From Jules (who is galavanting around in the USA pretending she’s working):
Here are my Funny Friday editions for daring to be so lackadaisical last week and not submitting any quality memes. This week I have decided to take my own pictures and a closer look at what you Americans buy and do whilst I hunker down in Texas. I think it is only fair for me to raise questions about your fodder and lifestyle choices since you find it admissible (not mentioning any names, Terry and ’Nox) to scorn the delicacies of the Great Empire…
Let’s see, shall we?
Well first off, I think we’re on the same page here and off to a good start. It seems that “Puffs” are despicable in any size. Congrats to the marketing department on this passive-aggressive, subliminal advertising message. Not to be sneezed at.
However, it seems the rainbow clan has a way of putting you off ice -cream or cookies for life by conjuring up thoughts of those intent on playing the chocolate cha-cha.
I don’t know why, but the above makes me think of guns so off I went to the Gebo’s where I saw this sign.
Having spent a long time in Texas I wouldn’t have thought the likes of the Texan Alpha Male would need his wife’s permission for anything – I’m just going on the evidence of what I’ve witnessed in this awesome state…
Ding Dong! Hostess with the mostest. This makes me think of Kenneth Williams in “Carry On Camping” and the sort of food I’d expect to find at a dodgy, suburban “Throw your car keys in the middle of the table” house party. Not that I’ve ever frequented such an event but I have a vivid imagination.
I don’t want to point out the obvious but it’s clear that I have to. Elbows? Well doesn’t that sound appetising… See, the rest of the world (including the Italians who invented them) call this macaroni. I know that Americans know this since “Mac ’n’ Cheese” is your staple go to and on every single restaurant menu. So Why are you calling them elbows? Ridiculous.
But then if you’re going to eat this kind of nonsense below then I give up. We feed these to our dogs.
Far be it from me to try and make sense of the bastardised American – English lexicon although I do try my best. I think I got the gist of what this particular shop sign writer was trying to say, though, something tells me he was already half cut on a couple of bottles of this cheap plonk before he got down to business.
And then he went to fill up his car….mistake…
I dunno, maybe his “FRENS” dropped in.
And on a lighter note, here’s a nice pony.
From I.R. Wayright:
A guy traveling through Mexico on vacation lost his wallet and all of his identification. Cutting his trip short, he attempted to make his way home
but was stopped by the U..S. Customs Agent at the border.
” May I see your identification, please?” asked the agent.
“I’m sorry, but I lost my wallet,” replied the guy. “Sure buddy, I hear that every day No ID, no entry,” said the agent.
“But I can prove I’m an American!” he exclaimed. “I have a picture of Donald Trump tattooed on one side of my butt and George Bush on the other.”
“This I gotta see,” replied the agent. With that, the guy dropped his pants and showed the agent his behind.”
By golly, you’re right!” exclaimed the agent.
“Have a safe trip back to Chicago.”
“Thanks!” he said. “But how did you know I was from Chicago?
“The agent replied, “I recognized Obama in the middle.
From Buck (aka CaptBogus):
Have a great Friday and a Happy Halloween.