A guy calls his mate, the horse rancher, and says he's sending a friend over to look at a horse.
His mate asks, 'How will I recognise him?'
'That's easy; he's a midget with a speech impediment.'
So, the midget shows up, and the guy asks him if he's looking for a male or female horse.
'A female horth.'
So he shows him a prized filly.
'Nithe lookin horth. Can I thee her eyeth'?
So the guy picks up the midget and he gives the horse's eyes the once over.
'Nithe eyeth, can I thee her earzth’?
So he picks the little fella up again, and shows him the horse's ears.
'Nithe earzth, can I see her mouf'?
The rancher is getting pretty ticked off by this point, but he picks him up again and shows him the horse’s mouth.
'Nithe mouf, can I see her twot'?
Totally mad as fire at this point, the rancher grabs him under his arms and rams the midget's head as far as he can up the horse's cnut, pulls him out and slams him on the ground.

The midget gets up, sputtering and coughing. 'Perhapth I should rephrase that. 'Can I thee her wun awound a widdlebit.
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