Required: Sense of humor

tripster

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Justin Trudeau walks into a bank to cash a cheque. As he approaches the cashier he says, "Good morning, Ma'am, could you please cash this cheque for me?"

Cashier: "It would be my pleasure sir. Could you please show me your ID?"

Trudeau: "Truthfully, I did not bring my ID with me as I didn't think there was any need to. I am Justin Trudeau, the leader of the Liberal Party of Canada!!!!"

Cashier: "Yes sir, I know who you are, but with all the regulations and monitoring of the banks because of impostors and forgers and requirements of the CIDC legislation, etc., I must insist on seeing ID."

Trudeau: "Just ask anyone here at the bank who I am and they will tell you. Everybody knows who I am."

Cashier: "I am sorry, Mr. Trudeau, but these are the bank rules and I must follow them."

Trudeau:" Mon dieu. I am urging you, please, to cash this cheque."

Cashier: "Look Mr. Trudeau , here is an example of what we can do. One day, Tiger Woods came into the bank without ID. To prove he was Tiger Woods he pulled out his putter and made a beautiful shot across the bank into a cup. With that shot we knew him to be Tiger Woods and cashed his cheque.

Another time, Andre Agassi came in without ID. He pulled out his tennis racket and made a fabulous shot whereas the tennis ball landed in my cup. With that shot we cashed his cheque.

So, Mr. Trudeau, what can you do to prove that it is you, and only you?"

Trudeau: Trudeau stands there thinking, and thinking, and finally says, "Honestly, my mind is a total blank, I have absolutely no idea what to do, I don't have a clue."

Cashier: "Will that be large or small bills, Mr. Trudeau?
 

rebel

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    Foster’s Beer Help Line: 
"G'day mate, Foster’s Beer Helpline. What's the problem dude?"
 "I'm in Australia with the girlfriend and she's been stung on her cookie by a hornet, and now her vagina has completely closed up" 
"Bummer, dude" 
"Good advice mate. - Thanks"
 

rebel

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One day, a shy gentleman was preparing to board a plane when he heard that the Pope was on the same flight. "This is exciting," thought the gentleman. "I've always been a big fan of the Pope. Perhaps I'll be able to see him in person." Suddenly, the man realized his seat was right next to the Pope himself. Still, the gentleman was too shy to speak to His Holiness. Shortly after take-off, the Pope took a crossword puzzle out of his carry-on bag and began penciling in the answers. "This is fantastic!" the gentleman mused. "I'm really good at crosswords. It crossed his mind that if the Pope got stuck, He'd ask me for assistance." Almost as if providence struck, the Pope turned to the man and said, "Excuse me, but do you know a four letter word referring to a woman that ends in 'unt'?   The three Cardinals behind, in front of and beside him shrunk down in their seats, as far as possible, all looking for something on the floor. The man was in morbid shock. He couldn't breathe. He went within himself, thought deeper, longer for a plausible answer and after almost a minute, the dark clouds of evil parted in his mind and the sun shone in. Turning to the Pope, the gentleman said, with reverence and politeness, " l believe, Your Holiness that you're looking for the word, ' aunt ' " "Of course!" the Pope declared, ...."Do you have an eraser?"
 

Joholio

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A family is at the dinner table. The son asks the father, “Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there?” The father, surprised, answers, “Well, son, a woman goes through three phases. In her 20s, a woman’s breasts are like melons, round and firm. In her 30s and 40s, they are like pears, still nice, hanging a bit. After 50, they are like onions.” “Onions?” the son asks. “Yes. You see them and they make you cry.” This infuriated his wife and daughter. The daughter asks, “Mom, how many different kinds of willies are there?” The mother smiles and says, “Well, dear, a man goes through three phases also. In his 20s, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his 30s and 40s, it’s like a birch, flexible but reliable. After his 50s, it’s like a Christmas tree.” “A Christmas tree?” the daughter asks. “Yes, dead from the root up and the balls are just for decoration.”
 

rebel

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Now, as if everything else wasn’t bad enough, we find out that beer isn’t good for us.Beer contains female hormones! Yes, that's right, FEMALE hormones!Last month, Montreal University scientists released the results of a recent analysis that revealed the presence of female hormones in beer.The theory is that Beer contains female hormones (hops contain Phytoestrogens) and that by drinking enough beer, men turn into women.To test the theory, 100 men each drank 8 large drafts of beer within a one (1) hour period.It was then observed that 100% of the test subjects, yes, 100% of all these men:    1 )   Argued - over nothing2)   Refused - to apologize when obviously wrong.3)   Gained - weight.4)   Talked - excessively without making sense.5)   Became - overly emotional6)   Couldn't - drive.7)   Failed - to think rationally, and8)   Had - to sit down while urinating. No further testing was considered necessary!!
 

rebel

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 Mother of all Jihadist Jokes...  Two Middle East mothers are sitting in a cafe chatting over a plate of tabouli and a pint of goat's milk. The older of the two pulls a small folder out of her handbag and starts flipping through photos. They start reminiscing. ''This is my oldest son, Mujibar. He would have been 24 years old now.'' ''Yes, I remember him as a baby.'' says the other mother cheerfully. "He's a martyr now though." the mother confides. "Oh, so sad dear...'' says the other. ''And this is my second son, Khalid. He would have been 21.'' ''Oh, I remember him,'' says the other happily, ''he had such curly hair when he was born.'' ''He's a martyr too...'' says the mother quietly. ''Oh, gracious me...'' says the other. ''And this is my third son. My baby. My beautiful Ahmed. He would have been 18'', she whispers. "Yes," says the friend enthusiastically, ''I remember when he first started school...'' ''He's a martyr also,'' says the mother, with tears in her eyes. After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Muslim mother looks wistfully at the photographs and, searching for the right words, says . . ..  "They blow up so fast, don't they?"
 

rebel

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    At dinner, little Johnny was asked to lead the prayer."But I don't know how to pray," he replied.“Just pray for your family, friends and neighbors, the poor, etc.," said his father."Okay”, the boy said,"."Dear Lord,... Thank you for our visitors and their children, who finished all my cookies and ice cream.Bless them so they won't come again.Forgive our neighbour's son, who removed my sister's clothes and wrestled with her on her bed.This coming Christmas, please send clothes to all those poor naked ladies on my Daddy's IPhone.And provide shelter for the homeless man who uses Mom's room when Daddy is at work.  AMEN"Dinner was cancelled.
 

winterax

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Our Dog

In response to the literally hundreds of emails we've received recently regarding our dog:


Please be advised that we are sick and tired of answering questions about him.



Yes, he bit two women wearing burkas, ten people wearing turbans, and twenty people wearing t-shirts supporting one or other of the candidates for the Presidential Election.
Yes, and two car drivers with loud rap music blaring from their vehicles,
Four Jehovah's Witnesses,
Two Mormons,
Nine teenagers with their pants hanging past their ass cracks,
Three Muslims and a Pakistani taxi driver.




FOR THE LAST TIME . . . THE DOG IS NOT FOR SALE.....!
 

green-horn

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Jack goes to his friend Mike and whispers,

"I'm having an affair with the Preacher's wife. Can you hold him in church for an hour after service for me?"

The friend doesn't like it, but being a friend, he agrees.



After the service, he starts talking to the Preacher, asking him all sorts of stupid questions, just to keep him occupied.


Finally the Preacher gets annoyed and asks Mike what he's really up to.
Mike, feeling guilty, finally confesses to the Preacher...
"My friend is having an affair with your wife right now, so he asked me to keep you occupied."



The Preacher smiles, puts a brotherly hand on Mike's shoulder and says,

"You better hurry home. My wife died a year ago"
 
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