Junior asks his dad,
"Daddy, how was I born?"
His dad, who is a software engineer sighs and replies, "Ah, my son, I guess one day you would have to find out anyway!"
"Well, you see your Mom and I first got together in a chat room on MSN. Then I set up a date via e-mail with your mom and we met at a cyber-cafe. We sneaked into a secluded room, where your mother agreed to a download from my hard drive. As soon as I was ready to upload, we discovered that neither one of us had used a firewall, but it was too late to hit the delete button."
"Six weeks later your mom sent me an instant message saying that her operating system was showing signs of unauthorized program activity from a self extracting file which had implanted itself in her BIOS.
Then nine months later a little Pop-Up appeared and said: 'You've Got Male'!"
Monday, July 25, 2005
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Men are the real cause
MENtal illness
MENstrual cramps
MENtal breakdown
MENopause
GUYnecologist
AND...
When we have REAL trouble, it's a HISterectomy.
Ever notice how all of women's problems start with MEN?
It all makes sense now...
MENstrual cramps
MENtal breakdown
MENopause
GUYnecologist
AND...
When we have REAL trouble, it's a HISterectomy.
Ever notice how all of women's problems start with MEN?
It all makes sense now...
Women Over 30
As we grow in age, we value women who are over 30 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why...
* A woman over 30 will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, "What are you thinking?" She doesn't care what you think.
* If a woman over 30 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it's usually something more interesting.
* A woman over 30 knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is,whatshe is, what she wants and from whom.
* Few women past the age of 30 give a damn what you might think about her or what she's doing.
* Women over 30 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you if they think they can get away with it.
* Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it's like to be unappreciated.
* A woman over 30 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn't trust the guy with other women.
* Women over 30 couldn't care less if you're attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won't betray her.
* Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 30. They always know.
* Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one! You don't ever have to wonder where you stand with her.
Yes, we praise women over 30 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of 30+,, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year-old waitress.
* A woman over 30 will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, "What are you thinking?" She doesn't care what you think.
* If a woman over 30 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it's usually something more interesting.
* A woman over 30 knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is,whatshe is, what she wants and from whom.
* Few women past the age of 30 give a damn what you might think about her or what she's doing.
* Women over 30 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you if they think they can get away with it.
* Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it's like to be unappreciated.
* A woman over 30 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn't trust the guy with other women.
* Women over 30 couldn't care less if you're attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won't betray her.
* Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 30. They always know.
* Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one! You don't ever have to wonder where you stand with her.
Yes, we praise women over 30 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of 30+,, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year-old waitress.
From a Father's Journal....
When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter's chest. He would open the door and immediately affect my good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds. Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad.
Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter's suitors feel even worse.
My motto: Wilt them in the living room and they'll stay wilted all night. So, I'll call out jovially, "I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you're stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?" As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.
Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure as heck not picking anything up.
Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.
Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.
Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: When it comes to Sex, I AM THE BARRIER, and I WILL kill you.
Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."
Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.
Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her adam's apple. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay.
My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too--there are only eight of them, for crying out loud! And, for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive). I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate--ink washes off--and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.
One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter's would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times). She asked me why I was being so hard on the boy? "Don't you remember being that age?" she challenged. Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the eight simple rules?
Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter's suitors feel even worse.
My motto: Wilt them in the living room and they'll stay wilted all night. So, I'll call out jovially, "I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you're stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?" As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.
Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure as heck not picking anything up.
Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.
Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.
Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: When it comes to Sex, I AM THE BARRIER, and I WILL kill you.
Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."
Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.
Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her adam's apple. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay.
My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too--there are only eight of them, for crying out loud! And, for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive). I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate--ink washes off--and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.
One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter's would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times). She asked me why I was being so hard on the boy? "Don't you remember being that age?" she challenged. Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the eight simple rules?
Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus
Here's a prime example of "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix:
The professor told his class one day: "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails, and anything you wish to say must be written in the-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."
The following was actually turned in by two of his English students: Rebecca and Gary. Now on to the story:
(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
(second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom she had spent one sweaty night over a year ago.
"A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far...".
But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4.
"Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
(Gary)
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet.
With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid, Laurie and 85 million other Americans.
The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"
(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.
(Gary)
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F--KING TEA??? Oh no, I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steel novels!"
(Rebecca)
A**hole .
(Gary)
Bit*ch
(Rebecca)
F U - YOU NEANDERTHAL!
(Gary)
Go drink some tea - whore.
(TEACHER)
A+ - I really liked this one
The professor told his class one day: "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails, and anything you wish to say must be written in the-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."
The following was actually turned in by two of his English students: Rebecca and Gary. Now on to the story:
(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
(second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom she had spent one sweaty night over a year ago.
"A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far...".
But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4.
"Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
(Gary)
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet.
With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid, Laurie and 85 million other Americans.
The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"
(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.
(Gary)
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F--KING TEA??? Oh no, I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steel novels!"
(Rebecca)
A**hole .
(Gary)
Bit*ch
(Rebecca)
F U - YOU NEANDERTHAL!
(Gary)
Go drink some tea - whore.
(TEACHER)
A+ - I really liked this one
Sardar's Vasectomy
After having their 11th child, a Sardarji and his wife decided that was enough, as they could not afford a larger bed. So the Sardarji went to his veterinarian and told him that he and his wife didn't want to have any more children. The doctor told him that there was a procedure called a vasectomy that could fix the problem but that it was expensive.
"A less costly alternative," said the doctor, "is to go home, get a cherry bomb, light it, put it in a beer can, then hold the can up to your ear and count to 10."
The Sardarji said to the doctor, "I may not be the sharpest, but I don't see how putting a cherry bomb in a beer can next to my ear is going to help me."
"Trust me," said the doctor.
So the Sardarji went home, lit a cherry bomb and put it in a beer can. He held the can up to his ear and began to count:
"1"
"2"
"3"
"4"
"5"
At which point he paused, placed the beer can between his legs and resumed counting on his other hand.
"A less costly alternative," said the doctor, "is to go home, get a cherry bomb, light it, put it in a beer can, then hold the can up to your ear and count to 10."
The Sardarji said to the doctor, "I may not be the sharpest, but I don't see how putting a cherry bomb in a beer can next to my ear is going to help me."
"Trust me," said the doctor.
So the Sardarji went home, lit a cherry bomb and put it in a beer can. He held the can up to his ear and began to count:
"1"
"2"
"3"
"4"
"5"
At which point he paused, placed the beer can between his legs and resumed counting on his other hand.
Three Admins
A Windows admin, Unix admin and a Mainframe admin each went to the Gents room.
The Windows admin washed his hands, then pulled out twelve paper towels and thoroughly dried both hands up to the wrists in two seconds flat.
The Unix admin took out one paper towel and very carefully, using every bit of dry towel, dried his hands perfectly in under one minute.
The Mainframe admin breezed through without stopping to wash his hands at all.
"Somewhere along the line" he said, "we learned not to pee on our fingers..."
You left off the ending!
Then a Hardware Engineer came in, went straight to the sink, washed, and THEN went to pee. When the others mentioned their confusion, he remarked, "Well, I was always taught to wash before handling sacred objects...."
The Windows admin washed his hands, then pulled out twelve paper towels and thoroughly dried both hands up to the wrists in two seconds flat.
The Unix admin took out one paper towel and very carefully, using every bit of dry towel, dried his hands perfectly in under one minute.
The Mainframe admin breezed through without stopping to wash his hands at all.
"Somewhere along the line" he said, "we learned not to pee on our fingers..."
You left off the ending!
Then a Hardware Engineer came in, went straight to the sink, washed, and THEN went to pee. When the others mentioned their confusion, he remarked, "Well, I was always taught to wash before handling sacred objects...."
Ten Commandments
A young pastor who normally rode a bike was walking despondently down the street when he came upon an older, more experienced pastor.
The older pastor could see his young friend was troubled deeply.
"What is bothering you my son?" he asked.
"Well it appears a member of my congregation has stolen my bike," he replied.
The elder said, "If I may give you some advice you might get your bike back. Next Sunday preach on the 10 Commandments, and when you get to 'Thou shall not steal', really emphasize it."
Well, the next week they met again and the young pastor was once again riding his bike.
"Well " said the older one, "I see my advice worked."
"Yes" the young pastor replied, "I took your advice and preached on the 10 Commandments, and when I got to 'Thou Shall Not Commit Adultery', I remembered where I'd left my bike."
The older pastor could see his young friend was troubled deeply.
"What is bothering you my son?" he asked.
"Well it appears a member of my congregation has stolen my bike," he replied.
The elder said, "If I may give you some advice you might get your bike back. Next Sunday preach on the 10 Commandments, and when you get to 'Thou shall not steal', really emphasize it."
Well, the next week they met again and the young pastor was once again riding his bike.
"Well " said the older one, "I see my advice worked."
"Yes" the young pastor replied, "I took your advice and preached on the 10 Commandments, and when I got to 'Thou Shall Not Commit Adultery', I remembered where I'd left my bike."
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Two Wishes
A man walks into a restaurant with a full-grown ostrich behind him. As he sits, the waitress comes over and asks for their orders. The man says, "I'll have a hamburger, fries and a coke," and turns to the ostrich, "What's yours?"
"I'll have the same," says the ostrich.
A short time later the waitress returns with the order. "That will be $6.40 please," and the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out the exact change for payment.
The next day, the man and the ostrich come again and the man says, "I'll have a hamburger, fries and a coke," and the ostrich says, "I'll have the same."
Once again the man reaches into his pocket and pays with exact change. This becomes a routine until late one evening, the two enter again.
"The usual?" asks the waitress. "No, this is Friday night, so I will have a steak, baked potato and salad," says the man, "Same for me," says the ostrich.
A short time later the waitress comes with the order and says, That will be $12.62." Once again the man pulls exact change out of his pocket and places it on the table.
The waitress can't hold back her curiosity any longer. "Excuse me, sir. How do you manage to always come up with the exact change out of your pocket every time?"
"Well," says the man, "several years ago I was cleaning the attic and I found an old lamp. When I rubbed it a Genie appeared and offered me two wishes.
My first wish was that if I ever had to pay for anything, I would just put my hand in my pocket and the right amount of money would always be there."
"That's brilliant!" says the waitress. "Most people would wish for a million dollars or something, but you'll always be as rich as you want for as long as you live!" "That's right. Whether it's a gallon of milk or a Rolls Royce, the exact money is always there," says the man.
The waitress asks, "One other thing, sir, what's with the ostrich?"
The man sighs, pauses, and answers, "My second wish was for a tall chick with long legs who agrees with everything I say."
"I'll have the same," says the ostrich.
A short time later the waitress returns with the order. "That will be $6.40 please," and the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out the exact change for payment.
The next day, the man and the ostrich come again and the man says, "I'll have a hamburger, fries and a coke," and the ostrich says, "I'll have the same."
Once again the man reaches into his pocket and pays with exact change. This becomes a routine until late one evening, the two enter again.
"The usual?" asks the waitress. "No, this is Friday night, so I will have a steak, baked potato and salad," says the man, "Same for me," says the ostrich.
A short time later the waitress comes with the order and says, That will be $12.62." Once again the man pulls exact change out of his pocket and places it on the table.
The waitress can't hold back her curiosity any longer. "Excuse me, sir. How do you manage to always come up with the exact change out of your pocket every time?"
"Well," says the man, "several years ago I was cleaning the attic and I found an old lamp. When I rubbed it a Genie appeared and offered me two wishes.
My first wish was that if I ever had to pay for anything, I would just put my hand in my pocket and the right amount of money would always be there."
"That's brilliant!" says the waitress. "Most people would wish for a million dollars or something, but you'll always be as rich as you want for as long as you live!" "That's right. Whether it's a gallon of milk or a Rolls Royce, the exact money is always there," says the man.
The waitress asks, "One other thing, sir, what's with the ostrich?"
The man sighs, pauses, and answers, "My second wish was for a tall chick with long legs who agrees with everything I say."
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Coming Home Hammered
A woman’s husband comes home hammered every night and she always yells at him before going to bed alone.
One day she decides to try some reverse psychology. When her husband staggers in that night, she’s waiting for him in her best lingerie. She sits him in an armchair and gives him a backrub.
“It’s getting late, big boy,” she says after a few minutes. “Why don’t we go upstairs to bed.”
“We might as well,” slurs the husband. “I’m going to be in trouble when I get home, anyway.”
One day she decides to try some reverse psychology. When her husband staggers in that night, she’s waiting for him in her best lingerie. She sits him in an armchair and gives him a backrub.
“It’s getting late, big boy,” she says after a few minutes. “Why don’t we go upstairs to bed.”
“We might as well,” slurs the husband. “I’m going to be in trouble when I get home, anyway.”
Pig Farming
A farmer had five female pigs. Times were hard, so he decided to take them to the county fair and sell them.
At the fair, he met another farmer who owned five male pigs. After talking a bit, they decided to mate the pigs and split everything 50/50. The farmers lived sixty miles apart. So they agreed to drive thirty miles each, and find a field in which to let the pigs mate.
The first morning, the farmer with the female pigs got up at 5 a.m., loaded the pigs into the family station wagon, which was the only vehicle he had, and drove the thirty miles.
While the pigs were mating, he asked the other farmer, "How will I know if they are pregnant?"
The other farmer replied, "If they're in the grass in the morning, they're pregnant; if they're in the mud, they're not."
The next morning the pigs were rolling in the mud. So he hosed them off, loaded them into the family station wagon again and proceeded to try again. This continued each morning for more than a week.
One morning the farmer was so tired, he couldn't get out of bed. He called to his wife, "Honey, please look outside and tell me whether the pigs are in the mud or in the grass."
"Neither," yelled his wife, "they're in the station wagon and one of them is honking the horn."
At the fair, he met another farmer who owned five male pigs. After talking a bit, they decided to mate the pigs and split everything 50/50. The farmers lived sixty miles apart. So they agreed to drive thirty miles each, and find a field in which to let the pigs mate.
The first morning, the farmer with the female pigs got up at 5 a.m., loaded the pigs into the family station wagon, which was the only vehicle he had, and drove the thirty miles.
While the pigs were mating, he asked the other farmer, "How will I know if they are pregnant?"
The other farmer replied, "If they're in the grass in the morning, they're pregnant; if they're in the mud, they're not."
The next morning the pigs were rolling in the mud. So he hosed them off, loaded them into the family station wagon again and proceeded to try again. This continued each morning for more than a week.
One morning the farmer was so tired, he couldn't get out of bed. He called to his wife, "Honey, please look outside and tell me whether the pigs are in the mud or in the grass."
"Neither," yelled his wife, "they're in the station wagon and one of them is honking the horn."
Monday, July 04, 2005
The Lift
A little while later she goes into McDonald's and asks the counter girl the very same question. The girl replies, "I guess about 29."
The woman replies, "Nope. I'm 50."
Now she's feeling really good about herself. She stops in a drug store on her way down the street. She goes up to the counter to get some mints and asks the clerk this burning question. The clerk responds, "Oh, I'd say 30."
Again she proudly responds, "I am 50, but thank you."
While waiting for the bus to go home, she asks an old man waiting next to her the same question. He replies, "Lady, I'm almost 70 and my eye sight is going. Although, when I was young, there was a sure way to tell how old a woman was. It sounds very forward, but it requires you to let me put my hands under your bra. Then, and only then can I tell you EXACTLY how old you are."
They wait in silence on the empty street until curiosity gets the best of her. She finally blurts out, "What the hell, go ahead."
He slips both of his hands under her blouse and begins to feel around very slowly and carefully. He bounces and weighs each breast... He gently pinches each nipple. He pushes her breasts together and rubs them against each other. After a couple of minutes of this, she says, "Okay, okay...How old am I?"
He completes one last squeeze of her breasts, removes his hands, and says. "Madam, you are 50." Stunned and amazed, the woman says, "That was incredible, how could you
tell?'
The old man replies, "Promise you won't get mad?"
"I promise I won't." she says.
He replies, "I was behind you in line at McDonald's."
The woman replies, "Nope. I'm 50."
Now she's feeling really good about herself. She stops in a drug store on her way down the street. She goes up to the counter to get some mints and asks the clerk this burning question. The clerk responds, "Oh, I'd say 30."
Again she proudly responds, "I am 50, but thank you."
While waiting for the bus to go home, she asks an old man waiting next to her the same question. He replies, "Lady, I'm almost 70 and my eye sight is going. Although, when I was young, there was a sure way to tell how old a woman was. It sounds very forward, but it requires you to let me put my hands under your bra. Then, and only then can I tell you EXACTLY how old you are."
They wait in silence on the empty street until curiosity gets the best of her. She finally blurts out, "What the hell, go ahead."
He slips both of his hands under her blouse and begins to feel around very slowly and carefully. He bounces and weighs each breast... He gently pinches each nipple. He pushes her breasts together and rubs them against each other. After a couple of minutes of this, she says, "Okay, okay...How old am I?"
He completes one last squeeze of her breasts, removes his hands, and says. "Madam, you are 50." Stunned and amazed, the woman says, "That was incredible, how could you
tell?'
The old man replies, "Promise you won't get mad?"
"I promise I won't." she says.
He replies, "I was behind you in line at McDonald's."
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
The Pharmacist
A lady walks into a drug store and tells the pharmacist she needs some cyanide.
The pharmacist said, "Why in the world do you need cyanide?"
The lady then explained she needed it to poison her husband.
The pharmacist's eyes got big and he said, "Lord have mercy, I can't give you cyanide to kill your husband! That's against the law! I'll lose my license, they'll throw both of us in jail and all kinds of bad things will happen! Absolutely not, you can NOT have any cyanide!"
Then the lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist's wife.
The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, "Well now, you didn't tell me you had a prescription."
The pharmacist said, "Why in the world do you need cyanide?"
The lady then explained she needed it to poison her husband.
The pharmacist's eyes got big and he said, "Lord have mercy, I can't give you cyanide to kill your husband! That's against the law! I'll lose my license, they'll throw both of us in jail and all kinds of bad things will happen! Absolutely not, you can NOT have any cyanide!"
Then the lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist's wife.
The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, "Well now, you didn't tell me you had a prescription."
Never make a bet when you're drunk
A cajun walks into a bar, notices a very large jar on the counter, and sees it's filled to the brim with $10 bills. He guesses there must be thousands of dollars in it. He approaches the bartender and asks, "What's up with the jar?"
"Well, you pay $10, and if you pass three tests, you get all the money."
The man certainly isn't going to pass this up. "What are the three
tests?"
"Pay first, those are the rules." says the bartender. So the man gives him the $10, and the bartender drops it into the jar.
"OK," the bartender says, "here's what you need to do:
First - You have to drink that entire gallon of pepper tequila. The whole thing, all at once...and you can't make a face while doing it.
Second, - There's a pit bull chained-up out back with a sore tooth. You have to remove the tooth with your bare hands.
Third, - There's a 90-year-old woman upstairs who has never reached orgasm during intercourse. You've gotta make things right for her."
The man is stunned. "I know I paid my 10 bucks, but I'm not an idiot! I won't do it! You have to be nuts to drink a gallon of pepper tequila, and then do those other things...."
"Your call," says the bartender, "but your money stays where it is."
As time goes on and the man has a few drinks, then a few more, he asks, "Wherez zat teeqeelah?" He grabs the gallon with both hands and downs it with a big slurp. Tears are streaming down both cheeks, but he doesn't make a face.
Next, he staggers out back where the pit bull is chained-up, and soon all the people inside the bar hear a huge, noisy, scuffle going on outside. They hear the pit bull barking, the guy screaming, the pit bull yelping, and then.......silence.
Just when they think the man surely must be dead, he staggers back into the bar, with his shirt ripped and large bloody scratches all over his body.
"Now," he says, "where's the old woman with the sore tooth?
"Well, you pay $10, and if you pass three tests, you get all the money."
The man certainly isn't going to pass this up. "What are the three
tests?"
"Pay first, those are the rules." says the bartender. So the man gives him the $10, and the bartender drops it into the jar.
"OK," the bartender says, "here's what you need to do:
First - You have to drink that entire gallon of pepper tequila. The whole thing, all at once...and you can't make a face while doing it.
Second, - There's a pit bull chained-up out back with a sore tooth. You have to remove the tooth with your bare hands.
Third, - There's a 90-year-old woman upstairs who has never reached orgasm during intercourse. You've gotta make things right for her."
The man is stunned. "I know I paid my 10 bucks, but I'm not an idiot! I won't do it! You have to be nuts to drink a gallon of pepper tequila, and then do those other things...."
"Your call," says the bartender, "but your money stays where it is."
As time goes on and the man has a few drinks, then a few more, he asks, "Wherez zat teeqeelah?" He grabs the gallon with both hands and downs it with a big slurp. Tears are streaming down both cheeks, but he doesn't make a face.
Next, he staggers out back where the pit bull is chained-up, and soon all the people inside the bar hear a huge, noisy, scuffle going on outside. They hear the pit bull barking, the guy screaming, the pit bull yelping, and then.......silence.
Just when they think the man surely must be dead, he staggers back into the bar, with his shirt ripped and large bloody scratches all over his body.
"Now," he says, "where's the old woman with the sore tooth?
Monday, April 25, 2005
10 Husbands And Still....
A lawyer married a woman who had previously divorced ten husbands.
On their wedding night, she told her new husband, "Please be gentle, I'm still a virgin."
"What?" said the puzzled groom.
"How can that be if you've been married ten times?"
"Well, Husband #1 was a sales representative: he kept telling me how great it was going to be.
Husband #2 was in software services: he was never really sure how it was supposed to function, but he said he'd look into it and get back to me.
Husband #3 was from field services: he said everything checked out diagnostically but he just couldn't get the system up.
Husband #4 was in telemarketing: even though he knew he had the order, he didn't know when he would be able to deliver.
Husband #5 was an engineer: he understood the basic process but wanted three years to research, implement, and design a new state-of-the-art method.
Husband #6 was from finance and administration: he thought he knew how, but he wasn't sure whether it was his job or not.
Husband #7 was in marketing: although he had a nice product, he was never sure how to position it.
Husband #8 was a psychologist: all he ever did was talk about it.
Husband #9 was a gynecologist: all he did was look at it.
Husband #10 was a stamp collector: all he ever did was... God! I miss him! But now that I've married you, I'm really excited!"
"Good," said the new husband, "but, why?"
"You're a lawyer. This time I know I'm gonna get screwed!"
On their wedding night, she told her new husband, "Please be gentle, I'm still a virgin."
"What?" said the puzzled groom.
"How can that be if you've been married ten times?"
"Well, Husband #1 was a sales representative: he kept telling me how great it was going to be.
Husband #2 was in software services: he was never really sure how it was supposed to function, but he said he'd look into it and get back to me.
Husband #3 was from field services: he said everything checked out diagnostically but he just couldn't get the system up.
Husband #4 was in telemarketing: even though he knew he had the order, he didn't know when he would be able to deliver.
Husband #5 was an engineer: he understood the basic process but wanted three years to research, implement, and design a new state-of-the-art method.
Husband #6 was from finance and administration: he thought he knew how, but he wasn't sure whether it was his job or not.
Husband #7 was in marketing: although he had a nice product, he was never sure how to position it.
Husband #8 was a psychologist: all he ever did was talk about it.
Husband #9 was a gynecologist: all he did was look at it.
Husband #10 was a stamp collector: all he ever did was... God! I miss him! But now that I've married you, I'm really excited!"
"Good," said the new husband, "but, why?"
"You're a lawyer. This time I know I'm gonna get screwed!"
Who The Hell Is He?
After a long night of making love this guy rolls over, was looking around when he noticed a framed picture of another man on the night stand by the bed. Naturally, the guy began to worry.
"Is this your husband?" he inquired nervously.
"No, silly," she replied, snuggling up to him.
"Your boyfriend then?" he asked.
"No, not at all," she said, nibbling away at his ear.
"Is it your dad or your brother?" He said hoping to be reassured..
"No, no, no!!!" She said
"Well, who the hell is he then?" demanded the bewildered guy.
Calmly, the girl replied, "That's me before the surgery."
"Is this your husband?" he inquired nervously.
"No, silly," she replied, snuggling up to him.
"Your boyfriend then?" he asked.
"No, not at all," she said, nibbling away at his ear.
"Is it your dad or your brother?" He said hoping to be reassured..
"No, no, no!!!" She said
"Well, who the hell is he then?" demanded the bewildered guy.
Calmly, the girl replied, "That's me before the surgery."
Worst Email Addresses
Many colleges and businesses tend to strip the last name down to 6 characters and add the first and last initial to either the beginning or end to make up an E-Mail address. For example, Mary L. Ferguson = mlfergus or fergusml. They are just now beginning to realize the problems that may happen when you have a large and diverse pool of people to choose from. Add to that a large database of company/college acronyms and you have some very funny addresses. Probably not funny to the individual involved, however:
So here is the TOP TEN Actual E-mail Addresses...
10. Hellen Thomas Eatons (Duke University) - eatonsht@dku.edu
9. Martha Elizibeth Cummins (Fresno University) - cumminme@fu.edu
8. George David Blowmer (Drop Front Drawers & Cabinets Inc.) - blowmegd@dropdrawers.com
7. Mary Ellen Dickinson (Indiana University of Pennsylvania) - dickinme@iup.edu
6. Francis Kevin Kissinger (Las Verdes University) - kissinfk@lvu.edu
5. Barbara Joan Beeranger (Myplace Home Decorating) - beeranbj@myplace.com
4. Amanda Sue Pickering (Purdue University) - aspicker@pu.edu
3. Ida Beatrice Ballinger (Ball State University) - ibballin@bsu.edu
2. Bradley Thomas Kissering (Brady Electrical, Northern Division, Overton Canada) - btkisser@bendover.com
and finally...
1. Isabelle Haydon Adcock (Toys "R" Us) - ihadcock@tru.com
So here is the TOP TEN Actual E-mail Addresses...
10. Hellen Thomas Eatons (Duke University) - eatonsht@dku.edu
9. Martha Elizibeth Cummins (Fresno University) - cumminme@fu.edu
8. George David Blowmer (Drop Front Drawers & Cabinets Inc.) - blowmegd@dropdrawers.com
7. Mary Ellen Dickinson (Indiana University of Pennsylvania) - dickinme@iup.edu
6. Francis Kevin Kissinger (Las Verdes University) - kissinfk@lvu.edu
5. Barbara Joan Beeranger (Myplace Home Decorating) - beeranbj@myplace.com
4. Amanda Sue Pickering (Purdue University) - aspicker@pu.edu
3. Ida Beatrice Ballinger (Ball State University) - ibballin@bsu.edu
2. Bradley Thomas Kissering (Brady Electrical, Northern Division, Overton Canada) - btkisser@bendover.com
and finally...
1. Isabelle Haydon Adcock (Toys "R" Us) - ihadcock@tru.com
Postman Pat's Last Day On The Job
It was Postman Pat's last day on the job after 35 years of carrying the mail through all kinds of weather to the same neighbourhood.
When he arrived at the first house on his route, he was greeted by the whole family there, who all hugged and congratulated him and sent him on his way with a gift cheque for $500. At the second house they presented him fine Cuban cigars in an 18-carat gold box. The folks at the third house handed him a case of 30-year old Scotch whisky
At the fourth house he was met at the door by a blonde in her lingerie. She took him by the arm and led him up the stairs to the bedroom where she blew his mind with the most passionate love he had ever experienced.
When he had had enough they went downstairs, where the blonde fixed him a giant breakfast: eggs, tomatoes, ham, sausage, blueberry waffles, and freshly-squeezed orange juice. When he was truly satisfied she poured him a cup of steaming coffee. As she was pouring, he noticed a $5 note sticking out from under the cup's bottom edge.
"All this was just too wonderful for words," he said, "but what's the five dollars for?"
"Well," said the blonde, "last night, I told my husband that today would be your last day, and that we should do something special for you. I asked him what to give you. He said, 'F**k him. Give him five bucks'".
She smiled shyly and said,
"The breakfast was my idea."
When he arrived at the first house on his route, he was greeted by the whole family there, who all hugged and congratulated him and sent him on his way with a gift cheque for $500. At the second house they presented him fine Cuban cigars in an 18-carat gold box. The folks at the third house handed him a case of 30-year old Scotch whisky
At the fourth house he was met at the door by a blonde in her lingerie. She took him by the arm and led him up the stairs to the bedroom where she blew his mind with the most passionate love he had ever experienced.
When he had had enough they went downstairs, where the blonde fixed him a giant breakfast: eggs, tomatoes, ham, sausage, blueberry waffles, and freshly-squeezed orange juice. When he was truly satisfied she poured him a cup of steaming coffee. As she was pouring, he noticed a $5 note sticking out from under the cup's bottom edge.
"All this was just too wonderful for words," he said, "but what's the five dollars for?"
"Well," said the blonde, "last night, I told my husband that today would be your last day, and that we should do something special for you. I asked him what to give you. He said, 'F**k him. Give him five bucks'".
She smiled shyly and said,
"The breakfast was my idea."
Where did you have it?
Imagine sitting in traffic on your way to work and hearing this. Many Sydney folks DID hear this on the FOX FM morning show in Sydney.
The DJs play a game where they award winners great prizes. The game is called ‘Mate Match’. The DJs call someone at work and ask if they are married or seriously involved with someone. If the contestant answers ’Yes’, then he or she is then asked 3 random yet highly personal questions. The person is also asked to divulge the name of their partner (with phone number) for verification. If their partner answers those same three questions correctly, they both win the prize.
One particular game, however, several months ago made the Sydney listeners drop to their knees with laughter and is possibly the funniest thing you've heard yet. Anyway, here's how it all went down:
DJ: "Hey! This is Ed on FOX-FM. Have you ever heard of 'Mate Match'?"
Contestant: (laughing) "Yes, I have."
DJ: "Great! Then you know we're giving away a trip to the Gold Coast if you win. What is your name? First only please."
Contestant: "Fred."
DJ: "Fred, are you married or what?"
Fred: (laughing nervously) "Yes, I am married."
DJ: "Thank you. Now, what is your wife's name? First only please."
Fred: "Sarah."
DJ: "Is Sarah at work, Fred?"
Fred: "She is gonna kill me."
DJ: "Stay with me here, Fred! Is she at work?"
Fred: (laughing) "Yes, she's at work."
DJ: "Okay, first question - when was the last time you had sex?"
Fred: "About 8 o'clock this morning."
DJ: "Atta boy, Fred."
Fred: (laughing sheepishly) "Well..."
DJ: "Question #2 - How long did it last?"
Fred: "About 10 minutes."
DJ: "Wow! You really want that trip, huh? No one would ever have said that if a trip wasn't at stake."
Fred: "Yeah, that trip sure would be nice."
DJ: "Okay. Final question. Where did you have sex at 8 o'clock this morning?
Fred: (laughing hard) "I, ummm, I, well..."
DJ: "This sounds good, Fred. Where was it at?"
Fred: "Not that it was all that great, but her mum is staying with us for a couple of weeks..."
DJ: "Uh huh..."
Fred: "...and the Mother-In-Law was in the shower at the time."
DJ: "Atta boy, Fred."
Fred: "On the kitchen table."
DJ: "Not that great? That’s more adventure than the previous hundred times I've done it. Okay folks, I will put Fred on hold, get his wife's work number and call her up. You listen to this."
[ 3 minutes of commercials follow. ]
DJ: "Okay audience; let's call Sarah, shall we?"
(Touch tones.....ringing....)
Clerk: "Kinko’s."
DJ: "Hey, is Sarah around there somewhere?"
Clerk: "This is she."
DJ: "Sarah, this is Ed with FOX-FM. We are live on the air right now and I've been talking with Fred for a couple of hours now."
Sarah: (laughing) "A couple of hours?"
DJ: "Well, a while now. He is on the line with us. Fred knows not to give any answers away or you'll lose. So, do you know the rules of 'Mate Match'?"
Sarah: "No."
DJ: "Good!"
Sarah: (laughing) "Fred, what the hell are you up to?"
Fred: (laughing) "Just answer his questions honestly, okay? Be completely honest."
DJ: "Yeah yeah yeah. Sure. Now, I will ask you 3 questions, Sarah. If your answers match Fred's answers, then the both of you will be off to the Gold Coast for 5 days on us.
Sarah: (laughing) "Yes."
DJ: "Alright. When did you last have sex, Sarah?"
Sarah: "Oh God, Fred....uh, this morning before Fred went to work."
DJ: "What time?"
Sarah: "Around 8 this morning."
DJ: "Very good. Next question. How long did it last?"
Sarah: "12, 15 minutes maybe."
DJ: "Hmm. That's close enough. I am sure she is trying to protect his manhood. We've got one last question, Sarah. You are one question away from a trip to the Gold Coast. Are you ready?"
Sarah: (laughing) "Yes."
DJ: "Where did you have it?"
Sarah: "OH MY GOD, FRED!! You didn't tell them that did you?"
Fred: "Just tell him, honey."
DJ: "What is bothering you so much, Sarah?"
Sarah: "Well..."
DJ: Come on Sarah.....where did you have it?
Sarah: "Up the arse!"
After a long pause, the DJ said, "Folks, we need to take a station break"
And the drivers of Sydney almost crashed their cars laughing!
The DJs play a game where they award winners great prizes. The game is called ‘Mate Match’. The DJs call someone at work and ask if they are married or seriously involved with someone. If the contestant answers ’Yes’, then he or she is then asked 3 random yet highly personal questions. The person is also asked to divulge the name of their partner (with phone number) for verification. If their partner answers those same three questions correctly, they both win the prize.
One particular game, however, several months ago made the Sydney listeners drop to their knees with laughter and is possibly the funniest thing you've heard yet. Anyway, here's how it all went down:
DJ: "Hey! This is Ed on FOX-FM. Have you ever heard of 'Mate Match'?"
Contestant: (laughing) "Yes, I have."
DJ: "Great! Then you know we're giving away a trip to the Gold Coast if you win. What is your name? First only please."
Contestant: "Fred."
DJ: "Fred, are you married or what?"
Fred: (laughing nervously) "Yes, I am married."
DJ: "Thank you. Now, what is your wife's name? First only please."
Fred: "Sarah."
DJ: "Is Sarah at work, Fred?"
Fred: "She is gonna kill me."
DJ: "Stay with me here, Fred! Is she at work?"
Fred: (laughing) "Yes, she's at work."
DJ: "Okay, first question - when was the last time you had sex?"
Fred: "About 8 o'clock this morning."
DJ: "Atta boy, Fred."
Fred: (laughing sheepishly) "Well..."
DJ: "Question #2 - How long did it last?"
Fred: "About 10 minutes."
DJ: "Wow! You really want that trip, huh? No one would ever have said that if a trip wasn't at stake."
Fred: "Yeah, that trip sure would be nice."
DJ: "Okay. Final question. Where did you have sex at 8 o'clock this morning?
Fred: (laughing hard) "I, ummm, I, well..."
DJ: "This sounds good, Fred. Where was it at?"
Fred: "Not that it was all that great, but her mum is staying with us for a couple of weeks..."
DJ: "Uh huh..."
Fred: "...and the Mother-In-Law was in the shower at the time."
DJ: "Atta boy, Fred."
Fred: "On the kitchen table."
DJ: "Not that great? That’s more adventure than the previous hundred times I've done it. Okay folks, I will put Fred on hold, get his wife's work number and call her up. You listen to this."
[ 3 minutes of commercials follow. ]
DJ: "Okay audience; let's call Sarah, shall we?"
(Touch tones.....ringing....)
Clerk: "Kinko’s."
DJ: "Hey, is Sarah around there somewhere?"
Clerk: "This is she."
DJ: "Sarah, this is Ed with FOX-FM. We are live on the air right now and I've been talking with Fred for a couple of hours now."
Sarah: (laughing) "A couple of hours?"
DJ: "Well, a while now. He is on the line with us. Fred knows not to give any answers away or you'll lose. So, do you know the rules of 'Mate Match'?"
Sarah: "No."
DJ: "Good!"
Sarah: (laughing) "Fred, what the hell are you up to?"
Fred: (laughing) "Just answer his questions honestly, okay? Be completely honest."
DJ: "Yeah yeah yeah. Sure. Now, I will ask you 3 questions, Sarah. If your answers match Fred's answers, then the both of you will be off to the Gold Coast for 5 days on us.
Sarah: (laughing) "Yes."
DJ: "Alright. When did you last have sex, Sarah?"
Sarah: "Oh God, Fred....uh, this morning before Fred went to work."
DJ: "What time?"
Sarah: "Around 8 this morning."
DJ: "Very good. Next question. How long did it last?"
Sarah: "12, 15 minutes maybe."
DJ: "Hmm. That's close enough. I am sure she is trying to protect his manhood. We've got one last question, Sarah. You are one question away from a trip to the Gold Coast. Are you ready?"
Sarah: (laughing) "Yes."
DJ: "Where did you have it?"
Sarah: "OH MY GOD, FRED!! You didn't tell them that did you?"
Fred: "Just tell him, honey."
DJ: "What is bothering you so much, Sarah?"
Sarah: "Well..."
DJ: Come on Sarah.....where did you have it?
Sarah: "Up the arse!"
After a long pause, the DJ said, "Folks, we need to take a station break"
And the drivers of Sydney almost crashed their cars laughing!
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Know When to Quit
A guy with a 25-inch p*n*s went to a doctor and said, "I can't live with this anymore! It's too long."
The doctor replied, "I can't do anything for you, but if you see the witch doctor in the bayou, she can help you."
So, he went to the bayou and saw the witch doctor. The witch doctor said, "Go into the swamp and you will find a female frog there. Ask her to marry you. She'll say "No", and you'll lose 5 inches off your member!"
So, he went to the swamp and found the frog and asked her,"Will you marry me?"
"No!", she said. He lost 5 inches off his member!
The guy liked the results, and thought, 20 inches is just too much. So he asked the frog again, "Will you marry me?"
The frog said, "No!" And the guy lost another 5 inches. He thought, God, 15 inches is great! But 10 inches would just be perfect.
So he asked again, "Will you marry me?"
And the frog said, "How many time do I have to tell you . .. NO! NO! NO!"
Moral: Know When to Quit
The doctor replied, "I can't do anything for you, but if you see the witch doctor in the bayou, she can help you."
So, he went to the bayou and saw the witch doctor. The witch doctor said, "Go into the swamp and you will find a female frog there. Ask her to marry you. She'll say "No", and you'll lose 5 inches off your member!"
So, he went to the swamp and found the frog and asked her,"Will you marry me?"
"No!", she said. He lost 5 inches off his member!
The guy liked the results, and thought, 20 inches is just too much. So he asked the frog again, "Will you marry me?"
The frog said, "No!" And the guy lost another 5 inches. He thought, God, 15 inches is great! But 10 inches would just be perfect.
So he asked again, "Will you marry me?"
And the frog said, "How many time do I have to tell you . .. NO! NO! NO!"
Moral: Know When to Quit
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