Posts Tagged ‘Jokes’

Living in 2003

// December 31st, 2003 // No Comments » // tagged:

You know you’re living in 2003 when …..

1. You accidentally enter your password on the microwave.

2. You haven’t played solitaire with real cards in years.

3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3.

4. You e-mail your friend who works at the desk next to you.

5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends is that they do
not have e-mail addresses.

6. When you go home after a long day at work you still answer the phone
in a business manner.

7. When you make phone calls from home, you accidentall y dial “9″ to
get an outside line.

8. You’ve sat at the same desk for four years and worked for three
different companies.

10. You learn you’ve been laid off on the 11 o’clock news.

11. Your boss doesn’t have the ability to do your job.

12. Contractors outnumber permanent staff and are more likely to get
long-service awards.

13. You read this entire list, and kept nodding and smiling.

14. As you read this list, you think about forwarding it to your
“friends”.

15. You got this e-mail from a friend that never talks to you any more
except to send you jokes from the net.

16. You are too busy to notice there was no No. 9.

17. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn’t a No.9.
(Bet you all did this one!?!?!?)

Bubba’s Logic

// December 30th, 2003 // No Comments » // tagged:

Two rednecks, Bubba and Cooter, decided they weren’t going anywhere in life and thought they should go to college to get ahead. Bubba goes
in and the professor advises him to take math, history, and logic.

“What’s logic?” asked Bubba.

“The professor answered, “Let me give you an example. Do you own a weed-eater?”

“I sure do,” answered the redneck.

“Then I can assume, using logic, that you have a yard,” replied the professor.

“That’s real good.” The redneck responded in awe.

The professor continued: “Logic will also tell me that since you have a yard, you also have a house.”

Impressed, the redneck shouted, “GAWL-LEEE!”

“And since you own a house and a house is tough to take care of by yourself, logic dictates that you have a wife.”

“Sally Mae!! This is incredible!” Bubba exclaimed.

Finally, since you have a wife, logically I can assume that you are heterosexual rather than homosexual,” said the professor.

“You’re absolutely right! Why that’s the most fascinatin’ thing I ever heard of. I caint wait to take this here logic class.”

Bubba, proud of the new world opening up to him, walked back into the hallway where Cooter is still waiting.

“So what classes are ya takin?” he asks.

“Math, History, and Logic.” replies Bubba.

“What in tarnation is logic?”

“Let me give you an example. Do ya own a weed-eater?”

“No”

“You’re a queer, ain’t ya?”

A Sweet Story

// December 29th, 2003 // No Comments » // tagged:

It was another Payday and I was tired of Mr. Goodbar.

I saw Miss Hershey standing behind the Powerhouse on the corner of Clark and Fifth Avenue when I whipped out my Whopper and whispered, “Hey Sweetheart, how’d you like to Crunch on my big hunk for a Million Dollar Bar?”

Well, she immediately went down on my Tootsie Roll, and it was like pure Almond Joy!

I couldn’t help but grab her delicious Mounds because it was easy to see that this little Twix had the Red Hots.

It was all I could do to hold the Snickers and Crackle as my Butterfinger went up her tight little Kit Kat and she started to scream “Oh Henry, Oh Henry!”

Soon she was fondling my Peter Pan and ZagNut and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I blew my Milk Duds clear to Mars that gave her a taste of the old Milky Way.

She asked me if I was into M&M, but I said, “Hey Chicklet, no kinky stuff.” I said, “Look you little Reese’s Pieces, don’t be a Zero, be a Lifesaver. Why don’t you take my Whatchamacallit and slip it up your Bit ‘O’ Honey?”

(What a piece of Juicy Fruit she was, too!)

She screamed, “Oh Crackerjack, better than the Three Musketeers!” as I rammed my Ding Dong up her Rocky Road and into her Peanut Butter Cup.

Well, I was giving it to her Good ‘N’ Plenty, when all the sudden… my Starburst!

Yeah, as luck would have it, she started to grow Chunky and complained of a Wrigley in her stomach.

Sure enough, nine months later, out popped? Baby Ruth!

Comebacks for Women

// December 28th, 2003 // No Comments » // tagged:

Man: Where have you been all my life?
Woman: Hiding from you.

Man: Haven’t I seen you someplace before?
Woman: Yes, that’s why I don’t go there anymore.

Man: Is this seat empty?
Woman: Yes, and this one will be if you sit down.

Man: So, what do you do for a living?
Woman: I’m a female impersonator.

Man: Hey baby, what’s your sign?
Woman: Do not enter.

Man: How do you like your eggs in the morning?
Woman: Unfertilized.

Man: Your body is like a temple.
Woman: Sorry, there are no services today.

Man: I would go to the end of the world for you.
Woman: But would you stay there?

Man: If I could see you naked, I’d die happy.
Woman: If I saw you naked, I’d probably die laughing.

Man: Where have you been all my life?
Woman: Where I’ll be the rest of your life – in your wildest dreams.

Bra Sizes

// December 27th, 2003 // No Comments » // tagged:

Ever wonder why ABCDEF are used to define bra sizes? Well now you know.

A – Almost Boobs
B – Barely there
C – Can Do
D – Damn good
E – Enormous
F – Fake

Little Old Lady

// December 27th, 2003 // 1 Comment » // tagged:

Never under-estimate the little old Lady

A little old lady went into the Bank of Canada one day carrying a bag of money. She insisted that she must speak with the president of the bank to open a savings account because, “It’s a lot of money!” After much hemming and hawing, the bank staff finally ushered her into the president’s office (the customer is always right!)

The bank president then asked her how much she would like to deposit.
She replied, “$165,000!” and dumped the cash out of her bag onto his desk.

The president was of course curious as to how she came by all this cash, so he asked her, “Ma’am, I’m surprised you’re carrying so much cash around. Where did you get this money?”

The old lady replied, “I make bets.”

The president then asked, “Bets? What kind of bets?”

The old woman said, “Well, for example, I’ll bet you $25,000 that your balls are square.”

“Ha!” laughed the president, “That’s a stupid bet. You can never win that kind of bet!”

The old lady challenged, “So, would you like to take my bet?”

“Sure,”said the president, I’ll bet $25,000 that my balls are not square!”

The little old lady then said, “Okay, but since there is a lot of money involved, may I bring my lawyer with me tomorrow at 10:00 AM as a witness?”

“Sure!” replied the confident president.

That night, the president got very nervous about the bet and spent a long time in front of a mirror checking his balls, turning from side to side, again and again. He thoroughly checked them out until he was sure there was absolutely no way his balls were square and that he would win the bet.

The next morning, at precisely 10:00 am, the little old lady appeared with her lawyer at the president’s office. She introduced the lawyer to the president and repeated the bet: “$25,000 says the president’s balls are square!”

The president agreed with the bet again and the old lady asked him to drop his pants so they could all see. The president did. The little old lady peered closely at his balls and then asked if she could feel them.

“Well, Okay,” said the president, “$25,000 is a lot of money, so I guess you should be absolutely sure.”
Just then, he noticed that the lawyer was quietly banging his head against the wall.

The President asked the old lady, “What the hell’s the matter with your lawyer?”

She replied, “Nothing, except I bet him $100,000 that at 10:00 AM today, I’d have The Bank of Canada’s president’s balls in my hand.”

Airport Security

// December 14th, 2003 // No Comments » // tagged:

Almost 150 years. ago, President Lincoln found it necessary to hire a private investigator – Alan Pinkerton – for protection. That was the beginning of the Secret Service.

Since that time federal police authority has grown to a large number of multi-letter agencies – FBI, CIA, INS, IRS, DEA, BATF, etc. Now comes the “Federal Air Transportation Airport Security Service.” Can’t you see them now, these highly trained men and women in their black outfits with their initials in large white letters across their backs: “FATASS.”

I feel safer already.

Barrel of Bricks

// December 11th, 2003 // No Comments » // tagged:

This man was in an accident (work accident, not car accident), so he filled out an insurance claim. The insurance company contacted him and asked for more information. This was his response:

I am writing in response to your request for additional information for block number 3 of the accident reporting form. I put ‘poor planning’ as the cause of my accident. You said in your letter that I should explain more fully and I trust the following detail will be sufficient. I am an amateur radio operator and on the day of the accident, I was working alone on the top section of my new 80 foot tower. When I had completed my work, I discovered that I had, over the course of several trips up the tower, brought up about 300 pounds of tools and spare hardware. Rather than carry the now un-needed tools and material down by hand, I decided to lower the items down in a small barrel by using a pulley, which was fortunately attached to the gin pole at the top of the tower. Securing the rope at ground level, I went to the top of the tower and loaded the tools and material into the barrel.

Then I went back to the ground and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the 300 pounds of tools. You will note in block number 11 of the accident reporting form that I weigh only 155 pounds. Due to my surprise of being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rather rapid rate of speed up the side of the tower. In the vicinity of the 40 foot level, I met the barrel coming down. This explains my fractured skull and broken collarbone. Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley.

Fortunately, by this time, I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold onto the rope in spite of my pain. At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of tools hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Devoid of the weight of the tools, the barrel now weighed approximately 20 pounds. I refer you again to my weight in block number 11. As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent down the side of the tower. In the vicinity of the 40 foot level, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, and the lacerations of my legs and lower body. The encounter with the barrel slowed me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell onto the pile of tools and, fortunately, only three vertebrae were cracked. I am sorry to report, however, that as I lay there on the tools, in pain, unable to stand and watching the empty barrel 80 feet above me, I again lost my presence of mind. I let go of the rope . . .

The Gloves and the Panties

// December 4th, 2003 // 1 Comment » // tagged:

A young man wished to purchase a gift for his new sweetheart’s birthday, and as they had not been dating very long, after careful consideration he decided a pair of gloves would strike the right note — romantic, but not too personal.
Accompanied by his sweetheart’s younger sister, he bought a pair of white gloves; the younger sister purchased a pair of panties for herself.

During the wrapping, the clerk mixed up the items and the sister got the gloves and the sweetheart got the panties. Without checking the contents first, he sealed his package and mailed it to his sweetheart along with this note:

I chose these because I noticed that you are not in the habit of wearing any when we go out in the evening. If it had not been for your sister, I would have chosen the long ones with the buttons but she wears short ones that are easier to remove.

These are a delicate shade, but the lady I bought them from showed me the pair she had been wearing for the past three weeks and they are hardly soiled. I had her try yours on for me and she looked really smart.

I wish I was there to put them on for you the first time as no doubt other hands will come in contact with thembefore I have a chance to see you again. When you take them off, remember to blow in them before putting them away as they will naturally be a little damp from wearing. Just think how many times I will kiss them during the coming year !

All my love.

P.S. The latest style is to wear them folded down with a little fur showing.

Technical Support

// December 4th, 2003 // No Comments » // tagged:

“Technical support; may I help you?”

“Yes, well, I’m having trouble with my computer.” “What sort of trouble?”

“Well, I was just typing along, and all of a sudden the words went away.”

“Went away?”

“They disappeared.”

“Hmm. So what does your screen look like now?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“It’s blank; it won’t accept anything when I type.”

“Are you still in Word, or did you get out?”

“How do I tell?”

“Can you see the C:\ prompt on the screen?”

“What’s a sea-prompt?”

“Never mind. Can you move the cursor around on the screen?”

“There isn’t any cursor: I told you, it won’t accept anything I type.”

“Does your monitor have a power indicator?”

“What’s a monitor?”

“It’s the thing with the screen on it that looks like a TV. Does it have a little light that tells you when it’s on?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, then look on the back of the monitor and find where the power cord goes into it. Can you see that?”

…..”Yes, I think so.”

“Great! Follow the cord to the plug, and tell me if it’s plugged into the wall.”

…..”Yes, it is.”

“When you were behind the monitor, did you notice that there were two cables plugged into the back of it, not just one?”

“No.”

“Well, there are. I need you to look back there again and find the other cable.”

…..”Okay, here it is.”

“Follow it for me, and tell me if it’s plugged securely into the back of your computer.”

“I can’t reach it.”

“Uh huh. Well, can you see if it is?”

“No.”

“Even if you maybe put your knee on something and lean way over?”

“Oh, it’s not because I don’t have the right angle-it’s because it’s dark.”

“Dark?”

“Yes-the office light is off, and the only light I have is coming in from the window.”

“Well, turn on the office light then.”

“I can’t.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because there’s a power outage.”

“A power… A power outage? Aha! Okay, we’ve got it licked now. Do you still have the boxes and manuals and packing stuff your computer came in?”

“Well, yes. I keep them in the closet.”

“Good! Go get them and unplug your system and pack it up just like it was when you got it. Then take it back to the store you bought it from.”

“Really! Is it that bad?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

“Well, all right then, I suppose. What do I tell them?”

“Tell them you’re too stupid to own a computer.”

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