Wooly mammoths

Each week I download the podcast of Scotland's Funny Bits from BBC Radio Scotland. While I don't always faithfully listen to it, I have much of it cued up. 

I was quite taken with the first episode that I encountered, a portion of which I have transcribed below. This is of course a poor substitute for the audio experience. If anyone can locate the link for archived shows, I'll provide it here as well. It's really funny stuff!

Scotland's Funny Bits: Ping Pong Balls, Thanksgiving and VAT (air date 11/28/2008)

John Paul Sumner, curator and scientist at the Kelvingrove Museum in Glasgow explained how to bring back the wooly mammoth.

John: If you wanted to go for the whole thing to clone a mammoth, you would take your mammoth DNA, put it inside an elephant's egg cell, put that back in the elephant, leave it for about 22 months to cook, and then lo and behold--

Fred: Gas mark, 4.

John: Yes! Gas mark, elephant... and low and behold, what you'd get is a wooly mammoth being born about 2 years later... much to the surprise of the elephant!

Fred: I would think so, yeah! A wooly one, hmm? 

John: How'd that happen? 

Fred: You know the elephants would say, "They say we never forget, but I've obviously blanked that one out me mind!"

And this is Fred's theory...

Fred: Maybe the mammoth became extinct because it was a pest! 

John: Well, possibly... and just annoying...

Fred: I was here sitting down for a picnic...

John: Just irritating!

(A mammoth trumpets in the background.)

Fred: Aww, no! Mammoths! Have you got mammoth repellant? I've got me SP-15 Mammoth Repellant Cream on. They'll be away in a minute.

Post script: I just wanted to give a shout out to visitors from Sweden, Portugal, United Arab Emirates, Jordan, Vietnam and India (Hi, Thierry).

Punchlines

What do you call a raccoon that farts on an elephant or something?

The long and the short of it is this. The whole cross-breeding experiment the other night had gone awry. I mean things really got f*cked up. I don't know if it was deep-sixed or what, but no one's saying a word about it. Not a word. The only reminder we have of that night is, well, the ever-present fumes from the raccoon.