Laugh through rough trough (no dough hiccough)

•Goronwy Gruffydd was walking his farm when he came across a man drinking from a pond.  “Paid ac yfed yna!” Goronwy called, “Mae’n lle’r gwartheg yn cachu!”   “I’m sorry, I don’t understand, ” responded the man, “I’m English.”  “I was just saying drink as much as you like,” replied Goronwy.

•A man went to his psychiatrist, lay down on the couch, composed himself and said “I’m profoundly unhappy, totally alienated and have lost all hope.  Every day is torment, death seems preferable to life and I have continual suicidal thoughts.  In fact, I want to throw myself out of that window.”  “Hmm,” said the shrink after a long pause, “You’re profoundly unhappy, totally alienated and have lost all hope.  For you, every day is torment and death seems preferable to life.  You are suicidal and want to throw yourself out of my 7th-floor office window.”  At this, the patient got up from the couch, went to the window, climbed out onto the ledge and jumped, hitting the street far below and dying instantaneously.   The psychiatrist slowly rose from his chair, went over to the window, glanced down at the scene and said “Splatt!”

•An Irishman in Cardiff for the rugby went to Dorothy’s in Caroline Street and ordered chicken curry off-the-bone with half rice, half chips.  A bit pissed, he decided to ‘eat in’ at one of the slimy tables.  “Where’s me fork ‘n’ knife?” he called out.  “Under your fucking plate,” replied the bloke at the deep-fat fryer, without missing a beat.

•SCENE: WOMAN WITH SHOPPING BASKET ENTERS BUTCHERS.  Woman: “I’d like a long spicy sausage, a bit of tongue, ham shank and a goose please”  Butcher: “Will you be wanting stuffing?”  W: “Yes. Offal. You do mince, don’t you?”  B: “Well live and let live dear”  W: “Any beef?”  B: “Yeah, me Mrs don’t understand me” W: “Have you got pigs’ trotters?”  B: “No sweetheart, ingrowing toenails”  W: “Those are nice blue corduroy trousers you’re wearing under your butcher’s apron, I must say”  B: “I’m in shorts, those are my varicose veins”  W: “Is that a Polish salami I see?”  B: “I do beg your pardon, me catheter seems to have slipped”  W: “How about best rump?”  B: “I’ve only got scrag end”  W: “Well I’d better go to the bakers now; I need a cream horn, a fondant finger and some fruity trifles, and I must remember to get my oats”  B: “Choux tart?” W: “OK, I’m going; a quick visit to the candlestickmakers and I’m done”  B: “What do you want there?”  W: “Wax”