For all those who are on their own this bank holiday, because they’re going through a difficult divorce, because they don’t have custody, or simply because they forgot to get married in the first place, my dear friend E has sent this little joke. Actually, I think it’s one of those rather-unfair-but-still-very-funny ones, and I’d normally have more than a few qualms about repeating it (but E, don’t let that stop you sending me lots more along the same lines – I love them!). For God’s sake, though, it’s a bank holiday, and we divorced people need all the chuckles we can get. We simply can’t afford to care whose expense they’re at. So, with no further ado:
Cherie Blair is touring the countryside in a chauffeur-driven car. Suddenly, a cow jumps out into the road; they hit it full on and the car comes to a stop. Cherie, in her usual manner, says to the chauffeur:
‘You get out and check – you were driving.’
The chauffeur gets out, checks and reports that the animal is dead.
‘You were driving; go and tell the farmer,’ says Cherie.
Five hours later, the chauffeur returns totally plastered, hair ruffled with a big grin on his face.
‘My God, what happened to you?’ asks Cherie.
The chauffeur replies: ‘When I got there, the farmer opened his best bottle of malt whisky, the wife gave me a slap-up meal and the daughter made love to me.’
‘What on earth did you say?’ asks Cherie.
‘I knocked on the door and when it was answered, I said to them: ‘ I’m Cherie Blair’s chauffeur and I’ve just killed the cow.’