Two good ol boys, Bubba and Junior get promoted from Privates to Sergeants.
Not long after, theyre out for a walk and Bubba says, Hey, Junior – theres the NCO Club. Lets you and me stop in and have us a drank.
But wes privates, protests Junior.
NO, wes sergeants now, says Bubba, pulling him inside
Now, Junior, Im gonna sit down and have me a drank.
But, wes privates, says Junior.
You blind, boy! says Bubba, pointing at his stripes. Wes Sergeants now!
So they order their drinks and pretty soon a hooker comes up to Bubba.
Youre cute, she says, and Id like to take you someplace and make you feel good — but Ive got a bad case of gonorrhea.
Bubba pulls his friend to the side and whispers, Junior, go look in the dictionary and see what that gonorrhea means. If its good, give me the okay sign.
Junior goes to look it up, comes back, and gives Bubba the big okay sign.
Three weeks later Bubba is laid up in the infirmary with a terrible case of gonorrhea.
Junior, he says, What you give me the okay for?!
Well Bubba, in the dictionary, it says gonorrhea only affects the privates.
Then he pointed to his stripes and says, But wes Sergeants now!
20. If your breakfast consists of a coke on the way to class
The first word spoken by children with older siblings.
Where do forest rangers go to get away from it all?
Dear Abby:I am a crack dealer in New Jersey who has recently been diagnosed as a carrier of HIV. My parents live in a suburb of Philadelphia and one of my sisters, who lives in Bensenville, is married to a transvestite.My father and mother have recently been arrested for growing and selling
marijuana and are currently dependent on my other two sisters who are prostitutes in Jersey City.I have two brothers. One is currently serving a non-parole life sentence in Attica for murder of a teenage boy in 1994. The other brother is currently being held in the Wellington Remand Center on charges of neglecting his three children.I have recently become engaged to marry a former Thai prostitute who
lives in the Bronx and, indeed, is still a part-time working girl in a brothel. Her time there is limited, however, as we hope to open our own brothel with her as the working manager. I am hoping my two sisters
would be interested in joining our team. Although I would prefer them not
to prostitute themselves, it would get them off the street, and, hopefully, the heroin.My problem is this: I love my fiancee and look forward to bringing her into the family, and of course, I want to be totally honest with her about my past.Should I tell her about my cousin who voted for Gore?
[Ed: I am not sure everybody will enjoy this joke. Who am I to deny that
my moods dictate what jokes I like. Only send me jokes when I am in
a funny mood.]
(You must have experienced pompous academicians to appreciate this
joke. You have been warned.)
Once upon a time, a young man went to the circus. He was very
excited, as he lived in western Manitoba and had never
seen a circus before; the kind of town where you shave and the
trolly stops. Anyway, as circus days drew nigh, the young man
grew ever more excited. He arrived before dawn to get the
best seat in the house, and was seated hours before the first
trapeze act.
Finally, the trapeze artists gave an awe-inspiring performance,
the elephants danced, and the lion tamer tamed. At last, the
clowns came out in full regalia and green hair. They rode around
by the gross in a purple volkswagon. The volksie pulled up
to center of the ring, and an overweight clown with orange
hair, acne, and a purple nose advanced to the podium:
Will the person in section A, row Y, seat 42 please stand up?
The young man looked at his ticket, and to his surprise, he was
sitting in that very seat. The young man stood up.
Clown sez, Wellllll, theres the horses ass, now wheres the
rest of the horse?
The man, dumbfounded, stood for a moment, then made his way
quickly through crowd and out of the tent. Returning home,
the man wept for days, and mourned the loss of dignity and honor.
Eventually reason overcame his grief and the man grew determined.
Im not going to get mad, Im going to get even, and avenge the
honor of myself, my family, and this town, exclaimed
the man. He picked up the curriculum guide for the University
of Nevada at Las Vegas (UNLV) correspondence courses and started
to read.
Eventually his eyes came to rest on an advert for a class in
Quick Wit Retort. Learn how to use those snappy comebacks
to your advantage, now! So the man sent in his $19.95 and
soon received the course materials. In a few weeks, the man
mastered the materials, and sent the final back to UNLV.
Much to his surprise, a registered letter arrived from the
president of UNLV. It read:
Dear Sir: We are utterly flabbergasted at your performance
in Quick Wit Retort 101. We would be most gratified if you
could come to UNLV to complete your degree with our fine
academic institution. Heres a check to cover your expenses.
To make a long story short :-), the man made straight As in
the QWR program. He was awarded numerous distinctions, and
when he graduated, the graduation speaker Ed Meese awarded
the man the Presidential Medal of Outstanding Quick Wit Retort,
signed by Ronnie himself!
Some days afterward, Harvard University sent a lear-jet to
pick the man up for an interview. The graduate admissions
officer didnt mince words. If you complete our masters/doctoral
tenured track program in QWR, you will never have
to worry about money again, said he. Needless to say, the man
promptly moved to Cambridge.
In 5 years, the man had finished his doctorate. By this time,
the man was known throughout the world as the leading expert
in Quick Wit Retort. Word had even reached western Manitoba,
which made his mother very proud. Everyone from Pentagon
pundits to Beltway bandits consulted the man on technical
questions of QWR.
One day, while sitting at his desk reading his hometown
newspaper, the man noticed that the circus was coming to
his hometown again. An evil smile crossed the mans face.
Siegfried, cried the man to his assistant, We must be
away to Manitoba. Ready the jet! As the plane crossed
the downlands of Michigan, the man savored the moment of
victory that was to be his.
The man arrived at the circus tent very early, making sure
to get the seat in section A, row Y, seat 42.
Finally, the trapeze artists gave an awe-inspiring performance,
the elephants danced, and the lion tamer tamed. At last, the
clowns came out in full regalia and green hair. They rode around
by the gross in a purple volkswagon. The volksie pulled up
to center of the ring, and an overweight clown with orange
hair, acne, and a purple nose advanced to the podium:
Will the person in section A, row Y, seat 42 please stand up?
The man glanced at his ticket. This time he was ready.
Clown sez, Wellllll, theres the horses ass, now wheres the
rest of the horse?
The man rose to his feet, full of confidence. He thrust out his
chest and said in the loudest voice you can imagine:
FUCK YOU, CLOWN!!!!
Robert C. White, Jr. Graphics Information, Inc.
A soldier in Vietnam saw a local man coming down the road with his wife behind him with a bicycle loaded with all their worldly possessions. The soldier asked him why he carried nothing but a cigarette and his wife had to push the bicycle alone. The man replied, TRADITION.
Two weeks later he saw the same local man on the same road but this time she was in front and he was pushing the loaded bicycle. The soldier asked him what happened to TRADITION and the man said LAND MINES
A visitor to the vatican met with the Pope and noticed a red phone sitting on his desk.
Whats that for?, he asked.
Oh, thats the direct line to the Lord said the Pope.
The visitor said, Wow, how much is a call?
The Pope answered, $2,000 per minute.
A few days later the same visitor met the Israeli Prime Minister and noticed a red phone on his desk.
Whats that for?, he asked. Oh, thats the direct line to the Lord said the Prime Minister.
The visitor asked How much is a call?
The Prime Minister said 20 cents per minute.
The astonsished visitor said, It cant be. I just saw the Pope who said a call to the Lord is $2,000 per minute.
The Prime Minister answered, That was long distance, here the Lord is just a local call.
A little corporate humor
———————-
I took some friends out to dinner last week, and I noticed a spoon in the shirt pocket of our waiter as he handed us the menus. It seemed a little odd, but I dismissed it as a random thing. Until our busboy came with water & tableware; he too, sported a spoon in his breast pocket. I looked around the room, and all the waiters, waitresses, busboys, etc. had spoons in their pockets.
When our waiter returned to take our order, I just had to ask, Why the spoons?
Well, he explained, our parent company recently hired some Andersen
Consulting efficiency experts to review all our procedures, and after
months of statistical analyses, they concluded that our patrons drop
spoons on the floor 73% more often than any other utensil; at a frequency of 3 spoons per hour per workstation. By preparing all our workers for this contingency in advance, we can cut our trips to the kitchen down and save time…nearly 1.5 extra man-hours per shift.
Just as he concluded, a ch-ching came from the table behind him, and he quickly replaced a fallen spoon with the one from his pocket.
Ill grab another spoon the next time Im in the kitchen instead of
making a special trip, he proudly explained.
I was impressed. Thanks. I had to ask.
No problem, he answered, then he continued to take our orders.
As the members of my dinner party took their turns, my eyes darted
back & forth from each person ordering and my menu. Thats when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a thin, black thread protruding from our waiters fly. Again, I dismissed it; yet I had to scan the room and, sure enough, there were other waiters & busboys with strings hanging out of their trousers.
My curiosity overrode discretion at this point, so before he could leave I had to ask. Excuse me, but…uh…why, or what…about that string?
Oh, yeah he began in a quieter tone. Not many people are that observant. That same efficiency group found we could save time in the Mens room, too. Hows that, I asked?
You see, by tying a string to the end of our, eh. . ., selves, we can
pull it out at the urinals literally hands-free and thereby eliminate
the need to wash our hands, cutting time spent in the restroom by over
93%! Oh, that makes sense, I said, but then thinking through the
process, I asked, Hey, wait a minute. If the string helps you pull it out, how do you get it back in?
Well, he whispered, I dont know about the other guys; but I use
the spoon in my pocket!
Choose your favourite rude one!
Who lit the fuse on your tampon?
Support Cannibalism – EAT ME!
God is my co-pilot, but the Devil is my bombardier.
I dont have a license to kill. I have a learners permit.
I wasnt born a bitch. Men like you made me this way.
Keep honking while I reload.
Taxation WITH representation isnt so hot either!
Who were the beta testers for Preparations A through G?
Madness takes its toll. Please have exact change.
5 days a week my body is a temple. The other two, its an amusement park.
EARTH FIRST! Well strip-mine the other planets later.
Your child may be an honor student but youre still an idiot.
If you drink, dont park. Accidents cause people.
If you can read this, I can hit my brakes and sue you.
Save the whales! Trade them for valuable prizes.
Whitewater is over when the First Lady sings.
Jack Kevorkian for White House physician.
Just say no! to sex with pro-lifers.
My wife keeps complaining I never listen to her … or something like that.
Sure you can trust the government! Just ask an Indian!
Alcohol and calculus dont mix. Never drink and derive.
If we are what we eat; Im cheap, fast, and easy.
Stop repeat offenders. Dont re-elect them!