Old and New Jokes

Two military policemen were chasing a fleeing draftee from The military base.

The draftee ran into the courtyard of a convent where a nun was seated on a round bench beneath a tree quietly reading a book. He said to her quick sister, please hide me I dont want to be Drafted and the MPs are chasing me! She lifted up her skirts and said hide under my skirt.



The two policemen came By and asked if she had seen anyone. She replied no.



After they left she told the young boy to come out all was OK He said you have a nice set of legs for a nun! She replied if you reach up a little farther youll find a set of balls! Im not going to be drafted either!

Knock Knock
Whos there?
Dimension!
Dimension who?
Dimension it!

Republican boys date Democratic girls. They plan to marry Republican girls, but feel theyre entitled to a little fun first.

It was nurse Marys first day on the job and all seemed to be going well until Dr Bryce started yelling loud enough for everyone in the waiting room to hear. Over the course of a half hour or so Dr. Bryce yelled, Typhoid!, Tetanus! and Measles!. Some of the patience were starting to looking at their watches and shift in their seats. Mary became quite concerned about the mental state of her new boss, so she went over to the receptionists desk and discreetly asked, Why is Dr. Bryce behaving like this? To which the receptionist replied, Oh, dont worry about Dr. Bryce, he just likes to call the shots around here.

Heres a story by myself thats rated IQ-17: It can be appreciated
only by people with an IQ under 17. The story has no copyright.

Unless his father is rich, a graduate student in computer science will
most likely end up supporting himself by working on university research
projects or, if he doesnt speak English, by teaching undergraduates. These
students make less than a freelance can recycler. A few students work
part-time at a useful craft or trade that supports them in comfort. I
decided that I would practice such a trade: Professional sperm donation, the
jack of all trades.

During my first visit to the sperm bank, I was taken to the office of
the doctor in charge. His walls were covered by medical degrees and citations
for his achievements in sperm preservation. One of the citations said
Honorable Discharge, which I thought was a bit grandiose.

It is of the utmost importance that semen samples remain sterile,
the doctor explained.

Sterile semen? I oxymoroned.

Thus, samples must be produced by unassisted direct manual
stimulation of the genital protuberance.

Huh?

Choke the purple-helmeted love nazi.

Oh.

Furthermore, before the production of each sample, there must be
three days of abstinence.

Three days? 4320 minutes! Is that really a good idea? I had
visions of being rushed to the emergency room to have my scrotum lanced and
drained as it expanded like a Jiffy Pop bag. Im no doctor, but I think an
hour of abstinence is enough. I mean, were not aging a fine wine, are
we?…

I was scheduled for a donor room, where I would have to deliver
samples, piping hot, in 30 minutes or less. I didnt know if I could become
aroused under such conditions. I was of an impressionable age when I first
saw Racquel Welch in Fantastic Voyage, and afterward I could only be aroused
by women who wore rubber diving suits and were covered by foot-long
antibodies. (These days, having your partner in a rubber suit covered with
large antibodies is not a bad idea.) Ive since grown out of this habit.
Although now I can only become aroused by a woman if she turns the letters on
my Wheel of Fortune board game. I decided to get some mens magazines for
immoral support.

As a teenager I found Penthouse to be highly stimulating. (As a
teenager I found everything to be highly stimulating. I had to take up tennis
just to explain my tennis elbow.) However, Penthouse photographs are often
rendered in a diffused soft focus, which is why you go blind. Eyestrain is
the reason you often see men crying when they read the magazine.

Once, when I was fourteen, my father wondered if he should get a
subscription to Penthouse. Great idea! I panted. It offers an insightful
editorial posture and interviews with personalities of topical interest.

He shrugged indifferently.

You have to get it! You absolutely have to! It offers guides to
fashion and accessories, goddammit! I shrieked before passing out. Now Ive
started to actually read those articles. I used to put magazines under my
mattress so they wouldnt be found; now theyre there for lower back support.

I thought that, if Im going to be a professional in a medical
facility, I should forget the over-the-counter products like Penthouse and
look for more potent prescription remedies in the shops of the red light
district.

These magazines did not have interviews with personalities of topical
interest. Their titles generally were the names of female body parts. One
was called Female Body Parts. The magazines might serve a medical
professional as references of female anatomy and its many diseases, but they
were too much for me. I settled for this months issue of NBC Anchorwomen
in Chains.

As it turned out, I was able to wield Excalibur without anxiety in the
clinics donor room, and I looked forward to returning there on my
twice-weekly visits. I didnt appreciate it at first, but I eventually
realized what a terrific room it was. It had a wicked, shameless chair, a
voluptuous, come-hither lamp and a coy, pouting paper towel dispenser.
However, the room was small, or perhaps it only seemed so because when there
I was usually homo erectus, so I was constantly upsetting lamps and clearing
shelves. Okay, maybe not.

I produced so many test specimens that the doctor could have built an
infant from scratch and avoided conception altogether. But after several
weeks, the testing was over and I was sent back to the doctors office.

He said that I had been accepted into the program: my sperm count was
five times higher than average.

There it was. In seconds, I had become an awesome engine of
fertility, a sexual force to be feared. Condoms and diaphragms could be
shredded by my Zulu sperm cells as their superior numbers overwhelmed the
British outpost of the ovum. My minions could overcome any female
contraceptive resistance and commit countless acts of microscopic date rape.
My ego was further engorged by the fact Id finally met someone who
wanted me just for my body. I was a sex object, meat on the hoof. The doctor
obliged by talking about me in the cold quantities of sperm counts and
motilities, reciting my tale of the tape as us pro athletes call it. He
also referred to donor candidates by number instead of name to preserve
anonymity. To the doctor I was The Man With No Name, a hired gun.

A hunrd and ten million! Thats pretty good shootin, stranger.
Whatd you say your name was again?

I didnt say….

From now on, I would be paid. My one-armed bandit had consistently
hit the jackpot, and now I was going to cash in. Some guys think their penis
has a mind of its own. Mine had a career of its own.

It was during my next visit, as I approached the main desk, that I
first saw her: Candy the candystriper.

I had never been particular about my women. Two X chromosomes
sufficed. But Candy was different. Perhaps it was the three days of fluid
backing up into my brain that made her look like an angel floating toward me.
Perhaps it was her helium breast implants. All I knew was that I wanted to
suckle that bosom till I talked like Donald Duck.

She noticed my groin, which bulged handsomely due to the bag of ice
I put in my pants to keep down the swelling.

She gave me a specimen cup and I went into the donor room, where I was
great. A minute later I returned.

My headache was gone. I sauntered over to Candys desk and turned
on the charm, which I can do pretty much at will.

Sorry, but my cup runneth over with love.

She smiled the dazzling smile that is the gift of a woman with braces.
She said, You might want to zip up your fly.

Why, you eagle-eyed minx, I teased. Youve been watching my fly,
havent you, like a photographer waiting for a glimpse of the Loch Ness
monster.

She giggled. So, what do you do?

Here? Um, I do what all the other guys do. But better.

I mean, what do you do for a living?

I hung my head. Im a computer science graduate student.

Really? Can you say something in computerese?

Awk grep sed lex yacc?

She squealed with delight, and her sudden increase in body heat caused
her implants to expand. I had it made.

On our first date, I learned all about her. A woman of compassion,
she had bought a water bed because it made the fleet feel more at home. She
had also bought a high-tech, no-mess vibrator, only to learn it was an
electric orange juicer.

I thought it would be responsible of me to inquire about her medical
history. Her gynecologist had said that, though she needed retreads, she
didnt have any social diseases. This was a relief because it meant the
president wouldnt have to order a stand down of all naval operations. Her
neurologist had said that her brain was still a virgin, its fragile tissues
untouched by knowledge.

Her favorite literary work was Kafkas Metamorphosis. She hadnt
read it, but she had seen an ad for the promo of the music video. She could
empathize with a human mind that finds itself trapped inside the body of an
insect, because she suffered the opposite problem.

She was the girl of my dreams.

Toward the end of the evening, I made my move. Pound bang slash bin
slash cush semi ell ess minus ell splat.

She fell against me, nearly swooning. Should I strike while the iron
is hot? The sperm bank had already scheduled to within 4 minutes every
ejaculation I would have in the next year. But how often does a man find true
love? I decided I would service both Candy and the sperm bank, spreading
myself thin, so to speak.

Candy, would you like to go to my place and view my itchings? We
could practice CPR. Ill check you for tumors. Maybe a lower GI series?

We got to my apartment and with a flourish I opened the door to my
my lair of lust. Welcome to my Altar of Ecstasy, my Boudoir of Bliss.

Gee, it looks just like a sperm donor room.

We wasted no time. She was so hot her bust deployed like a Chrysler
air bag. All night it was twiddle twiddle twiddle pipe mount socket pound
bang pound bang splat return. Consummate, consummate, consummate.

In the morning I staggered to the sperm bank. The vigor of youth had
abandoned me. I needed a heavy styling mousse to achieve the hardness needed
to raise my flag over Iwo Jima and produce a specimen. The cup wouldve held
more microbes if it was filled with Jersey tapwater.

Unfortunately, the doctor chose that day for a spot check of my
handiwork. He looked at my specimen under a microscope, but couldnt find
anything. He continued hunting for Red October and finally found a sperm.
It tried to swim, but then it grabbed its chest and rolled over.

So, my career ended as soon as it started. But my romance has
flourished. Candy has proven to be a challenging libidinal dynamo, but
nothing me and some new vacuum cleaner attachments cant handle.

Joe has always had an uncontrollable twitch in his left eyelid since
young. Fred has a splitting headache and asks Joe to go get some
aspirins. Half an hour later Joe comes back with a dozen packets
of condoms.

I asked you to get me aspirins, not condoms.

Yeah, I went to a dozen drug stores, but have you ever tried asking
for aspirin with a tic in your eye?

He won first prize for his dried arrangement.

A Soviet emigre boy and girl come to a doctors office and say: Doctor, we would like to know if we are screwing properly. Will you watch us, please?

The doctor, somewhat puzzled, agrees, they climb on his table, the boy gets on top of the girl, and they have sex. After observing them, the doctor says, Yes, youre having sex properly. That will be forty dollars.

They come back the next day with the same request, but this time the boy enters the girl from the rear. They keep coming for four days in a row, using different positions every day.

On the fifth visit the doctor says, Why do you keep on coming back?

I told you youre having sex properly.

The boy explains, The hotel room costs the same forty dollars, but this way we get reimbursed by Medicaid.

Why are there flotation devices under plane seats instead of parachutes?

Why are cigarettes sold in gas stations when smoking is prohibited there?

Why do fat chance and slim chance mean the same thing?

If you cant drink and drive, why do you need a drivers license to buy liquor, and why do bars have parking lots?

Do you need a silencer if you are going to shoot a mime?

Yo mama so old her birth certificate is in Roman numerals.