A white horse walked
into a bar and ordered a drink. ‘Blimey,’ said the barman, ‘a talking horse. Do
you know they named a whisky after you?’ ‘What,’ said the horse, ‘Kevin?’
I told that joke to the woman in the pet shop last week. She
didn’t laugh, she just said: ‘I had a hamster called Kevin.’ ‘OK,’ I said, ‘a
hamster walked into a bar…’ Only it couldn’t work, of course, because – as far
as I know – there isn’t a whisky called Hamster.
So I tried to explain to myself why the white-horse-called-Kevin
joke is my favourite, and attempted a variation:
The Duke of Wellington walked into a
bar and ordered a drink. ‘Blimey,’ said the barman, a talking duke. Do you know
they named a style of gumboot after you?’ ‘What,’ said the Duke, ‘Arthur?’
It isn’t quite the same, is it? So I decided to get clever
and came up with:
A girl called Madeline
walked into a café and ordered a scone. ‘Blimey,’ said the proprietor, ‘a
talking Madeline. Do you know they named a confection after you?’ ‘What,’ said
the Madeline, ‘fruit cake?’
But only Madelines who know they’re mad would get it, so I
suppose the original will have to remain unchallenged.
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