London Jokes

What to Do With All Those "Free" Soaps When Travelling This is some correspondence which actually occurred between a London hotel's staff and one of its guests. The London hotel involved submitted this to the Sunday Times. No name was mentioned. Dear Maid, Please do not leave any more of those little bars of soap in my bathroom since I have brought my own bath-sized Dial. Please remove the six unopened little bars from the shelf under the medicine chest and another three in the shower soap dish. They are in my way. Thank you, S. Berman ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Room 635, I am not your regular maid. She will be back tomorrow, Thursday, from her day off. I took the 3 hotel soaps out of the shower soap dish as you requested. The 6 bars on your shelf I took out of your way and put on top of your Kleenex dispenser in case you should change your mind. This leaves only the 3 bars I left today which my instructions from the more...

If Ida Lupino married George Wendt, then divorced him to marry Ted Danson, divorced him to marry Alan Alda, then divorced him to marry Ted Knight, and divorced him to marry Shelly Long, she'd be Ida Wendt Danson Alda Knight Long.
If Whoopi Goldberg married Peter Cushing, she'd be Whoopi Cushing.
If Swoosie Kurtz married Patrick Swayze, she'd be Swoosie Swayze.
If Flip Wilson married Les Aucoin, he'd be Flip Aucoin.
If Barbara Hershey married John Candy, divorced him to marry Roseanne Barr, she'd be Barbara Hershey Candy Barr.
If Julie Emry married Jeff Gillooly, divorced him to marry Darlene Hooley, then divorced her to marry Wes Cooley, she'd be Julie Gillooly Hooley Cooley.
If Ivana Trump married Neil Diamond, divorced him to marry Jack Nicklaus, then divorced him to marry John Darling, she'd be Ivana Diamond Nicklaus Darling.
If Julie London married Beau Bridges, divorced him and married composer Manuel de Falla, then married Hugh Downs, she'd be Julie more...

Here is a story about a famous food critic's recent visit to Europe last summer. He had a delightful time sampling the cuisine in Italy, France and Germany, but he made the mistake of stopping off in London on the way home.
Needless to say, he found English food bland and overcooked. However, one day he had a great meal of fish & chips at a London pub. He asked the manager of the pub if he could have the recipe for the fish and chips.
The manager confessed that he bought his fish and chips from a nearby monastery, and so our critic would have to get the recipe from one of the brothers.
So he quickly ran down the street to the monastery and knocked on the door. When one of the brothers came to the door, he asked him if he were the "Fish Friar." The brother repiled, "Nope, I'm the Chip Monk!"

This wind-up article appeared recently in an American magazine. It was taken seriously by a lot of people...

MONEY
The Brits have peculiar words for many things. Money is referred to as "goolies" in slang, so you should for instance say "I'd love to come to the pub but I haven't got any goolies." "Quid" is the modern word for what was once called a "shilling" - the equivalent of seventeen cents American.

MAKING FRIENDS
If you are fond of someone, you should tell him he is a "great tosser"- he will be touched. The English are a notoriously tactile, demonstrative people, and if you want to fit in you should hold hands with your acquaintances and tossers when you walk down the street.

CUSTOMS
Since their Labour government whole heartedly embraced full union with Europe the Brits have been attempting to adopt certain continental customs, such as the large midday meal followed by a two or more...

A cabbie is driving by the Empire State Building
one day when he's flagged down by a fellow with a neat
moustache, wearing a bowler hat and carrying an umbrella.
The fellow gets into the cab.
"Where to?" asks the cabbie.
"Trafalgar Square, if you please," replies the fare
in a clipped English public-school accent.
The cabbie doesn't bat an eyelash. "That's
fifty-percent extra for out-of-town trips," he says, "and
ya gotta pay all tolls an' ferry fares."
"Very well," replies the English gentleman, and so
off they go. The cabbie drives to Kennedy International,
arranges the trip to London, and drives his cab into the
hold of a huge auto-transport plane. All the way across
the Atlantic they fly, the meter running all the while.
(Fifteen cents per sixty seconds not in motion, you know.)
When they arrive at Heathrow they disembark, and the cabbie
drives to Trafalgar more...