It’s that time of year. Up all night with a shoebox full of receipts, bank statements and a bottle of gin… Finally, you’re through it all and you promise yourself to be better organised and not leave it to the last minute next year…
So anyway. A 92-year-old man gets called in for a tax investigation. He brings his accountant. The taxman begins: “I see, Mr Codger, that you live an extravagant lifestyle, declare nothing by way of income and claim that you make all your money from gambling.”
“That’s right. I’m a very good gambler. I’ll prove it to you, if you like.”
Taxman agrees, and the old chap bets him a grand that he can bite his own eye. Taxman takes the bet, whereupon he removes his glass eye and bites it. Then he bets him two grand that he can bite his other eye. Taxman takes the bet, whereupon he removes his dentures and bites the other eye.
At this point, the taxman is three grand down in under two minutes and starting to feel uncomfortable. Then the old guy says: “I’ll bet you six grand that I can stand on one side of your desk and urinate into the bin on the other side of the room without a drop going anywhere else.” The taxman assesses the situation, frisks him for a catheter, and finally takes the bet.
Mr Codger then tries his best to aim, but it goes all over the desk, all over the taxman, all over the place. And the taxman jumps up and starts dancing joyously round the table. He’s just made three grand. Mr Codger’s accountant however, puts his head in his hands.
“What’s the matter with you?” “This morning, my client bet me £25k that he could piss all over you and you’d be happy about it…”