Jokes anyone? -

[Ken Mason]

Proof of what can happen if a wife or girlfriend drags her husband or boyfriend along shopping

This letter was recently sent by Tesco's Head Office to a customer in Oxford : (Yeah, yeah. Ed.)

Dear Mrs. Murray,

While we thank you for your valued custom and use of the Tesco Loyalty Card, the Manager of our store in Banbury is considering banning you and your family from shopping with us, unless your husband stops his antics.
Below is a list of offences over the past few months all verified by our surveillance cameras:

1. June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's trolleys when they weren't looking.

2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.

3. July 7: Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to feminine products aisle.

4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official tone, 'Code 3' in housewares..... and watched what happened.

5. August 14: Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.

6. September 15: Set up a tent in the outdoor clothing department and told shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring sausages and a Calor gas stove.

7. September 23: When the Deputy Manager asked if she could help him, he began to cry and asked, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?'

8. October 4: Looked right into the security camera; used it as a mirror, picked his nose, and ate it.

9. November 10: While appearing to be choosing kitchen knives in the Housewares aisle asked an assistant if he knew where the antidepressants were.

10. December 3: Darted around the store suspiciously, loudly humming the Mission Impossible' theme.

11. December 6: In the kitchenware aisle, practised the 'Madonna look' using different size funnels.

12. December 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed, yelled 'PICK ME!' 'PICK ME!'

13. December 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, assumed the foetal position and screamed 'NO! NO! It's those voices again.'

And; last, but not least:

14. December 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited a while; then yelled, very loudly, 'There is no toilet paper in here

 

[Brian Hamilton]

Mowing mishap

The setting.

We have the standard 6ft. wood privacy fence in the backyard. Years ago, I woke up one morning with my neighbor's dog in my yard and our dogs in the neighbor's yard. Seems they both dug under from either side and met in the middle.

To make sure this never happened again, I got an electric fence and ran a single wire along the bottom. Actually, I did it pirate style and overkilled it. I got the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had, made for I think 6 miles of fence. I then used an 8 ft. long ground round, drove 7.5 feet into the ground. The ground rod is the key. The more you have in the ground, the better the fence works.

One day I'm mowing the back yard- cheapo walmart 6hp bigwheel pushmower. The wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I know for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower around the wire and reached down to grab it as to throw it out of the way. It seems as though I didn't unplug it.

Now I'm standing there, Ive got the running lawnmower in my right hand and the 1.7 gigavolt fencewire in the other hand. Keep in mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover. Time stood still. The first thing I notice is my balls trying to climb up the front side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that fawking Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine. It seems as though the fence charger and the POS lawnmower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.

Science says you cannot crap, piss, and nut at the same time. I beg to differ. Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than half of a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement... you know where time is creeping along and you're all leaned back and BAM BAM BAM you just shit your pants 3 times. It seemed like there were minutes in between but in reality it was so close together it was like exhaust pulses from a big block Chevy turning 8 grand.

At this point I'm about 30 minutes (maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto the fencewire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so i cant let go. I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences... but Dad always had those POS chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled. This I could not let go of. The 8 foot long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex river bottom soil. At this point I'm thinking im going to have to just man up and take it until the lawnmower runs out of gas.

'Shit,' I think as I remember I just filled the tank. Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. Covered in shit, piss, jizz and with my balls on my chest I think 'Oh God please die... pleeeeze die'. But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam ilde nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner's right foot.

So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, standing in my own backyard begging God to kill me. No really. I actually asked to God to take me. Yes, I'm agnostic, but as we all know in times like these the agnostic/atheistic crowd will eventually resort to admitting there is a higher power, and then beg said higher power to do their bidding. God did not take me that day... he left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created.

I honestly don't know how I got loose from the wire... I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It was later on in the day and I was sunburned. There were two large dead grass spots where i had been standing, and then another long skinny dead spot were the wire had layed while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire. Upon waking from my electrically enduced sleep I realized a few things.

1- Three of my teeth seem to have melted.

2- I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right ass cheek (not the left, the right).

3- Shit, piss, and semen when all mixed together do not smell as bad as you would think.

4- My left eye will not open.

5- My right eye will not close.

6- The lawnmower runs like a sumnabitch now. Seriously. I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that.

7- My balls are still smaller than average yet they are 2ft. long

8- I can turn on the TV in the gameroom by farting while thinking of the number 4 (still dont understand this)


That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things. I appreciate the little things more, and I now always check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow.

 

[Jay V]

Back in 1990, the U.S. Government seized the Mustang Ranch brothel in Nevada for tax evasion and, as required by law, tried to run it. They failed and it closed. Now we are trusting the economy of our country to a pack of nitwits who couldn't make money running a whore house and selling booze?

 

[Jay V]

Now I understand………

Mortgage Backed Securities are like boxes of chocolates. Criminals on Wall Street stole a few chocolates from the boxes and replaced them with turds. Their criminal buddies at Standard & Poor rated these boxes AAA Investment Grade chocolates. These boxes were then sold all over the world to investors. Eventually somebody bites into a turd and discovers the crime. Suddenly nobody trusts American chocolates anymore worldwide.

Hank Paulson now wants the American taxpayers to buy up and hold all these boxes of turd-infested chocolates for $700 billion dollars until the market for turds returns to normal. Meanwhile, Hank's buddies, the Wall Street criminals who stole all the good chocolates are not being investigated, arrested, or indicted.

Mama always said: 'Sniff the chocolates first Forrest'.​

 

[Nikolai Dimitrov]

Ivan's mom gave him 50 cents for breakfast and he ate them


extract from an indian's diary
day 1 A woman got lost the men from the hole tribe looked for her . We found her by the lake . We all tryed her out
day 2 Another woman got lost the men from the hole tribe looked for her . We found her by the lake . We all tryed her out.
day 3 Verry verry bad day
... got lost!

 

[Jay V]

With all the sadness and trauma going on in the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on the death of a very important person, which almost went unnoticed last week. Larry LaPrise, the man who wrote 'The Hokie Pokey' died peacefully at the age of 93. The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin. They put his left leg in. And then the trouble started. Shut up. You know it's funny.

 

[David Morton]

Nikolai,никакой реальный перевод в Английский, таким образом это не действительно шутка. Dave:huh:

 

[Jay V]

Who is your real friend?
This really works...! If you don't believe it, just try this experiment.
Put your dog and your spouse in the trunk of the car for an hour. When you open the trunk, who is really happy to see you??

 

[Keith]

 

[Duncan Potter]

Excellent!

 

[Keith]

Sorry - it's one of those days.....

DRAMATIC PICTURES FROM THE WORLDS FIRST SUBMARINE RACE!!

PICTURE 1

PICTURE 2

AND THE FINAL VERY DRAMATIC FINISH....

 

[Keith]

Nikolai,никакой реальный перевод в Английский, таким образом это не действительно шутка. Dave:huh:

I reckon it would work (ie be quite funny) if the Indians diary was written by a woman. Quite apart from the sexual connotation that "we tried her out" which by inference would make the diarist a person of lesbian tendencies, then the "very bad 1/3d day" would be that SHE got lost and the whole tribe "tried her out". Hmmm..

As for the first bit- that's funny. A classic Tommy Cooper... :laugh:

 

[Pete McCluskey.]

MAKES ME PROUD TO BE AN AUSSIE:



'Hello, is this the police?'
'Yes it is. How can we help you?'
'I'm calling to report about my neighbour, Wazza. He's hiding pot inside his firewood!'
'Thank you very much for the call.'
The next day, police officers descend on Wazza's house in great numbers.
They search the house and then go out to the shed where the firewood is kept. Using axes, they bust open every piece of firewood but they find no pot.
They swear at Wazza and leave.
The phone rings at Wazza's house. 'Hey, Wazz, Did the cops come?'
'Yeah!'
'Did they chop up your firewood?'
'Yep.'
'Happy Birthday, maaaaaaaaaate

 

[Dimi Terleckyj]

A woman goes out shoe shopping one day.
As the salesman is helping her try on shoes, he notices she is not wearing any panties.
He looks at the woman and says, " Man, I'd love to fill that with ice cream and eat it !".
The woman slaps the salesman and runs home to tell her husband.
The husband is very disinterested and his wife gets very angry and screams, " Aren't you going to do anything ??.
The husband replies,

First of all you already have too many shoes as it is.

Second you should not be out shopping without any panties on.

And last of all I am not going to mess with anyone who can eat that much ice cream.

Dimi

 

[Jay V]

Blonde Milk Bath
A blonde heard that milk baths would make her beautiful. She left a note for her milkman to leave 25 gallons of milk.

When the milkman read the note, he felt there must be a mistake. He thought she probably meant 2.5 gallons. So he knocked on the door to clarify the note.

The blonde came to the door and the milkman said, "I found your note asking me to leave 25 gallons of milk. Did you mean 2.5 gallons?"

The blonde said, "No, I want 25 gallons. I'm going to fill my bathtub up with milk and take a milk bath so I can look young and beautiful again."

The milkman asked, "Do you want it pasteurized?"...............

The blonde said, "No, just up to my tits. I can splash it on my eyes."

​

 

[Pete McCluskey.]

Boom Boom...

 

[David Lowe]

"Lizard Birth"

If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through
the pet syndrome, including toilet flush burials for dead
goldfish, the story below will have you laughing out
LOUD!

Overview: I had to take my son's lizard to the vet.

Here's what happened:

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me
there was "something wrong" with one of the two
lizards he holds prisoner in his room.

"He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm
serious, Dad . Can you help?"

I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and
followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards
was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I
immediately knew what to do.

"Honey," I called, "come look at the lizard!"

"Oh, my gosh!" my wife exclaimed. "She's having
babies."

"What?" my son demanded. "But their names are
Bert and Ernie, Mom!"

I was equally outraged.

"Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't
want them to reproduce," I said accusingly to my wife.

"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their
cage?" she inquired (I think she actually said this
sarcastically!)

"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I
reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet
voice, while gritting my teeth).

"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.

"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you
know," she informed me (Again with the sarcasm!).

By now the rest of the family had gathered to see
what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make
the best of it.

"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,"
I announced. "We're about to witness the miracle
of birth.."

"Oh, gross!" they shrieked

"Well, isn't THAT just great? What are we going to do
with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?" my wife wanted
to know.

We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what
looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing
a scant second later.

"We don't appear to be making much progress," I
noted.

"It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified.

"Do something, Dad !" my son urged.

"Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed
the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug.
It disappeared. I tried several more times with the
same results.

"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know.

"Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You
see a pattern here with the females in my house?)

"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to
the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.

"Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged.

"I don't think lizards do Lamaze," his mother noted to
him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I
mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy
is of her womb, for G~d's sake.).

The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and
peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.

"What do you think, Doc, a C-section?" I suggested
scientifically.

"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs.
Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"

I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.

"Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This lizard is not
in labor.. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen. . .
Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And
occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most
male species, they um . . um . . . masturbate. Just
the way he did, lying on his back." He blushed,
glancing at my wife.

We were silent, absorbing this.

"So, Ernie's just . just . . . excited," my wife offered.

"Exactly," the vet replied , relieved that we understood.

More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to
giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.

"What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not
believing that the woman I married would commitÂ
the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.

Tears were now running down her face. "It's just .that . .
I'm picturing you pulling on its . . . its. . . teeny little . . "
She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once
more.

"That's enough," I warned. We thanked the vet and
hurriedly bundled the lizard and our son back into
the car.. He was glad everything was going to be okay.

"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you did, Dad ,"
he told me.

"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing
with laughter.

Two lizards: $140.

One cage: $50.

Trip to the vet: $30.

Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie:

Priceless!

Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class.

Lizards lay eggs!

 

[Simon]

Blonde Milk Bath
A blonde heard that milk baths would make her beautiful. She left a note for her milkman to leave 25 gallons of milk.

When the milkman read the note, he felt there must be a mistake. He thought she probably meant 2.5 gallons. So he knocked on the door to clarify the note.

The blonde came to the door and the milkman said, "I found your note asking me to leave 25 gallons of milk. Did you mean 2.5 gallons?"

The blonde said, "No, I want 25 gallons. I'm going to fill my bathtub up with milk and take a milk bath so I can look young and beautiful again."

The milkman asked, "Do you want it pasteurized?"...............

The blonde said, "No, just up to my tits. I can splash it on my eyes."

​

Ernie rides again!

 

[Jay V]

Old Fart Football

An old married couple no sooner hit the pillows
When the old man passes gas and says, 'Seven Points.'

His wife rolls over and says, 'What in the world was that?'
The old man replied, 'It's fart football..'

A few minutes later his wife lets one go and says 'Touchdown, tie score.'

After about five minutes the old man lets another one go and says, 'Aha. I'm ahead 14 to 7.'

Not to be outdone the wife rips out another one and says,
'Touchdown, tie score.'

Five seconds go by and she lets out a little squeaker and says, 'Field goal, I lead 17 to 14.' Now the pressure is on the old man.

He refuses to get beaten by a woman, so he strains real hard.
Since defeat is totally unacceptable, he gives it everything he's got,

And accidentally shits in the bed.

The wife says, 'What the hell was that?'

The old man says, 'Half time, switch sides.'

 

[Jay V]

How real men use Post-it notes