Old and New Jokes

A group of people were in a shipwreck and were stranded on an island.

The group consisted of 12 women and 1 man. After a few months, the women grew horny and it was decided that the man needed to take two women a day and they allowed him to have Sundays off.

One day on a day off, he was just relaxing when he noticed a boat nearing. He felt hopeful that maybe they would be rescued, at last.

The boat was almost to the island when the guy noticed it was a man in the boat. As he got out the first guy said Oh my God buddy, am I ever glad to see YOU, To which the second guy responded Well alright sweetie! Its been a long time for me too.

The first man exclaimed Oh hell, there go my Sundays!

When everybody on earth was dead and waiting to enter Paradise, God appeared and said, I want the men to make two lines: one line for the men who were true heads of their household and the other line for the men who were dominated by their women. I want all the women to report to St Peter. Soon, the women were gone and there were two lines of men. The line of the men who were dominated by their wives was 100 miles long, and in the line of men who truly were heads of their household, there was only one man.God said, You men should be ashamed of yourselves. I created you to be the head of your household. You have been disobedient and not fulfilled your purpose. I told you to be the spiritual leader in your family. Of all of you only one obeyed. Learn from him. Tell them, my son, how did you manage to be the only one in this line? The man replied, I dont know, my wife told me to stand here.

Late one Saturday night, after a long and difficult day of visiting hospitals, nursing homes and elderly members of the congregation, a Southern Baptist preacher was making his weary way home.

As he traveled the hilly, curving country road, he overtook a car. The slow moving car was weaving from one side of the road to the other in a most disturbing manner. Being familiar with most residents of the area he recognized the car as belonging to a member of his congregation.

Oh no, said the preacher to himself, Frank Johnson has fallen off the wagon again. The way that car is weaving, he must be really plastered. I better pull up beside him and get him to stop before he hurts himself.

Putting thought to action, the preacher pulled along side Franks car just in time for the next swerve to run him off the road. Over the shoulder, down a steep bank, the preachers car rolled over twice and came to rest against a large pine tree.

Not completely senseless to the world, Frank stopped his car and staggered back to a point above the preachers car. Fortunately, the preacher had been using a seat belt. That and the relatively slow speed had prevented any injury.

When Frank saw someone struggling out of the wrecked car, he yelled, Who the hell are you?

The preacher yelled back, Frank Johnson, dont you talk to me like that.

My God preacher, that you?

Yes Frank, it is, and Ill thank you not to take the Lords name in vain. Its already bad enough that youre drunk.

You OK preacher?

Yes Frank, fortunately the Lord was with me.

You better let him ride with me. Way you drive, you gona kill him.

Theres a teacher in a small Texas town. She asks her class how many of them are Bush fans. Not really knowing what a Bush fan is, but wanting to be liked by the teacher, all the kids raise their hands except one boy, Little Johnny.

The teacher asks Little Johnny why he has decided to be different.

Little Johnny says, Im not a Bush fan.

The teacher says, Why arent you a Bush fan?

Little Johnny says, Im a John F. Kerry fan.

The teacher asks why hes a Kerry fan, and Little Johnny says, Well, my moms a Kerry fan, and my Dads a Kerry fan, so Im a Kerry fan!

The teacher is kind of angry, because this is Texas, so she says, What if your Mom was a moron, and youre dad was an idiot… what would that make you?

Little Johnny says, Well, that would make me a Bush fan.

A guy driving a Yugo pulls up at a stoplight next to a Rolls-Royce. The driver of the Yugo rolls down his window and shouts to the driver of the Rolls, Hey, buddy, thats a nice car. You got a phone in your Rolls? Ive got one in my Yugo!

The driver of Rolls looks over and says simply, Yes I have a phone.

The driver of the Yugo says, Cool! Hey, you got a fridge in there too? Ive got a fridge in the back seat of my Yugo!

The driver of the Rolls, looking annoyed, says, Yes, I have a refrigerator.

The driver of the Yugo says, Thats great, man! Hey, you got a TV in there, too? You know, I got a TV in the back seat of my Yugo!

The driver of the Rolls, looking very annoyed by now, says, Of course I have a television. A Rolls-Royce is the finest luxury car in the world!

The driver of the Yugo says, Very cool car! Hey, you got a bed in there, too? I got a bed in the back of my Yugo!

Upset that he did not have a bed, the driver of the Rolls-Royce sped away, and went straight to the dealer, where he promptly ordered that a bed be installed in the back of the Rolls. The next morning, the driver of the Rolls picked up the car, and the bed looked superb, complete with silk sheets and brass trim. It was clearly a bed fit for a Rolls Royce.

So the driver of the Rolls begins searching for the Yugo, and he drove all day. Finally, late at night, he finds the Yugo parked, with all the windows fogged up from the inside. The driver of the Rolls got out and knocked on the Yugo. When there wasnt any answer, he knocked and knocked, and eventually the owner stuck his head out, soaking wet.

I now have a bed in the back of my Rolls-Royce, the driver of the Rolls stated arrogantly!

The driver of the Yugo looked at him and said, You got me out of the shower for that!

There was this man in a mental hospital, all day he would put his ear to the wall and listen. The doctor watched this guy do this day after day. So the doctor finally decided to see what the guy was listening to, so he put his ear up to the wall and listened. He heard nothing. So he turned to the mental patient and said he didnt hear anything. The mental patient said that he knew, itd been like that for months.

When the body was first made, all the parts wanted to be Boss.

The brain said, I should be Boss because I control the whole bodys responses and functions.

The feet said, We should be Boss as we carry the brain about and get him to where he wants to go.

The hands said, We should be the Boss because we do all the work and earn all the money.

And so it went on and on with the heart, the lungs and the eyes until finally the asshole spoke up. All the parts laughed at the idea of the asshole being the Boss. So the asshole went on strike, blocked itself up and refused to work.

Within a short time the eyes became crossed, the hands clenched, the feet twitched, the heart and lungs began to panic and the brain fevered.

Eventually they all decided that the asshole should be the Boss, so the motion was passed. All the other parts did all the work while the Boss just sat and passed out the shit!

Moral of the story: You dont need brains to be a Boss – any asshole will do!

The members of the Explorers Club gathered at their meeting house one evening to find Sir Ferdinand Feghoot sipping a brandy while leaning gingerly against the fireplace mantel. Ferdinand, old boy, shouted Sir Roger, Back so soon from the Peoples Republic? Sit down and tell us all about it.

Sir Ferdinand grimaced. Id rather NOT sit down, Roggie old boy. But, yes, my mission to China was a success. Not to China, rather, but to old Tibet, the roof of the world, shamelessly annexed by the Red Chinese.

What brought you to such a cold, inhospitable place, asked Sir Thomas. Searching for ancient Buddhist Sutras? Or perhaps on the trail of the Abominable Snowman?

Theyre called Yetis, these days, Tommie, replied Ferdinand, But, no, I was invited to help exorcize an abandoned Buddhist temple. My friend Lama Mipham was allowed to restore a long unused temple by the Chinese government. Not for worship, you understand, but as a museum to further extol the glories of the Peoples Republic. Lama Mipham felt that even for his people merely to have access to the art and architectural treasures stored therein would help prevent the further loss of their traditions.

But imagine his surprise, as he began clearing the temple, at being physically attacked!

By brigands? asked Sir Rupert, Temple robbers, prying loose rubies as big as your fist, that were used as third-eye ornaments in enormous idols?

Lama Mipham is an expert martial artist, Feghoot explained. He could deal with common criminals. No, he was attacked by supernatural defenders of the faith. Dakinis.

Dakinis? all the club members muttered in disbelief.

Yes. It means skywalker, you know. Ghostly women, of all sizes, skin colors, some with animal heads, each armed with a mystical weapon that produces very real physical damage.

No wonder this monk fellow asked for your assistance, said Sir Edmund, Youre well known as an accomplished exorcist. Do sit down and elaborate.

Once again, Feghoot demurred. Ill not be sitting down for quite a while, Im afraid. But I rushed to the temple, armed with holy water, and a nasty three-sided dagger called a purba that can pierce ghostly flesh.

How exciting, whispered Sir Oscar.

No sooner did Lama Mipham and I enter the temple, than a huge, lion-headed, dark green Dakini with a head-chopping sword gave an ear-shattering shriek. Lama Mipham splashed holy water on her, and she vanished.

Then a giantess, at least 12 feet tall, a red skinned Dakini, hurled an arm-binding noose over us, but as she drew us forward I stabbed her with the purba, and she vanished.

Next, a hugely obese dakini, blue-black with flames coming out of every pore hurled a shoulder-piercing trident at Lama Mipham, but he ducked, and countered by chanting the weapon mantra, PHAT! and she vanished.

Insulted, I should guess, chuckled Sir Bernard.

Well, to make a long story shorter, concluded Sir Ferdinand, There were dozens of dakinis, but Lama Mipham and I vanquished every one of them, although one of diminutive size (no bigger than my thumb) and saffron hue managed to avoid my attention and wounded me in an embarrassing part of my anatomy.

Sir Harold gasped. You mean…

Feghoot nodded. … She was an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, yellow, poke-a-butt Dakini. (ByAdam E. Ek based on a character by Reginald Bretner)

Como saben, en español se puede hablar de la computadora, el computador o el ordenador. Recientemente, un grupo de científicos en computación (todos hombres) anunciaron que debería hablarse de las computadoras y referirse a estos objetos en femenino. Sus razones para esto fueron:

Cinco razones por las que las computadoras pertenecen al género femenino:

1. Nadie, excepto el Creador, entiende su lógica interna;

2. El idioma nativo que utilizan para comunicarse entre ellas es incomprensible a cualquier otro ser;

3. El mensaje Error de comando o nombre de archivo incorrecto es tan informativo como: Si no sabes por qué estoy enojada contigo, entonces no te lo voy a decir.

4. Tus menores errores son almacenados en la memoria a largo plazo, para uso posterior;

5. En cuanto incorporas una a tu vida, te das cuenta que estás gastando la mitad de tu sueldo en accesorios para ella.

Sin embargo, otro grupo de científicos en computación (todas mujeres) piensan que deberíamos referirnos a estos objetos en su forma masculina. Estas son sus razones:

Cinco razones para creer que las computadoras son de género masculino:

1. Contienen un montón de información, pero no tienen ni idea para que sirve;

2. Se supone que te ayudan a resolver problemas, pero la mitad del tiempo son el problema;

3. En cuanto incorporas uno de ellos a tu vida, te das cuenta de que, si hubieras esperado un poquito más, podías haber conseguido un modelo mejor;

4. Para que te presten atención, tienes que encenderlos;

5. Grandes consumos de energía los dejan inútiles por el resto de la noche.

Bobby was in the jacuzzi with three other gays telling them his gay penises joke; suddenly alot of spunk floats to the top, everyone shouts Bobby have you farted again!