A rather nasty and egotistical man was finally left by his wife, who then re-
married someone whom she felt would treat her with more love and kindness.
When our nasty hero happened to meet her on the street one day, he couldnt
overcome his usual tendencies, and asked her sarcastically, So, how does
that new husband of yours like fucking in used pussy?

He likes it just fine, she replied, once he gets past the used part.

On his last day on the job, a mailman is greeted by a joung housewife who invites him in for breakfast. After the feast she leads him to the bedroom for an extensive sexual romp. Afterward she gives him two dollars.

Jeez, says the mailman, this is great, but whats with the two dollars?

Well she replies,since youre retiring, I asked my husband what we should do for you. He said, Fuck him – give him a couple of bucks! Breakfast was my idea.

Virginity like bubble, one prick, all gone.
Man who run in front of car get tired.
Man who run behind car get exhausted.
Man with hand in pocket feel cocky all day.
Foolish man give wife grand piano … wise man give wife upright organ.
Man who walk through airport turnstile sideways going to Bangkok.
Man with one chopstick go hungry.
Man who scratch ass should not bite fingernails.
Man who eat many prunes get good run for money.
Baseball is wrong: man with four balls cannot walk.
Panties not best thing on earth but next to best thing on earth.
War does not determine who is right….war determine who is left.
Wife who put husband in doghouse soon find him in cat house.
Man who fight with wife all day get no piece at night.
It take many nails to build crib, but one screw to fill it.
Man who drive like hell bound to get there.
Man who stand on toilet is high on pot.
Man who live in glass house should change clothes in basement.
Man who fish in other mans well often catch crabs.
Man who fart in church sit in own pew.

A Guy goes into a bar and orders a beer, when the bartender brings his beer the Guy pays him and puts an octopus on the bar The Bartender tells him, get that thing out of here.

The Guy says, No, wait you dont understand. This is no ordinary octopus. This octopus can play any musical instrument you can think of.

The bartender says, Bullshit, no octopus can do that.

The Guy says, No, really Ill bet you one hundred dollars that you cant find a musical instrument he cant play.

The bartender says, OK youre on. Try the piano in the corner.

The Guy takes the octopus to the piano and it played like a pro. The bartender went into the back room and brought out a guitar.

The octopus played a song on it.

The bartender said, OK Im not done yet so he brings out three kinds of horns and a set of drums.

The octopus played them all.

The bartender said, Alright I have one more instrument to try before I give up. He goes in the back and comes out with a bagpipe, and sets it in the middle of the floor.

The octopus gets up on all eight legs and walks around it a couple of times then jumps on it. Then he walks around it a couple more times and jumps up and down on it a few more times.

The bartender says, There I knew I could find one he couldnt play.

The Guy said, Now just wait a minute Hell play it just as soon as he figures out he cant have sex with it.

There are more jokes like this at http://www.dirtylaughs.com

Things You Hate About Working At Mickey Ds:

People who say uh or um 50 billion times.

People who add shit at the second window.

People who have to add an A in between the M and C for anything that starts with Mc, Such as McChicken or McNuggets.

People who upsize there meals after theyve ordered 50 billion meals.

People who want no salt on their fries, just get over it!

People who ask you if youre lovin it.

People who pay entirely in change.

People who walk all over your wet floor. Theres a sign, so go around.

People who cant turn off their windshield wipers when they pull up in the drive thru.

People who bring in food from another place, and leave the trash on the table.

People who are too damn big to get in the playland who actually get in the playland.

Fat people who get enough food for 10 skinny people.

People who cant find a certain item on the menu board, look around people. Thats what its there for!

People who order something, and know absolutely nothing about it.

People who ask for combos. It isnt god damn bojangles, we have value meals!

People who have nothing better to do than hang out at McDonalds.

More to come…

On the first day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

A database with a broken b-tree
(what the hell is a b-tree anyway?)

On the second day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Two transceiver failures
(CRC errors? Collisions? What is going on?)
And a database with a broken b-tree
(Rebuild WHAT? Its a 10GB database!)

On the third day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Three French users
(who, of course, think they know everything)
Two transceiver failures
(which are now spewing packets all over the net)
And a database with a broken b-tree
(Backup? What backup?)

On the fourth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Four calls for support
(playing the same Christmas song over and over)
Three French users
(Why do they like to argue so much over trival things?)
Two transceiver failures
(How the hell do I know which ones they are?)
And a database with a broken b-tree
(Pointer error? What a pointer error?)

On the fifth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Five golden SCSI contacts
(Of course theyre better than silver!)
Four support calls
(Ever notice how time stands still when on hold?
Three French users
(No, we dont have footpedals on PCs? Why do you ask?)
Two transceiver failures
(If I knew which were bad, I would know which to fix!)
And a database with a broken b-tree
(Not till next week? Are you nuts?!?!)

On the sixth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Six games a-playing
(On the production network, of course!)
Five golden SCSI contacts
(What do you mean not terminated!)
Four support calls
(No, dont transfer me again – do you HEAR? Damn!)
Three French users
(No, you cannot scan in by putting the page to the screen …)
Two transceiver failures
(I cant look at the LEDs – theyre in the ceiling!)
And a database with a broken b-tree
(Norway? Thats where this was written?)

On the seventh day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Seven license failures
(Expired? When?)
Six games a-playing
(Please stop tying up the PBX to talk to each other!)
Five golden SCSI contacts
(What do you mean I need wide SCSI?)
Four support calls
(At least the musak is different this time …)
Three French Users
(Well, monsieur, there really isnt an any key, but …)
Two transceiver failures
(SQE? What is that? If I knew I would set it myself!)
And a database with a broken b-tree
(No, I really need to talk to Lars – NOW!)

On the eighth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Eight MODEMs dialing
(Who bought these? Theyre a security violation!)
Seven license failures
(How many WEEKS to get a license?)
Six games a-playing
(What do you mean one pixel per packet on updates?!?)
Five golden SCSI contacts
(Fast SCSI? Its supposed to be fast, isnt it?)
Four support calls
(I already told them that! Dont transfer me back – DAMN!)
Three French users
(No, CTL-ALT-DEL is not the proper way to end a program)
Two transceiver failures
(What do you mean babbling transceiver?)
And a database with a broken b-tree
(Does anyone speak English in Oslo?)

On the ninth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Nine lady executives with attitude
(She said do WHAT with the servers?)
Eight MODEMs dialing
(Youve been downloading WHAT?)
Seven license failures
(We sent the P.O. two months ago!)
Six games a-playing
(HOW many people are doing this to the network?)
Five golden SCSI contacts
(What do you mean two have the same ID?)
Four support calls
(No, I am not at the console – I tried that already.)
Three French users
(No, only one floppy fits at a time? Why do you ask?)
Two transceiver failures
(Spare? What spare?)
And a database with a broken b-tree
(No, I am trying to find Lars! L-A-R-S!)

On the tenth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Ten SNMP alerts flashing
(What is that Godawful beeping?)
Nine lady executives with attitude
(No, it used to be a mens room? Why?)
Eight MODEMs dialing
(What Internet provider? We dont allow Internet here!)
Seven license failures
(SPA? Why are they calling us?)
Six games a-playing
(No, you dont need a graphics accelerator for Lotus!)
Five golden SCSI contacts
(You mean I need ANOTHER cable?)
Four support calls
(No, I never needed an account number before …)
Three French users
(When the PC sounds like a cat, its a head crash!)
Two transceiver failures
(Power connection? What power connection?)
And a database with a broken b-tree
(Restore what index pointers?)

On the eleventh day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Eleven boards a-frying
(What is that terrible smell?)
Ten SNMP alerts flashing
(Whats a MIB, anyway? Whats an extension?)
Nine lady executives with attitude
(Mauve? Our computer room tiles in mauve?)
Eight MODEMs dialing
(What do you mean you let your roomate dial-in?)
Seven license failures
(How many other illegal copies do we have?!?!)
Six games a-playing
(I told you – AFTER HOURS!)
Five golden SCSI contacts
(If I knew what was wrong, I wouldnt be calling!)
Four support calls
(Put me on hold again and I will slash your credit rating!)
Three French users
(Dont hang your floppies with a magnet again!)
Two transceiver failures
(How should I know if the connector is bad?)
And a database with a broken b-tree
(I already did all of that!)

On the twelfth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:
Twelve virtual pipe connections
(Theres only supposed to be two!)
Eleven boards a-frying
(What a surge suppresor supposed to do, anyway?)
Ten SNMP alerts flashing
(From a distance, it does kinda look like Xmas lights.)
Nine lady executives with attitude
(What do you mean aerobics before backups?)
Eight MODEMs dialing
(No, we never use them to connect during business hours.)
Seven license failures
(Were all going to jail, I just know it.)
Six games a-playing
(No, no – my turn, my turn!)
Five golden SCSI contacts
(Great, just great! Now it wont even boot!)
Four support calls
(I dont have that package! How did I end up with you!)
Three French users
(I dont care if it is sexy, no more nude screen backrounds!)
Two transceiver failures
(Maybe we should switch to token ring …)
And a database with a broken b-tree
(No, operator – Oslo, Norway. We were just talking and were cut off …)

Origin: Written by Dr. Bill Hancock, of Network-1 Software and Technology, Inc., while bored out of his mind on an airplane.

The contemplative routine of the convent was being disrupted by the presence of workmen converting the electrical service from overhead lines to buried cable. Mother Superior called the electric companys complaint department to ask for help.

The profanity these men use constantly is unsuitable for our community. You must make them stop cursing so much., said the nun.

Very well, sister. But you must make allowances for their habits. Even when they are trying to be tactful, they will still tend to call a spade a spade., said the company spokeswoman.

Mother superior then observed, I think the term they actually use is fucking shovel!.

Whats the definition of a perfect woman?

a) Three feet tall with a round hole for a mouth and a flat head so that you can put a pint of beer on it.

b) The sports model has pullback ears and her teeth fold in.

c) The economy model fucks all night and, at midnight, turns into a roast beef sandwich and a six pack.

(Heard from a friend in New York in about 1970.)

When Lyndon Johnson was running for congress he called
his opponent a pig fucker.

Lyndons campaign manager said, Lyndon, you know he doesnt do that!

Johnson replied, I know that, but I want to make him deny it.

On a crowded airliner a five-year-old boy is throwing a wild temper tantrum.

No matter what his frustrated, embarrassed mother does to try to calm him down, the boy continues to scream furiously and kick the seats around him.

Suddenly, from the rear of the plane, an elderly minister slowly walks forward up the aisle.

Stopping the flustered mother with an upraised hand, the minister leans down and whispers something into the boys ear.

Instantly, the boy calms down, gently takes his mothers hand, and quietly fastens his seat belt.

All the other passengers burst into spontaneous applause.

As the minister slowly makes his way back to his seat, one of the stewardess takes him by the sleeve.

Excuse me, Reverend, she ways quietly, but what magic words did you use on that little boy?

The old man smiles serenely and gently says, I told him if he didnt cut that shit out, Id kick his fucking ass to the moon.