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An older man wasn't feeling well, and went to his doctor. The doctor ran all kinds of tests, then brought the man in for a consultation.
"I have bad news and worse news for you" said the doctor, "which would you like first?" "The worse news first" replied the man. "you have AIDS" the doctor said. "Oh no! Not AIDS! What am I going to do?" the man was hysterical. Finally he calmed down and asked the doctor what the bad news was. "You have Alzheimer's" the doctor told him. "Well, at least I don't have AIDS" said the man. |
A man took his wife to the doctor. After many tests, the doctor told the husband "we're not sure if she has Alzheimer's or AIDS".
The husband the doctor what he should do. "drive her across town and leave her there" replied the doctor, "and if she makes it home, don't fuck her." |
Three old black ladies were preparing for their first plane flight.
The first lady said, "I don't know bout y'all, but I'm gonna wear me some hot pink panties on dis flight." "Why you gonna wear dat?" the other two asked. The first replied, "Cause, if dat plane goes down and I'm out dere laying butt-up in a corn field, dey gonna find me first." The second lady says, "Well, I'm gonna wear me some fluorescent orange panties." "Why you gonna wear dem?" the others asked. The second lady answered: "Cause if dat plane goes down and I'm floating butt-up in the ocean, dey can see me first." The third old lady says, "Well, I'm not going to wear any panties at all." "What, no panties?!" the others said in disbelief. "Dat's right," says the third lady. "I'm not wearing any panties, cause if dat plane goes down, the first thing they always looks for is da black box.!! |
What's the worst thing to be? Scots/Irish.
The Irish part wants to drink all the liquor, and the Scottish part doesn't want to pay for any of it. |
How do you confuse a Polack?
Place 3 shovels on the ground and tell him "Take your pick." |
it's from George Carlin so you KNOW it's funny...
New Rules For 2006 - George Carlin
New Rule : Stop giving me that pop-up ad for classmates.com. There's a reason you don't talk to people for 25 years. Because you don't particularly like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days: mowing my lawn. New Rule: Don't eat anything that's served to you out a window unless you're a seagull. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of Wendy's chili. Hey, it cost less than a dollar. What did you expect it to contain? Trout? New Rule: Stop saying that teenage boys who have sex with their hot, blonde teachers are permanently damaged. I have a better description for these kids: lucky bastards. New Rule: If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're a dope. If you're a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols. If you're a grown man , they're pictures of men. New Rule: Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: do you have two of them? Okay, we're done. New Rule: There's no such thing as flavored water. There's a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket, water, but without that watery taste. Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink. You want flavored water? Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water. New Rule: Stop fucking with old people. Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that's square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the bottom. And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis. New Rule: The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the asshole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a "decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet," ooh, you're a huge asshole. New Rule: I'm not the cashier! By the time I look up from sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing "Enter," verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don't want cash back, and pressing "Enter" again, the kid who is supposed to be ringing me up is standing there eating my Almond Joy. New Rule: Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass. And it translates to "beef with broccoli." The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just high. New Rule: Competitive eating isn't a sport. It's one of the seven deadly sins. ESPN recently televised the US Open of Competitive Eating, because watching those athletes at the poker table was just too damned exciting. What's next, competitive farting? Oh wait. They're already doing that. It's called "The Howard Stern Show." New Rule: I don't need a bigger mega M&M. If I'm extra hungry for M&Ms, I'll go nuts and eat two. New Rule: If you're going to insist on making movies based on crappy, old television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what's playing on the other screens. Let's remember the reason something was a television show in the first place is that the idea wasn't good enough to be a movie. New Rule: No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for wedd ings. Now it's for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab. Picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn't gift giving, it's the white people version of looting. New Rule: and this one is long overdue: No more bathroom attendants. After I zip up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex with George Michael. I can't even tell if he's supposed to be there, or just some freak with a fetish. I don't want to be on your webcam, dude. I just want to wash my hands. New Rule: When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't need to know in months. "27 Months." "He's two," will do just fine. He's not a cheese. And I didn't really care in the first place. |
An elderly man has just moved to a new town, when he is taken ill and decides that he needs to see a doctor.
In the waiting room at the surgery, he tries to find out a bit about the doctor. He asks the man sitting next to him if the doctor is a specialist. The man replies that the doctor specializes in everything. The elderly man thinks about this and looks nervous. He asks the man if the doctor's fees are expensive. The man says: "Well, he is and he isn't. You see, he charges you one thousand dollars for your first visit. The elderly man looks even more worried now and exclaims in amazement, "A thousand dollars?" The man replies, "Yes, but all your visits after that for the rest of your life are free!" The elderly man thinks about this, and then gets called by the nurse to go in to see the doctor. On entering the doctor's office he says casually, "Hi Doc, here I am again!" |
This will warm your heart, especially if you have lost faith in human kindness. This letter was sent to the principal's office after an elementary school had sponsored a luncheon for the elderly.
An old lady had received a new radio at the lunch as a door prize, and was writing to say thank you. This story is a credit to all human kind. Forward to anyone you know who might need a lift today! Dear Faculty and Students, God bless you for the beautiful radio I won at your recent senior citizens' luncheon. I am 84 years old and live at an Assisted Home for the Aged. All of my family has passed away. I am all alone now and it's nice to know someone is thinking of me. God bless you for your kindness to an old forgotten lady. My roommate is 95 and always had her own radio. Before I received this one, she would never let me listen to hers, even when she was napping. The other day, her radio fell off the night stand and broke into a lot of little pieces. It was awful and she was in tears. She asked if she could listen to mine, and I said fuck you. Thank you for that opportunity. Sincerely, Agnes |
What do you call a sheep with a runny nose?
Full. What do you call a Scotsman with a sheep over each shoulder? A pimp. |
I can't remember if I told this one on here or not, and i'm not about to re read 45 pages, so if it's a repeat......suck it.
up Timmy and his Grandpa are out fishing one day on the lake. Timmy is 10 or so. About 1/2 hour into the trip, Grandpa takes out a beer and ~ppfffttt! ~ cracks it open. He takes a sip, and sighs with satisfaction. It looks so cold and good, Timmy asks, " Hey, Grandpa! Can I have a sip of that beer?" To which Grandpa replies, "Well, let me ask you a question. Can you touch your asshole with the tip of your dick?" Timmy is appalled, and taken aback. "No, I can't Grandpa. I'm only ten! And that's gross!" "Well, until you're old enough to do that, I'm a fraid I can't share my beer with you." Timmy is unhappy, but understands. Another half hour goes by, and Grandpa takes out a Robusto Cigar, lights it, and puffs away happily with it between his teeth. Enjoying the smell, Timmy asks, "Hey Grandpa, Can I have a puff of your cigar?" To which Grandpa replies, "Well, let me ask you a question. Can you touch your asshole with the tip of your dick?" Timmy is appalled, and taken aback. "No, I can't Grandpa. I'm only ten! And that's gross!" "Well, until you're old enough to do that, I'm a fraid I can't share my cigar with you." Yet another half hour goes by, and Timmy takes out his baggie of oreo cookies. Grandpa sees him enjoying their chocolatey goodness, and asks, " Hey Timmy, can I have one of your Oreos?" To which Timmy replies, "Well, let me ask you a question, Grandpa. Can you touch your asshole with the tip of your dick?" Grandpa puffs up a bit, and says proudly, "Why Yes. Yes I can." So Timmy says, "Good! Go FUCK YOURSELF! These are MY Oreos!" |
:right:
Brain Inactivity While visiting his niece, an elderly man had what was apparently a stroke. The woman drove wildly to get him to the emergency room. After what seemed like a very long wait, the E.R. doctor appeared, wearing his scrubs and a long face. Sadly, he said, "I'm afraid that your uncle's brain shows no sign of activity, but his heart is still beating." "Oh, dear," cried the woman, her hands clasped against her cheeks with shock. "We've never had a Republican in the family before!" |
A social worker visited an elderly lady. They were having such a nice conversation that he stayed talking with her for so long that he began to feel hungry. He saw a bowl of peanuts on the coffee table, and asked the lady if he could have some. "help yourself" she said. They talked more, as he ate peanuts, and as he got up to got up to go he apologized for eating all of her peanuts. "Don't worry" she said, "ever since my teeth went bad, I've only been able to suck the chocolate off the outside."
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Aug. 12 - Moved to our new home in Canada. I am so excited. It's so beautiful here. The mountains are so majestic. Can hardly wait to see them with snow covering them.
Oct. 14 - Canada--it is the most beautiful place on earth. The leaves have turned all colors and shades of red and orange. Went for a ride through the beautiful countryside and saw some deer. They are so graceful. Certainly they are the most wonderful animals on earth. This must be paradise. I love it here! Nov. 11 - Remembrance Day. Deer season starts soon. I can't imagine anyone wanting to kill such a gorgeous creature. Hope it snows soon. I love it here! Dec. 2 - It snowed last night. Woke up to find everything blanketed with white. It looks like a postcard. We went outside and cleaned the snow off the steps and shoveled the driveway. We had a snowball fight (I won). When the snow plough came by we had to shovel the driveway again. What a beautiful place. I love Canada! Dec. 12 - More snow last night. The snow plough did his trick again to the driveway. I love it here. Dec. 19 - More snow last night. Couldn't get out of the driveway to get to work. It's beautiful here but I'm exhausted from shoveling. Fucking snow plough. Dec. 22 - More of that white shit fell last night. I've got blisters on my hands and a sore back from shoveling. I think the snow plough hides around the corner until I'm done shoveling the driveway. Asshole. Dec. 25 - Merry Fucking Christmas! More frigging snow. If I ever get my hands on the sonovabitch who drives the snow plough, I swear I'll kill the bastard. Don't know why they don't use more salt on the roads to melt the fucking ice. Dec. 27 - More white shit last night. Been inside for three days now except for shoveling out the driveway after that snow plough goes through every time. Can't go anywhere, the car's stuck in a mountain of white shit and it's so frigging cold. The weatherman says to expect another 10 inches of the shit again tonight. Do you know how many shovels full of snow 10 inches is? Dec. 28 - That fucking weatherman was wrong. We got 34 inches of the shit this time. At this rate it won't melt before summer. The snow plough got stuck up in the road and that bastard came to my door and asked to borrow my shovel. After I told him that I had already broken six shovels shoveling out all the shit he had pushed into my driveway, I damn near broke my last one over his fucking head. Jan. 4 - Finally got out of the house today. Went to the store to get food and on my way back a damned deer ran in front of the car. Did about $3,000 damage to the car. Those fucking beasts should be killed. The bastards are everywhere. Wish the hunters had exterminated them all last November. May 3 - Took the car to the garage in town. Would you believe the thing is rusted out from all that fucking salt they put all over the roads. May 10 - Moved to Florida. I can't imagine why anyone in their right mind would ever want to live in such a God forsaken place as Canada! |
A blonde was speeding in a 35 mile per hour zone when a local police cruiser pulled her over and the officer walked up to the car. The female Police officer also happened to be a blonde and she asked for the blonde's driver's license.
The driver searched frantically in her purse for a while and finally said to the blonde policewoman "What does a driver's license look like?" Irritated, the blonde cop said "It's got your picture on it!" The blonde driver frantically searched her purse again and found a small rectangular mirror down at the bottom. She held it up to her face and said, "Aha! This must be my driver's license" and handed it to the blonde policewoman. The blonde cop looked in the mirror, handed it back to the driver and said, "You're free to go. And, if I had known you were a police officer too, we could have avoided all this hassle." |
How To Clean A Toilet, The "FUN" Way ...
1. Put both lids of the toilet up and add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the water in the bowl. 2. Pick up the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the bathroom. 3. In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close both lids. You may need to stand on the lid. 4. The cat will self agitate and make ample suds. Never mind the noises that come from the toilet, the cat is actually enjoying this. 5. Flush the toilet three or four times. This provides a "power-wash" and rinse". 6. Have someone open the front door of your home. Be sure that there are no people between the bathroom and the front door. 7. Stand behind the toilet as far as you can, and quickly lift both lids. 8. The cat will rocket out of the toilet, streak through the bathroom, and run outside where he will dry himself off. 9. Both the commode and the cat will be sparkling clean. Sincerely, The Dog |
A funny thing happend to me the other day and I thought this might be the best place to post it. This is way too long but maybe worth the time to read.
As some of you may know, I am in full blown active protest mode over a variety of automobile related costs and hassles and ride my bike most everywhere nowdays. Many of you know me in person and can attest to my strangeness in general and this story will be all that much more real. My temporary "home" is exactly five miles from the office. It just worked out that way by chance at the beggining of this conrtract but has come to be perfect for my routine. I do own a car and it runs although it's not in great shape. I've parked it in one of the larger parking lots near work and check on it once in a while. The situation is that it's unsafe to drive so I just keep it around in it's current condition until it's time to relocate and then some moderate work will make it all better. Most of the time my work day starts at 5 am so leaving home at 4 am with a 5 mile ride is the norm. This is obviously not something that you want to attempt at home and poses some serious inconveniences. It also has some spectacular health and fitness benefits which is about half of the reason that the bike is my transportation tool. The other half is that I havent bought gas since August 05. F-U-C-K um. I dont need their gas. Not now anyway. This routine has been the norm for me for the last 6 months or so, so when things happen like this event....it's a surprise. 4:15am North Cincy slang: (pedalling in the cold but thick early morning air) Thinking to self:....ok now I need this to complete this job for so and so....and so and so owe's me this then I can that.... (passes one empty street.......pedalling, pedalling.....then another...) ( cop car passes me slowly....) (passes one empty street.......pedalling, pedalling.....then another...) (cop pulls a car over in the distance) slang: (sees the lights flashing) Ha! <sarcasm> What the hell are you doing out this early in the morning anyway.....huh!!???.....huh!!?? </sarcasm> (passes one empty street.......pedalling, pedalling.....then another...) (passes the car with all the lights shining brightly right into my fucking eyes...shields eyes from the bright light) (passes one empty street.......pedalling, pedalling.....then another...) (cop car passes me .....slowly.....again....turns around.....comes back around) (drives up to the curb in the opposite direction, stops and hits the lights) slang: (looks behind himself looking in disbelief that he's getting pulled over on a bicycle...and stops ) HUH?? (pulls thinsulate ski mask off) cop: (Gets out of the cruiser) Excuse me sir....can I see some ID? slang: ( points finger at self as if to say....who ME? ) cop: Yes, I'm new on third shift and I've not seen too many people out on bikes at 4:20am when it's 25 degrees out. Can I see your ID please? slang: (starts laughing uncontrollably....holds hands high) I have NEVER been pulled over on a BIKE!! slang: ( gets ID out of wallet ) So.....ya never saw a man cruising on a bike at 4:20 am in 25 degree weather, eh? Well, ya MUST be new cuz I do this 5 days a week ( still laughing....tearing.....shaking from laughter ) I can tell you......it's better at 25 degrees than it is at 0. (hands over ID) cop: ( humors the obviously crazy man and smiles politely as he runs the license ) Sure.....I'm sure it is. cop: So....where ya off to this early in the morning? On a bike.....in 25 degree weather? slang: Ohh....just out enjoying the weather. ( breaks out laughing again ) No, no...really....I'm going to work. ( Pulls the corp secure ID from holder ...shows the cop) cop: (nods affirmative after seeing the corp ID) So yer trying to save a little money....gotcha. slang: I'm out of breath, cold and a bit freaked that I've just been tagged on a bike. To avoid sounding like a complete DUMBASS I'll let you ask the questions instead of trying to explain my routine here. cop radio: Da-de-du-bleep...slang...rural Pa last known address....37, white male.....no warrants, no arrests, no convictions....<not really> eats his veggies and gets regular exercise</not really> cop: No, you dont have to explain a thing Mr Slang....I dont want to keep you from your commute....sorry to have botherd you. slang: No problem ( breaks out laughing again....pulls ski mask on) I'm sure you'll see me again. Have a nice day. ( pedals off down the street again passing a man walking ) man walking: Wad dat cop want wid you, man? Sheeat. Nothin' better to do than hassle us little people. slang: Just us little people biking in the winter man, just the bikers. So later after getting to work..... co-worker: Running a bit late today slang? slang: Yah, I got pulled over....running a bit later than normal. co-worker: ( I thought you ride a bike) confused. |
slightly o/t. sorry, but is that legal? I keep hearing this thing about America being the "free-est" country yet that would not be tolerated in "socialist" UK. it's not like cycling in ridiculous temperatures a known terrorist activity, so I don't think the patriot act should cover it...... :eyebrow:
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oh, I left out that there was a plasma TV on my back.
just kidding |
I got stoped on a bike by a cop with a radar gun ,
Cop yelling "PULL OVER !!!!!" Me " can I help you officer ??" Cop " do you know how fast you were going ?? Me " No sir " Cop " you were doing 45 in a 30 mph zone !!" Me " WOW!!! 45 !!!! " Cop " yeh , 45 , now let me see your licence " Me " Sir , I don't have a licence, thats why I'm on a bike " Cop " Well I am going to have to give you a ticket ANY WAY !!! " Me " Uhh , Sir , I don't if that's legal " Cop " I'll be the judge of that !!!!!!" so he writes me a ticket , and I ride off shakeing my head . I get home and show the ticket to me Mother , she laughs and calls the lawyer , He Laughes harder , and askes when the cort apperence is , Mom tells him , he says BE THERE . We show up at the appointed time and place , The judge looks at the ticket and laughes !!! The Cop is there , and the judge asks him to show him just Where in ANY law book it says he has the right to give me a ticket for speeding on a bike !! He then tares up the ticket and says "Case Dismissed !!!!" SLAM !!! SO slang it CAN Happen !!!! |
I can't believe it! You can't get a ticket while riding your bike on a public street? Over here i got two tickets while on the bike, on for driving too fast (67km/h instead of 50km/h) and one for dangerous driving (60km/h instead of 50km/h and bypassing a bus which was driving not that fast). Everybody on a public street has to drive as the law says, whatever he's driving with...
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bad :cop: = no :donut:
:lol: |
The dog's diary:
7 am - Oh boy! A walk! My favorite! 8 am- Oh boy! Dog food! My favorite! 9 am- Oh boy! The kids! My favorite! Noon- Oh boy! The yard! My favorite! 2 pm- Oh boy! A car ride! My favorite! 3 pm- Oh boy! The kids! My favorite! 4 pm- Oh boy! Playing ball! My favorite! 6 pm- Oh boy! Welcome home Mom! My favorite! 7 pm- Oh boy! Welcome home Dad! My favorite! 8 pm- Oh boy! Dog food! My favorite! 9 pm- Oh boy! Tummy rubs on the couch! My favorite! 11 pm- Oh boy! Sleeping in my people's bed! My favorite! The cat's diary: Day 183 of my captivity... My captors continued to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from clawing the furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another house plant. Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded. Maybe I should try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair - must try this on their bed. Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body in an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little kitty cat I was. This is not working according to plan. There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More important, I overheard that my confinement was due to my powers of inducing something called "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage. I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant. He speaks with them regularly, and I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured. But I can wait. It's only a matter of time. |
yeah, well back in Kansas I got a couple of speeding tickets on my bike.. although I have never and wil never pay them...
Q.) how many flies does it take to screw in a lightbulb A.) two, but how did they get in there? Q.) how many surrealists does it take to screw in a lightbulb? A.) Fish Q.) what do you call a Bass player that just broke up with his girlfriend? A.) Homeless |
You can be done for speeding on a bicycle in the UK. Even a lawnmower. But you can't be pulled over just for being a bit unusual. Not any more. Not like in the good old days where we all relied on the local copper to give our kids a clip round the lughole and send them home with a flea in their ear if they got out of order. ;)
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Ah, I knew I had read about people in skates getting tickets but I don't remember where I read it. But I was able to google this.
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Tony B, the famous English radio DJ, was at the top of his career and enjoying driving his new shiny convertible Jaguar.
As he cruised through a quaint little English village he noticed a rather attractive young girl waiting for a bus. She had a beautiful figure and long blonde hair, and he just couldn’t resist offering her a lift. He pulled alongside and stopped the car: ‘Hi!’ said Tony, removing his sunglasses ‘do you know who I am…?’ ‘Oooh,’ giggled the girl, ‘It’s not, you’re, no, you can’t be, yes you are – you’re Tony B’ The girl screamed and jumped up and down clapping her hands. ‘Oh, Tony, you’re my favourite DJ! I listen to your programme every day. I can’t believe it’s really you!’ ‘Well, it is, and how about me giving such a devoted fan a lift….?’ Before he could finish, the blonde had opened the car and jumped in next to Tony. Tony pulled away. ‘Oooh, Tony,’ said the girl, ‘you really are my favourite – I’d do anything for you, you know, I really would…’ ‘Is that so…. Well I think this may be your lucky day.’ And with that he undid his trouser fly and whipped out his John Thomas. The girl’s eyes bulged and she whimpered slightly: ‘Oooh, Tony, I didn’t expect this. I’m not sure if I can. I mean, I’ve never done anything like this before. I might not do it right.’ ‘Of course you will.’ said Tony. ‘Just do as I tell you. All you have to do is grab it in both hands, get the old mouth down to it and, well, I guess I don’t have to say any more, do I’ ‘Oooh, I’m not sure. Are you sure it will be all right? Only I’m worried I might do something wrong.’ ‘What can go wrong. Go on have a go.’ ‘All right then,’ said the girl and moved her hands around and clasped the object raised in front of her. ‘That’s it.’ said Tony. ‘Now get your mouth down to it.’ ‘OK’ and the girl bent down and put her lips close to his member and in a small but purposeful voice said: ‘Hello mum... Hello dad…!’ |
A Message from Osama
After numerous rounds of "We don't know if Osama is still alive", Osama
himself decided to send Ted Kennedy a letter in his own handwriting to let him know he was still in the game. Kennedy opened the letter and it appeared to contain a single line of coded message: 370HSSV-0773H Kennedy was baffled, so he e-mailed it to John Kerry. Kerry and his aides had no clue either, so they sent it to the FBI. No one could solve it at the FBI so it went to the CIA, then to the NSA. With no clue as to its meaning, the FBI finally asked Britain's MI-6 for help. Within a minute MI-6 cabled back with this reply: "Tell the FBI that Kennedy's holding the message upside down." |
A tour bus driver is driving with a bus load of seniors down a highway when he is tapped on his shoulder by a little old lady. She offers him a handful of peanuts, which he gratefully munches up.
After about 15 minutes, she taps him on his shoulder again and she hands him another handful of peanuts. She repeats this gesture about five more times. When she is about to hand him another batch again he asks the little old lady why they don't eat the peanuts themselves. "We can't chew them because we've no teeth", she replied. The puzzled driver asks, "Why do you buy them then?" The old lady replied, "We just love the chocolate around them!!!" |
Umm... UT? Check post #732. :lol:
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Dag nabbit! Sorry Spexx! I swear normally I read ALL the posts...!
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Just kicking back to the cop-cycle entries a mo (sorry, only just caught it) - don't know if it's me, but damned if anyone notices my presence when pedalling.
Unfortunately, I am not alone, research reveals, and this cycle-blindness extends to motorists of every kind (as well as pedestrians) - even those driving milk floats! We are so invisible that drivers are constantly trying to take us out unwittingly - although there are also who do so deliberately. We have token cycle annexes - nice little patches of white lines along the edge of the road - never a complete line from one point to another, just randomly placed ones covering only a very short distance that generally coincide with where the edge of the road is at its least friendly (drain covers, potholes, that sort of thing) - and motorists don't take any notice of them anyway. If they're not driving into them then they will certainly park in them - or on us. Much as I would like to, my cycle commute to work and back is limited to summer (inter-equinox) time - I wouldn't dare chance the roads around here once the light has failed. As one Frenchman I met, just come back from a brief cycle tour of southern England, so aptly put it: 'In France the cyclist is sacred - in England he is the sacrifice!' That just about sums it up. |
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When I come with my bike to visit, can I bring some turret looking bike accessory (non-functional of course ) so as not to be totally consumed with the French attitude? Maybe wave a big US flag and shoot some animals too? Talk shit about the UN and walk around piss drunk? :D I dont speak French either, muchless perfectly grammatically correct French. |
I was actually describing southern England, but, bar the US flag bit, all that you propose sounds pretty French to me. You should fit in well - just remember to sprinkle the word 'merde' liberally into your sentences and your lack of language will pass unnoticed... oh, and over-doing it on the garlic can also help...
BTW, I'd go for the fully functionning turret if I were you - check out MP and the Holy Grail French Castle scene for verification... Trust also you have checked out my web site..... |
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She spent the first day packing her personal belongings into boxes, crates, and suitcases.
On the second day, she had the movers come to collect her things. On the third day, she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining room table by candlelight, put on some soft background music, and feasted on a pound of shrimp, a jar of caviar, and a bottle of Chardonnay. When she had finished, she went into each and every room and deposited a few half-eaten shrimp shells dipped in caviar, into the hollow of the curtain rods. She then cleaned up the kitchen and left. When the husband returned with his new girlfriend, all was bliss for the first few days. Then slowly, the house began to smell. They tried everything, cleaning, mopping, and airing the place out. Vents were checked for dead rodents, and carpets were steam cleaned. Air fresheners were hung everywhere. Exterminators were brought in to set off gas canisters, during which they had to move out for a few days, and in the end they even paid to replace the expensive wool carpeting. Nothing worked. People stopped coming over to visit. Repairmen refused to work in the house. The maid quit. Finally, they could not take the stench any longer and decided to move. A month later, even though they had cut their price in half, they could not find a buyer for their stinky house. Word got out, and eventually, even the local Realtors refused to return their calls. Finally, they had to borrow a huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a new place. The ex-wife called the man, and asked how things were going. He told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely, and said that she missed her old home terribly, and would be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for getting the house back. Knowing his ex-wife had no idea how bad the smell was, he agreed on a price that was about 1/10 of what the house had been worth, but only if she were to sign the papers that very day. She agreed, and within the hour his lawyers delivered the paperwork. A week later the man and his girlfriend stood smiling as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to their new home, including the curtain rods. :right: |
Harry came into the office an hour late for the third time in a week. "What's the story this time, Harry?" his boss asked sarcastically. "Let's hear a good excuse for a change."
Harry sighed, "Everything went wrong this morning, boss. The wife decided to drive me to the station. She got ready in ten minutes, but then the draw bridge got stuck. I swam across the river--see, my suit's still damp--ran out to the airport, got a ride on Mr. Trump's helicopter, landed on top of Radio City Music Hall, and was carried here piggyback by one of the Rockettes." "You'll have to do better than that, Harry," said the boss. "No woman can get ready in ten minutes!":lol: |
Wally's wedding night At 85 years of age, Wally married Lou Anne, a lovely 25 year old.
Since her new husband is so old, Lou Anne decides that after their wedding she and Wally should have separate bedrooms, because she is concerned that her new but aged husband may overexert himself if they spend the entire night together. After the wedding festivities Lou Anne prepares herself for bed and the expected "knock" on the door. Sure enough the knock comes, the door opens and there is Wally, her 85 year old groom, ready for action. They unite as one. All goes well, Wally takes leave of his bride, and she prepares to go to sleep. After a few minutes, Lou Anne hears another knock on her bedroom door, and it's Wally. Again he is ready for more "action". Somewhat surprised, Lou Anne consents for more coupling. When the newlyweds are done, Wally kisses his bride, bids her a fond goodnight and leaves. She is set to go to sleep again, but, aha you guessed it - Wally is back again, rapping on the door, and is as fresh as a 25-year-old, ready for more "action". And, once again they enjoy each other. But as Wally gets set to leave again, his young bride says to him, "I am thoroughly impressed that at your age you can perform so well and so often. I have been with guys less than a third of your age who were only good once. You are truly a great lover, Wally." Wally, somewhat embarrassed, turns to Lou Anne and says: .........."You mean I was here already?" ----------------------- The moral of the story: Senior moments have their advantages. I can't post attachments... So I will have try later for the funny images not related to above joke. |
It was a lively night in the revival tent, and Reverend Johnson was gripped with the power of the Spirit.
"I tell you all, the Lord is with us tonight! I can feel His power running through me! There's gonna be a healing tonight! Who needs healing?! Stand up, and tell the audience your name!" A stooped old woman slowly struggled to her feet with the assistance of her crutches. "Reverend, my name is Mrs. Smith, and I have always had to use these crutches to walk." "Well, sister, come on up here, and feel the healing power of the Lord!" As she slowly made her way to the stage, a young man stood up. "Reverend, my name ith Mithter Joneth, and I have alwaith thpoken with a lithp." "Well, Mr. Jones, come up to the stage and stand next to Mrs. Smith!" "Now, Mrs. Smith," said the preacher, putting his hands on her head, "feel the *power* of the Lord!" The preacher quivered for a moment, then said, "Now, Mrs. Smith, go behind that screen and pray to the Lord, and you shall be healed!" Mrs. Smith painfully walked behind the screen with on her crutches. "Mr. Jones, feel the power of the Lord," said the preacher, again placing his hands on the head of the subject. After quivering even more than the first time, he said, "Mister Jones, go behind that screen and pray with Mrs. Smith!" There was a soft murmur from the crowd as the minutes slowly ticked by, the preacher alternately gazing up to the sky, wringing his hands, and pacing back and forth in a near frenzy. Finally, he spoke. "Mrs. Smith! I want you to throw your left crutch over the screen!" The audience gasped as the left crutch sailed over the screen and clattered on the stage. "Now, Mrs. Smith, I want you to throw your right crutch over the screen!" The audience cheered loudly as the right crutch came flying over the screen. "Now, Mr. Jones, say something in a loud, clear voice so everyone can hear you!" "MITTITH SMITH JUTH FELL ON HER ATH!" |
The Indian camp was like any other, As boys, the braves would learn their various customs: how to make and throw a tomahawk, how to track buffalo and deer, and also how to build a teepee.
Sadly not all were good at the last task, and one particular brave was really no good at all. Whereas everyone else’s tepee was strong and tall and tightly bound with blankets and hides, there was one brave whose tepee was… well, just a mess really. The branches that took the weight sagged where they should have been strong, and he never did quite get it together when it came to securing the covering. It just sort of flapped in the breeze. Needless to say, when it rained, the teepee leaked. And even the interior was bad. Just a single buffalo hide on the ground, from a very old buffalo as well, quite thin and barely capable to keep the dirt at bay. And so it was that the brave acquired a new name: Poor Tent. And Poor Tent never really was admired by the rest of the tribe, in fact he had to live on the perimeter of the camp, away from all the others. The thought of having their nice clean, dry, strong teepees next door to the sad and desperate construction that Poor Tent made was just not acceptable. Seems that neighbour problems were as strong then as they are today! Now the chief of this tribe was blessed with three daughters, and their father was very proud of his young girl squaws. They did everything together, That is until that age arrived when all young Indian girls started to think of their future as the wife of a brave. For two of the squaws this presented no problem for their father, for they were attracted to two of the strongest braves in the tribe, but the third and youngest (and somewhat his favourite), Little Running Deer by name, just fell in love with Poor Tent. Her father was angry. He did not know what to do to try to stop her and so he threatened to banish her. But Little Running Deer’s love was strong, and Poor Tent loved her too. And so it was that the chief’s youngest squaw left her family to join her loved one and live on the perimeter of the camp, resting on the sad buffalo hide inside Poor Tent’s teepee, while her sisters enjoyed living inside the camp in the luxury of their teepees, and resting on their grand and thick buffalo hides.. Time passed and the three squaws had babies. Three healthy sons, one each. And those healthy sons grew to be strong young boys. But even still, Poor Tent and Little Running Deer were never permitted to return to the camp. Still they lived outside on the perimeter. The years passed and the sons reached their teenage years, and began to learn to hunt - how to stalk the buffalo and deer as their fathers had also learned before them. And so it was one day, that all three sons found themselves tracking the same buffalo. A huge beast it was, and one of the largest in the herd, They stalked it quietly and stealthily. Unbeknown to them, their chief (and grandfather) was there also watching them from behind. All went well as they moved gradually closer to the beast, but then suddenly, the buffalo found their scent. He looked at them snorting and stamping the ground with his hooves. And then, in a moment he charged. The first two sons soon realised that the buffalo was going to charge right into them all, and they turned and ran, but Poor Tent’s son caught sight of his grandfather and realised that if he moved from the animal’s path then the buffalo would surely kill the chief. With little time to spare, Poor Tent’s son raised his bow that he was carrying and drew and fired in quick succession three arrows straight at and into the buffalo about the neck head and chest. The beast pulled back momentarily, but then seemed to be even angrier at this assault and charged again. Another three arrows, one ,two, three, and as each one hit, the buffalo eased and then resumed his charge. With no more then a mere few yards left, Poor Tent’s son released his last and final arrow. Fast true and hard it sped towards its target and buried itself deep into the chest and heart of the buffalo, and this giant of an animal collapsed but five paces from the young brave. The young brave’s heart pounded but the chief was safe! The chief looked at the grandson who had saved his life and knew what he must do. So that evening he called all the braves and squaws to the centre of the camp where they sat in a large circle. And in the middle of the circle were laid the hides from the teepees of the three fathers. And behind each hide a mother stood, each of the three chief’s daughters. And on each one of the hides a squaw’s son sat. And the chief appeared and addressed his tribe, telling them of the danger he had faced and how but one brave had saved him. And when he had finished his tale. He stopped and looked at Poor Tent who was standing next to Little Running bear now, and then turned again to his tribe and said: ‘Today, Poor Tent and his family will return to the tribe because of his son’s bravery. For so it must be, no longer must they be cast outside our tribe, for Poor Tent’s son has saved my life and proved his bravery as good as any mans, and certainly as good as, if not better than, both the other two braves together that are also sitting here. For so it shall be told and written - passed forward from generation to generation for all to know from this day forward – the son of the squaw on the hide Poor Tent uses, is equal to the sons of the squaws on the other two hides!’ (Just think about it….) |
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I feel really bad... but I don't get it.
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*coughpythagoreantheoremcough*
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Ohhh.... I get it now. :lol:
Thanks!! |
long way to go for a bad pun.
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Well till I went back and reread. I was lost. Years ago I cound really shine as a pipefitter because of this. Think in early 80s I paid around 10 bucks for a calculator which would do this. Forgot the name, think it was a model 509 or 510. I never learned to do this on paper or by the trig tables in back of pipefitters books. Anyway you know the drill. Plus I can't spell this shit. *cough-pythagoreantheorem-cough* :smack:
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A man goes to the doctor for his yearly checkup. Doctor tells him he's sterile. Guy says, "But doc..you must be mistaken.. my wife is six months pregnant with my kid.. I can't be sterile."
Doctor says, "I have a friend that hunts. Every year, never fails. One day he goes out to hunt and he comes across a beaver's dam. He settles in and waits, and eventually, he spots the beaver coming out of the water. He goes to take aim, but realizes that instead of his gun, he had accidentally brought his umbrella. Frustrated at the beauty of the shot, but lack of ability to follow through, he pretends to take aim and shouts, 'BANG!'. And wouldn't you know it, the beaver falls over dead right there. Now how do you suppose that hapepned?" The guy says, "Well, I'd have to say someone else shot that beaver." Doc says, "My point exactly." |
A little late, but in honor of Saint Patrick's Day
Into a Belfast pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he'd just been run over by a train. His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is cut and bruised and he's walking with a limp.
"What happened to you?" asks Sean, the bartender. "Jamie O'Conner and me had a fight," says Paddy. "That little shit, O'Conner," says Sean, "He couldn't do that to you, he must have had something in his hand." "That he did," says Paddy, "a shovel is what he had, and a terrible lickin' he gave me with it." "Well," says Sean, "you should have defended yourself, didn't you have something in your hand?" "That I did," said Paddy. "Mrs. O'Conner's breast, and a thing of beauty it was, but useless in a fight." ***** An Irishman who had a little too much to drink is driving home from the city one night and, of course, his car is weaving violently all over the road. A cop pulls him over. "So," says the cop to the driver, where have ya been?" "Why, I've been to the pub of course," slurs the drunk. "Well," says the cop, "it looks like you've had quite a few to drink this evening." "I did all right," the drunk says with a smile. "Did you know," says the cop, standing straight and folding his arms across his chest, "that a few intersections back, your wife fell out of your car?" "Oh, thank heavens," sighs the drunk. "For a minute there, I thought I'd gone deaf." ***** Mary Clancy goes up to Father O'Grady after his Sunday morning service, and she's in tears. "So what's bothering you, Mary my dear?" the priest says. "Oh, Father, I've got terrible news. My husband passed away last night." "Oh, Mary, that's terrible. Tell me, Mary, did he have any last requests?" "That he did, Father." "What did he ask, Mary? “He said, 'Please Mary, put down that damn gun...’” ***** AND THE BEST FOR LAST A drunk staggers into a Catholic Church, enters a confessional booth, sits down but says nothing. The Priest coughs a few times to get his attention but the drunk continues to sit there. Finally, the Priest pounds three times on the wall. The drunk mumbles, "ain't no use knockin, there's no paper on this side either." |
What's Irish and stays out all night?
Paddy O'Furniture :rollanim: |
Italian Grandpa
An Italian-American family was considering putting their grandfather in a nursing home. All the Catholic facilities were completely full so they had to put him in a Jewish home.
After a few weeks in the Jewish facility, they came to visit Grandpa. "How do you like it here?" asks the grandson. "It's wonderful!! Everyone here is so courteous and respectful," says Grandpa. "We're so happy for you. We were worried that this was the wrong place for you." "Let me tell you about how wonderfully they treat the residents here," Grandpa says with a big smile. "There's a musician here -- he's 85-years old. He hasn't played the violin in 20 years and everyone still calls him 'Maestro'. And there's a physician here -- 90 years old. He hasn't been practicing medicine for 25 years and everyone still calls him 'Doctor'!! Also a Federal Judge, retired for over 30 years, is still addressed as 'Your Honor'. And me, I haven't had sex for 30 years and they still call me the fuckin Italian!" |
At a world brewing conventio n , the CEOs of various brewing organizations
retired to the bar at the end of each day's conference. Bruce, CEO of Fosters, shouted to the Barman: "In 'Strylya, we make the best bloody beer in the world, so pour me a bloody Fosters, mate." Auggie, CEO of Budweiser, calls out next: "In the States, we brew the finest beers of the world, and I make the king of them all, gimme a Bud." Hans steps up next: "In Germany ve invented das beer , ferdamit. Give me ein Becks, ya ist der real King of beers, danke." Paddy, CEO of Guinness, steps forward: "Barman, would ya give me a diet coke with ice and lemon? Thanks." The others stare at him in stunned silence, amazement written all over their faces. Eventually Bruce asks: "Are you not going to have a Guinness, Pat?" Paddy replies "Well, if you fookin' pansies aren't adrinkin', then neither am I. |
Ma was in the kitchen fiddling around when she hollers out....
"Pa! You need to go out and fix the outhouse!" Pa replies, "There ain't nuthin wrong with the outhouse." Ma yells back, "Yes there is, now git out there and fix it." So......Pa mosies out to the outhouse, looks around and yells back, "Ma! There ain't nuthin wrong with the outhouse! " Ma replies, "Stick yur head in the hole!" Pa yells back, "I ain't stickin my head in that hole!" Ma says, "Ya have to stick yur head in the hole to see what to fix." So with that, Pa sticks his head in the hole, looks around and yells back, "Ma! There ain't nuthin wrong with this outhouse!" Ma hollers back, "Now take your head out of the hole!" Pa proceeds to pull his head out of the hole, then starts yelling, "Ma! Help! My beard is stuck in the cracks in the toilet seat!" To which Ma replies, "Hurt's, don't it ?!" |
As you liked the last one so much....
There was a little known tribe that lived in the jungles of Africa – civilised, to an extent, but not in our sense of the word - you know, all grass skirts, bones through noses, and huts made out of mud and grass. Well, they had a new chief, and new chiefs being what new chiefs will be, he wanted to make an impression. So he gave orders for a throne to be built for him, made from the finest materials that were available in the jungle. And so it was that the natives gathered wood and vines and elephant tusks and a variety of other materials and proceeded to build him the most enormous and elaborate thrown (thrown...? sheesh: throne!). He was well pleased. But then he realised he didn't have a special place to put his thrown (aaww, come on, spell it right,, for God's sake!). That was no good at all, so he gave order that he be built a new and grand house made from the finest grass, and, so that the throne (at last!) should be set in a place fitting its importance his natives were made to construct a sort of dais for the throne (OK, now we're talking...), rather like a second floor, for in fact he wanted to use the area under the dais as a (relatively-speaking) sumptuous bedroom. When the chief’s new hut was ready to have its roof fitted (but before this was done) the natives raised the throne by ropes and pulleys and laid it to rest on the dais. It looked splendid, and the chief was again well pleased. The roof was finally fitted placed over the total ensemble and the chief ordered a celebration to commemorate this achievement – the finest grass hut in the jungle, complete with throne and all mod cons (for natives living in the jungle that is). It was well past midnight when the partying finished, and the chief and his natives went yawning to their respective beds. But just before dawn there was this mighty crashing sound, and all the natives woke to discover that their chief’s new hut had collapsed under the weight of the thrown (oh. no, not again...) – the roof that had been added last proved just too much for the walls to bear – and worse still the chief lie crushed and perished under his new throne (redeemed myself!). Naturally, everyone was extremely sad - I mean the chief had only been around a few days. What a tragedy!, Still, as one of the natives quite rightly pointed out - it just went to show that people in grass houses shouldn’t stow thrones. |
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(the son of the squaw on the hide Poor Tent uses, is equal to the sons of the squaws on the other two hides) The sum of the square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sums of the squares of the other two sides. |
Anyone ever notice that the Scarecrow gets it wrong when he tries to recite that after getting his diploma at the end of "The Wizard of Oz"?
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Can anyone remember how to prove pythagoras theorem using similar triangles...
just asking.... |
Remember? No. Google? Maybe #8? Or #13?
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