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Little Brucie was in his junior school class when the teacher asked the children what their fathers did for a living. All the typical answers came up;-
Fireman, policeman, salesman, politician; Brucie was being uncharacteristically quiet and so the teacher asked him about his father.
"My father's an exotic dancer in a gay club and takes off all his clothes in front of other men. Sometimes, if the offer's really good, he'll go out with a man, rent a cheap room and let them shag him."
The teacher hurriedly set the other children to work on some colouring and then took Little Brucie aside.
She asked him, "Is that really true about your father?"
"No," said Brucie, "My father plays rugby for the Waratahs, but I was just too embarrassed to say".
Four surgeons are taking a coffee break. The first one says, "Accountants are the best to operate on because when you open them up everything inside them is numbered." The second surgeon says, "Nah, librarians are the best; everything inside them is in alphabetical order." Third surgeon says, "Try electricians. Everything inside them is colour-coded." The fourth one says, "I prefer Waratah rugby players. They're heartless, spineless, gutless and their heads and arses are interchangeable."
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