Joke Of The Day

This bloke with Tourette's Syndrome walks into the most exclusive
restaurant in town; "Where's the pissing, motherf***ing manager, you
cock sucking arsewipe?" he enquires of one of the waiters.

The waiter is taken aback and replies; "Excuse me sir but could you
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-f***ing
manager of this bastard place?."

"Yes sir, I am" replies the manager, "but I would prefer if you could
refrain from speaking such profanities in this, a private restaurant.

"f*** off" replies the bloke "and where's the f***ing piano?"

"Pardon?" says the manager.

"f***ing deaf as well, are we? you snivelling little piece of shit,show
me your c***ing 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 f***ing 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 your 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
bloke proceeds, playing the most melancholy jazz solo the manager has
ever heard.

"Magnificent," cries the manager. "What's it called?"

"I 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 f*** 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 the pianist, is the most gorgeous blonde he has
everlaid his eyes on. She's wearing an almost see through dress, her
breasts are almost falling out of her black lace bra, the skimpy little
"G" string she's wearing is doing very little to conceal her ample
charms. She's sitting there with her legs slightly open, sucking
suggestively on asparagus shoots as the butter dribbles down her chin.
The
image is too much for the bloke and he scurries off to the Gents to
furiously bash the bishop. He's tugging away feverishly when he hears
the manager's voice.

"Where's that bastard pianist?"

He has time to relieve himself, 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, boobs in
his face and whispers in his ear, "Do you know your knob and your
bollocks are hanging out of your trousers and dripping spunk on your
shoes?"...................

And the bloke replies: "Know it? I f***ing wrote it!!!'