Monday, 14 September 2009

Every country's

See full size one I would imagine.

That ethnic or geographically isolated group that the rest of us suspect might take an overly close interest in woolly ruminants. Thanks to Thunderbay Pete for passing on this luminous gem in the bedazzling cluster we call sheep-shagging jokes.

An Aberdonian was washed up on a beach after a terrible shipwreck.
Only a sheep and a sheepdog were washed up with him.
Looking around, he realized they were stranded on a deserted island. After being there awhile, he got into the habit of taking his two animal companions to the beach every evening to watch the sun set. One particular evening, the sky was a fiery red with beautiful cirrus clouds, the breeze was warm and gentle - a perfect
night for romance.

As they sat there, the sheep started looking better
and better to the lonely Scot.
Soon, he leaned over to the sheep and... put his arm around it.

But the sheepdog, ever protective of the sheep, growled fiercely until the man took his arm from around the sheep.

After that, the three of them continued to enjoy the sunsets together but there was no more cuddling.

A few weeks passed by and, lo and behold, there was another shipwreck.
The only survivor was a beautiful young woman, the most beautiful woman the man had ever seen. She was in a pretty bad way when he rescued her
and he slowly nursed her back to health.
When the young maiden was well enough, he introduced her to their evening beach ritual. It was another beautiful evening... red sky, cirrus clouds, a warm and gentle breeze - perfect for a night of romance.
Pretty soon, the Aberdonian started to get 'those feelings' again.
He fought the urges as long as he could but he finally gave in and realizing he now had the opportunity, leaned over to the young woman cautiously and whispered in her ear,

'Would you mind taking the dog for a walk?'

And it also gives me the excuse to replay a desert-island sex gag that featured some years ago over on

For reasons that need not detain us here, Jimmy, a joiner from Coatbridge, finds himself washed up on a desert island with Sharon Stone.

Blessed with a plentiful supply of wood and tools from somewhere, Jimmy builds a hut and makes a decent job of getting food and such. Sharon soon involves Jimmy in matters carnal, but every morning as soon as the sun rises, Jimmy disappears into the hinterland leaving Sharon to wonder what all the banging and sawing's about.

Weeks pass, pleasurably spent exploring every bendy bit of Ms Stone, until one day, Jimmy leads her into the forest to look at his project: a Scottish pub fashioned out of local material.

Bidding her to remain silent, Jimmy presents Sharon with a waistcoat made of palm leaves to wear, and insists she attach a moustache made of leaves. He positions her behind the bar, steps back, then saunters forward, beckoning "the barman" with a bent finger.

"Here" he says, leaning conspiratorially over the bar counter, "you'll never guess who ahm shaggin’.."

No comments: