An Australian Army Recruit sends home a letter . . .

Dear Mum & Dad,

I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers William and James that the Army is better than workin’ on the farm – tell them to get in quick smart before the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settling down at first, because ya don’t hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I like sleeping in now, cuz all ya gotta do before brekky is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack – nothin’!! Ya haz gotta shower though, but its not so bad, coz there’s lotsa hot water and even a light to see what ya doing!

At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there’s no kangaroo steaks or possum stew like wot Mum makes. You don’t get fed again until noon and by that time all the city boys are dead because we’ve been on a ’route march’ – geez its only just like walking to the windmill in the back paddock!!

This one will kill me brothers William and James with laughter. I keep getting medals for shootin’ – dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a possum’s bum and it don’t move and it’s not firing back at ya like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target! You don’t even load your own cartridges, they comes in little boxes, and ya don’t have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you reload!

Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy – it’s not like fighting with William and James and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home after the muster.

Turns out I’m not a bad boxer either and it looks like I’m the best the platoon’s got, and I’ve only been beaten by this one bloke from the Engineers – he’s 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pick handles across the shoulders and as ya know I’m only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin’ wet, but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off to the boozer.

I can’t complain about the Army – tell the boys to get in quick before word gets around how good it is.
Your loving daughter,
Sheila

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Three Europeans went to America when they all get captured by Native Americans who want to kill them. The Europeans beg to have their lives spared. The Native Americans agreed to not kill them on one condition: the Europeans must go into the forest and bring back a fruit and they will be informed what to do with it.

So the first guy comes back with a peach. The Native Americans say “Shove it up your ass, if you laugh we kill you.” So, he shoves the peach up his ass and he laughs so the Native Americans kill him.

The second guy comes back with a grape. The Native Americans tell him the same thing. He laughs and the Native Americans kill him. They both see each other in heaven and the first guy says to the second guy, “I had a peach and peaches are fuzzy, I’m ticklish and thats why I laughed, but you had a grape, what happened?” The second guy says, “Oh yeah, I was doing just fine until I saw the other guy come back with a pineapple!”

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A Private in the Marines was on guard duty one night and sitting in the wooden hut at the barrier, waiting for his turn to go out on patrol.

The phone rings, and he answers, and is suddenly confronted with a loud voice, demanding of him “are there any officers still at the officer’s mess hall?”.

He looks at the officer’s car park, and replies “no, I think it’s just that fat drunken prick, General Smith. That’s the only car still here, anyway”.

“WHAAAAT?!!! Do you know who you’re talking to???!!?”, the voice bellows.
“Errr… No, I do not”, the private replies.

‘This IS General Smith!”, the telephone voice shouts.

Considering his options, the private asks “Well, General, do you know who YOU’RE talking to?”.
The general, somewhat taken aback, says “no, I don’t know or care who I’m talking to!”.
“Well then, fuck you, you fat, miserable alcoholic cunt”, the Private replies, and hangs up the call.

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A lady goes to her priest one day and confesses “Father, I have a problem. I have two female parrots, but they only know how to say one thing.” What do they say?” the priest inquires curiously. The woman blushes as she explains that the two female birds repeat the same phrase over and over: “Hi, we’re prostitutes. Do you want to have some fun?” That’s obscene!” the priest exclaims.

After a few moments of deliberation, however, he offers a solution. “You know,” he says, “I have two male parrots, very devout birds, whom I have taught to pray and read the Bible. Bring your female parrots to my house, and we’ll put them in the cage with Francis and Job. My parrots can teach your parrots to praise and worship and speak in a more appropriate manner.” “Thank you,” the woman responds, “this may very well be the solution.”

The next day, she brings her two female parrots to the priest’s house. As he ushers her in, she sees his two male parrots inside their cage, holding Rosary beads and praying. Impressed, she walks over and places her parrots in with them. After a few minutes, the female birds cry out in unison: “Hi, we’re prostitutes. Do you want to have some fun?” There is a stunned silence. Finally, one male parrot looks over at the other male parrot and exclaims, “Put the beads away, Francis, our prayers have been answered!

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