As I sit here in my cliff top mansion, pondering the grim inevitability of the Reverend Lee's 400 tonne red and white lump roaring inches over my head every ten minutes for the next three hours, I'm indebted to reader Mr X for the following pilot jokes, which I shall be emailing to our local flying doctor/councillor, and raking into the Ramsgate sands, as soon as said lump appears:
Q: How many pilots does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Just one. He holds the bulb and the world revolves around him.
Q: How do you know if a pilot is at your party?
A: He'll tell you.
Q: How do you know when you're half way through a date with a pilot?
A: Because he says: 'That's enough about flying, let's talk about me!'