Soft Drink and Prizes

A little boy from Queensland was crazy about Coke. 

One day he got a prize.

One of the lids said he got a prize. 

He went to the depot to pick it up. 

It was a huge huge, really huge, box. 

He had to open it. 

He carried it in the bus and everyone kept on starring at it. 

He got home and his relatives all watched him unpacking: The first huge box was gone. 

Now there was a slightly smaller box. 

Everyone wanted to know what would come after this one.

He then unpacked. 

One more box was gone but there was an even smaller box inside of that one. 

He kept on unpacking. 

Another box appeared. 

Unpacked. 

Another one. 

He was now by the fifth box. 

Still unpacking. 

From size of a microwave's box to the size of a socks' box. 

Still unpacking. 

Tenth box. 

Now it came one that looked like a ring's box. 

It was the last box: Size of a ring. 

He opens it.

Nothing is inside of the box but a sentence. 

The sentence: Next time drink Fanta. 

Laugh a bit, please

Tell Us Later

Norman May had died. 

A certain writer wanted to write a text with the following heading: Norman May Is Now Past. 

Someone quickly said: Tell us that in June because otherwise we may not understand. 

Laugh a bit, please

When the Person Gets the Blessings of God Because of Their Name

A guy was called Paul Norbury but, in the USA, everyone was used to call him Norbury. Some said Dr. Norbury. Others said Norbury. 

Someday a woman from South America who was suffering extraordinary crimes, true atrocities, for one decade and a half heard, as she was passing by the reception desk, this after once more trying Norbury for help:

- So, what is her problem?

- True atrocities, several years; poor thing. 

Nobody wants to help. 

- It is a good thing that Norbury will help her then. May God bless him!

Laugh a bit, please

Jolie and the Unnoticed Release of Unwanted Gas

It was a social gathering in ancient style...

All dressed accordingly: carrying walking sticks that they didn't actually need when they were men and wearing corsets with the objective of constraining obesity to bearable levels when they were women. 

The background music was what nowadays we use in funerals. 


A maid went around offering liquor. 

Spectacles that cover only one eye and hang from chains of gold were seen everywhere. 

A dog of style, of those whose bodies make waves, so elegant, of really long legs and spine, is relaxing under the chair of this really fat man, who is perhaps a relative of the KFC Colonel (KFC man). 




Politeness levels are so extreme that conversations sound like murmur. 

All of a sudden, a noise, a very loud noise, is heard. 



Everyone seems to direct their eyes to where the KFC man is. 



He quickly responds to their interest by turning to the dog and saying: Jolie, get out of there, Jolie! Go for a walk. 

Jolie is not his dog.

Ten minutes pass and the KFC man gets the attention of all once more, the turning of eyes happen again, and he again says: Oh, oh, Jolie, please go for a walk. I don't understand why you are still there. 



Jolie looked at him, understood, but did not comply. 

Thirty minutes pass.



The scene repeats.



This time, before the KFC man releases the token that is directed to Jolie, her owner intervenes: Jolie, get out of there immediately before this man releases his excrement over you! 

(This time Jolie moved and she then ran away)

Laugh a bit, please

Knock Knock

A man asked me: Marcia, how can I know if I am dealing with a female prostitute or not? 

I answered: You knock at her head. If you hear an echo, then you are. 

Laugh a bit, please

Daddy Always Can

So, my father, The General, took me to the ice skating rink for the first time. 

We both dressed the special skates and went to the rectangle.

I was extremely reticent and yellow of fear. 

My father looked at me as if he did not know me. 

He took that position of it is all routine and went, so that I am realistically watching a man who is more than twice my age going around with confidence while I support myself on the rail with all my forces. 

I am like not even two meters skated when my father is completing his first round trip; his first full ellipsis over the ice. 

I am thinking that this is going to be traumatizing for me, since I am not really going to be able to evolve much from what I am currently doing. 

That is when I hear the thunder: I look and my dad is belly up, completely flat on the ice, body all open to the sky, as if he were in a cross, and with legs wide open. 

It was such a noise that I could swear the place was exploding. 

I could not yell or anything because he was looking exactly the same, like same expression on the face and all. 

My daddy was a tough man: That rink he could take sip by sip. 

I am perplexed watching and curious about what is still going to happen.

I find it weird that everyone else seems to think like me and nobody is actually moving to help him. 

I think I mumbled something; not sure. 

That is when daddy gets up as if nothing had happened, his 1.80 m of height, his body with all that hair that he always had, to the point of having to trim the nostrils, and starts skating again with exactly the same facial expression of every minute he had been there for that far. 

And there daddy goes again, I thought. 

And I was still hanging on to the rail in panic, now a bit more than before. 

Not even two minutes pass and thunder again. 

I cannot tell how it felt because, sincerely, I cannot connect to it, like I really don't remember. 

Again, daddy was flat, belly up, his eyes of frog wide open, and starring at the roof, his body in cross, legs open; all the same. 

Again everyone reacts in the same way. 

Again dad raises in exactly the same way and I am already thinking, what in a hell we are doing here, like one of us should know what to do. 

I finally found somebody to help me learn something and I was then starting to rehearse some steps without the rail but with the help of the lad's arm when thunder happened again: Oh, my God! 

I thought that that time daddy was gone forever: It would not be possible to raise a third time, to have fallen in exactly the same position, as all the previous times, in exactly the same way, having it all happening in exactly the same way in general, and then raise. 

Notwithstanding, not to be believed, daddy did raise again in exactly the same way. 

I took daddy home after that one: One of us had to take the lead and put things in order there...

Laugh a bit, please

Little John Lost His Ball

Little John screams: D A A D Ddy! Da aad dy! 

The theater lights go on after some five minutes of people listening to his screams. 

Little John's Dad: Oh, Jesus, why me?

The guardian comes around: So, what is your problem, little boy?

Little John: I lost my ball. 

The guardian: Oh, OK. Perhaps we will all look for your ball, so that you can keep on watching the movie with us, right?

Little John's Dad: You see, everyone stopped watching the movie to look for your ball. Are you happy now?

The guardian: We have now been looking for a while, but nobody has found your ball. How does it look like?

Little John's Dad: In fact, I do not recall having arrived here with any ball. How does it look like, Little John?

Little John: Never mind. (Puts his index finger inside of his nostril) I will make another! 

Laugh a bit, Please