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Jokes
- Thread starter dgabriel
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Quote from howellpar:
Flytiger - problem is, once Mommy tries Grizzly she may want nothing else but that ever again. . . .
So, it's death row at the pound. The beagle looks at the poodle. "Whatya in for?" " Well, I bit the mailman. Automatic death sentence."
Poodle asks the beagle,'why they puttin' you down?" "Meter reader. How was I know? I thought he was a thief. I tackled him, and bit him a few times. No reprieve there.'
They both look at the Great Dane. "Oh. Well, my mistress was getting out of the shower, and facing away, she bent over to dry her feet. When I saw you like that, I couldn't help myself, and took her right then and there."
"wow, so they're puttin' you down too?"
"Naw. I'm gettin' my nails clipped."
OK. Baseball season is coming up, and here's some trivia. Read the questions, formulate your answer, and scroll down. The NY METS in 1961 drafted the All Star Second Baseman from the SF GIANTS who was famous for blousing out his uniform, and getting hit by pitched balls. He held the record for many years. He was :
In 1965, the greatest Phenom since Williams caught one in the face, and never realized his potential. He was :
The record for getting HBP (hit by pitch) was eclipsed by the later manager of the Colorado Rockies, a power hitter famous for crowding the plate. He was:
Finally. This individual holds the dubious distinction of getting hit in the face with the most balls in one year. He was: Scroll down
1. Ron Hunt
2. Tony Conigliaro
3. Don Baylor
4. Liberace
I think I made this one up, and I set my wife up with it one day, and then at the club over a couple of beers, one guy was laughing so hard, he was pounding me on the back. I hope you cats can get some mileage from it. By the way, when I got to the Conigliaro part one time, I had a Boston Mick, "Jeeze, me and Margarite were at that game. We had seats behind home plate..." Talking aobt ruining timing.
In 1965, the greatest Phenom since Williams caught one in the face, and never realized his potential. He was :
The record for getting HBP (hit by pitch) was eclipsed by the later manager of the Colorado Rockies, a power hitter famous for crowding the plate. He was:
Finally. This individual holds the dubious distinction of getting hit in the face with the most balls in one year. He was: Scroll down
1. Ron Hunt
2. Tony Conigliaro
3. Don Baylor
4. Liberace
I think I made this one up, and I set my wife up with it one day, and then at the club over a couple of beers, one guy was laughing so hard, he was pounding me on the back. I hope you cats can get some mileage from it. By the way, when I got to the Conigliaro part one time, I had a Boston Mick, "Jeeze, me and Margarite were at that game. We had seats behind home plate..." Talking aobt ruining timing.
President Bush did advertisement for Disney's Baby Einstein product line during last night's State of the Union Address. This must be a historical first. It opens up a new line of thinking on how to reduce the national debt - product placement, just like what they do in pro sports.
The president just called for the creation of 4 or 5 new divisions. Sure, we could dredge up a bunch of old meaningless numbers, but that doesn't make any money.
Now, if you let the free market bid on naming those divisions - that's big time revenue. The Tostitos Armored Division has got to be hundreds of times the value of the Tostitos Fiesta Bowl (or whatever it is now). And thats 20000 people proudly displaying your brand name on their uniforms every single day - lining up behind the president for photo ops, or firing a Tostitos branded Abrams at a terrorist village for the nightly news.
And let's face it... the Exxon 82nd Airborn division makes an awful lot of sense when you get right down to their mission.
The president just called for the creation of 4 or 5 new divisions. Sure, we could dredge up a bunch of old meaningless numbers, but that doesn't make any money.
Now, if you let the free market bid on naming those divisions - that's big time revenue. The Tostitos Armored Division has got to be hundreds of times the value of the Tostitos Fiesta Bowl (or whatever it is now). And thats 20000 people proudly displaying your brand name on their uniforms every single day - lining up behind the president for photo ops, or firing a Tostitos branded Abrams at a terrorist village for the nightly news.
And let's face it... the Exxon 82nd Airborn division makes an awful lot of sense when you get right down to their mission.
Quote from max401:
...and the punchline is?
Two women, one a brunette and one a blonde, are standing next to each other at a party. As they begin to make small talk, a man walks up to them and asks if they know where the crudités are.
The blonde slaps him and yells, "We are not crude, we're classy!" The brunette points over to the veggies on the table next to them.
As he walks towards the table, another man walks up to the women, and asks, "Excuse me, do you know where the punch line is?" The blonde turns to the brunette and says, "Don't point--I got this one!" She daintily lifts her finger and points to the people standing next to the glass bowl filled with punch...
A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this :
Last weekend at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Toni.
What I came across was a 100,000-volt pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were
supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on an assailant. The idea
is to allow my wife -- who would! never consider a gun --adequate time to
retreat to safety. WAY TOO COOL!!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded in
two triple-a batteries and pushed the button. Nothing! I was
disappointed. But then I read (yes, 'read') that if I pushed the button
AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the
blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs and
I'd know it was working.
Awesome!!! (Actually, I have yet! to explain to Toni what that burn spot
is on the face of her microwave). Okay, so I was home alone with this
new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only
two triple-a batteries, right?!! There I sat in my recliner, my cat
Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading
the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out
on a flesh and blood moving target.. I must admit I thought about zapping
Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is
such a sweet cat. But,! if I was going to give this thing to my wife to
protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it
would work as advertised. Am I wrong?
So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glas
ses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand,
and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would
shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to
cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second
burst would purportedly make your as sailant flop on the ground like a
fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
So, I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to
one side as to say, "don't do it," reasoning that a one-second burst
from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided
to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched
the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and WEAPONS OF MASS
DESTRUCTION @!@$$!%!@*!!!
I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me
up in the recliner, and body slammed us both on the carpet, over and
over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal
position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire,
testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tuck ed under my body in
the oddest position, and tingling in my legs.
You should know, if you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a
taser, that there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap
yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from
your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.
SON-OF-A-... that hurt like hell!!! A minute or so later (I can't be
sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected what
little wits I had left, sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent
reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get
there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching.
My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.
I'm still looking for my testicles!! ! I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return.
Still in shock,
Earl
Last weekend at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Toni.
What I came across was a 100,000-volt pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were
supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on an assailant. The idea
is to allow my wife -- who would! never consider a gun --adequate time to
retreat to safety. WAY TOO COOL!!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded in
two triple-a batteries and pushed the button. Nothing! I was
disappointed. But then I read (yes, 'read') that if I pushed the button
AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the
blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs and
I'd know it was working.
Awesome!!! (Actually, I have yet! to explain to Toni what that burn spot
is on the face of her microwave). Okay, so I was home alone with this
new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only
two triple-a batteries, right?!! There I sat in my recliner, my cat
Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading
the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out
on a flesh and blood moving target.. I must admit I thought about zapping
Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is
such a sweet cat. But,! if I was going to give this thing to my wife to
protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it
would work as advertised. Am I wrong?
So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glas
ses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand,
and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would
shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to
cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second
burst would purportedly make your as sailant flop on the ground like a
fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
So, I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to
one side as to say, "don't do it," reasoning that a one-second burst
from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided
to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched
the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and WEAPONS OF MASS
DESTRUCTION @!@$$!%!@*!!!
I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me
up in the recliner, and body slammed us both on the carpet, over and
over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal
position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire,
testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tuck ed under my body in
the oddest position, and tingling in my legs.
You should know, if you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a
taser, that there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap
yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from
your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.
SON-OF-A-... that hurt like hell!!! A minute or so later (I can't be
sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected what
little wits I had left, sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent
reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get
there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching.
My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.
I'm still looking for my testicles!! ! I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return.
Still in shock,
Earl
Farming Issues?
A South Dakota farmer got in his pickup, drove to a neighboring farm,
and knocked at the farmhouse door. A young boy of about 12 opened the
door.
"Is your dad home?" the farmer asked. "No sir, he ain't," the
boy replied. "He went into town."
"Well," said the farmer, "is your mom here?"
"No sir, she ain't here neither. She went into town with Dad."
"How about your brother Howard? Is he here?"
"He went with Mom and Dad. He needed to pick up a new tuba mouthpiece at
the music store"
The farmer stood there for a few minutes, shifting from
one foot to the other, mumbling to himself.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" the boy asked politely. "I know
where all the tools are, if you want to borrow one. Or maybe I could
take a message for Dad."
"Well, said the farmer uncomfortably, "I really wanted to talk to your
dad. It's about your brother Howard getting my daughter Pearly Mae
pregnant."
The boy considered for a moment. "You would have to talk to Pa about
that," he finally conceded. "If it helps you any, I know that Pa charges
$50 for the bull and $25 for the boar, but I really don't know how
much he gets for Howard."
A South Dakota farmer got in his pickup, drove to a neighboring farm,
and knocked at the farmhouse door. A young boy of about 12 opened the
door.
"Is your dad home?" the farmer asked. "No sir, he ain't," the
boy replied. "He went into town."
"Well," said the farmer, "is your mom here?"
"No sir, she ain't here neither. She went into town with Dad."
"How about your brother Howard? Is he here?"
"He went with Mom and Dad. He needed to pick up a new tuba mouthpiece at
the music store"
The farmer stood there for a few minutes, shifting from
one foot to the other, mumbling to himself.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" the boy asked politely. "I know
where all the tools are, if you want to borrow one. Or maybe I could
take a message for Dad."
"Well, said the farmer uncomfortably, "I really wanted to talk to your
dad. It's about your brother Howard getting my daughter Pearly Mae
pregnant."
The boy considered for a moment. "You would have to talk to Pa about
that," he finally conceded. "If it helps you any, I know that Pa charges
$50 for the bull and $25 for the boar, but I really don't know how
much he gets for Howard."
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