Copyright

HarperCollinsPublishers

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First published in paperback by HarperCollinsPublishers in 1993

Copyright © Ernest Forbes 1993

Illustrations copyright © Graham Morris 1993

Ernest Forbes asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

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Source ISBN: 9780006382461

Ebook Edition © JUNE 2016 ISBN: 9780008192037

Version: 2016-06-20

Author’s Note

Had it been intended that man should ski – when I say man I use it collectively to embrace all members of the human race and politicians – we would have been born with feet which grew lengthways to equal our height.

Skiing is definitely for the birds.

I’m glad I haven’t to ski until tomorrow.

It is alleged that tall persons make better skiers and this book is guaranteed to increase your height …

… if you stand on it!

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Author’s Note

The World’s Best Skiing Jokes

Keep Reading

Also in the Series

About the Publisher

The World’s Best Skiing Jokes

‘Why the hell did you write that insurance policy for a 96-year-old man going on a skiing holiday?’ shouted the manager at the travel clerk.

‘Well,’ said the clerk, ‘I checked the records and no one of that age has ever had a skiing accident.’

The skier came to a stop at the end of the run and threw his poles, hat and gloves to the ground as he snorted in disgust, ‘I’ve never skied so badly before!’

‘Oh,’ probed an interested instructor, ‘you mean to say you’ve skied before?’

‘What the hell happened to Graham this afternoon when he was jumping?’ asked Ken. ‘He left the jump in a perfect position then all of a sudden he went to pieces. Arms and legs all over the place, then down with a thump.’

‘Well,’ answered Tim, shaking his head in disbelief, ‘in the middle of the jump his mobile phone rang and the silly bugger tried to answer it!’

The sports shop had a large sign: ‘50 PER CENT OFF ALL SPORTING EQUIPMENT.’

A man walked into the shop and, indicating the sign, asked the assistant, ‘Does that apply to skis?’

‘It does,’ replied the assistant.

‘Good,’ acknowledged the man and took out his chequebook, whereupon the assistant handed him one ski.

‘My instructor says I would be a great skier except for two things,’ announced a woman to her companion.

‘Oh,’ said the other woman, ‘what are they?’

‘My feet,’ came the reply.

The ski instructress was talking to a class of beginners and explaining to them the various signs they would encounter in the sport.

‘Signs at present are not universal,’ pointed out the instructress. ‘The colours and shapes of the signs are different in America, Europe and Australia. Some places have square signs, some diamond-shaped, some circles and some use balls. The only common factor is the colour black and that indicates the most difficult runs. Now, from what I have said, could anyone tell me where I would find black circles?’

‘In Europe,’ replied one man.

‘Very good,’ nodded the instructress. ‘Now, where would I find black diamonds?’

‘America and Australia,’ came a quick answer.

‘Excellent,’ approved the instructress. ‘And where would I find black balls?’

‘The West Indies Cricket Team?’ chirped a little blonde at the front of the class.

Her legs ached, her arms ached, her back ached, her head ached, in fact she ached all over. She spent most of her time on the slopes picking herself up. Her skis were constantly entangled, one pointing east the other pointing west. She even took a tumble when she tried to get on a chair lift and almost impaled her husband.

As she slowly dragged herself into the hotel bedroom, she croaked to her husband, ‘Tell me again, darling, what a wonderful time we’re having. I keep forgetting!’

‘I would ski only I don’t want to break a promise,’ boasted the big-headed one.

‘I would ski only I don’t want to break a leg,’ stated the honest one.

‘I gave up fishing for skiing,’ said Richard, ‘and I must say, I would rather ski than fish.’

‘Ah, you would rather battle against the elements than a fish,’ said Larry.

‘No, not really. But when you talk about skiing you don’t have to produce evidence of your expertise,’ replied Richard.

A man told his wife he was going on a business trip for a week but he had actually booked a week at a ski resort. He flew out of the country and was soon signing the register at the hotel, eager to hire the ski equipment and get on the slopes.

Properly equipped, he was enjoying the feeling of freedom and the crisp clear air when he suddenly realized he was lost. As he stared round him to get his bearings a huge hairy figure appeared, causing him to topple over and cry, ‘Oh, Christ!’

‘Please don’t be afraid,’ said the large figure in a soft voice. ‘I am a yeti and I will not harm you.’

‘Oh, it’s not that I’m afraid of you,’ replied the skier scrambling to his feet. ‘But for a moment I thought you were my wife!’

The husband and wife were enjoying the skiing until the man suddenly lost control and went waist deep into the snow.

As he struggled to free himself his wife said, ‘Hurry up, my feet are freezing.’

‘You should be so lucky,’ shuddered the husband.

The weather had suddenly turned bad and a snowstorm swirled up, restricting visibility. Members of the ski patrol were trying to check that there were no skiers out when a man almost skied into their office.

‘You’ll have to go and rescue my wife, she’s trapped on the slope,’ gasped the man as he started to remove his skis.

‘Don’t take off your skis,’ said a member of the ski patrol. ‘You can lead us to where you last saw her.’

‘Are you mad?’ yelled the skier. ‘You don’t really expect me to go out in weather like this?’

An Irishman and his wife arrived in Aspen, Colorado, for a skiing holiday and as they sat in the restaurant for their first meal the husband scanned the menu and asked his wife, ‘What do you call that American dish I’m so wild about?’

‘Goldie Hawn,’ replied his wife without looking up from the menu.

The skier was making his way to the chair lift when he was stopped by a young woman.

‘Good morning, sir,’ greeted the young woman. ‘My name is Barbara and I am carrying out a survey on behalf of the ski association as to the reason you chose this particular resort. I won’t take up much of your time if you would be good enough to answer a few questions.’

‘Certainly,’ said the skier, resting on his poles.

‘Thank you,’ replied Barbara, holding her pen at the ready over her clipboard. ‘Did you choose this resort because of the excellent skiing facilities?’

‘No,’ answered the young man.

‘Because of the great training programme?’

‘No.’

‘Because you’re sure to have good quality snow here?’

‘No.’

‘Because you are encouraged to take part in so many events?’

‘No.’

‘Because you can see so many world-class skiers here?’

‘No.’

‘Because of the wonderful hotel accommodation?’

‘No.’

‘Because of the world-famous food?’

‘No.’

‘Because some of the streets are heated and you can walk to the shops in comfort?’

‘No.’

‘Because of the shows in the evening?’

‘No.’

‘Well,’ challenged the girl, ‘why did you come here?’

‘I won it in a holiday competition,’ grinned the young man as he side-slipped away.

The ambulance men rushed the stretcher into the hospital. The injured man was lying face down on the stretcher with a ski pole sticking in his backside.

‘What happened?’ asked the doctor.

‘Two skiers crashed into each other and in the tangle this man was impaled on the ski pole. We thought it would be better to leave it there until you saw it,’ answered the ambulance man.

‘Right,’ said the doctor. ‘Who is the man holding his hand?’

‘That’s the man who caused the injury.’

‘He’s showing a lot of concern,’ commented the doctor.

‘Not really,’ replied the ambulance man. ‘He wants his ski pole back!’

At the recent Winter Olympics the Irish downhill champion broke his leg in two places: once at the top of the run and once at the bottom.

Very early one morning at a ski resort a beginner went out to practise a few moves on his own without any onlookers. He was making slow and shaky progress when suddenly he was struck by a piste basher.

As he lay in hospital, legs in plaster, arms and head bandaged, one of his friends called to see him.

‘You know,’ advised his friend, ‘you should sue for damages.’

‘I don’t want damages,’ replied the injured skier. ‘I want repairs!’

The ski instructor was talking to a class of beginners and was giving them a history of skiing.

‘The “Hoting Ski”, which was found in Sweden, is believed to be over four thousand years old,’ explained the instructor. ‘It is generally accepted that this ski was mainly used for hunting but sport has not been ruled out. I imagine any sport in which they would have taken part would have been very different from what we know today. Tell me, can anyone suggest two other ancient sports?’

‘Certainly,’ answered one would-be skier. ‘Antony and Cleopatra?’

A doctor was explaining his surgery methods to his new assistant.

‘When a young person comes to the surgery and is suffering from stress, I ask if he or she skis. If the answer is “yes”, I advise them to stop at once. If the answer is “no”, I advise them to start as soon as possible.’

‘I believe you had a terrible fall,’ observed a concerned skier when he met his friend.

‘Indeed I did. Someone stole my skis,’ came the sad reply.

‘Stole your skis? Then how did you fall?’ queried the puzzled man.

‘They stole them while I was in the middle of a jump!’

‘Is it true you had glass skis made for your wife?’ asked Alan.

‘Quite true,’ answered Tony.

‘Glass skis? But why glass?’ questioned Alan.

‘So when she knocks someone down and skis over them, she’ll see who it is!’

The two girls arrived at the resort for their first skiing holiday. They had a lot of luggage and immediately started to unpack when they reached their hotel room.

New ski suits, gloves, hats, boots, goggles, underclothes, soft boots, dresses, blouses, skirts, sweaters, shoes, coats, sun cream, lip salve, cameras, a video on skiing and make-up soon covered the bed.

As they stood looking at the collection of clothing and various other items one girl suddenly exclaimed, ‘Oh, bother! We’ve forgotten to bring our skis!’

Desmond was enjoying his cross-country run when he heard the shouts and screams of a girl. He immediately headed in the direction of the cries. When he reached the scene he saw a girl lying on the ground and a man trying to stick her skis in the snow in the shape of a cross.

‘What’s happening?’ shouted Desmond.

‘This girl has had an accident and I’m marking the spot with her skis,’ replied the man.

‘You stupid bugger,’ cried Desmond. ‘You’re supposed to take them off first!’

‘Oh, I’m so thrilled,’ cried the girl. ‘My husband has just broken the record for the Irish ski jump. Has your husband broken anything in skiing?’

‘He most certainly has,’ answered the second girl. ‘His collarbone, his right arm, both his legs and his left wrist!’

‘Hello, George,’ greeted David as he met his friend. ‘Were you on the piste this afternoon?’

‘Afraid not. Haven’t had a drink since last night,’ replied George.

A skier came off the jump and executed a long and graceful flight through the air, only to land slightly short of the leader.

‘Dammit!’ he snorted in anger. ‘If only I’d farted harder.’

‘Why didn’t your husband join us?’ asked one skier as Joan met up with the group.

‘Oh, when he heard it was a dry slope he didn’t want to come as he thought he wouldn’t get a drink,’ replied Joan.

The two bystanders watched as the world-famous cricketer, David Gower, completed the slalom course.

‘He’s not a bad skier,’ commented one man.

‘Not as good a skier as he is a cricketer,’ countered the second man.

‘Ah, but that’s a completely different ball game,’ defended the first man.

The girl very gingerly made her way to the nursery slope, taking her time to avoid a false move.

‘Good morning,’ said an instructor. ‘This is a new experience for you, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, indeed it is,’ replied the girl.

‘Would I be right in saying that this was your very first time to ski?’ asked the instructor.

‘You would be quite right,’ answered the girl. ‘How did you know it was my first time?’

‘You have your skis on back to front,’ smiled the instructor.

The two women met in the gift shop at a ski resort and one greeted the other. ‘Hello, Mary, I hear your husband had an accident and is in hospital.’

‘Yes, he went off pissed and took a tumble,’ replied the wife.

‘You mean “off-piste”?’

‘Oh no, I don’t.’

The two men were enjoying their first skiing holiday and even managed to get a little skiing between bouts of drinking. They had arranged to meet in the bar for a prelunch drink and one man had already downed a couple of drinks before his friend arrived.

‘What kept you?’ enquired the tippler. ‘You’re already two drinks behind.’

‘I was on that far run and some stupid bugger had stuck a lot of flags in the ground so I had to take them all out before I got going,’ replied his friend.

A prostitute went on a skiing holiday and was receiving her first lesson on the nursery slope. The instructor was showing her the stance

‘Be relaxed, feet slightly apart for good balance, weight evenly distributed on both skis, bending a little forward from the waist. That’s it, except for your legs, you’ll never get anywhere with your legs so far apart.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ replied the prostitute. ‘I got on this holiday.’

The skier came off the jump and nose-dived into the ground, a tangle of arms, legs and skis.

‘Hell!’ said one skier standing at the ramp. ‘Look at that!’

‘Well,’ said another skier, ‘you shouldn’t have pushed him when he said he had vertigo.’

‘Vertigo!’ exclaimed the first skier. ‘Christ! I thought he said “Here we go”!’

‘Mummy, may I go skiing?’ asked the little girl.

‘No, you may not, it’s too dangerous,’ replied her mother.

‘But Daddy goes skiing,’ persisted the little girl.

‘Yes, but he’s insured.’

‘There’s one thing I like about skiing as a sport,’ observed the gentleman, fingering his MCC tie.

‘What’s that?’ asked his companion.

‘You’re never bothered by a confounded streaker spoiling a run,’ barked the gent.

A skier on his own on a cross-country run was travelling too fast when he realized he was heading for a gorge. In panic he drove his poles into the ground but only one pole took grip and he clung to it with both hands as he dangled over a 2,000-foot drop.

‘Help! Help!’ cried the terrified skier. ‘Is there anyone up there? Help! Help!’

Afraid to move too much in case he dislodged the pole, he could already feel the cold creeping into his body.

‘Help! Help!’ he shouted again. ‘Is there anyone up there?’

Suddenly a deep voice boomed across the sky, ‘You will be saved, my son, if you will do as I say.’

The skier looked up but saw nothing but sky.

Again the voice boomed. ‘Do as I say and you will be saved. Do you hear me?’

The now very cold skier answered, ‘Yes, I hear you and I will do as you say.’

‘Then let go of your ski pole and you will be saved,’ commanded the voice.

The skier looked down at the frightening drop then, looking up, cried, ‘Help! Help! Is there anyone ELSE up there?’

‘My dog can ski.’

‘He must be a very clever dog.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. He’s fine on the jump but he stops at every gate on the slalom.’

Sign outside gents’ toilet at a well-known ski resort:

PLEASE REMOVE SKIS BEFORE USING URINALS.

The two skiers were waiting for a T-bar lift and one remarked, ‘Does it worry you that you could get injured skiing?’

‘Not at all,’ replied his companion cheerfully. ‘Plenty of help available. There are usually more doctors on the slopes than in the hospitals.’

A bus-load of Irish tourists arrived in Aspen, Colorado, and the tour guide was telling them about the ski resort. ‘Some of the streets in Aspen have underground heating so they are clear at all times,’ she concluded.

‘It’s a pity they haven’t got underground heating up those mountains to get rid of all that bloody snow,’ remarked one tourist.

The man went into a shop selling sporting equipment and asked for a ski mask.

‘Yes, sir,’ said the assistant. ‘Will there be anything else? Gloves? Boots? Poles? Helmet?’

‘No, I don’t need anything else to hold up a bank,’ replied the man.

Skiing is like a career in politics. It takes you a long time to reach the top but you can come down in a few minutes.

The Englishman and the Irishman met on the nursery slope in a ski resort in Austria. ‘Hello, Paddy,’ greeted the Englishman. ‘I didn’t expect to meet you here. The last I heard from you was that you wanted to water ski.’

‘I did,’ replied Paddy, ‘but I couldn’t find a lake with a slope.’

‘I believe your husband had a nasty fall on your skiing holiday,’ said Anna to her friend Linda.

‘Indeed he did,’ replied Linda without much sympathy.

‘Did he fall off the jump or the run?’ asked Anna.

‘The barstool,’ came the curt reply.

The girl reached the end of the run and said to her instructor, ‘I love skiing. I could ski like this for ever.’

‘Oh,’ said the instructor, ‘you mean you don’t want to improve?’

The two women were having a little gossip about their hostess, who was out of the room.

‘She’s a very sporting type,’ said one. ‘Called her second son Ski because she’s so fond of skiing.’

‘Oh,’ remarked the other woman, ‘I wondered why she called her first son Dick.’

‘Did you enjoy your skiing holiday,’ enquired Joan.

‘Oh yes, it was wonderful,’ enthused Jean.

‘And what about your husband? Has he improved since you taught him to ski last year?’ went on Joan.

‘Indeed he has improved,’ exclaimed Jean. ‘This year he only broke one leg.’

‘What do you get if you cross one ski with another ski?’ asked Charles.

‘I don’t know. What do you get if you cross one ski with another ski?’ queried Andy.

‘A bloody broken leg,’ replied Charles.

Sir Anthony Hopkins, the Oscar-winning actor, went on a skiing holiday to Switzerland and one day he went for a cross-country trek alone. He was enjoying the solitude and possibly thinking of winning another Oscar when he hit an icy patch and fell, injuring his ankle. He was unable to put any weight on his foot so skiing and walking were both out of the question. He knew he couldn’t crawl the distance in the snow and was pondering on his next action when a St Bernard rescue dog trotted up beside him and licked his face. Sir Anthony heaved himself on to the back of the dog, which set off in a homeward direction.

Suddenly the weather deteriorated, a snowstorm broke and visibility was nil, yet the dog struggled on through the snow. Eventually Sir Anthony spotted a light and guided the dog to it.

When they finally reached the light, which was coming from a lodge, both the actor and the dog were exhausted. Sir Anthony knocked loudly on the door, which was opened by a hatchet-faced woman.

‘What do you want?’ she asked in an unpleasant voice.

‘We need help, madam. Look, this poor dog is completely exhausted, he has carried me for miles. I have an injured ankle and we haven’t eaten or had anything to drink for hours,’ gasped Sir Anthony.

‘Well, you can’t stay here,’ snarled the woman. ‘This lodge is for women only.’

‘But surely, madam, surely,’ pleaded Sir Anthony, ‘you wouldn’t turn a knight out on a dog like this?’

The girl was about to make her first ski jump and was feeling very apprehensive. ‘Are you sure’, she asked her instructor, ‘that I’m ready to make this jump?’

‘I wouldn’t let you try the jump if I didn’t think you could do it,’ replied the instructor with a confident smile.

‘I hope you’re right,’ replied the girl nervously.

‘Of course I’m right,’ assured the instructor. ‘Just what is worrying you?’

‘It’s just that period in the air, after I jump and before I land,’ said the girl. ‘Sort of suspended in midair.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ encouraged the instructor, patting the girl’s shoulder. ‘I’ve never left anyone up there yet.’

The man was lying in a hospital bed, completely swathed in bandages and plaster. A doctor was standing beside the bed filling in a chart when a man walked in to the ward.

‘May I speak to Eric, doctor?’ asked the visitor.

‘Who are you?’ asked the doctor.

‘I’m his skiing companion. I was with him when he had the accident.’

‘Is it important?’

‘Well, it is bad news,’ replied the man.

‘You’re telling me’, exclaimed the doctor, ‘that you have bad news for a man who has broken practically every bone in his body?’

‘Yes, he broke his skis as well!’

The two girls were discussing skiing and how much they would like to go to a ski resort when their aunt overheard them.

‘Girls,’ warned their aunt, ‘you must be very careful if you go skiing. Some years ago I went skiing and injured myself so badly I could never ski again.’

‘Oh, that was terrible,’ said one girl.

‘Indeed it was,’ agreed the other girl, tugging her ear thoughtfully. ‘Tell me, Auntie, what did you do with your skis?’

‘Darling,’ shouted Rodney as he charged into the house, ‘I have just been speaking to Fred and he suggested we should have another skiing holiday like last year; the four of us, you, Jill, Fred and me. What do you think?’

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