DOG FOR SALE
A guy is driving around the back woods of Southern Scotland when he sees a sign in front of a rather bedraggled looking farmhouse: 'Talking Dog For Sale.'
He drives on a bit until curiosity finally gets the better of him and he returns to the farmhouse. He rings the bell and the owner appears and tells him the dog is in the backyard. The guy goes into the backyard and sees a nice looking Labrador retriever sitting there.
"Do you talk?” he asks.
“Yep,” the Lab replies.
After the guy recovers from the shock of hearing a dog talk, he says “So, what’s your story?”
The Lab looks up and says, 'Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was just a pup. I thought I could put my talent to good use by working for the government, so I made contact with military intelligence. In no time at all they had me jetting from country to country working for MI6, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping. Every time my guy left to use the facilities, I'd be picking up the juicy stuff they didn't want him to hear. I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years running but the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting any younger, so I decided to settle down. I signed up for a job at Glasgow Airport to do some undercover work with the Customs officers, standing 20-30 feet away from the desk and picking up all sorts of revealing information. I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded a batch of medals. After a while, even that became a bit tiring so I chucked it in, got married, had a load of puppies, and now I'm just retired.”
The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog.
“Ten pounds,” the guy says.
“A tenner? This dog is amazing! Why on earth are you selling him so cheaply?”
“Because he's a fucking liar. He never did any of that shit.”
And his relative, the duck.
A Duck walks into a pub and orders a pint of bitter and a ham sandwich.
The barman looks at him and says, 'But you're a duck'.
'I see your eyes are working', replies the duck.
'And you talk!' exclaims the barman.
'I see your ears are working', says the duck, 'Now can I have my beer and my sandwich please?'
'Certainly', says the barman, 'sorry about that, it's just we don't get many ducks in this pub. What are you doing round this way?'
'I'm working on the building site across the road', explains the duck.
Then the duck drinks his beer, eats his sandwich and leaves.
This continues for 2 weeks. Then one day the circus comes to town.
The Ringmaster of the circus comes into the pub and the barman says to him, 'You're with the circus aren't you? I know this duck that would be just brilliant in your circus, he talks, drinks beer and everything!'.
'Sounds marvelous', says the ringmaster, 'get him to give me a call'.
So the next day when the duck comes into the pub the barman says, 'Hey Mr.Duck, I reckon I can line you up with a top job, paying really good money!'
'Yeah?' says the duck, 'Sounds great, where is it?'
'At the circus', says the barman.
'The circus?' the duck enquires.
'That's right', replies the barman.
'The circus?' the duck asks again.
'Yes' says the barman
'That place with the big tent?' the duck enquires.
'Yeah' the barman replies.
'With all the animals?' the duck questioned.
'Of Course' the barman replies.
'With the big canvas roof with the hole in the middle', asks the duck.
'That's right!' says the barman.
The duck looks confused.
'What the f * ck would they want with a plasterer?'