This is more of a story joke then a quick joke, but its
DAMN funny.
![biggrin.gif](http://4.<a href="http://www.forumer.com">forumer</a>.com/html/emoticons/biggrin.gif)
The Gay BananaOnce upon a time there was a boy named Timmy. Timmy was six and he was starting at a new school, he was a little lonely because the last school he was at was where all his friends were.
So, on the first day, the teacher said to the class,:
"Now, children, I went to see what you all learnt last year, so I want you to write a story, it can be anything you want, then in 30 minutes, you can come up to my desk and show me".
So the class got to work writing there stories. Now Timmy, he loved to write stories, so he was enthused, and he wanted to show his new teacher that he was really smart, so off he went.
30 minutes later the children all went up to the teacher with their stories and one by one they let the teacher read them, the teacher prasiing each child for things like creativity, legability and pictures. Finally, it was Timmy's turn.
"What's your story about, Timmy?"
The teacher asked.
"A gay banana miss".
He replies.
"A gay banana?"
The teacher asks, thinking "gay" meant "happy".
She was wrong,
boy was she wrong.
After reading the distrubing story, the teacher was rather angry, but not wanting to start a disruption in the class, she wrote a quick note, stapled it to the story and sent, story, note and Timmy to the principal.
Now, Timmy, he thought that he was going to see the principla because his story was so good. And he waited anxestly and with excitement outside the office.
The prinicipal then appeared and took him into his office, he read the teacher's note and then the story then looked at Timmy, rather disgusted.
"Now, Timmy, why did you write this?"
He asked the boy.
"Because I like gay bananans".
Well, that was enough for the prcinipal.
"Right, young man, I"m calling your parents!"
The principal was seething with rage, but given the liberal age where smacking was banned in schools, he had to control himself. Timmy being only six wasn't very adept at judging body language or tone, so he didn't realise he was in trouble. So naturally, Timmy thought he was going to be lauded, and that his parents would come in and reward him for his fine literaual acheivement.
Finally his parents arrived, a little confused as to the reason they were there, the prcinicpal didn't want to disclose the ifnormation on the phone because the story was just
too graphic for something that could be heard in ear shot. So the parents sat down and the principal began.
"I cannot beleive that there are people like you who could raise such a distrubed perverted child!! Read this!"
The principal bellowed as he handed them the story.
Timmy started to worry.
His parents' expressions as they read the story went from amusement, to confusion to repugnance to out and out rage.
"How could you?"
His father screamed.
"Where did you get this flithy idea from?"
His mother screeched.
"What kind of sick perverted freak are you?"
His father added.
"I'm expelling your dirty minded son!"
The principal yelled over the enraged parents.
"We're taking you home right now, young man, and don't expect any dinner!"
On the drive home Timmy's parents chastised him further, screaming, yelling, making a hell of scene, so much so, people in other cars, even with windows up, could hear the commotion.
Finally when they arrived home, Timmy was sent out side and locked in the garage, his parents screaming something about military school, before returning to the house to further his punishmenet.
Poor Timmy, he didn't konw what was so wrong with his gay banana. So, knowing that he was no longer welcome, he grabbed his story, and crawled out a hole and ran away from home.
Several years later, Timmy was all grown up, and living under a bridge. One particularly cold night, a compassionate Police officer pulled up with intention of taking the hobos he could find for a nice warm feed at the local shelter.
The police man got out and found Timmy curled up in a cardboard box.
"Well, now, what's your name sir?"
"Timmy".
"Well, Timmy, would you like to come with me to the shelter where you can have a hot meal?"
"Sure".
So Timmy got in the car and they drove towards the shelter. On the way, the police officer started asking some questions.
"So, Timmy, do you mind telling me why you're on the street?"
"Well..."
Timmy began.
"I ran away from home when I wa 6".
"Six? that's pretty young, Timmy, why did you do that?"
"Well, I wrote a story, and no one liked it".
"Owh, that's no good, but its certainly no reason to run away. What was the story about?"
The cop inquired.
"A gay banana".
Timmy pulled the frayed paper out of his hobo sack and the officer pulled over to read the story.
Now, the cop thought that since he was six when Timmy wrote it, it must of been the innocent Sound of Music type of gay.
He was wrong.
The cop was so enraged, he arrested Timmy for owning illict and offensive material. He then drove Timmy to the cop shop where he was imprisioned pending trial.
Trial came after five days in the holding cells.
The judge, not wanting to waste his time, read the story, and was quite literally, as was every one, horrified, and as such the judge ruled:
"If the death pentaly were legal, I'd sentence you to die for such horrors!! But instead, I sentence you to life imprision".
So, poor ole Timmy was sent to jail.
In jail, Timmy's room mate was a rather large, and violent looking man named "Pusher".
So, Pusher, bragging, stated to his new roomie.
"I'm in here for buglury, assult, rape, murder, bombing stuff, killing a bunch of cops...".
And as such, PUsher went on to describe some rather horrendous crimes he had committed.
So after two hours of descriptions that would put Rambo to shame, PUsher inquired.
"So why are you in here?"
"When I was six I wrote a story about a gay banana".
Pusher, curious, asked to read the story, Timmy, was a little hesitant, given his recent critisms of his works. But eventually submitted when Pusher held up a shank. So Pusher began reading.
After reading the story, Pusher was in tears.
"Oh my gosh, thats' the most beautiful thing I've ever read... the world has to know about it... I'm goign to help you escape so we share this with everyone!"
PUsher said, weepoing like a little girl.
So for 40 years, they dug a tunnel... Finally the reached the other side of the fence and they started running as the search lights rested on them. Prision guards with their dogs chased them. Timmy and PUsher came to a busy high way and Pusher made it accross without any problems.
Timmy, however, was hit and killed by a truck.
The moral of the story:
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Look both ways before crossing the street.
Hehehehe.
