C**tgtasulazioningd to wwwwwwwwwh for shingling. PM myself with a new slut please. Meanwhereas...
Next slapperjack: Joke (chosen by Perry).
Leg closed: 6.12.20
Runners are nowt...
Score Position Name
8 1 Gappy,
7 2 Wwwwh
3 3 Playfull
1 4 Me...
Queen Mog 28.11 - 6.12.20
Hi Michael
I think "upside-down Hmmmmm" got 4 votes last time to my 3 (or 2 if you disallow the slightly late one), so he gets 2 points and I get one - meaning overall he has 7 and I have 6. Is that right, or am I confused?
I mean, I know I *should* be winning, but as Mr Giuliaini is currently busy, I'm going to let this ride uncontested.
Actually, I've got this wrong. I think we should be equal leaders, but with 6 points, not 7.
I've confused myself now. Whatever Michael says is right, is probably right.
I will also trust Michael, on the basis that I haven't the faintest idea how the scoring works in the first place.
Joking aside (cue "that's always true for you"), we could confirm the scoring. My take is it's 3 for 1st, 2 for 2nd, 1 for 3rd - but if only two people get any votes, then it's 2for 1st, 1 for 2nd. This si what I've observed, but I can't tell whether it's another system but either Michael or I occasionally make a mistake 
Hi. In the words of my dad, thanks for entering.
There used to be a scoring system with different points depending on position, but it was getting silly so now it's just one vote one point. I may have f**ked up because there are three things I can't do:
1. Spel.
2. Count.
Quote: wwwwwh @ 28th November 2020, 2:12 PMI will also trust Michael
That's what she said.
Well, there we go, I had no idea how the scoring worked (which might reflect Michael's mathematical ability, I don't know - his efforts are always appreciated though, I know that). Anyhoo, back to the matter in hand...
HAMLET: Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times. Where be your gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar?
HORATIO: Meh.
HAMLET: What's that, Horatio. Liked you not the jester Yorick?
HORATIO: He was OK, I suppose, Hamlet. Bit obvious.
HAMLET: Obviously hilarious, you mean.
HORATIO: He's fine at what he did, I just found the humour a little....broad.
HAMLET: Right, hang on, you're saying you didn't like the gibes?
HORATIO: I mean...gibes are fine for...the sort of people who like gibes.
HAMLET: Is that a gibe at me?
HORATIO: No. It's just -
HAMLET: How about the gambols? If you don't like the gibes, you must like the gambols.
HORATIO: I hate the gambols. Crowd-pleasing crap.
HAMLET: Yeah, well - if you're pleasing the crowd you're pleasing a lot of people.
HORATIO: A lot of stupid people.
HAMLET: Hey, that's a gibe at me!
HORATIO: You like gibes!
HAMLET: Not those gibes, funny ones.
HORATIO: Oh, like, gibes against the Norwegians? Racist gibes.
HAMLET: Typical! You don't like something, you call it racist.
HORATIO: No, I see something racist, I don't like it! Look, let's not argue about that. I just don't really like Yorick's Saturday night, live at the throne-room kind of comedy.
HAMLET: Oh, and what comedy do you like?
HORATIO: Stuff that's more underground.
HAMLET: The guy's buried, how much more underground do you want?
HORATIO: I just like comedy without japes. I find japes a bit obvious. I actually find it funnier when you think there's going to be a jape, but then actually in the end there isn't a jape.
HAMLET: You're insane, Horatio. Everyone loved Yorick. His humour was universal and timeless. Isn't that right, gravedigger?
GRAVEDIGGER; [COMMON ACCENT, CHUCKLING] He poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once.
HAMLET: [BEAT, THEN DISMISSIVE] Well, alright, it's not all gold. But I don't think that the most popular bits are actually the best.
GRAVEDIGGER: You stuck up prince.
HORATIO: Ah, the Rhenish! Now I did like some of his early stuff...
GRAVEDIGGER: Yeah. Simple. He had great timing in those days.
HORATIO: He did. An effortless talent.
GRAVEDIGGER: I got a bit bored when he started doing the bigger jokes. First it was a flagon of Rhenish, then a schooner of Madeira, and before you know it he was doing that Malmesy butt routine.
HAMLET: I love the Malmesy butt! [DOING A VOICE, AS IF IT'S A CATCHPHRASE] Or would you prefer the red wine, sir? [GUFFAWS]
GRAVEDIGGER: Nah, watered down.
HORATIO: Catchphrases, save me. This chap understands, a salt of the earth type.
GRAVEDIGGER: That's right! I like the flagon material, I like the falling over bits, and the puns about "lying in a grave".
HORATIO: Good man!
GRAVEDIGGER: And the bits about booting out the blackamoors.
HORATIO: [SLOWLY] Ohhhh...not...not those bits though.
HAMLET: Oh, I think he's being ironic when he does that.
SFX: PAUSE, THEN FAIRY-APPEARING NOISE (TINKLING BELLS?)
PUCK: Do you talk of revels?
HAMLET: Who are you, little fellow?
PUCK: I'm Puck, the merry wanderer of the night! Sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab,
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale
HORATIO: [BEAT] Get your own material, mate.
Ringo's album Postcards from Paradise is full of references to Beatle songs. If you can spot them all - you need a f**king hobby.
I don't want to admit to jerking off in a vegetable patch. But the thyme has come.
Mick Jagger falls over in a vegetable patch. He says, Thyme is on my side.
Cross between a turkey and a cow was upset. Fowl mooed.
When I heard my dad has a massive penis, I had to let it sink in for a minute.
I asked Bob Dylan, What's my mother doing when it's cold? He said, The answer, my friend...
RIP Maradona. Massive loss. To basketball.
Elton John just watched 30 hours of gay porn. He says, I'm still standing.
I've written a book to get Latin out of English. It's my opus magnum written compos mentis in this annus horribilis.
I don't give a f**k about Thanksgiving. How many of you American f**kers give a f**k about Guy Fawkes' Night?
Why are people always so proud and smug about finding a partner on Tinder? Can't be that difficult, that's what it's for. It's like going into a brothel and finding a whore. 'Got meself a girl for the night.' - 'Where?' -'Whorehouse.' - 'Awesome, dude. Don Juan amidst us tonight.'
I don't give a f**k about Black Friday. Double the prices, triple the prices, millionuple the prices, then once a f**king year take two centesimi off and think I'll give a f**k? F**k you.
They wanna remove any potentially racist language from the media. Golly!
Paul McCartney shopping in the Bowie section. I said, 'What're you doing?' He said, 'Looking for Changes.'
Paul McCartney shopping for in the U2 section. I said, 'Why?' He said, 'I still haven't found what I'm looking for.'
Paul McCartney shopping in the One Direction section. C**t.
No Joke
INT. TV STUDIO EDITING SUITE - DAY
POPULAR 70s TV SHOW THE JOKERS PLAYS ON TV SCREEN AS TWO PRODUCERS SIT WATCHING IT
FROM TV - STAN: These Geermans -
PROD. 1: Hmm, there's a sneery review of our show in The Guardian, have you read it?
FROM TV - STAN: And these Geeermans -
PROD. 2: No, what does it say?
PROD. 1: "I long for the day when this stale old xenophobic rubbish will be off our screens."
FROM TV - STAN: Then these Geeeermans -
PROD 1: "In fact I can envisage an age where all jokes about race or ethnicity or gender or sexual inclination are strictly off limits."
FROM TV - STAN: So I said "It's them bloody Geeeeeermans again."
SFX: HUGE APPLAUSE AND LAUGHTER FROM TV
PROD 1: "The humour is low wit working men's club crudeness and rudeness with a penchant for offending as many sections of society as possible."
PROD 2: Hmm, well maybe it could do with freshening up a bit.
PROD 1: Do you think that's really necessary because of what some over sensitive lefty in The Guardian says? There's nothing wrong with good earthy humour. Mark my words, they'll still be laughing at these jokes in fifty years time.
FROM TV - BERNARD: A poofter, a paddy and a n*g n*g walk into a bar...
The Joke Works
INT. An old Victorian building in Rotherham. Office. Day. A journalist from the Rotherham Advertiser interviews the boss of The Joke Works.
Rose: (Looking around) Oh! It's not what I thought it would be?
Paul: Visitors don't I'm afraid
Rose: They don't?
Paul: Security. Visitors and customers are not allowed anywhere near our joke
writers for obvious reasons. Can you sign our visitors book please
The journalist writes her name in the guest book over looked by Paul
Paul: Ha, Rose Peanut. RP and not KP?. ( Laughs at his own joke)
Rose: You're years behind with that joke Mr . . . erm
Paul: Oh sorry, Paul (Pauses pushes out his hand) Paul Scratchings
Rose: (Chuckles, shakes his hand)
Paul: Oh we will have a Rose Peanut in the funny names files along with my
own name of course. Probably gathering dust in our archives
Rose: Archives?
Paul: Oh yeah, down in the vaults. We save every joke for every occasion,
sometimes they can be used over and over again.
Rose: Do you have your writers writing fresh jokes?
Paul: We certainly do and that's how we make money by writing fresh clean
jokes for comedians.
(Eyes roll) Unless they are for Frankie Boyle of course. Erm. . .Do you
like a good gag, Rose?
Rose: Well, all depends how long it is (blushes)
Paul: Ha Ha I like it. ( Writes joke on a sheet of paper, )
We'll sell that one to Alan Carr. ( Walks over to a side door and knocks)
F/X KNOCK KNOCK.
Woman's voice: Who's there?
Paul: Moo
Woman's voice: Moo who?
Paul: It's me you silly cow
F/X Door creaks open. High heels footsteps on a wooden floor
Paul: Miss Beryl O' Laughs, can you send this down to the storage
department
Beryl: (Snatches the paper) Oh you are awful, but I like ya ( Pushes Paul who
stumbles backwards and crashes behind his desk.)
F/X Footsteps swiftly walking away and the door slams shut
Rose: (Giggling and trying to contain herself she looks up from her notebook)
Has The Joke Works got a wide selection of jokes for sale?
Paul: (Pulling himself up and sweeping back his hair) Indeed. The Joke
Works has been a World leader in joke writing ever since Queen
Victory was on the throne and Prince Albert was desperate to go on it
too (Guffaws at his own joke)
We are the world leaders for Puns, one liners and observation gags.
Puns are our cheapest, ten a penny they are. One liners are still our
best sellers and our observation jokes are a close second. Every joke
is checked and rechecked before it leaves the works. We look for
imperfections to make sure the jokes have no racist elements.
Rose: That's good.
Paul: The Joke Works had to move with the times. We had to leave the
nineteen seventies behind what with the likes of Bernard Manning,
Frank Carson and all the others on The Comedians. The Joke Works
would have gone bust had we not change direction. So in
came the new, with the likes of Lenny Henry, Russ Abbott, Dustin Gee
and Les Dennis . . .
Rose: Les Dennis?
Paul: Oh yeah he's still on our books to this day. We are still writing Mavis
jokes for him.
Rose: Do The Joke Works ever hit any problems
Paul: Oh certainly, we do have the occasional joke hitting the fan. A sort of
production malfunction.
Rose: (intrigued) Could you give our readers an example?
Paul: Well, only last year a Chubby Brown joke happened to slip into our
Christmas Crackers. Ten thousand had to be recalled.
Rose: (Shocked) Ten Thousand?
Paul: Aye, the terrible thought of having a little old granny at a family
Christmas dinner reading out "You Fat Bastard, You Fat Bastard."
Doesn't bear thinking about and the lawsuits too.
Rose: (Giggling) So, the cost of the joke, how does that work out?
Paul: Every gag is marked up according to the laughter it produces. We have
professional joke tasters who sit in booths and are fed with jokes and
they give scores out of ten for each joke. The jokes are priced to what
score they have received. Simple when you think about
it. It's a tried and tested method for over one hundred years.
Rose: Is The Joke Works making a profit?
Paul: At the moment, Yes. We do have jokes for a rainy day. You know, when
someone famous kicks the bucket and our vans are racing out of the
gates to reach our comedians up and down the country so they can tell
their audiences before the joke gets out on the internet.
Rose: And the future, Mr Scratchings?
Paul: Who knows the future, Miss Peanut? We do have competition from
abroad.
Rose: (Raises eyebrow) Abroad?
Paul: Oh yeah, cheap imports from the far east and fakes.
Rose: Fakes?
Paul: Annoyingly yes. From China. Very good copies actually.
Rose: How can you tell if it's a fake?
Paul: It is usually one word that gives it away, like it will say iriot instead of
Idiot.
Both chuckle
Paul: Cheap jokes are being written by children in sweat joke shops in
Bangladesh and India.Those poor children are only earning a few
rupees a hour, fourteen hours a day and their jokes end up on Lord
Sugar's Apprentice programme. Cruel when you think about it.
Rose: Oh, how terrible
Paul: Sadly we don't have enough joke coast guards to stop speed boats
from crossing the English Channel under the cover of darkness. There
aren't enough joke police to prevent them reaching Open Mic shows
thus destroying a fledgling comic's career.
Rose: Oh dear, the dreadful thought of our comedians not being funny no
more
Paul: Exactly. Only last week a contraband of fake jokes were intercepted at
the Live at the Apollo. Luckily they were seized and it saved Tim vine
from dying on the stage.
Rose: Thank you Mr Scratchings for this interview and giving our readers an
Insight into how The Jokes Works makes us all laugh
Paul: It's my pleasure Miss Rose Peanut. Ha Ha I'm sure we've got your
name stored in our archives
Rose: You are awful . . . but I like ya ( She hits him with her hand bag sending
him crashing into his desk and she leaves the office laughing)
THE OVAL OFFICE, WHITEHOUSE. TRUMP IS STANDING LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOW. JARRED KUSHNER ENTERS.
JARRED: You wanted to see me Mr President?
TRUMP: Come in Gerald.
JARRED: Its Jarr...Never mind, What can I do for you Mr President?
TRUMP: It's the desk Garry.
JARRED: The tiny desk?
TRUMP: Yes, be honest Jerry, do I look silly sitting at the desk?
JARRED: Do you want the truth Mr President?
TRUMP: Yes. The press are saying Melania gave it to me as a Joke.
JARRED: Are you sure you want the real, straight talking truth?
TRUMP: Absolutely!
JARRED: In that case...No, Mr President. You don't look silly. It makes you look strong, powerful, commanding...We just need to take the Chad Valley label off.
TRUMP: I knew it, Melania has no sense of humour and anyway 74 million American voters can't be wrong.
JARRED: No, but 81million can be, eh?
TRUMP: What!?
JARRED: I meant 81 million fake votes can be wrong...did I mention we have come up with slogan for 2024?
TRUMP: No.
JARRED: Vote early and vote often!
TRUMP: I Like it.
JARRED: And we are thinking, before we leave the White House we are going to double the size of the doors, raise the ceiling height, and get an extra-large desk in. By the time we have finished Biden is going to look like a tiny, weak little man. And we are fitting extra large urinals...
TRUMP: And they really work, they make your penis look really small.
JARRED: We have not fitted them yet...
TRUMP: Oh.
VOICEOVER: Here's the latest update in AI news. As we know, recent developments in quantum computing have led to robots taking over all human toil, leaving mankind to live a life of relaxation and luxury. However, there remains one human function that these benevolent machines are as yet still unable to adequately perform - comedy. But while androids are not yet capable of constructing jokes, this does not mean they are incapable of understanding the mechanics of a joke.
ROBOT: This set by John Bishop is laugh-a-minute. Estimated time until next joke: 58 seconds.
VOICEOVER: These 'AI critics' are capable of understanding the concept of humour, despite lacking the capacity to actually enjoy it, an early robot prototype being Brian Logan in The Guardian. Here we can witness automatons learning to simulate appreciation of comedy.
TRAINER: First we must calibrate your physical responses according to recognised intensity of humorous content. Uproarious guffaw - The News Quiz. Involuntary snigger - Newsjack. Polite chuckle - Newsthump. Internal haemorrhaging - BCG Gag-of-the-week.
VOICEOVER: While robots are unable to perform stand-up comedy, they are able to provide a more noble function in the comedy industry - providing audience members for desperate open mic nights. Here is footage from one of London's top comedy nights, where robotic neural nets are used to simulate typical audience behaviour.
MC: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Gag Kitchen, here in somebody's kitchen! What do you do, ma'am?
ROBOT: I am a comedy watching robot.
MC: Thanks for coming! Hey, you know how some pencils have a rubber on the end?
ROBOT: You are shit. I am going to order a kebab.
VOICEOVER: The ability to assess comedy also has vital applications in the law, where courts must hear dozens of cases a day to determine whether statements made on television and in social media are jokes or hate crimes. Early attempts at applying AI to these cases have led to the recent convictions of Frankie Boyle, Fin Taylor and Count Dankula's dog, but there have since been attempts to add context to the decision making process.
ROBOT JUDGE: You are accused of murdering this man. However, CCTV footage shows you were wearing a clown's nose at the time of the murder. Verdict: it was a joke. I hereby find you not guilty and award you Dave's joke-of-the-fringe.
VOICEOVER: But never let it be said that our super-intelligent android overlords have any intention of giving up on developing a sense of humour. There are early indications that they are beginning to master the speech patterns of certain famous comedians.
ROBOT JIMMY CARR: Rohypnol. Ha-ha!
What a fantabulous week... I think wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwh but it was tighter than a Scottish virgin.
With a crushing inevitability, I vote w-w-w-w-w-h! A g-g-ghost!
Michael had the best joke density but I'll go for Playful as I like political satire and it was easy reading and obviously funny. Reminded me of Spitting Image (old one).
All the other entrants of course, had their merits. I think my entry was too short ...