I tried that thing today at the petrol station where you try and stop the pump bang on what you want to pay, but let it go a fraction too late and it stopped on £20.03.
"Bollocks!" I shouted and walked into the shop to pay.
"Unlucky, mate," smiled the attendant, who'd seen what I'd done. "Don't worry about the extra."
"Cheers, mate," I said as I handed him my tenner and fucked off.
"Okay, that'll be 20p," said the cashier as he scanned my Freddo.
"What!?" I shouted. "But it says 10p on the wrapper?"
"Yes, I know it says that on it, but it is actually 20."
"Fine," I said, as I begrudgingly handed him the cash.
"Ummm, excuse me sir," the man slid the coin back across the counter. "You've handed me a ten pence piece."
"Yes, I know it says 10p on it but it is actually 20."
My bank lets me send a text message and it'll text back with my balance.
It's a cool feature but I didn't think the 'LOL' was necessary.
I believe that sex is the most beautiful, natural, and wholesome thing that money can buy.
My mates called me stingy so I decided to buy them a beer.
Turns out they wanted one each.
A golfer is walking down the road carrying his clubs when he sees an Arab being held up at gunpoint. He pulls out a wedge and smashes it over the back of the robber's head, knocking him unconscious.
"You probably saved my life," says the grateful Arab. "I am a member of the Saudi Royal Family and I have the power and money to give you anything you desire as a reward."
The golfer glances at his golf bag.
"Some golf clubs would be nice," he says.
Two weeks later, the Sheikh's secretary calls him up.
"We've got your golf clubs," she says, "but the Sheikh would like to apologise to you in advance: only three of them have swimming pools."
My mate introduced me to a Money Making Scheme that 100% guarantees payout.
It's called a Job.
If I had a pound for every girl that told me I was unattractive, they'd eventually find me attractive.
If I had a pound for everytime I've had sex, I'd probably be a millionaire.
Because then I'd have enough to buy a lottery ticket.
We're so skint that I had to get my wife to sell one of her kidneys to help pay for Christmas.
If things get any worse, I might have to cancel Sky Sports. 70