This received in an email today... hopefully not a repost - no time to search
The scene is set: A dark night, cold wind blowing, campfire flickering,
stars twinkling in the dark sky.
Three hang-glider pilots sitting by the campfire, one from Australia,
one from South Africa and one from New Zealand, each embroiled in the
bravado for which they are famous.
The night of tales begins . . .
Terry, the Aussie says, "I must be the meanest, toughest, hang glider thereis.
"Why, just the other day I landed in a field and sceered a crocodeale,
who came out of the swamp and ate six min who were standen close by. I
grebbed the crocodeale and wristled him to du ground and killed em with
my beer hends."
Ilan from South Africa who typically can't stand to be bettered said:
"Well you guys, I lended orfter a 200 mile flight in my heng glider on a
tiny trail, and a Namibian snake slid out from under a rock and made a
move on me. I grabbed de boosted with me bare hinds and beet it's head
off and then sucked the poison from it's body down in one gulp. End I'm
still here today"
Kevin the Kiwi remained silent, slowly poking the fire with his penis.
Reply With Quote
Bookmarks