So I don't know much about baseball, but here's the joke.

This fella is going to a baseball game and he gets a packet of skittles and a bag of chips and a big Coke and he goes and he makes his way through the crowd and sits in his seat.

He's just about to sit down when he hears someone from above yell,

Hey, Wayne! He drops his skittles a bit and he turns, stands up and he looks around but he can't see who it is.

So he sits back down and enjoys the game, about five minutes go by.

Hey, Wayne! And again, startles him. He's dropping his food.

He's getting bloody frustrated. He stands up and he's looking, but he cannot for the life of him see who it is.

This happens a couple more times, you know, and skittles are everywhere and final time.

Hey Wayne! And he just finally had enough.

So he stands up and he turns around and he says,

My name is not Wayne.

Well. People who are good at telling jokes could tell that joke really wrong. All of my dad's jokes are very, very rude.

Very rude.

Like, whenever my sister sends me one, she'd be like,

make sure nobody's around when you listen to this.

She records him.

You told me one joke.

I don't know if you remember this.

It was a long time ago.

This teenage boy runs downstairs into the kitchen where his grandma is.

And he says, hi, Nan, have you seen a bottle of pills that say LSD on them?

She says, forget the bloody pills.

...