Horn Jokes

A guy was standing in front of the gorilla cage at his local zoo when along came a gust of wind which swept some dust into his eye. The guy rubbed his eyelid which sent the gorilla crazy. He bent open the bars, and beat the guy senseless.
When the guy finally came to his senses, he reported the incident to the zookeeper. The zookeeper nodded knowingly as he explained that pulling down your eyelid means "screw you" in gorilla language. Obviously this didn't make the victim feel all that compensated for what had happened so he vowed revenge.
The next day, shopping list in hand, he purchased two large knives, two party hats, two party horns, and a large sausage. Placing the sausage in his pants, off he hurried to the zoo and went right up to the gorilla's cage where he opened up his bag of goodies. Of course he knew that gorillas were natural mimics so he proceeded to put on one of the party hats. As expected, the gorilla looked at him, reached through the bars, grabbed more...

A man in Ireland is driving his Morris Miner to the ferry port to go home in England. Suddenly, his car breaks down. A bloke in a Ferrari pulls up and says he has a towrope in his boot, but he warns that he is a fast driver. So if he goes too fast, just flash your lights and beep your horn. They set off and suddenly the Ferrari driver spots a Porsche. He thinks "this is no good, I must overtake that Porsche." So he speeds up, the driver of the Porsche speeds up, until they are speeding like a man-on-fire!
The driver of the Morris miner starts flashing its lights and beeping its horn.
Meanwhile, Paddy, Mick and Ferges are standing on their driveway. Suddenly, ZOOM! Goes the Porsche. ZOOM! Goes the Ferrari. ZOOM! Goes the Morris Miner.
Paddy says' did you see that Porsche, it was going' at least a 100 miles an hour!'
Mick replies' yep, that was okay, but did you see that Ferrari, that was 110 miles an hour'
Ferges thinks, then says

BRAIN - SYSTEM: Attention. Alert registered.
CENTRAL: Alert? Number One, report!
NUMBER ONE: Sir! We're picking up loud music.
CENTRAL: Music? We were just asleep!
NUMBER ONE: Yes sir. Ears report it's "The Last Train to Clarksville."
CENTRAL: Good lord, are we being tortured?
NUMBER ONE: Sir, Eyes are functional and request instruction.
CENTRAL: Tell them to open up and try to find out what is going on.
NUMBER ONE: Scope! Okay, I see darkness... darkness... Wait, there's a
woman sleeping there.
CENTRAL: A woman?
NUMBER ONE: Sir, Libido Station wants to know if it is Anna Kournikova.
CENTRAL: Forget about Libido. What can you tell me?
NUMBER ONE: Sir, Memory reports a near perfect match to "wife," sir.
CENTRAL: Well of course. Keep looking.
NUMBER ONE: Sir, urgent report from Stomach on the horn, do you want to take it?
CENTRAL: Stomach, what's going on?
STOMACH: Sir, we've taken a more...

The following item was extracted from the travel section of a UK daily newspaper:
Travelling in India is an almost hallucinatory potion of sound, spectacle and experience. It is frequently heart-rending, sometimes hilarious, mostly exhilarating, always unforgettable - and, when you are on the roads, extremely dangerous.
Most Indian road users observe a version of the Highway Code based on an ancient text. These 12 rules of the Indian road are published for the first time in English.
ARTICLE I
The assumption of immortality is required of all road users.
ARTICLE II
The following precedence must be accorded at all times. In descending order, give way to: cows, elephants, heavy trucks, buses, official cars, camels, light trucks, buffalo, Jeeps, ox-carts, private cars, motorcycles, scooters, auto-rickshaws, pigs, pedal rickshaws, goats, bicycles (goods-carrying), handcarts, bicycles (passenger-carrying), dogs, pedestrians.
ARTICLE III
All wheeled vehicles more...

A pretty girl is driving through the West. Her car runs out of gas, and an Indian comes along on a horse, gives her a ride to a gas station. Every few minutes he lets out a wild whoop that would curdle milk. Finally, he drops her off with a final Yaaaaa-Hooo! and gallops off.
"My god!" says the gas station guy, "What the hell were you doing to that Injun to make him holler like that?"
"Why, nothing," says the girl, "I just sat behind him with my arms around him, holding onto his saddle horn."
"Lady," says the guy, "Indians don't use saddles."