Archive for July, 2007
On Christmas morning, a cop on horseback was sitting at a traffic light. Next to him was a kid on his shiny new bike.
The cop said to the kid, “Nice bike you’ve got there. Did Santa bring that to you?”
The kid said, “Yeah.”
The cop said, “Well, next year tell Santa to put a taillight on that bike.” The cop then proceeded to issue the kid a $20 bicycle safety violation ticket.
The kid took the ticket, but before he rode off he said, “By the way, that’s a nice horse you got there. Did Santa bring that to you?”
Humoring the kid, the cop said, “Yeah, he sure did.”
The kid said, “Well, next year tell Santa to put the dick underneath the horse, instead of on top.”
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July 31st, 2007
John and Steve were high school buddies. They have not seen each other since they both went to college. Five years went by and they ran into each other at a bar.
John spotted Steve first, “Hey Steve!” “Hey John! Long time no see!” John was surprised that Steve spoke smoothly without stutters–Steve has been stuttering since he was a child. “How did you fix your speaking?” “I went to the doctor and he said that if I speak really slow, I won’t stutter! Did you hear? I almost got married!” “How did you ALMOST get married?”
“Well, I was sitting on the front porch with my fiance and the dog was sitting there too and he was scratching his back! Although I have to speak slow, I said to my wife: When we’re married YOU can do that for me and then I pointed to the dog. But, because I talk so slow, by then he was licking his balls!”
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July 30th, 2007
A guy walks into a bar and after only taking 2 steps in, he realizes that it’s a gay bar. He decides to proceed because he really needs a drink. A gay waiter approaches and asks: “What’s the name of your penis?”
The customers says: “Look, I’m just not into that kind of stuff. All I want is a cold beer.”
The gay waiter says: “I’m sorry but house rules dictate that I cannot serve you until you tell me the name of your penis.”
The customer says to the gay waiter: “All right….I will but first tell me the name of your penis.”
The gay waiter says: “NIKE…you know, ‘JUST DO IT!”
The customer thinks for a moment and then says: The name of my penis is ‘SECRET’.
The waiter is puzzled and asks: “SECRET? What does that mean?” The customer says: You know, SECRET…..STRONG ENOUGH FOR A MAN BUT MADE FOR A WOMAN!!!”
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July 29th, 2007
An WWII American soldier had been on the front lines in Europe for three months, when he was finally given a week of R&R. He caught a supply boat to a supply base in the south of England, then caught a train to London.
The train was extremely crowded and he could not find a seat. He was dead on his feet and walked the length of the train looking for any place to sit down. Finally he found a compartment with seats facing each other; there was room for two people on each seat. On one side sat only a proper looking, older British lady, with a small dog sitting in the empty seat beside her.
“Could I please sit in that seat?” he asked. The lady looked down her nose at the soldier, sniffed and said, “You Americans are so rude” she said, “Can’t you see my dog is sitting there?”
He walked through the train more and still could not find a seat. He found himself back at the same place. “Lady, I love dogs - have a couple at home so I would be glad to hold your dog if I can just sit down” he said. The lady wrinkled her nose and snorted, “You Americans are not only rude, you are arrogant.”
He leaned against the wall for a time, but was so tired he finally said, “Lady, I’ve been on the front lines in Europe for three months with not a decent rest for all that time. Could I just please sit there and hold your dog?” The lady replied, “You Americans are not only rude and arrogant, you are also obnoxious.”
With that comment, the soldier calmly stepped it, picked up the dog, threw it out the window and sat down. The lady was speechless.
An older neatly dressed Englishman sitting across on the other seat spoke up. “Young man, I do not know if all you Americans fit the lady’s description of you or not. But I do know that you Americans do a lot of things wrong. You drive on the wrong side of the road, you hold your fork with the wrong hand, and now you have just thrown the wrong bitch out of the window!”
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July 28th, 2007
When I was younger I hated going to weddings … it seemed that all of my aunts and the grandmotherly types used to come up to me, poking me in the ribs and cackling, telling me, ‘You’re next.’
They stopped that shit after I started doing the same thing to them at funerals.
July 27th, 2007
Two men are sitting drinking at a bar at the top of the Empire State Building, when the first man turns to the other and says “You know, last week I discovered that if you jump from the top of this building, the winds around the building are so intense that by the time you fall to the 10th floor, they carry you around the building and back into a window”. The bartender just shakes his head in disapproval while wiping the bar.
The second guy says, “What, are you nuts? There’s no way that could happen. “No, its true,” the first man says. “Let me prove it to you.” He gets up from the bar, jumps over the balcony, and plummets toward the street below. As he nears the 10th floor, the high winds whip him around the building and back into the 10th floor window and he takes the elevator back up to the bar.
He meets the second man, who looks quite astonished. “You know, I saw that with my own eyes, but that must have been a one time fluke.” “No, I’ll prove it again,” says the first man as he jumps again. Just as he is hurtling toward the street, the 10th floor wind gently carries him around the building and into the window. Once upstairs he urges his fellow drinker to try it.
“Well, why not.” the second guy says, “It works. I’ll try it.” He jumps over the balcony, plunges downward passes the 11th, 10th 9th, 8th, floors. . . . . and hits the sidewalk with a SPLAT.
Back upstairs the bartender turns to the other drinker and says, “You know Superman, you’re a real jerk when you’re drunk”.
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July 26th, 2007
A city slicker shoots a duck out in the country. As he’s retrieving it, a farmer walks up and stops him, claiming that since the duck is on his farm, it technically belongs to him. After minutes of arguing, the farmer proposes they settle the matter “country style.”
“What’s country style?” asks the city boy.
“Out here in the country,” the farmer says, “when two fellers have a dispute, one feller kicks the other one in the balls as hard as he can. Then that feller, why, he kicks the first one as hard as he can. And so forth. Last man standin’ wins the dispute.”
Warily the city boy agrees and prepares himself. The farmer hauls off and kicks him in the groin with all his might. The city boy falls to the ground in the most intense pain he’s ever felt, crying like a baby and coughing up blood. Finally he staggers to his feet and says, “All right, n-now it’s–it’s m-my turn.”
The farmer grins. “Aw, hell, you win. Keep the duck.”
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July 25th, 2007
A shy gentleman was preparing to board a plane when he heard that the Pope was on the same flight.
“This is exciting,” thought the gentleman. I’ve always been a big fan of the Pope. Perhaps I’ll be able to see him in person. Imagine his surprise when the Pope sat down in the seat next to him for the flight. Still, the gentleman was too shy to speak to the Pontiff.
Shortly after take-off, the Pope began a crossword puzzle. This is fantastic, thought the gentleman. I’m really good at crosswords. Perhaps, if the Pope gets stuck, he’ll ask me for assistance.
Almost immediately, the Pope turned to the gentleman and said, “Excuse me, but do you know a four letter word referring to a woman that ends in ‘u-n-t’?”
Only one word leapt to mind…my goodness, thought the gentleman, I can’t tell the Pope that. There must be another. The gentleman thought for quite a while, then it hit him. Turning to the pope, the gentleman said, “I think you’re looking for the word ‘aunt’.”
“Of course,” said the Pope. “Do you have an eraser?”
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July 24th, 2007
Our story begins at the Olympics, specifically the wrestling event. It is narrowed down to the Russian or the American for the gold medal. Before the final match, the American wrestler’s trainer comes to him and says, “Now don’t forget all the research we’ve done on this Russian. He’s never lost a match because of this “pretzel” hold he has. Whatever you do, don’t let him get you in this hold! If he does, you’re finished!”
The wrestler nods in agreement.
Now, to the match: The American and the Russian circle each other several times looking for an opening. All of a sudden the Russian lunges forward, grabbing the American and wrapping him up in the dreaded pretzel hold. A sigh of disappointment goes up from the crowd, and the trainer buries his face in his hands for he knows all is lost. He can’t watch the ending.
Suddenly there’s a scream, a cheer from the crowd, and the trainer raises his eye just in time to see the Russian flying up in the air. The Russian’s back hits the mat with a thud, and the American weakly collapses on top of him, getting the pin and winning the match.
The trainer is astounded! When he finally gets the American wrestler alone, he asks, “How did you ever get out of that hold? No one has ever done it before!” The wrestler answers, “Well, I was ready to give up when he got me in that hold, but at the last moment, I opened my eyes and saw this pair of balls right in front of my face. I thought I had nothing to lose, so with my last ounce of strength I stretched out my neck and bit those babies just as hard as I could. You’d be amazed how strong you get when you bite your own balls!”
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July 23rd, 2007
One Sunday morning George burst into the living room and said, “Dad! Mom! I have some great news for you! I am getting married to the most beautiful girl in town. She lives a block away and her name is Susan.
After dinner, George’s dad took him aside, “Son, I have to talk with you.” “Look at your mother, George. She and I have been married 30 years, she’s a wonderful wife and mother, but, she has never offered much excitement in the bedroom, so I used to fool around with women a lot. Susan is actually your half sister, and I’m afraid you can’t marry her.”
George was broken-hearted. After eight months he eventually started dating girls again. A year later he came home and very proudly announced, “Dianne said yes! We’re getting married in June.”
Again his father insisted on another private conversation and broke the sad news. “Dianne is your half sister too, George. I’m awfully sorry about this.”
George was livid! He finally decided to go to his mother with the news his father had shared.
“Dad has done so much harm. I guess I’m never going to get married,” he complained. “Every time I fall in love, dad tells me the girl is my half sister.”
“Heheh,” his mother chuckled, shaking her head, “don’t pay any attention to what he says. He’s not really your father.”
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July 22nd, 2007
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