Required: Sense of humor

[crazy_wheeler]

Monkey Business

A guy walks into a bar with his pet monkey. He orders a drink and while he's drinking, the monkey jumps all around the place. The monkey grabs some olives off the bar and eats them. Then he grabs some sliced limes and eats them. He then jumps onto the pool table and grabs one of the billiard balls. To everyone's amazement, he sticks it in his mouth, and somehow swallows it whole.
The bartender screams at the guy, "Did you see what your monkey just did?"

"No, what?"

"He just ate the cue ball off my pool table... whole!"

"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me," replied the guy, "he eats everything in
sight. Sorry! I'll pay for the cue ball and stuff."

The guy finishes his drink, pays his bill, pays for the stuff the monkey ate and leaves.

Two weeks later the guy is in the bar again, and has his monkey with him. He orders a drink and the monkey starts running around the bar again. While the man is finishing his drink, the monkey finds a maraschino cherry on the bar. He grabs it, sticks it up his butt, pulls it out, and eats it. Then the monkey finds a peanut, and again sticks it up his butt, pulls it out, and eats it.

The bartender is disgusted. "Did you see what your monkey did now?"

"No, what?" replied the man.

"Well, he stuck a maraschino cherry and a peanut up his butt, pulled them out, and ate them!" said the bartender.

"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me," replied the guy. "He still eats everything in sight, but ever since he had to pass that cue ball, he measures everything first."


I pissed myself reading this joke......lol

 

[4extreme]

Go check this out

YouTube - Silent Library with Ernesto Hoost

 

[CdnWrangler]

I should not laugh.... but that's funny....... in a warped sort of way...

If you would like to tell which one is "mans best friend". Your dog or your wife. Lock them both in the trunk of your car for a hour and see witch one is happy to see you when you open it!

 

[CdnWrangler]

this is so funny............

Go check this out

YouTube - Silent Library with Ernesto Hoost

 

[crazy_wheeler]

A lady goes to her priest one day and tells him,
"Father, I have a problem. I have two female
parrots, but they only know how to say one thing."
"What do they say?", the priest inquired.
"They say, 'Hi, we're hookers! Do you want to
have some fun?'"
"That's obscene!", the priest exclaimed.
Then he thought for a moment. "You
know," he said, "I may have a solution to your
problem:
I have two male talking parrots, which I have
taught to pray and read the Bible.
Bring your two parrots over to my house, and
we'll put them in the cage with Francis and Peter.
My parrots can teach your parrots to pray and
worship!"
"Thank you," the woman responded,
"This may very well be the solution."
The next day, she brought her female parrots
to the priest's house. As he ushered
her in, she saw that his two male parrots were ins ide
their cage, holding rosary beads and praying.
Impressed, she walked over and placed her
parrots in with them.
After a few minutes, the female parrots cried out in
unison,
"Hi, we're hookers! Do you want to have some fun?"
There was stunned silence. Shocked, one male
parrot looked over at the other male parrot
and exclaimed, "Put the beads away, Frank.
Our prayers have been answered.

 

[crazy_wheeler]

Defense Attorney:
Will you please state your age?

Little Old Lady:
I am 86 years old.

Defense Attorney:
Will you tell us, in your own words, what happened the night of April 1st?

Little Old Lady:
There I was, sitting there in my swing on my front porch on a warm spring evening,
When a young man comes creeping up on the porch and sat down beside me.

Defense Attorney:
Did you know him?

Little Old Lady:
No, but he sure was friendly.

Defense Attorney:
What happened after he sat down?

Little Old Lady:
He started to rub my thigh.

Defense Attorney:
Did you stop him?

Little Old Lady:
No, I didn't stop him.

Defense Attorney:
Why not?

Little Old Lady:
It felt good. Nobody had done that since my Albert died some 30 years ago.

Defense Attorney:
What happened next?

Little Old Lady:
He began to rub my breasts.

Defense Attorney:
Did you stop him then?

Little Old Lady:
No, I did not stop him.

Defense Attorney:
Why not?

Little Old Lady:
His rubbing made me feel all alive and excited. I haven't felt that good in years!

Defense Attorney:
What happened next?

Little Old Lady:
Well, by then, I was feeling so 'spicy' that I just laid down and told him 'Take me, young man. Take me now!'

Defense Attorney:
Did he take you?

Little Old Lady:
Hell, no! He just yelled, 'April Fool!'
And that's when I shot him

 

[albertagal500]

Angel's Food vs. Devil's Food...

In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth and populated the Earth with broccoli, cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow and red vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.

Then using God's great gifts, Satan created Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream and Krispy Creme Donuts. And Satan said, "You want chocolate with that?"

And Man said, "Yes!" and Woman said, "and as long as you're at it, add some sprinkles." And they gained 10 pounds. And Satan smiled.

And God created the healthful yogurt that Woman might keep the figure that Man found so fair. And Satan brought forth white flour from the wheat, and sugar from the cane and combined them. And Woman went from size 6 to size 14.

So God said, "Try my fresh green salad." And Satan presented Ranch Dressing, buttery croutons and garlic toast on the side. And Man and Woman unfastened their belts following the repast.

God then said, "I have sent you heart healthy vegetables and olive oil in which to cook them." And Satan brought forth deep fried fish and chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter. And Man gained more weight and his cholesterol went through the roof.

God then created a light, fluffy white cake, named it "Angel Food Cake," and said, "It is good." Satan then created chocolate cake and named it "Devil's Food."

God then brought forth running shoes so that His children might lose those extra pounds. And Satan gave cable TV with a remote control so Man would not have to toil changing the channels. And Man and Woman laughed and cried before the flickering blue light and gained pounds.

Then God brought forth the potato, naturally low in fat and brimming with nutrition. And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fried them. And Man gained pounds.

God then gave lean beef so that Man might consume fewer calories and still satisfy his appetite. And Satan created McDonald's and its 99-cent double cheeseburger. Then said, "You want fries with that?" And Man replied, "Yes! And super size them!" And Satan said, "It is good." And Man went into cardiac arrest.

God sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery.

Then Satan created HMOs.

 

[albertagal500]

A car gets a flat on the interstate one day. The blonde
driver eases it over onto the shoulder of the road,
carefully steps out of the car and opens the trunk.

She takes out two cardboard men, unfolds them
and stands them at the rear of the vehicle facing
oncoming traffic. The lifelike cardboard men are
in trench coats exposing their nude bodies and
private parts to approaching drivers.

Not surprisingly, the traffic becomes snarled and
backed up.

It isn't very long before a police car arrives.

The officer, clearly enraged, approaches the
blonde of the disabled vehicle yelling,
'What's going on here?'

'My car broke down, officer' says the woman
calmly.

'Well, what the hell are these obscene cardboard
pictures doing here by the road?' he asks.

'Helllooooooo!!!!' says the blonde. Duhhhhhh!!!

'These are my emergency flashers!'

 

[SLEDBUNNYRACING]

I'm not much for posting jokes, but this was sent to me and I nearly crapped reading in...

Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this:

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. 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 your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....??

WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. AWESOME!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie 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 & 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 glasses 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 assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries. All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, 'no possible way!'

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best...? I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it dipshit,' 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 heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . . . HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE HELL!!!

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then 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 tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs?

The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a taser, one note of caution: 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. A three second burst would be considered conservative?
SON-OF-A-BITCH, 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 my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was 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 had no control over the drooling. Apparrently I ch!t myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for my nuts and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return!!


P. S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!

'If you think Education is difficult, try being stupid.'

 

[CdnWrangler]

This got me laughing so hard... my ribs were hurting.... You could see the end coming but are compelled to read on..... :rolling

Thanks ............

I'm not much for posting jokes, but this was sent to me and I nearly crapped reading in...

Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this:

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. 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 your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....??

WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. AWESOME!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie 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 & 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 glasses 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 assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries. All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, 'no possible way!'

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best...? I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it dipshit,' 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 heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . . . HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE HELL!!!

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then 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 tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs?

The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a taser, one note of caution: 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. A three second burst would be considered conservative?
SON-OF-A-BITCH, 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 my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was 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 had no control over the drooling. Apparrently I ch!t myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for my nuts and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return!!


P. S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!

'If you think Education is difficult, try being stupid.'

 

[crazy_wheeler]

SBR I think I pissed myself while laughing so hard that tears where coming from my eyes..............lmao

 

[SLEDBUNNYRACING]

That seems to be a common response to that...everyone knows someone that they could see doing that...priceless.

SBR I think I pissed myself while laughing so hard that tears where coming from my eyes..............lmao

 

[crazy_wheeler]

A guy calls his buddy, the horse rancher, and says he's sending a
Friend over to look at a horse.

His buddy asks, 'How will I recognize him?'

'That's easy; he's a midget with a speech impediment.'

So, the midget shows up, and the guy asks him if he's looking
for a male or female horse.

'A female horth.'

So he shows him a prized filly.

'Nith lookin horth. Can I thee her eyeth'?

So the guy picks up the midget and he gives the horse's eyes
the once over.

'Nith eyeth, can I thee her earzth'?

So he picks the little fella up again, and shows him the
horse's ears.

'Nith earzth, can I see her mouf'?
The rancher is getting pretty ticked off by this point, but he
picks him up again and shows him the horse's mouth.

'Nice mouf, can I see her twat'?

Totally mad as fire at this point, the rancher grabs him under
his arms
and rams the midget's head as far as he can up the
horse's fanny, pulls him out and slams him on the ground.

The midget gets up, sputtering and coughing.

'Perhapth I should re-frase that.

Can I thee her wun awound a widdlebit'?

 

[Gunny]

When told the reason for daylight saving time the old Indian said...


"Only a white man would believe that you could cut a foot off the top of a blanket and sew it to the bottom of a blanket and have a longer blanket!!"

 

[Gunny]

The buzzword of this election is "CHANGE."
Candidates toss it around without saying what they want to change to.
Just that we need CHANGE!

This brings to mind the following illustration.

Years ago, there was an old tale in the Marine Corps about a lieutenant who inspected his Marines and told the "Gunny" that they smelled bad.
The lieutenant suggested that they change their underwear.

The "Gunny" responded, "Aye, aye, sir. I'll see to it immediately. "

He went into the tent and said, "The lieutenant thinks you guys smell bad, and he wants you to change your underwear."

"Smith, you change with Jones, McCarthy, You change with Witkowskie, Brown, you change with Schultz ... Change, now get on with it"

And the moral is:

A candidate may promise change in Washington ... But the stink remains!

SEMPER FI !

 

[crazy_wheeler]

What's the difference between a bra and the Calgary Flames???








A bra has two cups.....

 

[Mike270412]

this is the best.

player

That's hilarious I don't care who ya are

 

[Mike270412]

Women's Love Poem

Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man, who's not a creep,
One who's handsome, smart and strong
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he's gainfully employed,
When I spend his cash, won't be annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens my door,
Massages my back and begs to do m ore.
Oh! Send me a man who'll make love to my mind,
Knows what to answer to 'how big is my behind?'
I pray that this man will love me to no end,
And always be my very best friend.

Mens Love Poem

I pray for a deaf-mute nymphomaniac with
huge tits who owns a bar on a golf course,
and loves to send me fishing and hunting. This
doesn't rhyme and I don't give a chit.

 

[Qub3d]

The guy's will appreciate this one...

I borrowed my wife's Geo Metro last night. One liter of raw power, 3 cylinders of asphalt-tearing terror on thirteen-inch rims. It's stock, alright, nothing done to it, but it pushes the barely 2000 pounds of Metro around with AUTHORITY. I'm always catching mopeds and 18-wheelers by surprise...I was headed back from Baskin Robbins with my manly triple-latte cappuccino blast ("No Cinnamon, ma'am, I take it BLACK"), when I stopped at a streetlight. As the Metro throbbed its throaty idle around me, I sipped my bold beverage and wiped the white froth my stiff upper lip. I was minding my own business, but then I heard a rev from the next lane. I turned, made eye contact, then let my eyes trace over the competition.

Ford Festiva -- a late model, could be trouble. Low profile tires, curb feelers, and schoolbus-yellow paint. Yep, a hot rod, for sure. The howl of his motor snapped my reverie, and I looked back into the driver's eyes, nodded, then blipped my own throttle. As I tugged on my driving gloves and slipped on my sunglasses (gotta look cool to be fast, and I am *damn* cool), the night was split with the sound of seven screaming cylinders...Then the light turned... I almost had him out of the hole, my three pounding cylinders thrusting me at least a millimeter back into my seat, as smoke pouring from my front right tire... my unlimited slip differential was letting me down! I saw in the corner of my eyes, a yellow snout gaining, and I heard the roar of his four cylinders. He slung by me, right front wheel juddering against the pavement, and he flashed me a smile as his .7 extra liters of motor stretched its legs. I kept my foot gamely in it, though, waiting for the CHECK ENGINE light to blink on in the one-gauge (no tachometer here!) instrument panel. I saw a glimpse of chrome under his bumper, and knew the ugly truth...He was running a custom exhaust --probably a 2-into-1 dual exhaust... maybe even cutouts! Damn his hot-rod soul! The old lady passing us on the crosswalk cast a dirty look in our boy-racer direction...Yet still I persisted, with my three pumping pistons singing a heady high-pitched song, wound fully out. Though only a few handfuls of seconds had passed, we were nearing the crosswalk at the other side of the intersection, and I heard the note of his engine change as he made his shift to second, and I saw his grin in his rearview mirror fade as he missed the shift! I rocketed by, shifting, and nursed the clutch gently in to keep from bogging, keeping my motor spinning hot and pulling me ahead, now trailing a cloud of stinking clutch smoke. Not ready to give up so easily, he left his foot in it, revving, and I heard one wheel *almost* chirp as he finally found second and dropped the clutch. We careened over the crosswalk, now going at least 15 miles per hour. A bicyclist passed us, but intent on the race as we were, neither of us batted an eye. He pulled slowly abreast of me, and neck and neck, we made the shift to third, the scream of motors deafening all pedestrians within a five foot circle. He nosed ahead as we passed 30 miles an hour, then eased in front of me, taunting, as we shifted into fourth. I was staring up the dual 6" chrome tips of his exhaust, snarling, my cappuccino forgotten, as he lifted a little to take the next corner. I saw my opportunity, and counting on the innate agility of my trusty steed, I pulled wide into the number two lane and kept my foot buried in carpet. Slowly, I inched around him, feeling my Metro roll slowly to the left as I came abreast in the midst of this gradual sweeping turn. I felt the Geo ease onto its suspension stops, and felt the right rear wheel slowly leave the ground - no matter, though, because my drive wheels, up front, were pulling me through the corner, and around the Festiva ...The Ford driver beat his wheel in rage as my wife's car eased past him on the outside, my P165/54R13's screaming in protest, as we raced to the next light. We coasted down, neck-and neck, to the red light. I tightened my driving gloves, ready for another round, when this WIMP in the next car meekly flipped his turn signal and made a right. Chevy superiority reigns!!!I drove off sipping my masculine drink, awash in my sheer virility, looking for other unwitting targets.... Perhaps a Yugo, or maybe even a Volkswagon Van!

 

[Mike270412]

Grandma's boyfriend

A 5-year-old boy went to visit his grandmother one day. Playing with his toys in her bedroom while grandma was dusting, he looked up and said, 'Grandma, how come you don't have a boyfriend now that Grandpa went to heaven?'

Grandma replied, 'Honey, my TV is my boyfriend. I can sit in my bedroom and watch it all day long. The religious programs make me feel good and the comedies make me laugh. I'm happy with my TV as my boyfriend.'

Grandma turned on the TV, and the reception was terrible. She started adjusting the knobs, trying to get the picture in focus. Frustrated, she started hitting the backside of the TV hoping to fix the problem.

The little boy heard the doorbell ring, so he hurried to open the door and there stood Grandma's minister. The minister said, 'Hello son, is your Grandma home?'

The little boy replied, 'Yeah, she's in the bedroom bangin' her boyfriend.'

The minister fainted.

Now, that's funny... I don't care WHO you are.