Green Banana.

Vlad The Impaler

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GREEN BANANA

This bloke is working on the buses and collecting tickets. He rings the
bell for the driver to set off when there's a woman half getting on the
bus.
The driver sets off, the woman falls from the bus and is killed. At the
trial the bloke is sent down for murder and seeing as it's Texas
he's sent to the electric chair. On the day of his execution he's sat in
the
chair and the executioner grants him a final wish.

"Well" says the man, "is that your packed lunch over there?"
"Yes" answers the executioner.
"Can I have that green banana?" the man asks.
The executioner gives the man his green banana and waits until he's
eaten it.
When the man's finished, the executioner flips the switch sending
hundreds of thousands of volts through the man.

When the smoke clears the man is still alive. The executioner can't
believe it. "Can I go?" the man asks. "I suppose so" says the
executioner, "that's never happened before."

The man leaves and eventually gets his job back on the buses selling
tickets. Again he rings the bell for the driver to go when people are
still getting on. A man falls under the wheels and is killed. The bloke
is sent down for murder again and sent to the electric chair.

The executioner is determined to do it right this time so he rigs the
chair up to the electric supply for the whole of Texas. The bloke is
again sat in the chair.

"What is your final wish?" asks the executioner.
"Can I have that green banana in your packed lunch?" says the condemned
man.

The executioner sighs and reluctantly gives up his banana. The bloke
eats the banana all up and the executioner flips the switch. Millions of
volts course through the chair blacking out Texas. When the smoke clears
the man is still there smiling in the chair. The executioner can't
believe it and lets the man go.

Well, would you believe, the bloke gets his job back on the buses. Once
again he rings the bell whilst passengers are still getting on, this
time killing three of them. He is sent to the electric chair again.

The executioner rigs up all the electricity in America to the chair,
determined to get his man this time. The man sits down in the chair
smiling.

"What's your final wish?" asks the executioner.
"Well" says the man, "Can I have that green banana out of your packed
lunch?"
The executioner hands over his banana and the man eats it all, skin
included.
The executioner then pulls the handle and a zillion million trillion
volts go through the chair.

When the smoke rises the man is still sat there alive without even a
burn mark.
"I give up" says the executioner, "I don't understand. How you can still
be alive after all that?"

He stroked his chin. "It's something to do with that green banana isn't
it?"
he asked.

"Nahh" said the bloke,".....I'm just a really bad conductor."
 

Vlad The Impaler

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For all you non-brits out there. In the UK, some buses have a driver and a ticket collector. This collector is known as a bus conductor. Ho ho!
 

flagreen

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OMG that's worst joke I've heard in a while. Can't wait to pass it on!
 

Prof.Wizard

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Vlad, you know what they say about British humour... :roll:
(personally I like it... but... truth to be told...)
 

Howell

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Good Joke! It was a little odd reading about the Texas bus having multiple employees; one of which tells the bus driver when it's time to go.

For every bus I've ever been on, ingress is only allowed at the drivers door and you must pay there.
 

Mercutio

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Texas and Florida really don't deserve to be states. Florida for obvious, election related reasons. Texas for, well, if you've spent time around a Texan you'll understand.

On the other hand, the US has a couple of lovely tropical islands that are protectorates. Samoa. Puerto Rico. Pleasant places. Places that I would be proud to say are part of my nation. Unlike Texas.

I say we give Texas back to Mexico, Florida back to Spain (or whatever Indian tribe might want it, whatever), and to keep the proper numbers of stars on our flag, we grant Samoa and Puerto Rico statehood.

And as long as we're getting rid of states, I think we could trade in one quasi-theocracy-in-the-middle-of-the-desert for another. I say we swap Utah for Iraq. We're obviously getting a better deal on that one, what with all the oil and religious tolerance they have over there in Baghdad.
 

fool

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A friend of the family with dual nationality once told me that Texas was to rest of the US as Yorkshire is to the rest of the UK.

With that in mind,

"never ask someone if there from Yorkshire. If they are they will have already told you, if their not , you'll only offend them"

can't remember who I'm quoting. :oops:
 

EdwardK

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Mercutio said:
....And as long as we're getting rid of states, I think we could trade in one quasi-theocracy-in-the-middle-of-the-desert for another. I say we swap Utah for Iraq. We're obviously getting a better deal on that one, what with all the oil and religious tolerance they have over there in Baghdad.

Aww, can you wait until we have finished testing them people from Utah before you kick them out? Like finding the gene(s) for causing albino :wink:
 

Prof.Wizard

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fool said:
never ask someone if there from Yorkshire. If they are they will have already told you, if their not , you'll only offend them"
Please tell me more. :)
I know already much about Texans, but dudes from Yorkshire? I thought Scots were the black sheeps in Britain...
 

Tannin

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Texas = Yorkshire = Queensland, maybe.


Did you hear about when Australia had a referendum to decide if Queensland should become a seperate nation? Unfortunately, the majority of Queenslanders voted "no" - but the rest of the country voted "Yes"!


PS: apologies to Queenslanders: the days when Queensland was the laughing stock of the nation are long gone, and Queenslanders are wonderful people. Western Australians, however, are another matter .....
 

Prof.Wizard

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Tannin said:
Texas = Yorkshire = Queensland, maybe.
This equation is becoming quite interesting...
May I add?
= Quebec (Canada)
= Catalonia (Spain)
= Crete (Greece)
= Sardegna (Italy)

All of the above are considered rather "different" in respect to the nation/country they belong.

Can you add more?!
 

Mercutio

Fatwah on Western Digital
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There's an odd thing about Southerners. Germans pick on Bavarians. Americans pick on everyone who lost the civil war (and why is it that the people in those police ride-along shows who stand on their lawns in stained T-shirts, brandishing shotguns all have thick southern accents, even when they're filming in Minneapolis?). Texans pick on Mexicans. Canadians, who are all southerners anyway, pick on NewFoundlanders.
 

fool

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Oh yes, the lad Clarkson is very Yorkshire, (although at this point I feel I should mention that a significant portion of my family is from Lancashire).


To sum Yorkshire up, Geoffrey Boycott.
For those amongst you who don’t follow cricket, If you met someone who was brash, self satisfied, opinionated, boorish, smug an above all firmly convinced that Heaven was where you went when you couldn’t get in to Yorkshire, then you met a true Yorkshireman.
 

Vlad The Impaler

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This is the best description of gentlemen from Yorkshire.

Monty Python's Flying Circus -
"Four Yorkshiremen"

The Scene:
Four well-dressed men are sitting together at a vacation resort.
'Farewell to Thee' is played in the background on Hawaiian guitar.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
Aye, very passable, that, very passable bit of risotto.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
Nothing like a good glass of Château de Chasselas, eh, Josiah?
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
You're right there, Obadiah.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
Who'd have thought thirty year ago we'd all be sittin' here drinking Château de Chasselas, eh?
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
In them days we was glad to have the price of a cup o' tea.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
A cup o' cold tea.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
Without milk or sugar.
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
Or tea.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
In a cracked cup, an' all.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
Oh, we never had a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled up newspaper.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
The best we could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth.
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
Because we were poor. My old Dad used to say to me, "Money doesn't buy you happiness, son".
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
Aye, 'e was right.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
Aye, 'e was.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
I was happier then and I had nothin'. We used to live in this tiny old house with great big holes in the roof.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
House! You were lucky to live in a house! We used to live in one room, all twenty-six of us, no furniture, 'alf the floor was missing, and we were all 'uddled together in one corner for fear of falling.
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
Eh, you were lucky to have a room! We used to have to live in t' corridor!
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
Oh, we used to dream of livin' in a corridor! Would ha' been a palace to us. We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish tip. We got woke up every morning by having a load of rotting fish dumped all over us! House? Huh.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
Well, when I say 'house' it was only a hole in the ground covered by a sheet of tarpaulin, but it was a house to us.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
We were evicted from our 'ole in the ground; we 'ad to go and live in a lake.
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
You were lucky to have a lake! There were a hundred and fifty of us living in t' shoebox in t' middle o' road.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
Cardboard box?
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
Aye.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
You were lucky. We lived for three months in a paper bag in a septic tank. We used to have to get up at six in the morning, clean the paper bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down t' mill, fourteen hours a day, week-in week-out, for sixpence a week, and when we got home our Dad would thrash us to sleep wi' his belt.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
Luxury. We used to have to get out of the lake at six o'clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of 'ot gravel, work twenty hour day at mill for tuppence a month, come home, and Dad would thrash us to sleep with a broken bottle, if we were lucky!
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
Well, of course, we had it tough. We used to 'ave to get up out of shoebox at twelve o'clock at night and lick road clean wit' tongue. We had two bits of cold gravel, worked twenty-four hours a day at mill for sixpence every four years, and when we got home our Dad would slice us in two wit' bread knife.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night half an hour before I went to bed, drink a cup of sulphuric acid, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad and our mother would kill us and dance about on our graves singing Hallelujah.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
And you try and tell the young people of today that ..... they won't believe you.
ALL:
They won't!
 
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