Tag Archives: pub

1428. Grumpy Earl

When Earl went out to his shed to get his set of screwdrivers to do a job there was a screwdriver missing. That put him in a grumpy mood.

“Where did you put my screwdriver?” he asked his wife.

“I didn’t touch them,” she said.

That was typical. She always claimed she never touched his stuff and she always had. She never returned things back to their right place.

“I’m off to the pub for a while,” he grumbled.

As he got in his car he sat on the missing screw driver. Then he remembered.

It put him in a worse mood than before.

1316. Murdered wives

Harold had just finished cleaning up his murdered wife’s blood when the phone rang.

It was his good friend, Arnie. Did Harold want to go to the pub that evening? Arnie’s wife had just left on an extended vacation and he was free as a bird. Harold said he was free as a bird too. His wife had also just gone on an extended vacation.

Good friends don’t have to explain much. Both intuitively knew what the other had done. Both got roaring drunk. No one in the pub believed their cock and bull stories about murdering their wives. In fact both so embellished their narratives that the whole pub was in stitches.

But the next day was no fun, I can tell you. Try getting rid of a couple of bodies when you’ve got one hell of a hangover.

1216. No sense of humour

Jocelyn prided herself with having green fingers. She had a lovely garden; lush and full of flowers! Everyone she led up the garden path couldn’t but help admire her garden.

But now she had to move to town for work. There simply weren’t enough clients in the countryside. An apartment was rented three stories up and with a little balcony. The balcony had a panoramic view of the back of a takeaway place and a seedy pub. Yet Jocelyn managed to make her little balcony a thing of beauty. Three lovely geranium plants in pots; one flowered white, one flowered red, and one flowered crimson. Everyone she led out to her balcony couldn’t but help admire her geraniums. There was no word to describe them other than “gorgeous”.

Then one evening a good-for-nothing from the seedy pub, whom Jocelyn had invited up for a good time, pissed on the geraniums and kicked them over the edge. It was a joke. Some people have no sense of humour.

1194. Pub corner

Yeah. Well. I was sitting unobtrusively in the corner of this pub having a think and having a quiet drink and smoking a cigarette which I had just taken up again after eleven years off them. And this guy comes up to me and says, hey, have you ever thought of doing something useful with your life?

And I say, yeah, like what?

And he says, I dunno. Get married and have kids and do something useful, instead of smoking and drinking on your own in a corner.

And I say I’ve got a wife and kids already.

And he says, well how come they’re not here or at least your wife? She might enjoy a night out.

So I stood up and socked him the biggest punch on his jaw I could muster. He fell down and I kicked him in the crotch and left.

Some people don’t know how to mind their fucking business.

983. A bit of pub gossip


Nora: My word, it’s getting cold these day. Winter has certainly arrived.

Mavis: The first snow always starts about now. What a downfall last night!

Nora: We’ve had the fire going for over a month now.

Mavis: My husband keeps looking through the window. I tell you, if the weather keeps up like this I’ll have to let him in.

Listen to the story being read HERE!

877. The bathroom was cleaned


(This is my attempt to use a phrase in the passive voice! Grammar was never my strong point!)

It’s terrible. There was blood from one end of the bathroom to the other. Rosina’s body was on the floor. The rest of us had gone to the pub for the evening and left Rosina home because she had a chemistry assignment to finish as part of her university papers.

Rosina was a bit of a nerd. She never took part in any of the fun the rest of us students had. We would get most of the academic stuff out of the way by the weekend, so we could party. I admit, there were some recreational drugs, but it was pretty harmless. Rosina had threatened to report us, but she never did.

This weekend we were all at the pub except for Rosina who stayed in the shared student apartment to do her chemistry paper. The body was found when we got home.

Anyway, the bathroom was cleaned. Rosina was put in the chest freezer for a bit until people sobered up.

To listen to the story being read click HERE!

586. In the pub

© Bruce Goodman 19 May 2015


Yeah, well, I was sitting in the pub at a table over by the window with some mates, and this really old guy, about sixty I reckon, is walking around with a cardboard box and collecting the rubbish from the tables. Then he comes back and collects empty glasses, and wipes the tables. But the thing is, his trousers are halfway down his backside and you can see his crack.

And he keeps pulling his trousers us a bit with his spare hand, but by the time he starts putting stuff into the cardboard box with both hands the trousers slip down again and you can see his crack.

“That’s one hell of a huge crack you got there mate,” I said.

“What is it to you?” he said.

“Nothing,” I said. “I just said you got one big fucking crack.”

“Well it’s none of your business,” said the old man. “If you don’t like it, look the other way.”

“No need to go ape-shit at me,” I said. “I just said you got a big crack. Don’t you think,” I said to my mates at the table, “don’t you think he’s got a huge fucking crack?”

Anyway, I’m writing this from my hospital bed where I’ve got a broken nose and they’ve wired up my jaw.