Why I love our British sense of humour

It's an English August, time for cricket and teas and things like that, known affectionately by politicians and journalists as the silly season. And on that note, I have just been emailed THIS

I know, I know: it's old news now, the famous corpsing episode where Jonathan Agnew describes Ian Botham's stumble over his own stumps as ... " just couldn't quite get his leg over" - but there is just something so brilliantly British about the great Brian Johnston's desperately resisted and sturdily refined collapse into hysterics. I defy you to listen to it without laughing. The silly season comes but once a year - enjoy it. Even if our cricket pitches are still flooded.

This is filed under 'election losing jokes'. I think it might be quite obvious why...

No joke...

Our abysmal July makes this joke particularly appropriate. And it could be a real election-loser, if told badly, at the end of a long dinner when everyone just wanted to go home. So it gets included.

In the year 2006, the Lord came unto Noah, who was now living in Britain and said, "Once again, the earth has become wicked and over-populated, and see the end of all flesh before me. You need to build another Ark and have 2 of every living thing along with a few good humans.You have 6 months to build the Ark before I start the unending rain for 40 days and 40 nights".

Six months later, the Lord looked down and saw Noah weeping in his back garden - but no Ark.

"Noah!" He roared, "I'm about to start the rain! Where is the Ark?

"Forgive me, Lord," begged Noah, "but things have changed. I needed planning permission. I've been arguing with the inspector about the need for a sprinkler system.

My neighbours claim that I've violated the local council's by-laws by building the Ark in my garden and exceeding the height limitations.

We had to go to the Development Appeal Board for a decision.

Then the Department of Transportation demanded a deposit be posted for the future costs of moving power lines and other overhead obstructions, to clear the passage for the Ark's move to the sea. I told them that the sea would be coming to us, but they wouldn't listen.

Then I had problems getting the wood. There's a ban on cutting local trees.

When I started gathering the animals, an animal rights group threatened me for confining wild animals against their will. They said it was cruel and inhumane to put so many animals in a confined space.

Then the local council ruled that I couldn't build the Ark until they'd conducted an Environmental impact study on your proposed flood.

I'm still trying to resolve a complaint with the Human Rights Commission on how many indigenous people I'm supposed to hire for my building crew. The Immigration department is checking the status of most of the people who want to work and I've even had a letter from the Home Office asking about my ethnic background!

To make matters worse, the Inland Revenue has seized all my assets, claiming I'm trying to leave the country illegally with endangered species.

So, forgive me, Lord, but it would take at least 10 years for me to finish this Ark''.

Suddenly the skies cleared, the sun began to shine, and a rainbow stretched across the sky.

Noah looked up in wonder and asked, "You mean you're not going to destroy the world?"

"No," said the Lord. "New Labour beat me to it."

Election-losing jokes

Watching the men's singles final reminds me of a truly dreadful joke that I can't get out of my head. Politicians often have a knack of coming out with particularly bad jokes. This one's a real election loser. Try it on your friends and stand well back:

Approach your friend with the air of someone about to impart some great piece of knowledge.
"Did you know all male tennis players are witches?" you ask.
(Pause, while your friend looks at you quizzically.)
"Yep," you say, with immense authority. " I mean, Goran - Even 'ee's a witch. " (Ivanisevic)

Bad. Really bad.

More election-losing jokes, please!