The husband leans over and asks his wife, “Do you remember the first time we had sex together over fifty years ago? We went behind the village tavern where you leaned against the back fence and I made love to you.”
Yes, she says, “I remember it well.”
OK, he says, “How about taking a stroll around there again and we can do it for old time’s sake?”
“Oh Jim, you old devil, that sounds like a crazy, but good idea!”
A police officer sitting in the next booth heard their conversation and, having a chuckle to himself, he thinks to himself, I’ve got to see these two old-timers having sex against a fence. I’ll just keep an eye on them so there’s no trouble. So he follows them.
The elderly couple walks haltingly along, leaning on each other for support aided by walking sticks.
Finally, they get to the back of the tavern and make their way to the fence The old lady lifts her skirt and the old man drops his trousers. As she leans against the fence, the old man moves in… Then suddenly they erupt into the most furious sex that the policeman has ever seen. This goes on for about ten minutes while both are making loud noises and moaning and screaming. Finally, they both collapse, panting on the ground.
The policeman is amazed. He thinks he has learned something about life and old age that he didn’t know.
After about half an hour of lying on the ground recovering, the old couple struggle to their feet and put their clothes back on. The policeman, is still watching and thinks to himself, this is truly amazing, I’ve got to ask them what their secret is.
So, as the couple passes, he says to them, “Excuse me, but that was something else. You must’ve had a fantastic sex life together. Is there some sort of secret to this?”
Shaking, the old man is barely able to reply,
“Well, fifty years ago, that wasn’t an electric fence.”
I don’t know why, but I automatically thought of Lord and Lady Slowlane…
I’ve had cold sores since I was a 3 year old back in Tudor times. So it was me Neanderthal ancestors but Lady Slowlane is too snooty to have had one. 
A man was getting a haircut prior to a trip to Rome.
He mentioned the trip to the barber, who responded, “Why would anyone want to go there?
It’s crowded and dirty and full of Italians. You’re crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?”
“We’re taking United,” was the reply. “We got a great rate!”
“United!” exclaimed the barber.
“That’s a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly and they’re always late. So, where are you staying in Rome?”
“We’ll be at the downtown International Marriott.”
“That dump! That’s the worst hotel in Rome. The rooms are small, the service is surly and they’re overpriced. So, whatcha doing when you get there?”
“We’re going to go to see the Vatican and we hope to see the Pope.”
“That’s rich,” laughed the barber. “You and a million other people trying to see him. He’ll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You’re going to need it!”
A month later, the man again came in for his regular haircut. The barber asked him about his trip to Rome.
“It was wonderful,” explained the man. “Not only were we on time in one of United’s brand new planes, but it was overbooked and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a beautiful young stewardess who waited on me hand and foot. And the hotel! Well, it was great! They’d just finished a $25 million remodeling job and now it’s the finest hotel in the city. They were overbooked too, so they apologized and gave us the presidential suite at no extra charge!”
“Well,” muttered the barber. “I know you didn’t get to see the Pope.”
“Actually, we were quite lucky, for as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I’d be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked in. As I knelt down he spoke to me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Where’d you get this lousy haircut?” 
FFS Phil
Could you please put these in the “Joke” thread that exists, so as I can ignore them in future.
I’ve banned him from that.
Yes, so it may be a naff old joke, but the great John Cooper Clarke shows that it really is how you tell 'em.
Fowllyd, have you read Clarkey’s recent new collection? “The Luckiest Guy Alive”, I strongly recommend it. All new poetry, including an updated version of Beasley Street, which has now morphed into Beasley Boulevard.
I didn’t think I should “like” that post but I’m ashamed to say I laughed at the comment. 
I did hesitate briefly before posting it, to be fair 
That’s alright then. 