic tank. We used to have to get up at six o'clock in the morning, clean the bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down mill for fourteen hours a day week in-week out. When we got home, out Dad would thrash us to sleep with his belt!
GC: Luxury. We used to have to get out of the lake at three o'clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of hot gravel, go to work at the mill every day for tuppence a month, come home, and Dad would beat us around the head and neck with a broken bottle, if we were LUCKY!
TG: Well we had it tough. We used to have to get up out of the shoebox at twelve o'clock at night, and LICK the road clean with our tongues. We had half a handful of freezing cold gravel, worked twenty-four hours a day at the mill for fourpence every six years, and when we got home, our Dad would slice us in two with a bread knife.
EI: Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, (pause for laughter), eat a lump of cold poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad would kill us, and dance about on our graves singing "Hallelujah."
MP: But you try and tell the young people today that... and they won't believe ya'.
ALL: Nope, nope..
man walks up to farmer in field.
"h-hello there,"said the man in a posh voice.
"afternoon,"said the farmer.
"may i ask you something?" said the man.
"yep"
"those are sheep arn't they?"
"yep, why do you ask?"
"well then why are most of them up in that tree?"
they both turned their heads and looked at the sheep.
"well you see sheep arn't the cleverest of animals and once they get an idea in their heads theres no shifting it.
It all started with rodger.now rodger is one of the most dangerous animals, a clever sheep.he figured out that a sheeps life is just eating and then geting eaten.so him and his fellow sheep are tring to escape.last week it was tunneling but they found they didn't have claws and they couldn't hold spades.This week they're climing trees and tring to fly over the fence." the farmer stopped and peered at the tree bound sheep.
they both watched and listened to the sheep.
"baaa" flap, flap......bang!
"baaa" flap, flap......bang!
"notice," said the farmer," how they don't so much fly but plumet...."
"baaa" flap, flap......bang!
"h-hello there,"said the man in a posh voice.
"afternoon,"said the farmer.
"may i ask you something?" said the man.
"yep"
"those are sheep arn't they?"
"yep, why do you ask?"
"well then why are most of them up in that tree?"
they both turned their heads and looked at the sheep.
"well you see sheep arn't the cleverest of animals and once they get an idea in their heads theres no shifting it.
It all started with rodger.now rodger is one of the most dangerous animals, a clever sheep.he figured out that a sheeps life is just eating and then geting eaten.so him and his fellow sheep are tring to escape.last week it was tunneling but they found they didn't have claws and they couldn't hold spades.This week they're climing trees and tring to fly over the fence." the farmer stopped and peered at the tree bound sheep.
they both watched and listened to the sheep.
"baaa" flap, flap......bang!
"baaa" flap, flap......bang!
"notice," said the farmer," how they don't so much fly but plumet...."
"baaa" flap, flap......bang!
No, I'm going to have to get those videos at some point, hilarious stuff!
Did anyone see MP's "the history of the jape" sketch on the Live at the hollywood bowl vid?
I nearly wet myself...!
I nearly wet myself...!
The Pet Shop Sketch from "And Now For Something Completely Different"
A customer enters a pet shop.
Customer: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The owner does not respond.)
C: 'Ello, Miss?
Owner: What do you mean "miss"?
C: I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!
O: We're closin' for lunch.
C: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this parrot what I
purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
O: Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Blue...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?
C: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's dead, that's what's
wrong with it!
O: No, no, 'e's uh,...he's resting.
C: Look, matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I'm looking
at one right now.
O: No no he's not dead, he's, he's restin'! Remarkable bird, the Norwegian
Blue, idn'it, ay? Beautiful plumage!
C: The plumage don't enter into it. It's stone dead.
O: Nononono, no, no! 'E's resting!
C: All right then, if he's restin', I'll wake him up!
(shouting at the cage)
'Ello, Mister Polly Parrot! I've got a lovely fresh cuttle fish for you if
you show...(owner hits the cage)
O: There, he moved!
C: No, he didn't, that was you hitting the cage!
O: I never!!
C: Yes, you did!
O: I never, never did anything...
C: (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) 'ELLO POLLY!!!!!
Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o'clock alarm call!
(Takes parrot out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up
in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)
C: Now that's what I call a dead parrot.
O: No, no.....No, 'e's stunned!
C: STUNNED?!?
O: Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin' up! Norwegian Blues
stun easily, major.
C: Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this.
That parrot is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not 'alf an hour
ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein'
tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.
O: Well, he's...he's, ah...probably pining for the fjords.
C: PININ' for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why
did he fall flat on his back the moment I got 'im home?
O: The Norwegian Blue prefers keepin' on it's back! Remarkable bird, id'nit,
squire? Lovely plumage!
C: Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot when I got it home,
and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in
the first place was that it had been NAILED there.
(pause)
O: Well, o'course it was nailed there! If I hadn't nailed that bird down,
it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent 'em apart with its beak, and
VOOM! Feeweeweewee!
C: "VOOM"?!? Mate, this bird wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts
through it! 'E's bleedin' demised!
O: No no! 'E's pining!
C: 'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased
to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft
of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be
pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off
the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run
down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!!
THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!
(pause)
O: Well, I'd better replace it, then.
(he takes a quick peek behind the counter)
O: Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're
right out of parrots.
C: I see. I see, I get the picture.
O: I got a slug.
(pause)
C: (sweet as sugar) Pray, does it talk?
O: Nnnnot really.
C: WELL IT'S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?
O: Look, if you go to my brother's pet shop in Bolton, he'll replace
the parrot for you.
C: Bolton, eh? Very well.
The customer leaves.
The customer enters the same pet shop. The owner is putting on a false
moustache.
C: This is Bolton, is it?
O: (with a fake mustache) No, it's Ipswitch.
C: (looking at the camera) That's inter-city rail for you.
The customer goes to the train station.
He addresses a man standing behind a desk marked "Complaints".
C: I wish to complain, British-Railways Person.
Attendant: I DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS JOB, YOU KNOW!!!
C: I beg your pardon...?
A: I'm a qualified brain surgeon! I only do this job because I like
being my own boss!
C: Excuse me, this is irrelevant, isn't it?
A: Yeah, well it's not easy to pad these python files out to 150 lines,
you know.
C: Well, I wish to complain. I got on the Bolton train and found myself
deposited here in Ipswitch.
A: No, this is Bolton.
C: (to the camera) The pet shop man's brother was lying!!
A: Can't blame British Rail for that.
C: In that case, I shall return to the pet shop!
He does.
C: I understand this IS Bolton.
O: (still with the fake mustache) Yes?
C: You told me it was Ipswitch!
O: ...It was a pun.
C: (pause) A PUN?!?
O: No, no...not a pun...What's that thing that spells the same backwards
as forwards?
C: (Long pause) A palindrome...?
O: Yeah, that's it!
C: It's not a palindrome! The palindrome of "Bolton" would be "Notlob"!!
It don't work!!
O: Well, what do you want?
C: I'm not prepared to pursue my line of inquiry any longer as I think
this is getting too silly!
A customer enters a pet shop.
Customer: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The owner does not respond.)
C: 'Ello, Miss?
Owner: What do you mean "miss"?
C:
O: We're closin' for lunch.
C: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this parrot what I
purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
O: Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Blue...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?
C: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's dead, that's what's
wrong with it!
O: No, no, 'e's uh,...he's resting.
C: Look, matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I'm looking
at one right now.
O: No no he's not dead, he's, he's restin'! Remarkable bird, the Norwegian
Blue, idn'it, ay? Beautiful plumage!
C: The plumage don't enter into it. It's stone dead.
O: Nononono, no, no! 'E's resting!
C: All right then, if he's restin', I'll wake him up!
(shouting at the cage)
'Ello, Mister Polly Parrot! I've got a lovely fresh cuttle fish for you if
you show...(owner hits the cage)
O: There, he moved!
C: No, he didn't, that was you hitting the cage!
O: I never!!
C: Yes, you did!
O: I never, never did anything...
C: (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) 'ELLO POLLY!!!!!
Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o'clock alarm call!
(Takes parrot out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up
in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)
C: Now that's what I call a dead parrot.
O: No, no.....No, 'e's stunned!
C: STUNNED?!?
O: Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin' up! Norwegian Blues
stun easily, major.
C: Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this.
That parrot is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not 'alf an hour
ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein'
tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.
O: Well, he's...he's, ah...probably pining for the fjords.
C: PININ' for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why
did he fall flat on his back the moment I got 'im home?
O: The Norwegian Blue prefers keepin' on it's back! Remarkable bird, id'nit,
squire? Lovely plumage!
C: Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot when I got it home,
and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in
the first place was that it had been NAILED there.
(pause)
O: Well, o'course it was nailed there! If I hadn't nailed that bird down,
it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent 'em apart with its beak, and
VOOM! Feeweeweewee!
C: "VOOM"?!? Mate, this bird wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts
through it! 'E's bleedin' demised!
O: No no! 'E's pining!
C: 'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased
to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft
of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be
pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off
the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run
down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!!
THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!
(pause)
O: Well, I'd better replace it, then.
(he takes a quick peek behind the counter)
O: Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're
right out of parrots.
C: I see. I see, I get the picture.
O:
(pause)
C: (sweet as sugar) Pray, does it talk?
O: Nnnnot really.
C: WELL IT'S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?
O: Look, if you go to my brother's pet shop in Bolton, he'll replace
the parrot for you.
C: Bolton, eh? Very well.
The customer leaves.
The customer enters the same pet shop. The owner is putting on a false
moustache.
C: This is Bolton, is it?
O: (with a fake mustache) No, it's Ipswitch.
C: (looking at the camera) That's inter-city rail for you.
The customer goes to the train station.
He addresses a man standing behind a desk marked "Complaints".
C: I wish to complain, British-Railways Person.
Attendant: I DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS JOB, YOU KNOW!!!
C: I beg your pardon...?
A: I'm a qualified brain surgeon! I only do this job because I like
being my own boss!
C: Excuse me, this is irrelevant, isn't it?
A: Yeah, well it's not easy to pad these python files out to 150 lines,
you know.
C: Well, I wish to complain. I got on the Bolton train and found myself
deposited here in Ipswitch.
A: No, this is Bolton.
C: (to the camera) The pet shop man's brother was lying!!
A: Can't blame British Rail for that.
C: In that case, I shall return to the pet shop!
He does.
C: I understand this IS Bolton.
O: (still with the fake mustache) Yes?
C: You told me it was Ipswitch!
O: ...It was a pun.
C: (pause) A PUN?!?
O: No, no...not a pun...What's that thing that spells the same backwards
as forwards?
C: (Long pause) A palindrome...?
O: Yeah, that's it!
C: It's not a palindrome! The palindrome of "Bolton" would be "Notlob"!!
It don't work!!
O: Well, what do you want?
C: I'm not prepared to pursue my line of inquiry any longer as I think
this is getting too silly!
'The holy Grile' is amazing!
Old man standing at rope bridge across high cliff with fast rough river 200 feet at the bottom saying to king and his knights,"to past this bridge you must answer 3 questions.If you pass you or say an inccorect answer you will go flying into the river."
the first knight walks up to him.
"whats you name?" said the old man.
"sir lancealot."
"how old are you?"
"32."
"whats your favourite colour?"
"blue."
"you may pass." The night walked across the bridge,"next," said the old man.
Another night walked up to the man.
"whats you name?" said the old man.
"sir cromalot."
"how old are you?"
"28."
"what is the average speed of a migrating swollow?"
"a swollow?thats not fair, his was easyer.i-i don't.......aaahhhhh!!" the man was picked up by an invisable force and thrown in the river.
"next," said the old man
"whats you name?" said the old man.
"sir gropealot."
"how old are you?"
"36."
"whats your favourite colour?"
"red.No wait its gree.......aaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!"the man was picked up by an invisable force and thrown in the river.
"next," said the old man.
Another night walked up to the man.
"whats you name?" said the old man.
"king arthor."
"how old are you?"
"31."
"what is the average speed of a migrating swollow?"
"british or african?" asked arthor.
"british or african?huh?"said the old man,"um.....well i dont realy kno........aaaahhhhhh!!!" The old man was picked up by an invisable force and thrown in the river.
arthor and the rest of his men walked across.
Old man standing at rope bridge across high cliff with fast rough river 200 feet at the bottom saying to king and his knights,"to past this bridge you must answer 3 questions.If you pass you or say an inccorect answer you will go flying into the river."
the first knight walks up to him.
"whats you name?" said the old man.
"sir lancealot."
"how old are you?"
"32."
"whats your favourite colour?"
"blue."
"you may pass." The night walked across the bridge,"next," said the old man.
Another night walked up to the man.
"whats you name?" said the old man.
"sir cromalot."
"how old are you?"
"28."
"what is the average speed of a migrating swollow?"
"a swollow?thats not fair, his was easyer.i-i don't.......aaahhhhh!!" the man was picked up by an invisable force and thrown in the river.
"next," said the old man
"whats you name?" said the old man.
"sir gropealot."
"how old are you?"
"36."
"whats your favourite colour?"
"red.No wait its gree.......aaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!"the man was picked up by an invisable force and thrown in the river.
"next," said the old man.
Another night walked up to the man.
"whats you name?" said the old man.
"king arthor."
"how old are you?"
"31."
"what is the average speed of a migrating swollow?"
"british or african?" asked arthor.
"british or african?huh?"said the old man,"um.....well i dont realy kno........aaaahhhhhh!!!" The old man was picked up by an invisable force and thrown in the river.
arthor and the rest of his men walked across.
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