What passes for comedy

Attached is a tedious list of the ‘funniest’ jokes at the Edinburgh fringe. Take some time to read them. I think you’ll find it enlightening of what comedy has become.

Laugh? I thought I’d never start. And I didnt.
No doubt this collection of hilarious ‘comedians’ will be appearing on suitably dire tv programmes some time soon. (Taskmaster? 8 out of 10 cats? Songs of Praise?)

MSN

Nominated by Cuntstable Cuntbubble.

60 thoughts on “What passes for comedy

  1. Have to agree with your analysis CC, not funny, might raise a short chuckle if the listener is half pissed but when I’m half pissed I’d chuckle at a car crash.

  2. Now that all the tiresome ‘jokes’ about Brexit, Trump, Boris etc have run their course there’s nothing left. It’s a comedy vacuum.

    Utterly abysmal.

  3. woman goes to the doctors complaining of stomach cramps
    So the doctor examines her and does some tests and says “you’re going to have to looking forward to the idea of long sleepless nights full of crying and changing napies”
    “Why? Am I Pregnant?”
    “no” the doctor replies, you’ve got bowel cancer”.

    The Edinburgh fringe is a humour vacuum.
    Dont go there if you want a laugh.
    Bunch of fuckin students.

    Comedy was massive circa 1989-91.
    Comedians selling out massive arenas.
    Then came woke.
    Comedy is dead.

    • Saw Rik (RIP) and Ade doing the Bottom Live show four times.
      Also saw The League of Gentlemen and Reeves and Mortimer.

      Only one I didn’t like was Peter Kay. Load of bollocks. All that ‘Big Light’ and ‘Garlic Bread’ shite. Stuff northern people say every day, but it isn’t remotely funny. I also think Kay is a bullshitter. His ‘joke’ about his gran calling the musical Chicago ‘Chick-A-Go’, The world and his dog knows how to pronounce Chicago. Also – as joke’s go – it’s shit.

  4. Pakistani wanders up to him and says ‘Good Morning please, be wanting to come into heaven thankyou’
    ‘Look mate’, says St. Peter ‘It doesn’t work that way, you’re a muslim, aren’t you’
    ‘Yes, being a good muslim thankyou’
    ‘No mate, look I’m sorry. You just can’t come in, you’re off down there’
    ‘am GOOD muslim. Wanting to be coming in please’
    ‘You can’t be a good muslim, how?’
    ‘But AM GOOD muslim. I am even giving things to charity all the time’
    St. Peter sighs. ‘Like what?’
    The Pakistani stands up proudly. ‘Only last week, am giving twenty pounds to the children in need’
    St. Peter considers him for a second, and finally resigns himself to the fact that this chap deserves a bit of his time. ‘Right, fine, okay” he sighs, “You win. I’ll go and have a word with God, wait here’

    So off he trots wearily through the Pearly Gates, and returns a couple of hours later. He walks back up to the Pakistani, and says ‘Right, I’ve had a chat with God about you, and it’s all sorted.’
    ‘Here’s your twenty quid back, now Fuck Off’.

    • Little Tommy woke up Christmas morning full of happiness … he loved Christmas. He went downstairs as fast as he could… and started unwrapping his presents … he got …

      A Playstation 5, an Xbox X Series , A Nintendo Switch 2 and loads of games for them.

      A remote control car, a remote control boat, a remote control plane, a remote controlled helicopter.

      A dartboard and new darts, a professional snooker cue, a catchers mitt and baseball bat, and a leather football signed by his favourite team.

      A new iphone, a laptop and the latest VR headset.

      A top of the range Raleigh mountain bike, a skateboard, loads of designer clothes and hundreds of pounds in cash from all his aunts uncles etc.

      He dressed in some of his designer clothes and went out on his new bike. A bit down the road he met little Johnny kicking a plastic football in the air.

      ‘Hi Johnny Happy Christmas’, he said. ‘What did you get?’

      ‘Hi, Tommy. I got this lovely football and a selection box. What did YOU get?’, said little Johnny.

      ‘Well… I got A Playstation 5, an Xbox X Series , A Nintendo Switch 2 and loads of games for them … a remote control car, a remote control boat, a remote control plane, a remote controlled helicopter, a dartboard and darts, a catchers mitt and baseball bat, a professional snooker cue, and a leather football signed by my favourite team…. a new iphone, a laptop and the latest VR headset, a top of the range Raleigh mountain bike, a skateboard, loads of designer clothes and nearly a thousand pounds in cash from all my relatives’.

      Little Johnny picked up his plastic football and held it under his arm and said …

      ‘God … you’re lucky Tommy …. I wish *I* had leukemia ….

  5. The comedy giants of yesteryear would be turning in their graves. To name but a few: of the Kings of Comedy that had us all rolling in the aisles, literally: Tommy Trinder, Arthur Askey, Jack Douglas, Charles Hawtry, Bernie Winters, Freddie ‘Parrot Face’ Davies…

    Good morning, everyone.

  6. I’d have liked to have seen these ‘comedians’ on the front row in front of Bernard at his club….now that would have been 😂…’bloke walks into the fringe and thought he’d gone to hell’. ….ho ho

  7. fucking Roy Castle was a cunt, for the following reasons.

    1, when he was at the swan centre leatherhead, he chucked peanut brittles into the audience and I didn’t get one.

    2, After his death his family were instrumental in the smoking ban, which has fucked my life up even more.

    he has damaged me more than Jimmy Savile could have done,( who I never had the misfortune to meet).

  8. The current bunch of twats don’t want to be seen as funny, as we use the term, they want to be seen as being clever. Clever can be funny, but funny can’t be clever, and yes there is a difference. As for that twat Tim Keyes, “Oh I’m a poet” . No your not, now fuck off.
    Mornin’ all

  9. Billy Connolly used to tell a joke about someone burying a cadaver face down with the bum exposed so he could park his bike.

    One of today’s so-called comedians should update it to Quare Rodney’s Cabinet needing somewhere to relieve their pent-up desires.

  10. Not a joke or anything, but – genuinely – yesterday the Google A.I. genuinely appeared to almost chastise me. I can feel a fucking tone in the reply I got from it to a simple enquiry; … to the point I took a copy.

    Word for word, here’s what it said, all punctuation came from it. :

    No, Larry Grayson was not a “doughnut puncher.” The term “doughnut puncher” is a derogatory and offensive slang term, and there is no evidence to suggest Larry Grayson ever engaged in such behavior.

    ***

    The humourless cunt!

    • “Oohh, shut that door Isla”.

      For his overt campness, I thought that Larry was great on the stand up. He wiped the floor with that pea-scoop chinned cunt Forsyth on presenting the Generation Game.

      • Les Dawson hosting Blankety Blank, and NONE of the rest of them, show or host, for me after that.

        “We’re not going to send you home with nothing …. we’re going to send you home with something even worse…. a Blankety Blank chequebook and pen” .

  11. Before he was a left wing twat, Frankie Boyle used to be funny.
    On a live show, he said “I see Katie Price and Peter Andre are fighting over the custody of Harvey. Although, at some point, one of them will lose and have to keep him!”
    Brutal!

    • Yes indeed. Frankie, Frankie, Frankie. Tut tut. Such a fall from grace.

      He also said Price was only going out with that cage fighter cunt at the time, to protect her from Harvey ‘whenever he started trying to mount her’ ….

      • I can only imagine someone must’ve committed suicide after an over the top ribbing he gave to some soft cunt.

  12. I remember going to the Embassy Club in Manchester for the Works Outing as they call them up north and had the pleasure of having the the piss taken out of me by Bernard Manning. Due to being quiet slim at the time, he came out with the classic of seeing more meat on a jockeys whip. Two of my work colleagues who had big noses, were told if they stood back to back, they’d look like a pick axe.

    • I also sat at the bar with Bernard at the interval talking football, with he being City and me United, we had a good laugh. This was in the sixties, when we could laugh at anything. Then in the second part took the piss again about me living in a tiny Shit hole of a town called Heywood and it was shut at the time he visited it.

      • Due to watching BM on the Wheeltappers and Shunters each week on TPTV. I think to myself, that bloke shouted out my full name to everyone in the club. Can you imagine the rumpus now.

  13. p.s. I changed the ask words from doughnut puncher to felch gargler instead and it stopped replying to me altogether(good!, never wanted a fucking circuit-boards opinion ever ; just facts to queries pondered … )

    AI is uber fucking woke. What have we got? Couple more years?

  14. I thought the Swindon one wasn’t bad for a one line joke.

    The fringe only allow nice jokes, anything remotely funny would be cancelled.

  15. ‘There’s a black fella, a Pakistani and a Jew in a night club… What a fine example of an integrated community’.

    Bernard Righton 1995
    (as played by the great John Thompson)

    As for Edinburgh Fringe, it’s where humour goes to die these days.

    Morning all.

  16. I’ve already mentioned on here when living in London in the nineties, I had the pleasure off going to see Bill Hicks, not long before he died and remember seeing the miserable faces of the crowd outside having to wait in the rain for hours. Bill always went overtime by the odd hour or two.

  17. I see that Jewish acts have been told they aren’t welcome this year, for ‘safety reasons’.
    Which tells you all you need to know about this leftie wankfest.
    The only ‘safety’ they’re concerned about is that everyone is safely on the same side politically.
    If we had a conservative government, you’d be guaranteed that list would have quite a few anti tory jibes, but I bet you wouldn’t hear a single one liner about Starmer and his cronies now we’ve got a Labour one.
    Much like the alternative’ comedy movement in the 80’s, all seems well until there’s no officially approved bogey man or woman in power to have a pop at.
    Just ask Ben Elton. His stand up career ended the day Thatcher resigned, and he had to resort to writing novels.
    I guess most of this modern lot will have to resort to working at McDonald’s. If they’ll take them.

    • was in edinburgh at the weekend visiting our youngest and he hates the fucking fringe and it seems every third window had a fucking palestinian flag in it, the local coffee shop was selling palestinian cola instead of coke or pepsi and we drove past the palestinian museum that has appeared. came to the conclusion that there is a huge percentage of deluded fuckwits in edinburgh supporting these vile cunts. young WCmcF who feels as i do asked with a grin if i wanted to go in the museum and i said only if youve got a petrol bomb you can give me.

  18. Here’s a couple of old ones;

    The Jewish Kamikazi pilot who crashed his plane in his brothers scrapyard.

    Old Mc.Donald had dyslexia, oieia.

  19. There was a prize competition at this year’d Northumberland County Show. You had to answer a simple question on a slip of paper, and the winner was the first correct entry drawn out of the hat.

    The question was ‘Can you think of a 5-letter palindrome beginning with K?’
    I just couldn’t think of anything. It was very frustrating because I really fancied the prize which was a kayak.

    • Harry, he never tries to answer a question ‘cos he’s a politician. I think it’s more appropriate to phrase it as watching him trying (and usually succeeding) in avoiding answering a question. Even the simplest question requiring just a yes or no answer gets the verbal diarrhea non-reply equivalent of saying it depends what you mean by yes and no. All politicians do it but Starmer, being a ‘ooman rights lawyer, just takes it up a notch or two to verbal dysentery levels

  20. A man is out driving in the countryside at night along B roads in an area he doesn’t know at all.

    The engine starts spluttering and cuts out and he comes to a stop in the arsehole of nowhere. He pops the bonnet and has a look by torchlight, fiddling at this and that but is stumped. Then a voice says ‘Did you check the spark plugs?’

    Guy looks around startled but there’s no-one around. There’s a black horse in the field nearest where he stopped, and a white horse visible in the distance but no sign of anybody. He thinks maybe he imagined it and trys turning the key. Engine rattles but it won’t turn over. He looks under the bonnet again.

    “I think its the the spark plugs”

    “Who said that?” says yer man.

    ”Me” said the black horse standing maybe ten foot back in the field ; it’s a moonless night and quite dark.. “check for dirt on a spark plug. Just pull those HT leads off them there and have a look”.

    Guy thinks he’s hallucinating but pulls the leads anyways. There’s some grit on one of the plugs do he clears that off, refits the leads tries the key and voilà.

    “Thought so”, sez the horse. Guy puts the boot down and fucks off out of there in complete shock. A couple of miles further on theres a country pub so he parks and goes in.

    “Large whiskey”. Barman obliges ; Guy knocks it back. “Same again”.

    Barman says “I hope you don’t mind me saying so but you’re deathly pale”.

    “My car broke down a few miles back the way and I was looking at the engine and a voice said ”check the spark plugs” .. and it WAS the spark plugs but there was no-one around .. just a horse.

    Big black horse, was it? asks the bartender. That’d be ould Mick’s stallion. He’s very friendly, ..and helpful.

    “For fuck’s sake horses can’t talk” the driver retorts.

    Oh, some horse CAN talk, can’t they lads? the Barman says to his regulars.

    Assorted ayes and yeahs.

    Car guy is thinking now these cunts are taking the piss. He’s full sure one of their friends was out maybe hunting rabbits or something and did the horse thing then rang ahead to the pub to tell them in CASE the guy went in.

    The barman says … “it’s cold out there tonight, you wouldn’t want to be walking miles in that .. and you’re lucky you stopped where you did on the straight and not further back where ould Micks other horse – a white one – grazes where the road gets bendy.

    “Oh why, asks the driver sarcastically, .. can the white horse not talk?”

    “No, no .. it can” sez the Barman…. ”it just doesn’t know anything about engines”.

    There you go if you kept going til the end – there’s, what?, about two minutes of your remaining life I wasted for ya!

    And fucking ten of my own. 😃

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