Their answers revealed that happiness was contagious, with someones good mood tending to rub off on their companions.

London - While we count down the days until Christmas and the national groanathon that is cheap crackers over turkey and all the trimmings, children everywhere are dispensing terrible humour online.

Strangely, however, they're often genuinely funny.

Bad Kids Jokes (sic) is a blog run anonymously by someone who claims also to have a website for good kids' jokes.

The explanation on the site reads: “A lot of joke submissions can't be published because they're offensive… or they don't make sense… so I publish them here instead.”

The moderator insists the jokes are unedited and genuine, a claim he or she repeated in response to questions from The Independent.

Many are too rude to repeat here, but a selection of the best worst gags follows, reproduced word for word from the site,, without the benefit of a spell-check.

If someone doesn't turn these into a book or range of crackers, well, they must smell of poo.

Q. What did the banana say to the uther banana?

A. Have you got a potty because I need a pee desporatly please!

No because we are at the beach. We will need to go home by a banana taxi we dont have a car.

Q. What do you get if you cros a zombe and a persen?

A. dead!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Q. Why did the farmer sleep on his bed

A. because all the animals took his pants off

Q. What did batman say to robin before they got in the car

A. get in the car

Q. What did the women do in bed when she heard the alarm going off?

A. poo her pants

Q. Wot do you call a chiken that duz not got fethers?

A. a naked face

Q. What did the toliet say to the robot ?

A. I dont know I wasnt there was I !!!

Q. What person just talks and talks and talks


Q. Why did the baby cross the road

A. How can she cross the road she can't even walk.

Q. Why did the cow cross the road?

A. because it wanted to poo on a car.

Q. What do you put in the toaster?

A: bread.

Q. Why did the potato cross the road?

A. to get to the postbox - The Independent