A quick pick of dirty jokes from Peter Cook and Dudley Moore's sweariest characters
A Right Pair Of C****: The Complete F****** Derek & Clive is out 31 July
The Worst Job I Ever had
Clive: The worst job I ever had was with Jayne Mansfield. She’s a fantastic bird, you know, big t*ts, huge bum and everything like that. But I had the terrible job of retrieving lobsters from her bum.
Derek: Really? Bloody hell that must have been a task.
Clive: Well, scientifically, lobsters up the bum. In general terms it was known as “lobstericimus bumbequissimus”.
Back of the Cab
C: I had f*cking Bertrand Russell in the back of my cab. I said, “’Ere, Bertie, you’ve written the history of the f*cking Western world, what’s the f*cking answer?” He looked round, didn’t f*cking know. And I said, “Look, Bertie, Bertie, Bertie..... GET OUT THE CAB.” He said: “What is the meaning of getting out the cab?” I said, “There’s no f*cking meaning, it just means ‘get out the cab’.” And he went into some philosophical argument about whether getting out the cab was the same as getting in the cab. All that crap, I thought, “F*ck it.”
D: F*cking dualistic world crap.
C: I wanted to buy some dark glasses to keep the sun out an’ that. And they gave me a motorcycle instead. They didn’t tell me. So I got home and put the cycle on me nose and hoped to get some shade but it’s so f*cking heavy. Mine was a huge great Honda. Absolutely useless for keeping the sun out.
D: Ruins your f*cking eyes.
C: And then I made another mistake. I jumped on my dark glasses and tried to zoom up to Kilburn at 100mph.
C: I stormed up the stairs of this f*cking office. I opened the door and there was this f*cking manager, stark naked, lying on the f*cking floor with a f*cking ant sucking his f*cking nipple. And I said to him, with all the dignity I could muster: “Is this the way to run a f*cking ballroom?” C*nt.
This Bloke Comes Up To Me
D: The other day, some bloke came up to me and…
C: What, Tony Newley?
D: No, I don’t know who it was, and he said: “You c*nt”. I said, “What?” He said, “You c*nt.”
C: You replied, you f*cking c*nt?
D: Not straight away. I said, “You c*nt.” He comes back with, “You f*cking c*nt.” He said, “You call me a c*nt? You f*cking c*nt.” I said, “You f*cking c*nt.” I said, “Who are you f*cking calling c*nt, c*nt.”
C: I’m going out sh*tting myself with f*cking fear and f*cking cancer which God so kindly provided. Without that, we wouldn’t have a way to die would we? How f*cking good of him. He can’t just torment us with being eternally young and being able to f*ck everyone. No. He gave us his great gift of f*cking cancer.
D: You know what’s going to happen when you go to heaven? We’re going to have this tape played endlessly. As we burn.