The Kiwi's will love this!!!!

Once upon a time in the Kingdom of Heaven, God went missing for Six days. Eventually, Michael the Archangel found him, resting on the seventh day. He inquired of God, "Where have you been?"

God sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction and proudly pointed downwards through the clouds, "Look Michael, look what I've made." Archangel Michael looked puzzled and said, "What is it?"

"It's a planet, replied God, "and I've put LIFE on it. I'm going to call it Earth and it's going to be a great place of balance".

"Balance?" inquired Michael, still confused.

God explained, pointing to different parts of Earth.

"For example, Northern Europe will be a place of great opportunity and wealth while Southern Europe is going to be poor; the Middle East over there will be a hot spot."

"Over there I've placed a continent of white people and over there is a continent of black people" God continued, pointing to different countries. "And over there, I call this place America.

North America will be rich and powerful and cold, while South America will be poor, and hot and friendly. And the little spot in the middle is Central America which is a Hot spot. Can you see the balance?"

"Yes" said the Archangel, impressed by Gods work, then he pointed to a smallish land mass and asked, "What's that one?"


"Ah" said God. "That's New Zealand, the most glorious place on Earth. There are beautiful mountains, rainforests, rivers, streams and an exquisite coast line. The people are good looking, intelligent and humorous and they're going to be found traveling the world. They'll be extremely sociable, hard-working and high-achieving, and they will be known throughout the world as diplomats and carriers of peace. I'm also going to give them super- human, undefeatable, strong in character citizens who will be admired and feared by all who come across them".

Michael gasped in wonder and admiration but then exclaimed, "You said there will be BALANCE!"

God replied wisely. "Wait until you see the buggers I'm putting next to them"

Hi 88888888

EXCELLENT!! Had this Kiwi chuckling.........

Be interesting to see if the 'Buggers' come to the foreground on this one!

Katz

I'll have a crack because I am one Katz!!!

New Preamble to the Australian Constitution

WE, the People of the broad, brown land of Oz, wish to be recognized as a free nation of blokes, sheilas and the occasional trannie.

We come from many lands (although a few too many of us come from New Zealand) and, although we live in the best little country in the world, we reserve the right to ***** and moan about it whenever we bloody like.

We are One Nation but we're divided into many States.

First, there's Victoria, named after a queen who didn't believe in lesbians. Victoria is the realm of Mossimo turtlenecks, cafe latte and grand final day. Its capital is Melbourne, whose chief marketing pitch is that it's "liveable".

Next, there's NSW. It is the realm of pastel shorts, macchiato with sugar, thin books read quickly and millions of dancing gay-boys. Its mascots are Bondi lifesavers who pull their Speedos up their cracks to keep the left and right sides of their brains separate.

Down south we have Tasmania, a State based on the notion that the family that bonks together stays together. In Tassie, everyone gets an extra chromosome at conception. Maps of the State bring smiles to the sternest faces.

South Australia is the province of half-decent reds, a festival of foreigners and bizarre axe murders. They had the Grand Prix, but lost it when the views of Adelaide sent the Formula One drivers to sleep at the wheel.

Western Australia is too far from anywhere to be relevant in this document.

The Northern Territory is the red heart of our land. Outback plains, sheep stations, kangaroos, jackaroos, emus, Ulurus and dusty kids with big smiles. Although the Territory is the centrepiece of our national culture, few of us live there and the rest prefer to fly over it on our way to Bali.

And there's Queensland. While any mention of God seems silly in a document defining a nation of half-arsed agnostics, it is worth noting that God probably made Queensland. Why he filled it with ****heads remains a mystery.

We, the Lullaby League of Oz, are united, primarily by the Pacific Highway, whose treacherous twists and turns kill more of us each year than die by murder.

We are united in our lust for international recognition, so desperate for praise we leap in joy when a ragtag gaggle of corrupt IOC officials tells us Sydney is better than Beijing.

We are united by a democracy so flawed that a political party, albeit a redneck gun-toting one, can get a million votes and still not win one seat in Federal Parliament. Desirable, sure. But fair? Not when you consider Brian Harradine can get 24,000 votes and runs the bloody country. Not that we're whingeing.

We've chucked out the concept of "fair go" in the downsized '90s. Instead, we want to make "no worries" our national phrase.

We love sport so much our newsreaders can read the death toll from a sailing race and still tell us who's winning, in the same breath.

We treasure our politicians, who talk about listening with such persistence it's hard to get a word in. We tolerate our Prime Minister, who is not only short but a Methodist, hanging offences in decent countries. And we like watching Parliament on TV because Natasha Stott Despoja is a total spunkrat.

We, the wicked witches of the land of Oz, want to make it clear this continent is ours and always has been. Mind you, Liberal Party polling shows that there were some people here before Captain Cook so we should address the issue once and for all.

While possession is nine-tenths of the law, our ancestors were fortunate enough to discover that genocide, cultural extinguishment, baby theft and flour poisoning make up the other tenth.

So Oz is now ours and that's that. Our midget Methodist master says we have no reason to feel sorry for killing more Aborigines per capita than the Nazis did Jews and Liberal Party polling says we're OK with that.

Why don't we say sorry? In the words of our PM - because, because, because, because, because. Now, can we just drop the whole thing before the footy finals start?

Phew, with that nasty bit out of the way, we the Brain, the Heart and the Nerve of Oz, want the world to know we have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies and the worst-dressed Olympians in the known universe.

We don't know much about art but we know we hate the people who make it. We shoot, we vote. We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime. And even though we might seem a racist, closed-minded, sports-obsessed little People, at least we're better than the Kiwis.

Now bugger off, we're sleeping.

Hi 88888888

Well done! Excellent come back, you have this one reeling and the abs are having a good work out. A bonus! lol

Katz

Two Aussies are adrift in a lifeboat. While rummaging through the boat's provisions one of them finds an old lamp. He rubs the lamp and a genie suddenly appears. This genie tells them that he only grants one wish.

Without giving much thought to the matter, the lamp finder blurts out, "Turn the entire ocean into VB!"

The genie claps his hands with a deafening crash, and immediately the entire sea turns into beer.

The genie disappears and only the gentle lapping of beer on the hull breaks the stillness as the two men considered their circumstances.

The second Aussie turns to the first and says, "Nice going mate! Now we're going to have to piss in the boat."

An Australian tour guide was showing a group of American tourists the Top End. On their way to Kakadu he was describing the abilities of the Australian Aborigine to track man or beast over land, through the air, under the sea. The Americans were incredulous.

Then later in the day, the tour rounded a bend on the highway and discovered, lying in the middle of the road, an Aborigine. He had one ear pressed to the white line whilst his left leg was held high in the air. The tour stopped and the guide and the tourists gathered around the prostrate Aborigine.

“Jacky,” said the tour guide, “what are you tracking and what are you listening for?”

The aborigine replied, “Down the road about 25 miles is a 1971 Valiant ute. It’s red. The left front tyre is bald. The front end is out of whack and it has dents in every panel. There are 9 fellows in the back, all drinking warm VB. There are 3 kangaroos on the roof rack and 6 dogs on the front seat.”

The American tourists moved forward, astounded by this precise and detailed knowledge.

“Goddammit man, how do you know all that?” asked one.

The Aborigine replied, ”I fell out of the bloody thing about half an hour ago.”

The little country store had sawdust on the floor and smelt of freshly ground coffee. The scrubbed pine counter contained jars of boiled lollies, boxes of beeswax candles and a shiny bacon slicer. It was the middle of World War II and there was a shortage of commodities. So you had to have your ration coupons.

A domineering local woman walked into the store and began placing an order with the shop assistant. “I would like three pounds of butter, a bottle of kerosene, four pound of potatoes and two pounds of brown Spanish onions – to be delivered by lunchtime.”

The assistant wrote the order in the book but, on reaching the last item, said, “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but we have no brown Spanish onions, for the time being.”

“Course, you have,” said the woman glaring indignantly. “I know you keep some under the counter for favoured customers. I insist on having some of those.”

The stand-off continued until the manager made an appearance. “Good morning, madam. What seems to be the trouble?”

“I have asked for brown Spanish onions and have been told there are none. But I know you keep some for special customers and would like some. If you please!”

“Madam,” said the manager, “You are an intelligent woman. May I ask you a few simple questions?”

“Certainly”

“Take the word PARSNIP, madam. Without the ‘p’ and the ‘nip’, what have we left?”

The lady replied, “ARS.”

“Yes,” said the manager. “Now, without the first four letters of the word BEETROOT, what remains?”

“ROOT, of course.”

“Very good,” said the manager. “Now, onto the final question. Take the FUGG out of ONIONS and what do we have?”

The woman frowned at him and said, “But there is no FUGG in ONIONS.”

“Quite right,” said the manager. “That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you for the last ten minutes.”

Hi 88888888

After receiving some sad news, I have thoroughly enjoyed releasing tention through reading your jokes. Bless you, it's what I really needed today, Thanks!


Katz

Originally Posted by Katz Eyez

Hi 88888888

After receiving some sad news, I have thoroughly enjoyed releasing tention through reading your jokes. Bless you, it's what I really needed today, Thanks!


Katz

No worries Katz,

they make me laugh and if only one other gets a bit of enjoyment then that's all good.

A lot of new Australians live in Fortitude Valley, Brisbane. A Chinaman had a fruit and vegie shop. Every Friday his neighbour, A Greek bloke with a snack bar, used to pass his shop on the way to bank his takings and he always called out, “What day is it Chinaman?”

The Chinaman always replied, “Flyday, you Gleek plick.”

“Not Flyday you dozey bastard, F-r-r-ri-day. Why don’t you learn to talk English proper?”

So, the Chinaman practised all week. The next Friday, the Greek called out as usual, “What day is it Chinaman?”

“F-r-r-ri-day, you Gleek plick”.