Knock Knock
Whos there?
Aldo!
Aldo who?
Aldo anywhere with you!

One day in the future, Bill Clinton has a heart attack, dies prematurely —
and goes straight to Hell. The Devil greets him, but says I dont know
exactly what to do with you. Of course you are on my list, so you will have
to stay — but you got here a little earlier than I expected and I dont have
your room ready yet.

The Devil thinks for a moment and says, Tell you what I can do. There are a
couple folks here who werent quite as bad as you were. I can let one of them
go so long as you take their place. Ill even let you decide who gets to
leave.

Clinton thought that sounded pretty good, so the Devil opened the first room.
In it was Ted Kennedy and a large pool of water. He kept diving in and
surfacing empty handed. Over and over and over. Such was his fate in hell.

No, Bill said. I dont think so. Im not a good swimmer and I dont think
I could be doing that all day long.

The Devil led him to the next room. In it was Newt Gingrich with a
sledgehammer and a room full of rocks. All he did was swing that hammer, over
and over again.

No, Ive got this problem with my shoulder. I would be in constant agony if
all I could do was break rocks all day, said Bill.

The devil opened a third door. In it, ClintonÊsaw Jesse Jackson, lying on the
floor with his arms staked over his head, and his legs staked in a spread
eagle position. Bent over him was Monica Lewinsky, doing what she does best.

His eyes widening in disbelief, Clinton grinned as he took in the whole
picture and said, Oh yea, I know can handle this.

The Devil nodded and smiled. OK, Monica, youre free to go!

Why is phonics not spelled the way it sounds? >

What do you do after you unload three rounds of shotgun shells into a black man?

Stop laughing and reload.

yo mommas so fat that when she was born she made the Grand Canyon

What is the last thing to go through a bugs mind when it hits your windshield?

Its ass.

On the 12 days of Christmas, my true love gave to me:

12 sound cards silent

11 instructions faulty

10 modes not supported

9 apps a crashin

8 Megs overflowin

7 files missin

6 ints conflictin

5 eighty six

4 sectors bad

3 ports not responding

2 GPFs

and Windows 98 for my PC

This really happened:

I was calling funeral homes getting information about making pre-need
funeral arrangements for an elderly relative. The woman I talked with
at [name deleted] funeral home, just across the street from St.
[mother of Gods name deleted]s Catholic Church told me, …and that
cemetery requires a burial vault. Most of the cemeteries around here
now require a vault. The lowest price vault we have is $552. The most
popular one is $772 and it comes with a lifetime guarantee.

Recently, the Society For Evil Overlords has noticed a regrettable
decline in the availability and quality of fanatical henchmen, evil
priests, and willing sacrificial victims. We wish to correct this growing
problem by submitting the following general guidelines for Cultists.

Pick one faith and stay with it. Dilettantism is the
mark of the amateur.
Avoid needless embarrassment. Practise the correct
pronunciation of your deitys name in the privacy of your
own room before chanting it in public. Flash cards are
often helpful.
Never invoke anything bigger than your head.
Avoid all cabalistic jewelry over ten pounds in weight–
it attracts unwelcome attention from tourists, policemen,
various supernatural creatures, and can be downright
dangerous during thunderstorms.
Citronella candles may not be used in rituals. I cannot
stress this enough. Pastel-colored candles in the shape of
cute animals are like beacons to the Powers of Darkness.
Always keep your kit with you: candles, chalk, incense,
silver knife, Thuggee cord, service revolver, garlic,
Yellow Sign, cabfare, condoms, and change.
NEVER be the cultist that goes to rough up the hero(es).
Ransacking hotel rooms is probably safe, but going round to
beat up the good guys is a sure route to the bottom of the
Thames.
When the Black Mass goes awry, stay away from the Evil
Priest. Enraged demons always go for the pompous.
Dont gloat.
If you cant resist gloating, dont reveal your plans.
If you do gloat and reveal your plans, dont leave the
hero(es) to die slowly. They dont.
If you gloat, reveal your plans, and leave the hero(es)
to die slowly, dont have the audacity to look surprised
when they turn up at the last moment to foil your evil plot.
The hero (or heroes) will always show up at the last
possible moment to foil your plans. With this in mind,
start half an hour early– they hate that.
Plan ahead by selecting ceremonial robes that are easy
to run in while still affording ample concealment.
Never screw anything whose genetic structure you are not
absolutely comfortable with.
Never admit to screwing anything whose genetic structure
you are not absolutely comfortable with.
When a religious artifact begins emitting light, CLOSE
YOUR EYES. Thousands of cultists could be saved every year
if theyd just remember this simple safety tip.
When mutilating cattle, avoid the ones with testicles.
During ritual sacrificing, taking bits home for later is
now generally considered bad form.
Blood tests are now required for all sacrificial victims
before the ritual. The effects of HIV+ offerings on the
average malefic deity have never been witnessed by anyone
living, or even intact.
Contrary to historical belief, drugs and invocations do
not mix. When the shit comes down, it is vitally necessary
to be able to discern between the gibbering monstrosity to
throw the holy water on and the gibbering monstrosity that
will fade away after a few hours, some B-complex, and a good
hot bath.
Never play strip Tarot.
Piety and belief are powerful things, and few forces in
nature can stand against one who is true to his faith, his
God, and his own soul. However, it is also true that the
Gods tend to side with the heaviest artillery, so be
prepared change sides at the drop of a hat.
For those situations where a fresh, living sacrifice is
just not feasible (or even possible), the lower ranks of
demons can be fooled by microwaving a previously-frozen
chunk of ex-victim and cleverly jiggling it. However, a
mock victim sculpted from Spam(tm) is right out.

Twas the night before Christmas, and God was it neat,
The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat.

The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook,
It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.

Mama in her teddy, and I in the nude,
Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube.

When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,
That I lost my boner and poor Mama went dry.

Up to the window I sprang like an elf,
Tore back the shade while she played with herself.

The moon on the crest of the snowman we built,
Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a rusty old sleigh and 8 mangy reindeer.

With a fat little driver half out of his sled,
A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head.

Sure as Im speaking, he was as high as a kite,
And he yelled to his team, but it didnt sound right.

Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz,
Either slow down this rig or Ill cut off your nuts.

Look out for the lamp post, and dont hit the tree,
Quit shaking the sleigh, cause I gotta go pee.

They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,
Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard such a clatter,
As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.

I was donning my jacket to cover my ass,
When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.

His suit was all smelly with perfume galore,
He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore.

That was some brothel he said with a smile,
The reindeer are pooped, so Ill just stay here a while.

He walked to the kitchen, himself poured a drink,
Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.

I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee,
The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,
But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.

The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,
The next was a handgun, with a penis that spits.

A box filled with condoms was Santas next find,
And a six pack of panties, the edible kind.

A bra without nipples, a penis extension,
And several other things I shouldnt even mention.

A fuck ring, a g-string, and all types of oil,
A dildo so long, it lay in a coil.

This stuff aint for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit,
So Ill leavem here, and then Ill haveta split.

He filled every stocking and then took his leave,
With one tiny butt plug left under his sleeve.

He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,
Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.

In time he was seated, took the reigns of his hitch,
Saying, Take me home Rudolph, this nights been a BITCH!

The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,
The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!