Humor...I Need Humor...

[Nirvana]

The Divorced Barbie Doll

One day a father gets out of work and on his way home he suddenly remembers that it's his daughter's birthday. He pulls over to a Toy Shop and asks the sales person, 'How much for one of those Barbie's in the display window?' The salesperson answers, 'Which one do you mean, Sir? We have: Work Out Barbie for $19.95, Shopping Barbie for $19.95, Beach Barbie for $19.95, Disco Barbie for $19.95, Ballerina Barbie for $19.95, Astronaut Barbie for $19.95, Skater Barbie for $19.95, and Divorced Barbie for $265.95'.

The amazed father asks: 'It's what?! Why is the Divorced Barbie $265.95 and the others only $19.95?'

The annoyed salesperson rolls her eyes, sighs, and answers: 'Sir..., Divorced Barbie comes with: Ken's Car, Ken's House, Ken's Boat, Ken's Furniture, Ken's Computer, one of Ken's Friends, and a key chain made with Ken's balls.

[GunMaster357]

What do a Christmas tree and a catholic priest have in common?





Balls are for ornament purpose only.

[xoxoxoBruce]

Breakup Excuses...
16 "Ow... I banged my head! That really hurt! Hey... who are YOU?"

15 "I'm sorry, but there just isn't room in my life right now for both you and my vibrator."

14 "I've got this disease... it's called herpigonasyphalaids. Very contagious."

13 "You're too young for me. I mean, too *old*. We're the same age? Well, that doesn't work for me, either."

12 "We're just so different, you and I. You're an extrovert, I'm an introvert. I like classical, you like heavy metal. And of course *I'm* not a physically repulsive raving psychopath."

11 "You've gone from 'sponge-worthy' to merely 'spongy.'"

10 "Dear Christine: By the time you read this I'll be a woman..."

9 "I have early-onset onanism."

8 "You're no longer the wealthy, gullible, and desperately lonely man I fell in love with."

7 "My penis, uh, fell off, and I, er, lost it... yeah-- on the subway, I think."

6 "Less filling? LESS FILLING??? I don't even know who you ARE anymore!"

5 "My dog is having puppies and I need to take a year off in order to train them to attack your picture."

4 "It's not *you*, it's me. Specifically, me would like to sleep with your sister."

3 "I had lunch at the Hunan Palace today and according to the place mat, you're a snake and I'm a mongoose."

2 "We just don't have anything in common anymore -- you're a morning person, and I want to see your severed head impaled on a steel railroad spike."

1 "I'm holding you back from all the other lives you could be ruining."

[footfootfoot]

Brings to mind this song:

Vanilla Ice Cream - Stephen Lynch

Have a seat and listen, please don't say a thing
The matters of the heart sometimes, the truth will have a sting
Just don't take it personally, this is no attack
But we will never last because I am white and you are...also white

I only like black girls the brown girls, the café au lait
Caramel girls, and mocca girls just blow me away
If you're a nubian, I want you to-be in every fantasy
But if you're a whitey, say nighty-nighty, your just not the girl for me

Oh I hate vanilla ice cream, I like chocolate instead
I hope she likes her soul food with a little Wonder Bread
Don't call it Jungle Fever cause that just isn't right
I am not a racist; some of my best friends are white

I just prefer black girls, the brown girls, the café au lait
The caramel girls and mocca girls just blow me away.
If you're a cracker, you better get blacker or else you best get out
It is no mystery, I like a sister see that's what I'm talkin about

Our wedding song will be "Ebony and Ivory"
and we'll sing Christmas carols round the old Kwanzaa tree
But color is not the issue here, it's dignity, it's class
It's all about her heart, okay it's partly about that ass
I want me some black girl, the brown girl, the café au lait
The caramel girls, and mocca girls, just blow me away
If you're a honky, you're singin the wrong key, it's the honest truth
The skin that she's dwellin in, must contain melanin, that is the Fountain of Youth.

[Gravdigr]

Yes. No. Wait...

[xoxoxoBruce]

Possibly.

[xoxoxoBruce]

For those of you who are coming to our place for Thanksgiving dinner- Martha Stewart ain’t gonna be here! I’m telling you in advance, so don’t act surprised. Since Ms. Stewart won’t be coming, I’ve made a few small changes:

Our sidewalk will not be lined with homemade, paper bag luminaries. After a trial run, it was decided that no matter how cleverly done, rows of flaming lunch sacks do not have the desired welcoming effect.

Once inside, our guests will note that the entry hall is not decorated with the swags of Indian corn and fall foliage I had planned to make. Instead, I’ve gotten the kids involved in the decorating by having them track in colorful autumn leaves from the front yard. The mud was their idea.

The dining table will not be covered with expensive linens, fancy china, or crystal goblets. If possible, we will use dishes that match and everyone will get a fork. Since this IS Thanksgiving, we will refrain from using the plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the Santa napkins from last Christmas.

Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and flowers that I promised. Instead we will be displaying a hedgehog-like decoration hand-crafted from the finest construction paper. The artist assures me it is a turkey.

We will be dining fashionably late. The children will entertain you while you wait. I’m sure they will be happy to share every choice comment I have made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims and the turkey hot line. Please remember that most of these comments were made at 5:00 a. m. upon discovering that the turkey was still hard enough to cut diamonds.

As accompaniment to the children’s recital, I will play a recording of tribal drumming. If the children should mention that I don’t own a recording of tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds suspiciously like a frozen Turkey in a clothes dryer, ignore them. They are lying.

We toyed with the idea of ringing a dainty silver bell to announce the start of our feast. In the end, we chose to keep our traditional method. We’ve also decided against a formal seating arrangement.. When the smoke alarm sounds, please gather around the table and sit where you like.

In the spirit of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at a separate table. In a separate room. Next door.

Now, I know you have all seen pictures of one person carving a turkey in front of a crowd of appreciative onlookers. This will not be happening at our dinner. For safety reasons, the turkey will be carved in a private ceremony. I stress “private” meaning: Do not, under any circumstances enter the kitchen to laugh at me. Do not send small, unsuspecting children to check on my progress. I have an electric knife. The turkey is unarmed. It stands to reason that I will eventually win. When I do, we will eat.

I would like to take this opportunity to remind my young diners that “passing the rolls” is not a football play. Nor is it a request to bean your sister in the head with warm tasty bread.

Oh, and one reminder for the adults: For the duration of the meal, and especially while in the presence of young diners, we will refer to the giblet gravy by its lesser-known name: Cheese Sauce. If a young diner questions you regarding the origins or type of Cheese Sauce, plead ignorance. Cheese Sauce stains.

Before I forget, there is one last change Instead of offering a choice between 12 different scrumptious desserts, we will be serving the traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream and small fingerprints. You will still have a choice; take it or leave it.

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this year. She probably won’t come next year either. I am thankful.

[Gravdigr]

.

[classicman]

Skinny little white Irishman goes into an elevator, looks up and sees this
HUGE black guy standing next to him. The big guy sees the little Irishman
staring at him, he looks down and says:
'7 feet tall, 350 pounds, 20 inch penis, 3 pounds of testicles,
Turner Brown.'

The little white Irishman faints and falls to the floor.

The big guy kneels down and brings him to, shaking him and says,
'What's wrong with you?'

In a weak voice the little guy says,
'What EXACTLY did you say to me?

The big dude says,
'I saw your curious look and figured I'd just give you the answers
to the questions everyone always asks me......
I'm 7 feet tall, weigh 350 pounds, have a 20 inch penis, my testicles weigh 3 pounds
and my name is Turner Brown.'

The little white Irishman says:
'Turner Brown?!....Sweet Jesus, I thought you said,
'Turn around!

[plthijinx]

The class was supposed to write a short story in as few words as possible
for a college class and the instructions were that it had to discuss
Religion, Sexuality and Mystery. The only one who received an A+ wrote the
following:





Good God, I'm pregnant, I wonder who did it.

[xoxoxoBruce]

Two lawyers had been stranded on a deserted island for several months. The only thing on the island was a tall coconut tree that provided them their only food. Each day one of the lawyers would climb to the top to see if he could spot a rescue boat coming.

One day the lawyer yelled down from the tree, “WOW, I just can’t believe my eyes. There is a woman out there floating in our direction.”

The lawyer on the ground was most skeptical and said, “You’re hallucinating, You’ve finally lost your mind.”

But within a few minutes, up to the beach floated a stunningly beautiful woman, face up, totally naked, unconscious, without even so much as a ring or earrings on her person.

The two lawyers went down to the water, dragged her up on the beach and discovered, yes, she was alive, warm and breathing.

One said to the other, “You know, we’ve been on this God forsaken island for months now without a woman.



It’s been such a long, long time….So … do you think we should … well … you know … screw her?”

“Out of WHAT?!?” asked the other.

[classicman]

Little Davie attended a horse auction with his father. He watched as his father moved from horse to horse, running his hands up and down the horse"s legs and rump, and chest.

After a few minutes, Davie asked, "Dad, why are you doing that?"

His father replied, "Because when I"m buying horses, I have to make sure that they are healthy and in good shape before I buy.

Billy, looking worried, said, "Dad, I think the UPS guy wants to buy Mom!"

[footfootfoot]

Originally Posted by classicman

Little Davie attended a horse auction with his father. He watched as his father moved from horse to horse, running his hands up and down the horse"s legs and rump, and chest.

After a few minutes, Davie asked, "Dad, why are you doing that?"

His father replied, "Because when I"m buying horses, I have to make sure that they are healthy and in good shape before I buy.

Billy, looking worried, said, "Dad, I think the UPS guy wants to buy Mom!"

...and if the mailman weren't there to hold her down, we would have lost her.

[Gravdigr]

Originally Posted by footfootfoot

...and if the mailman weren't there to hold her down, we would have lost her.

The Sunday school teacher asked the class "Which part of you goes to heaven first?"

Little Johnny said "Your feet."

The teacher asked "Why do say that, Johnny?"

Johnny said "Cause the other day I saw Dad trying to hold Mama down on the couch, and her feet were in the air, and she was hollering 'Oh God, I'm coming, I'm coming!"

[Sundae]

The Douglas Adams' story is one he used to tell - he told it as happening to him, but he also wrote it into So Long and Thanks For All the Fish*. But of course with biscuits instead of cookies. And he died before CNN was available to Brits. And it's apocryphal anyway.

But even in a bastardised form it still makes me smile.

*

"Tell me the story," said Fenchurch firmly. "You arrived at the station."
"I was about twenty minutes early. I'd got the time of the train wrong. I suppose it is equally possible," he added after a moment's reflection, "that British Rail had got the time of the train wrong. Hadn't occurred to me before."
"Get on with it." Fenchurch laughed.
"So I bought a newspaper, to do the crossword, and went to the buffet to get a cup of coffee."
"You do the crossword?"
"Yes."
"Which one?"
"The Guardian usually."
"I think it tries to be too cute. I prefer The Times. Did you solve it?"
"What?"
"The crossword in the Guardian."
"I haven't had a chance to look at it yet," said Arthur, "I'm still trying to buy the coffee."
"All right then. Buy the coffee."
"I'm buying it. I am also," said Arthur, "buying some biscuits."
"What sort?"
"Rich Tea."
"Good Choice."
"I like them. Laden with all these new possessions, I go and sit at a table. And don't ask me what the table was like because this was some time ago and I can't remember. It was probably round."
"All right."
"So let me give you the layout. Me sitting at the table. On my left, the newspaper. On my right, the cup of coffee. In the middle of the table, the packet of biscuits."
"I see it perfectly."
"What you don't see," said Arthur, "because I haven't mentioned him yet, is the guy sitting at the table already. He is sitting there opposite me."
"What's he look like?"
"Perfectly ordinary. Briefcase. Business suit. He didn't look," said Arthur, "as if he was about to do anything weird."
"Ah. I know the type. What did he do?"
"He did this. He leaned across the table, picked up the packet of biscuits, tore it open, took one out, and..."
"What?"
"Ate it."
"What?"
"He ate it."
Fenchurch looked at him in astonishment. "What on earth did you do?"
"Well, in the circumstances I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do. I was compelled," said Arthur, "to ignore it."
"What? Why?"
"Well, it's not the sort of thing you're trained for is it? I searched my soul, and discovered that there was nothing anywhere in my upbringing, experience or even primal instincts to tell me how to react to someone who has quite simply, calmly, sitting right there in front of me, stolen one of my biscuits."
"Well, you could..." Fenchurch thought about it. "I must say I'm not sure what I would have done either. So what happened?"
"I stared furiously at the crossword," said Arthur. "Couldn't do a single clue, took a sip of coffee, it was too hot to drink, so there was nothing for it. I braced myself. I took a biscuit, trying very hard not to notice," he added, "that the packet was already mysteriously open..."
"But you're fighting back, taking a tough line."
"After my fashion, yes. I ate a biscuit. I ate it very deliberately and visibly, so that he would have no doubt as to what it was I was doing. When I eat a biscuit," Arthur said, "it stays eaten."
"So what did he do?"
"Took another one. Honestly," insisted Arthur, "this is exactly what happened. He took another biscuit, he ate it. Clear as daylight. Certain as we are sitting on the ground."
Fenchurch stirred uncomfortably.
"And the problem was," said Arthur, "that having not said anything the first time, it was somehow even more difficult to broach the subject a second time around. What do you say? "Excuse me...I couldn't help noticing, er..." Doesn't work. No, I ignored it with, if anything, even more vigor than previously."
"My man..."
"Stared at the crossword, again, still couldn't budge a bit of it, so showing some of the spirit that Henry V did on St. Crispin's Day..."
"What?"
"I went into the breach again. I took," said Arthur, "another biscuit. And for an instant our eyes met."
"Like this?"
"Yes, well, no, not quite like that. But they met. Just for an instant. And we both looked away. But I am here to tell you," said Arthur, "that there was a little electricity in the air. There was a little tension building up over the table. At about this time."
"I can imagine."
"We went through the whole packet like this. Him, me, him, me..."
"The whole packet?"
"Well it was only eight biscuits but it seemed like a lifetime of biscuits we were getting through at this point. Gladiators could hardly have had a tougher time."
"Gladiators," said Fenchurch, "would have had to do it in the sun. More physically gruelling."
"There is that. So. When the empty packet was lying between us the man at last got up, having done his worst, and left. I heaved a sigh of relief, of course. As it happened, my train was announced a moment or two later, so I finished my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper..."
"Yes?"
"Were my biscuits."
"What?" said Fenchurch. "What?"
"True."
"No!" She gasped and tossed herself back on the grass laughing.
She sat up again.
"You complete nitwit," she hooted, "you almost completely and utterly foolish person."