A dirty joke from my Dad

My Dad gets on the phone tonight: Jennie. Jennie. I have to tell you this joke. He’s laughing but gasps out: Bertrand told it at the dinner table the other day. And if there is anything my Dad likes (besides my Mum and KFC), he likes Bertrand’s jokes. He gets the added enjoyment of hearing Bertrand tell these jokes adding his Quebecois accent, his hand animations, and his very, very Bertrand expressions. I can’t even begin to describe them here. (Note to self: get out that audio equipment).

Meme, voila! Sans l’accent Quebecois. Sans les mains animee. Sans Bertrand. But none-the-less. Here goes:

A new teacher starts her grade three class: Good morning class. My name is Ms. Prussy. I’m your new teacher. She writes it on the board and underlines the “r”. Remember that. Prussy. Ms. Prussy. Let’s start by learning everybody’s name.

She goes through every student on the list one by one and learns each student’s name.

The next day she says: Good morning class. Do we remember everybody’s name from yesterday?

The class is silent. Some students nod their head. But most remain silent. Well. She says. Can you remember my name?

More silence.

She prompts. Remember I told you to remember the “R”?

She waits. And a boy at the back of the class pipes up: Ms. Crunt?

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