Highena

John Terry’s affair with teammate Wayne Bridge’s partner Vanessa Perroncel has already stoked up a ton of jokes and terrace songs. Here’s a selecton:

Ashley Cole was caught doing 104mph in a 50mph zone. When questioned by police as to why he was speeding, he said: “l’ve just heard JT is parked outside my house!”

England manager Fabio Capello phoned Wayne Bridge and said: “JT’s lost the captain’s armband. Can you do me a favour and have a good look under your bed for it?”

So JT was sleeping with Wayne Bridge’s girl. Poor old Wayne – he wasn’t even first choice with his missus.

It’s a good thing JT doesn’t bring all his girlfriends to watch him play every match. Abramovich would have to increase the capacity of Stamford Bridge by 20,000.

Newsflash just in: “Bridge close to collapsing in Manchester. Support needed.”

So JT has been caught stealing another man’s girl. I bet his old mum will be so proud he’s learned something from her.

Somebody bought me a box of Terry’s All Gold. I was shocked to find new chocs called French Fancy and Cheat Cluster.

What have Wayne’s ex-missus and the 2008 Champions League final goalpost got in common? They’ve both been banged by JT.

John Terry, former Dad Of The Year.
Kerry Katona, former Mum Of The Year.
I bet Ronnie Wood is polishing his Grandad Of The Year award right now.

The England team have voted for Terry to keep his place in the World Cup squad. With the ban on WAGs travelling to South Africa, no one wants him left behind.

(To the tune of Lord Of The Dance) “Chelsea, wherever they may be, “Don’t leave your bird with John Terry.

“Cos he likes a shag, he likes a bit of fluff, “And he’ll get your missus up the duff!”

Did you know JT has scored 28 times at the Bridge? Nah, nor did Wayne.

What’s John Terry’s favourite song? Under The Bridge.

Wayne asked Vanessa Perroncel if she’d ever cheated on him. She confessed she had – three times. “THREE!” He cried. “When?”

She said: “Remember no one would give you a mortgage, then the bank manager came to see me and agreed it? Then the time you needed that leg operation and it was too tricky so the doc refused – until he came to see me and then you were sorted?

“Then the third time was when you really, really wanted to be made captain of Chelsea and you were those ten votes short… ”

Wayne sent his missus a replica of his willy made from Cadbury’s chocolate. But she refused it, saying she prefers Terry’s!

Bridge refuses to play for England while John Terry’s captain…let’s hope he starts cheating with Heskey’s missus too.

Compiled by The Sun

Many people in the UK are obsessed with Katie Price and her celebrity lifestyle. Others, like me, really couldn’t give a toss. In case you are interested, she’s just got married to her transvestite cage-fighting boyfriend Alex Reid. I just caught the news about it on Yahoo, and couldn’t help but notice the appropriate advert on the right hand side.

This funny video just goes to show how Facebook has helped mess up some relationships, through status updates, poking and sending of gifts.

An elderly British gentleman of 83 arrived in Paris by plane.

At the French immigration desk, the man took a few minutes to locate his passport in his carry-on bag.

“You have been to France before, Monsieur?” the Immigration officer asked, sarcastically.

The elderly gentleman admitted he had been to France previously.

“Then you should know well enough to have your passport ready.”

The British gentleman says, “The last time I was here, I didn’t have to show it.”

“Impossible. The British always have to show their passports on arrival in France!”

The elderly gentleman gave the French Immigration Officer a long hard look.

Then he quietly explained;

“Well, the last time I was here, I came ashore on Juno Beach on D-Day in June 1944, and I couldn’t find any Frenchmen to show it to.”

Pocket Tazer Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Tazer for their anniversary submitted this:

Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse- sized tazer. The effects of the tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety——-

WAY TOO COOL! L ong story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time, I’d get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.

AWESOME!!!
Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy thinking to myself that it couldn’t be all that bad with only two AAA batteries, right? There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and then thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?

> > > So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and tazer in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant.. A two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control and a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
> > >
> > > All the while I’m looking at this little device measuring about 5″ long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference (loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries), pretty cute really, and thinking to myself, ‘no possible way!’ What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best.
> > >
> > > I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side so as to say, Don’t do it stupid,’ reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny little thing couldn’t hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and …….
> > >
> > > HOLY MOTHER OF GOD… WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRCCfION. .. WHAT THE …. !!!
> > >
> > > I’m pretty sure Hulk Hogan ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking upon my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs! The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.
> > >
> > > Note: If you ever feel compelled to ‘mug’ yourself with a tazer, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself you will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor! A three second burst would be considered conservative!
> > >
> > > A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel above the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. and had no control over the drooling.

> > > Apparently I had crapped in my shorts, but was too numb to know for sure, and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head, which I believe came from my hair. I’m still looking for my testicles and I’m offering a significant reward for their safe return!

> > > P.S … My wife can’t stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift and now regularly threatens me with it!
> > >
> > > If you think education is difficult, try being stupid I!