Coarse lanuage! Not for the under 16's or pilots of sensitive disposition!

Let me read the joke

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A beancounter type spent many, many years at the gym, lifting weights and all that other crap trying to develop the perfect physique. Of course, he wasn't having the best of luck, and his body still looked like vulture guano.

One day, after an especially difficult session in the weight room, the beancounter retires to the showers. As this was a communal shower, he could not help but to notice the man showering next to him: all of one metre tall, but with the most perfect Herculean musculature one could ever wish for--and "well-endowed" too, if you take my meaning!

Curious and desperate, BeanCounter asks "What is your secret? I tried for years to develop a physique like that, but just can't seem to get it. I must be overlooking something."

The wee little weightlifter replied, "Well now! This is your lucky day then."

"What do you mean?"

"It so happens that I'm a leperchaun, and it's well within my power to grant ye your wish! But...I should warn ye--ye would have to do me a wee bit of a favour in return."

"I suppose that's fair. All right, I'll do any thing you ask, if I can have a body like that."

"Anything--anything at all?!"

"Yes! ANYTHING!" implored the beancounter.

The leperchaun considered for a moment. "Right! It seems I have a wee bit of difficulty... of a...well...SEXUAL nature of late, and I was wondering whether...well, whether you could possibly...HELP?"

BeanCounter furtively glances in every direction, then decides, saying "No-one's around, no-one's going to know, and I'll never tell. So, maybe just this ONE time."

So, locking themselves up within the privacy of the loo, the leperchaun proceeds to shag the beancounter silly. Afterwards, the leperchaun remarks "Now then, before I can grant ye your wish, I must ask you some questions. First, what is your name?"

"My name is John", replied the beancounter.

"Right then, John," said the leperchaun,"what would your trade be?"

"I'm a senior management executive for ExpurtExpat Airways!" boasted Johnny BeanCounter quite proudly, devoid of any shame pertaining to the un-natural acts he had just performed.

"So that must entail a lot of responsibility, then. You must have had to go to school a long time then?"

"Why yes! Four years of economics and accountancy, an MBA from Harvard and Juris Doctor!"

The leperchaun actually seemed impressed, if only for a moment. "Why that's a lot of education indeed! Tell me, John: how old are ye?"

"Thirty-six."

"Johnny! Ye are THIRTY-SIX years old...and you STILL believe in leperchauns?!!!!"