The politics forum crap joke thread.
- Thread starter emanymton
- Start date
Alright,
Lenin, Stalin and Brezhnev are sharing a compartment on a train. All of a sudden they grind to a halt in the middle of nowhere. A pause.
Lenin: "Leave this to me comrades, I'll go and see what's happening, and we'll be moving again in no time". A short while later he returns.
"I don't understand it, I demonstrated conclusively to the driver and fireman that getting moving was a historical inevitability, but still we stand here".
Stalin steps up: "Aah Vladimir Ilich, surely this is the work of wreckers, but leave it to me, I know how to deal with those". And out he goes.
Shortly after he too returns: "I can't understand it. I had the driver and fireman shot, and all the passengers sent to the GULag, but somehow nothing happened".
Brezhnev then takes his turn: "Ah, but you gentleman fail to appreciate what the people can accomplish under flourishing socialism. Let me show you". Up he stands, but instead of going out he pulls down the blind and sits back down.
Lenin and Stalin: "But Leonid Ilich, how is that going to help us get the train moving?"
Brezhnev: "But it is moving".
Lenin, Stalin and Brezhnev are sharing a compartment on a train. All of a sudden they grind to a halt in the middle of nowhere. A pause.
Lenin: "Leave this to me comrades, I'll go and see what's happening, and we'll be moving again in no time". A short while later he returns.
"I don't understand it, I demonstrated conclusively to the driver and fireman that getting moving was a historical inevitability, but still we stand here".
Stalin steps up: "Aah Vladimir Ilich, surely this is the work of wreckers, but leave it to me, I know how to deal with those". And out he goes.
Shortly after he too returns: "I can't understand it. I had the driver and fireman shot, and all the passengers sent to the GULag, but somehow nothing happened".
Brezhnev then takes his turn: "Ah, but you gentleman fail to appreciate what the people can accomplish under flourishing socialism. Let me show you". Up he stands, but instead of going out he pulls down the blind and sits back down.
Lenin and Stalin: "But Leonid Ilich, how is that going to help us get the train moving?"
Brezhnev: "But it is moving".
kyser_soze
Hawking's Angry Eyebrow
Yeah, who eventualy become the next Tarbuck&Brucie (cf Ben 'How many ways can I sell out today' Elton)
In fairness, this:
is a funny situational joke about Soviet-era Russia. However, since KL's mayoralty wasn't marked by apparatchiks and secret service dissappearing people for saying they weren't happy, it doesn't work. Dfferent situation, see?
In fairness, this:
is a funny situational joke about Soviet-era Russia. However, since KL's mayoralty wasn't marked by apparatchiks and secret service dissappearing people for saying they weren't happy, it doesn't work. Dfferent situation, see?
poster342002
PROPER leftwing socialist
Just as well I'm not a scab, then, eh? I always strike whilst almost the entire workforce does scab. Guess they'll all be squabbling to change the bulb ...
kyser_soze
Hawking's Angry Eyebrow
See, that's nearly funny.
How many New Labour bureaucrats does it take to change a lightbulb?
10 - one to change it, one to record it's been changed for accountabiity, 8 to write a think tank paper on 'Redefining the Change Paradigm for Lightbulbs'
poster342002
PROPER leftwing socialist
it works fine when you consider the barrage from the mayoral office insisting how many improvements had supossedly been made. Thing is - you had to read the silly freesheet otherwise you'd never have noticed them ...
belboid
Exasperated, not angry.
now that is funny!
Aye thats what i meant but i couldn't be arsed to word it properly!
poster342002
PROPER leftwing socialist
Or - they get 30 consultants in at £500 per hour who take ten months to issue a report that says "the lightbulb is broken". They then commission a further report form the consultants to find a solution. After another 10 months on £500 per hour, they issue oen that says "change the bulb". After that, the funds to replace it have run out.
DotCommunist
So many particulars. So many questions.
Actually they probably outsourced the lightbulb change to a faceless corp via a PFI deal
poster342002
PROPER leftwing socialist
Given that I invariably go on strike (even though NOBODY else does), I agree.
Das Uberdog
remembers the alamo
Invariably? Like, what... all the time?
poster342002
PROPER leftwing socialist
Whenever there's a strike. I always go on strike when there's a strike - but just about everyone else (the vast majority) in the org scabs.
Saying that this happens makes me a scab, apparently.
poster342002
PROPER leftwing socialist
that'll explain why I've gone on at exhasperated length about the frustration I feel about all the majority-scabbing, then?
You really need to speak up a bit, too - It's hard to make out what you're saying as the seat of your trousers is muffling the words.
poster342002
PROPER leftwing socialist
And you're not even intelligent (or articulate) enough to post without hurling foulmouthed abuse around.
poster342002
PROPER leftwing socialist
double post
poster342002
PROPER leftwing socialist
So when I rant on here about the majority-scabbing, that's being "polite to scabs" is it?
Make your mind up.
PS: I'd like to see how you would deal with working in a workplace where everyone scabbed. What would you do - be rude to everyone? Becuase that's the dilemma I'm invariably faced with. I go on strike then return to work the next day and have a whole roomful of people (and more) knowing that every last one of them scabbed.
belboid
Exasperated, not angry.
some actual political jokes (other than scab342002)
Three prisoners in the gulag get to talking about why they are there. "I am here because I always got to work five minutes late, and they charged me with sabotage," says the first. "I am here because I kept getting to work five minutes early, and they charged me with spying," says the second. "I am here because I got to work on time every day," says the third, "and they charged me with owning a western watch."
A Georgian delegation comes to visit the Kremlin, they talk to Stalin, and then they go, heading off down the Kremlin's corridors. Stalin starts looking for his pipe. He can't find it. He calls in Beria, the dreaded head of his secret police. "Go after the delegation, and find out which one took my pipe," he says. Beria scuttles off down the corridor. Five minutes later Stalin finds his pipe under a pile of papers. He calls Beria—"Look, I've found my pipe." "It's too late," Beria says, "half the delegation admitted they took your pipe, and the other half died during questioning."
Little David was in his 5th grade class when the teacher asked the children what their fathers did for a living. All the typical answers came up -- fireman, policeman, salesman, doctor, lawyer, etc. David was being uncharacteristically quiet and so he teacher asked him about his father. "My father's an exotic dancer in a gay cabaret and takes off all his clothes in front of other men. Sometimes, if the offer's really good, he'll go out to the alley with some guy and make love with him for money." The teacher, obviously shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other children to work on some exercises and took little David aside to ask him, "Is that really true about your father?" "No," said David, "He works for the Bush administration, but I was too embarrassed to say that in front of the other kids."
Three prisoners in the gulag get to talking about why they are there. "I am here because I always got to work five minutes late, and they charged me with sabotage," says the first. "I am here because I kept getting to work five minutes early, and they charged me with spying," says the second. "I am here because I got to work on time every day," says the third, "and they charged me with owning a western watch."
A Georgian delegation comes to visit the Kremlin, they talk to Stalin, and then they go, heading off down the Kremlin's corridors. Stalin starts looking for his pipe. He can't find it. He calls in Beria, the dreaded head of his secret police. "Go after the delegation, and find out which one took my pipe," he says. Beria scuttles off down the corridor. Five minutes later Stalin finds his pipe under a pile of papers. He calls Beria—"Look, I've found my pipe." "It's too late," Beria says, "half the delegation admitted they took your pipe, and the other half died during questioning."
Little David was in his 5th grade class when the teacher asked the children what their fathers did for a living. All the typical answers came up -- fireman, policeman, salesman, doctor, lawyer, etc. David was being uncharacteristically quiet and so he teacher asked him about his father. "My father's an exotic dancer in a gay cabaret and takes off all his clothes in front of other men. Sometimes, if the offer's really good, he'll go out to the alley with some guy and make love with him for money." The teacher, obviously shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other children to work on some exercises and took little David aside to ask him, "Is that really true about your father?" "No," said David, "He works for the Bush administration, but I was too embarrassed to say that in front of the other kids."
emanymton
A cat politely sat on the flaming gardener.
I reed that train drivers could be sent to the Gulag as wreckers for driving trains too fast and damaging the tracks, the could also be sent as saboteurs if they drove to slowly. Bit of an awkward situation to be in.
Friedrich Engels lived in Manchester with his lover Mary Burns; his house backed onto the famous Manchester Ship Canal. In those days the canal was quite a pleasant spot, with grassy banks, fish and other wildlife including river birds in addition to the river traffic for which it had been built and the river folk who worked it. In other words there were many benefits to such a location, but also a few drawbacks; for example, some of the birds attracted to the canal had a habit of nesting in Engels's loft. Engels was expecting Karl Marx to visit him in Manchester; Marx wanted to get away from the noise and smoke of London and the busy routines of family life in order to concentrate on writing Das Kapital. The night before Marx was due to arrive, the Engels household had accommodated a rather rowdy party to which a number of the barge crews had been invited; as was usual among travelling folk, they came with a variety of musical instruments including several country fiddles, and made music until the small hours. They all crashed out on the bedroom floors, and to make room for so many bodies, Engels told them to stow their instruments in the loft. Marx arrived early next morning in a filthy temper. He'd been travelling all night in low company, had a splitting headache, and was not best pleased to find Engels's house strewn with unfamiliar sleeping bodies. He demanded a large pot of tea, so Engels went off to draw water for the kettle from the tap. But water came there none. Instead, there was a terrible knocking, flapping, and scraping in the loft, where the water cistern was located. Mary rushed upstairs to investigate, and came back shortly looking both embarrassed and amused.
"Well, Mary," asked Engels, "what's the matter? Has the water been cut off?"
"No, dear," Mary replied, "it's the violins and herons in the cistern."
"Well, Mary," asked Engels, "what's the matter? Has the water been cut off?"
"No, dear," Mary replied, "it's the violins and herons in the cistern."
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