Some jokes
 

Barry returned from a doctor's visit one day and told his wife Doreen that the doctor said he only had 24 hours to live. Wiping away her tears, he asked her to make love with him. Of course she agreed and they made passionate love.
6 hours later, Barry went to her again, and said, 'Honey, now I only have 18

hours left to live. Maybe we could make love again?'
Doreen agreed and again they made love.
Later, Barry was getting into bed when he realized he now had only 8 hours of life left. He touched Doreen's shoulder and said, 'Honey? Please, Just one more time before I die.'
She agreed, then afterward she rolled over and fell asleep.
Barry, however, heard the clock ticking in his head, and he tossed and turned until he was down to only 4 more hours. He tapped his wife on the shoulder to wake her up. 'Honey, I only have 4 hours left! Could we...?'
His wife sat up abruptly, turned to him and said, 'Listen Barry, I have to get up in the morning! You don't.'!

A man riding his Harley was cruising along a California beach when suddenly the sky clouded above his head and, in a booming voice, the Lord said, "Because you have tried to be faithful to me in all ways, I will grant you one wish."

The biker pulled over and said, "Build a bridge to Hawaii so I can ride over anytime I want."

The Lord said, "Your request is materialistic. Think of the enormous challenges for that kind of undertaking - the supports required to reach the bottom of the Pacific and the concrete and steel it would take! It will nearly exhaust several natural resources. I can do it, but it is hard for me to justify your desire for worldly things. Take a little more time and think of something that could possibly help mankind."

The biker thought about it for a long time. "Lord, I wish that I and all men could understand our wives. I want to know how she feels inside, what she's thinking when she gives me the silent treatment, why she cries, what she means when she says 'nothing's wrong', and how I can make a woman truly happy."

The Lord answered, "Would you like two lanes or four?"

Hillbilly Mirror

>

>After living in the remote wilderness of Kentucky all his life, an old

>hillbilly decided it was time to visit the big city.

>

>In one of the stores he picks up a mirror and looks in it. Not ever

>having seen one before, he remarked at the image staring back At him, "How

>about that! Here's a picture of my daddy."

>

>He bought the 'picture', but on the way home he remembered his wife,

>didn't like his father. So he hung it in the barn, and every morning

>before leaving for the fields, he would go there and look at it.

>

>His wife began to get suspicious of these many trips to the barn. One day

>after her husband left, she searched the barn and found the mirror.

>

>As she looked into the glass, she fumed, "So that's the ugly bitch he's

>runnin' around with."

The Pasta Diet and Your Health

>

>

>

> ITALIAN PASTA DIET -- IT REALLY WORKS !!

>

>

> 1.. You walka pasta da bakery.

>

>

> 2.. You walka pasta da candy store.

>

>

> 3.. You walka pasta da Ice Cream shop.

>

>

> 4... You walka pasta da table and fridge.

>

>

> You will lose weight!

>

>

> And...

>

>

> For those of you who watch what you eat,

>

> here's the final word on nutrition and health.

>

> It's a relief to know the truth

>

> after all those conflicting

>

> nutritional studies.

>

>

> 1. The Japanese eat very little fat

>

> and suffer fewer heart attacks than

>

> Americans.

>

>

> 2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat

>

> and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

>

>

> 3. The Chinese drink very little red wine

>

> and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

>

>

> 4. The Italians drink a lot of red wine

>

> and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

>

>

> 5. The Germans drink a lot of beers and eat lots of sausages and

>fats

>

> and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

>

>

> CONCLUSION

>

>

> Eat and drink what you like.

>

> Speaking English is apparently what kills you.

Two women friends had gone for a girl's night out. Both were very faithful and loving wives, however, they had gotten over-enthusiastic on the Bacardi Breezers. Incredibly drunk and walking home they needed to pee, so they stopped in the cemetery.

Neither one of them had anything to wipe with so she thought she would take off her panties and use them. Her friend however was wearing a rather expensive pair of panties and did not want to ruin them. She was lucky enough to squat down next to a grave that had a wreath with a ribbon on it, so she proceeded to wipe with that.

After the girls did their business they proceeded to go home.

The next day one of the women's husbands was concerned that his normally sweet and innocent wife was still in bed hung over, so he phoned the other husband and said, "These girl nights have got to stop! I'm starting to suspect the worst.. my wife came home with no panties!!"

"That's nothing" said the other husband, "Mine came back with a card stuck to her donkey that said.....*'From all of us at the Fire Station. We'll never forget you.*'"

Thought it was funny.
Andy

Blonde joke.
Dear Diary,
Last year I replaced all the windows in my house with those expensive double pane energy-efficient kind. Then, this week I got a call from the contractor who installed them. He was complaining that the work had been completed a whole year ago and I still hadn't paid for them.

Now just because I'm blonde doesn't mean that I am automatically stupid. So, I told him just what his fast talking sales guy had told me last year....namely, that in ONE YEAR these windows would pay for themselves!

Helllooooo? It's been a year!

There was only silence at the other end of the line, so I finally just hung up.

He didn't call back. Bet he felt dumb!

The founder of the Harley Davidson Motorcycle
Corporation, Arthur Davidson, died and went to heaven.

At the gates, St. Peter told Arthur, "You've been a good man and your motorcycles have changed the world.
Your reward is, you can hang out with anyone you want in Heaven."

Arthur thought about it for a minute and then said,
"I want to hang out with God."

St. Peter took Arthur to the Throne Room, and introduced him to God.

God recognized Arthur and commented, "So you were the one who invented the Harley Davidson motorcycles, eh?"

Arthur said, "Yeah, that's me..."

God commented, "Well, what's the big deal about inventing something that's pretty unstable, makes noise and pollution, and can't run without a road?"

Arthur was embarrassed, but finally spoke, "Excuse me, but aren't you the inventor of woman?"

God said, "Ah, yes."

"Well," said Arthur, "Professional to professional, you have some major design flaws in your invention:
There's too much inconsistency in the front-end protrusion.
It chatters constantly at high speeds. Most of therear ends are too soft and wobble too much.
The intake is placed way too close to the exhaust.
And the maintenance costs are outrageous!"

"Hmmmm, you may have some good points there," replied God, "hold on."

God went to his Celestial super-computer, typed ina few words and waited for the results.
The computer printed out a slip of paper and God read it.
"Well, it may be true that my invention is flawed,"
God said to Arthur, "but according to these numbers, more men are
riding my invention than yours."

Hello?"
> "Hi honey.
> This is Daddy. Is Mommy near the phone?"
> "No Daddy. She's upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul."
> After a brief pause,
> Daddy says, "But honey,you haven't got an Uncle Paul."
> "Oh yes I do, and he's upstairs in the room with Mommy, right now."
> Brief Pause.
> "Uh, okay then,this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down on the table, run upstairs and knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy that Daddy's car just pulled into the driveway."
> "Okay Daddy,just a minute."
> A few minutes later the little girl comes back to the phone.
> "I did it Daddy."
> And what happened honey?"he asked
> "Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed with no clothes on
> and ran around screaming.
> Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser
> and now she isn't moving at all!"
> "Oh my God!!!
> What about your Uncle Paul?"
> "He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too.
> He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window and into the swimming pool.
> But I guess he didn't know that you took out the water last week to clean it.
> He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he's dead."
>
> ***Long Pause***
>
> ***Longer Pause***
>
> ***Even Longer Pause***
> Then Daddy says, "Swimming pool? Is this 486-5731?"

The Sheriff in a small town walks out in the street and sees a blonde cowboy coming down the walk with nothing on but his cowboy hat, gun, and his boots, so he arrests him for indecent exposure.

As he is locking him up, he asks "Why in the world are you dressed like this?"
The Cowboy says, "Well it's like this Sheriff ... I was in the bar down the road and this pretty little red head asks me to go out to her motor home with her. So I did.
We go inside and she pulls off her top and asks me to pull off my shirt ...so I did. Then she pulls off her skirt and asks me to pull off my pants ...so I did. Then she pulls off her panties and asks me to pull off my shorts ... so I did.
Then she gets on the bed and looks at me kind of sexy and says, "Now go to town, cowboy..."
And here I am."

Son of a Gun, Blonde men do exist.

HAHA those are good Dazed. :lol: :lol: :lol:

Yeah I got them off of another site I'm a member of. I love jokes like that.

Andy

A couple of buddies Emailed me those. Nice to have a place to share them ain't it? :c: :c:

Yeap it shure is!:c:

a teacher asks her tudents for a something that ends in "tor" and eats things,little peggy raises her hand and says"alligator", teacher says "very good peggy,, anyone else?
". little ricky says"predator", teacher says"very good, thats a big word,anyone else?" little johnny says"vibrator", after the teacher picks herself up off the floor, she asks johnny where he came up with vibrator.johnny says"my sister has one and she says it eats batteries like crazy"

> > I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle
> > through a residential neighborhood could be so
> > incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect ... I was
> > on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with
> > perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an
> > oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from
> > under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of
> > me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to
> > run across the road when it encountered the car. I
> > really was not going very fast, but there was no time
> > to brake or avoid it - it was that close. I hate to
> > run over animals, and I really hate it on a
> > motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to
> > me. I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal
> > lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take
> > care of themselves!
> >
> >
> >
> > Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his
> > feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my
> > oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little
> > beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible
> > second, he screamed and leapt!
> >
> > I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for,
> > "Bonzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen
> > scum!" The leap was nothing short of spectacular ...
> > as he shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and
> > impacted me squarely in the chest.
> >
> >
> >
> > Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I
> > would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies
> > along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing
> > at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was
> > dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves,
> > and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This
> > furry little tornado was doing some damage! Picture a
> > large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed
> > in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at
> > maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in
> > the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing...
> >
> >
> >
> > I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few
> > misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all
> > my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left
> > of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I
> > recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The
> > matter should have ended right there. It really should
> > have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the
> > pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business,
> > and I could have headed home. No one would have been
> > the wiser.
> >
> >
> >
> > But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even
> > an ordinary pissed-off squirrel. This was an EVIL
> > MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH ! Somehow he caught my
> > gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with
> > the force of the throw, swung around and with a
> > resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed
> > squarely on my back and resumed his rather anti-social
> > and extremely distracting activities.
> >
> >
> >
> > He also managed to take my left glove with him! The
> > situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His
> > attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach
> > him.
> >
> >
> >
> > I was startled to say the least. The combination of
> > the force of the throw, only having one hand (the
> > throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back
> > unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right
> > hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the
> > throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result.
> > Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she
> > is very, very good at it. The engine roared and the
> > front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed
> > in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed
> > in ... well ... I just plain screamed.
> >
> >
> >
> > Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome
> > cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly
> > squirrel-torn-t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove,
> > and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating
> > down a quiet residential street on one wheel and with
> > a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the
> > squirrel are both screaming bloody murder. With the
> > sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand
> > back on the handlebars and try to get control of the
> > bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own
> > devices, but I really did not want to crash into
> > somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not
> > yet figured out how to release the throttle .... my
> > brain was just simply overloaded.
> >
> >
> >
> > I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little
> > effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
> > About this time the squirrel decided that I was not
> > paying sufficient attention to this very serious
> > battle (maybe he is an evil mutant NAZI attack
> > squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got
> > INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate
> > closed partway, he began hissing in my face. I am
> > quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had
> > little effect on the squirrel, however.
> >
> >
> >
> > The RPMs on The Dragon maxed out (since I was not
> > bothering with shifting at the moment) so her front
> > end started to drop. Now picture a large man on a huge
> > black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very
> > raggedly-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove,
> > roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a
> > large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly
> > closed full-face helmet.
> >
> >
> >
> > By now the screams are probably getting a little
> > hoarse. Finally I got the upper hand ... I managed to
> > grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and
> > slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it
> > worked ... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of ... so to
> > speak. Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and
> > your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential
> > street and parked with your windows down to do some
> > paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and
> > chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt
> > flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather
> > glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and
> > screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his
> > strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into
> > your police car.
> >
> >
> >
> > I heard screams. They weren't mine... I managed to get
> > the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front
> > wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and
> > skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop
> > sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to
> > fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would
> > have. Really. Except for two things. First, the cops
> > did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned
> > about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors
> > on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open.
> > The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing
> > a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving
> > away from the car. The cop who had been in the
> > driver's seat was standing in the street and was
> > aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car.
> >
> >
> >
> > So the cops were not interested in me. They often
> > insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway.
> > That was one thing. The other? Well, I could clearly
> > see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery
> > from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the
> > squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist
> > at me, shooting me the finger ... That is one
> > dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A
> > somewhat shredded patrol car ... but it was all his.
> >
> >
> >
> > I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a
> > gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately
> > left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just
> > buy myself a new pair of gloves. And some Band-Aids.

so this guy calls into work on a Thursday and tells his boss he's not gonna make it intoday on account of being sick......
boss says to him what do you mean you are sick? I worked with you all day yesterday and you were fine, how sick could you possibly be?????

guy's reply was well, if ya really need to know I'm home shaggin my sister is that sick enough for ya ?





for some strange reason this one gets fewer laughs south of the mason-dixon line ?

.