Return to the Pickle Slicer Venue

Our final nights on our trip to Broken Hill, were spent at Halls Gap in the same cottages in which we stayed with Mary, Rob, Junene, Ken, Maureen & Dennis about 11 years ago.

It was at the Kookaburra Restaurant in Halls Gap that I am accused (somewhat undeservedly, I think) of emptying the restaurant late at night after telling one of my favourite jokes about the accountant that worked in a pickle factory. On this occasion, the service was so fast that we seemed to be in and out of the restaurant within an hour or so. This left no time to test this accusation again with another rendition of the same story. Perhaps they were taking precautions!

Anyway, the pickle slicer story goes like this:

An accountant worked in a pickle factory and part of his job was to walk across the factory floor every day and count the inventory. After a few months, he visited his psychiatrist claiming he was stressed and having difficulty coping with a continuing compulsive urge to stick his dick in the pickle slicer.

The psychiatrist advised that the accountant try to increase his willpower to avoid such a calamity and requested that he return in a week to review progress. On his second visit, the accountant claimed, in despair, that the problem was continuing and was, in fact, getting worse. The psychiatrist then advised diversion therapy and suggested that whenever the accountant was walking across the factory that he think of aluminium windows, telephone boxes and traffic lights – anything to keep his mind off the pickle slicer.

After a third week, the accountant returned for a third visit and confessed to the psychiatrist and confessed that he had succumbed to temptation and two days ago he had lost control and had stuck his dick in the pickle slicer.

“Good gracious” exclaimed the psychiatrist. “You had better drop your trousers and let me see what damage has occurred to your equipment”. The psychiatrist couldn’t see anything amiss and asked the accountant “What was the outcome of this incident” The accountant told him sorrowfully “My boss caught me and I got fired!”

The psychiatrist asked “Well, you seem to have no physical injuries, in what state is the pickle slicer”. To which the accountant replied “Oh, she got fired too!’

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