keats and chapman

mayordenis

there was a period where chapman was out of work and a friend kindly gave him the an option on two performing bears. Chapman purchased the bears and decided to tour the country, keats decided to goin him.
Keats though, was altogether petrified by the bears. On the evening before a show Chapman got very ill and couldnt go on with thew show and pleaded with Keats to take his place. eventually he persuaded him.
after the show had started chapman dragged himself out of bed to see how keats was doing.
when he got to the show he was horrified to fing keats injecting the two bears who were seemingly lifeless.
he quickly rushed to keats and asked him what on earth he was doing keats replied
"there is safety in numb-bears"


Flann O' Brien = legend.

Chinafoot

words fail me

Big Ears

:eek:

segadreamcast

What the hell?

GET OFF THE INTERNET AND GET THEE TO A COMEDY CLUB!*

*-Sorry.

mayordenis

it seems ive waisted the genius od flann.

RE*AC*TOR

ROLFLMAO!!!!!
You can't beat a bit of Flann!

UnrealQueen

Im lost.

pork99

Keats and Chapman were taking the air downtown one afternoon when they spotted, coming in the opposite direction, a local alcoholic well-known for his predilection for sleeping in a fully-fitted funeral pyre, complete with kindling and oil. Keats waited until the man had passed and said to Chapman:

"Did you see our friend?"

"Yes," replied Chapman, with some trepidation.

"A terrible man for his bier"

pork99

Keats was presented with an Irish terrier, which he humorously named Byrne. One day the beast strayed from the house and failed to return at night. Everyone was distressed, save Keats himself. He reached reflectively for his violin, a fairly passable timber of the Stradivarius feciture, and was soon at work with chin and jaw.

Chapman, looking in for an after-supper pipe, was astonished at the poet's composure, and did not hesitate to say so. Keats smiled (in a way that was rather lovely).

"And why should I not fiddle," he asked, "while Byrne roams?"

mayordenis

on one occasion chapman purchased a canine as he believed them to be great companions. that day the animal chased chapman up a tree, the dog sat at the base of the tree not allowing chapman down.

keats arrived and announced that dogs are very reliable he said "a good dog, will never let you down"

smoke.me.a.kipper

jesus.

MrNuked

I remember reading somewhere how people with a certain type of brain find puns like these really funny.
Bizarre.

kmart6

*cough*crap 'jokes'*cough*

RE*AC*TOR

my old english teacher would be in a knot on the floor.

*cough*if ya don't like 'em'*cough*
*cough*go read another joke about how women are different from men*cough*

c'mon lads - give us another few price numbers.

mayordenis

When Keats was practising as a dentist a somewhat nervous patient called to have two teeth extracted. Keats assured him that it would not be safe to use local anaesthetic owing to the extent of suppuration. The patient did bot like the idea of a general anaesthetic. He enquired what it was proposed to put him to sleep with.
"I will give you three gases" Keats said.

mayordenis

Keats once met a man called Dunne and invited him to dinner. It happened the Dunne was a hefty, well-nourished party who usually ordered his steaks in pairs and spent at least two hours at the table every time he visited it. He accepted the poet's invitation and was thunderstruck to find himself faced with a mess of green herbs, with damn the thing else to relieve the green greenness of it all.
"What's this?" he asked rudely
"An experiment with thyme," Keats said

Thumper Long

*cough-cough* possible sex offenders *cough-cough*

RE*AC*TOR

Thumper Long wrote:

*cough-cough* possible sex offenders *cough-cough*

are you high or something?
Christ almighty this is one of Ireland's greatest writers...

segadreamcast

Flann O'Brien was presented with a pass for a comedy club. He brought himself along, to witness what passed for modern humour in the world.

...There's no joke here - this is just a scenario which I hope befalls this excruciatingly unfunny man with his horribly two-dimensional characters and their dreadful puns.

RE*AC*TOR

NoelRock wrote:

Flann O'Brien was presented with a pass for a comedy club. He brought himself along, to witness what passed for modern humour in the world.

...There's no joke here - this is just a scenario which I hope befalls this excruciatingly unfunny man with his horribly two-dimensional characters and their dreadful puns.

Well its unf*cking likely - him being dead.

The Gaelic
Excerpt from 'Irish and Related Matters'- 'The Best of Myles'

Cur, g. curtha and cuirthe, m. - act of putting, sending, sowing, raining discussing, burying, vomiting, hammering into the ground, throwing through the air, rejecting, shooting, the setting or clamp in a rick of turf, selling,addressing, the crown of cast iron buttons which have been made bright by contact with cliff faces, the stench of congealing badgers suet, the luminence of glue-lice, a noise made in a house by an unauthorised person, a heron's boil, a leprachauns denture, a sheep biscuit, the act of inflating hare's offal with a bicycle pump, a leak in a spirit level, the whine of a sewage farm windmill, a corncrakes clapper, the scum on the eye of a senile ram, a dustmans dumpling, a beetles ****, the act of loading ever rift with ore, a dumb man's curse, a blasket, a 'kur', a fiddlers occupational disease, a fairy godmothers father, a hawks vertigo, the art of predicting past events, a wooden coat, a custard-mincer, a blue-bottles 'farm', a gravy flask, a timber-mine, a toy craw, a porridge mill, a fair day donnybrook with nothing barred, a stoats stomach-pump, a broken-

Pork99 / mayordenis :- anymore?

mayordenis

yeah there is plenty more re*ac*tor good to see someone who appreciate possibly the finest irish comedy writer.

when the poet Keats was a lad he was undecided as to his ultimate profession, and spent a few years in business as a potato factor. One day a French noblewoman who wason holiday in the vicinity ordered a ton of Arran banners. When Keats was delivering the potatoes he was attacked by a ferocious pom, which the lady kept as a pet. The poet presented the pom with the father and the mother of a fair-day kick, and carried on quietly with his work.
"When i make up my mind to deliver spuds" he remarked afterwards to chapman, "I have no intention of letting the pomm de terre me" Chapman took no notice.

RE*AC*TOR

please sir, can I have some more?