Old Jokes Resurrected

My colleague Steve passed me this gem. I present it to you without further comment.

Barack Obama is visiting a Glasgow hospital.

He enters a ward full of patients with no obvious sign of injury or illness,

He greets one.

The patient replies:

Fair fa your honest sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin race,
Aboon them a ye take yer place,
Painch, tripe or thairm,
As langs my airm.


Obama is confused, so he just grins and moves on to the next patient.


The next patient responds:

Some hae meat an canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat an we can eat,
So let the Lord be thankit.


Even more confused, and his grin now rictus-like, the President moves on to the next patient, who immediately begins to chant:


Wee sleekit, cowerin, timorous beasty,
O the panic in thy breasty,
Thou needna start awa sae hastie,
Wi bickering brattle



Now seriously troubled, Obama turns to the accompanying doctor and asks,
'Is this a psychiatric ward?'

'No,' replies the doctor, 'this is the serious Burns unit.'

No laughing matter (unless the jokes improve)

I'm utterly indifferent to the passing of Michael Jackson, beyond the human sympathy for an individual dying young. My initial thought was that he seemed perfectly healthy on Radio 4 the other day, discussing the Iraq war inquiry. Turns out that it's another Michael Jackson who died.

However, because I'm interested in the way and the speed at which people generate humour, you're invited to leave your jokes here. I have no comment to make about quality.

I was sent the first at 8 a.m. BST, from Zoot Horn:

Jackson's last words: 'Treat me in the children's ward'.

The second and third came an hour or so later:

Emma:

What do Alex Ferguson and Michael Jackson have in common? Neither will be playing Gig(g)s this August.

And finally from my sister:

Police have drawn up some suspects. They're not sure who to blame it on. Will it be the sunshine?, the moonlight?, the good times? or their number one suspect, ....the boogie