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Originally posted by DrGrafenberg Two cannibals are eating a clown. One turns to the other and asks "Does this taste funny to you?"
LOL..
“Why do people say "grow some balls"? Balls are weak and sensitive. If you wanna be tough, grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding” ― Betty White
Stevie Wonder has just finished a sell-out concert in Japan and after the applause has died down he asks the crowd if there's anything they'd like him to play.
This little Japanese man at the front is jumping up and down, shouting
and waving his arms like a madman and Stevie asks him what he'd like him to play.
The little Japanese man shouts "Play a jazz chord, play a jazz chord"
so Stevie belts out a 2 minute solo in F minor on his piano and the crowd are in raptures.
"No, No" he shouts "play a jazz chord, play a jazz chord". A little
bit bemused Stevie does a 3 minute impromptu in A major and gets the crowd rocking.
The little fella shouts "No, No, I want you to play a jazz chord".
Stevie gives in and says "how does that go then?" To which he
replies.....
things you would like to say at work... or other places.
1. I can see your point, but you're still full of crap.
2. I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to pronouce.
3. I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public.
4. I'll try being nicer if you'll try being smarter.
5. Ahh...I see the screw-up fairy has visited us again.
6. I like you. You remind me of when I was young and stupid.
7. I'm already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth.
8. The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an artist.
9. What am I? Flypaper for freaks!?
10. And your cry-baby whiny-assed opinion would be...?
11. This isn't and office. It's Hell with fluorescent lighting.
12. If I throw a stick, will you leave?
13. Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed.
14. Can I trade this job for what's behind door #1?
15. Chaos, panic, & disorder - my work here is done.
It got crowded in heaven, so, for one day it was decided only to accept people who had really had a bad day on the day they died. St. Peter was standing at the pearly gates and said to the first man, "Tell me about the day you died."
The man said, "Oh, it was awful. I was sure my wife was having an affair, so I came home early to catch her with him. I searched all over the apartment but couldn't find him anywhere. So I went out onto the balcony, we live on the 25th floor, and found this man hanging over the edge by his fingertips. I went inside, got a hammer, and started hitting his hands. He fell, but landed in some bushes. So, I got the refrigerator and pushed it over the balcony and it crushed him. The strain of the act gave me a heart attack, and I died."
St. Peter couldn't deny that this was a pretty bad day, and since it was a crime of passion, he let the man in.
He then asked the next man in line about the day he died. "Well, sir, it was awful," said the second man. "I was doing aerobics on the balcony of my 26th floor apartement when I twisted my ankle and slipped over the edge. I managed to grab the balcony of the apartment below, but some maniac came out and started pounding on my fingers with a hammer. Luckily I landed in some bushes. But, then the guy dropped a refrigerator on me!"
St. Peter chuckled, let him into heaven and decided he could really start to enjoy this job.
"Tell me about the day you died?", he said to the third man in line.
"OK, picture this, I'm naked, hiding inside a refrigerator...."
Originally posted by lms2 things you would like to say at work... or other places.
1. I can see your point, but you're still full of crap.
2. I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to pronouce.
3. I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public.
4. I'll try being nicer if you'll try being smarter.
5. Ahh...I see the screw-up fairy has visited us again.
6. I like you. You remind me of when I was young and stupid.
7. I'm already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth.
8. The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an artist.
9. What am I? Flypaper for freaks!?
10. And your cry-baby whiny-assed opinion would be...?
11. This isn't and office. It's Hell with fluorescent lighting.
12. If I throw a stick, will you leave?
13. Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed.
14. Can I trade this job for what's behind door #1?
15. Chaos, panic, & disorder - my work here is done.
awesome, lms, funny shit!
“Why do people say "grow some balls"? Balls are weak and sensitive. If you wanna be tough, grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding” ― Betty White
A man was walking down the street when he was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless man who asked him for a couple of dollars for dinner. The man took out his wallet, extracted ten dollars and asked, "If I give you this money, will you buy some beer with it instead?" "No, I had to stop drinking years ago," the homeless man replied. "Will you use it to gamble instead of buying food?" the man asked. "No, I don't gamble," the homeless man said. "I need everything I can get just to stay alive." "Will you spend the money on greens fees at a golf course instead of food?" the man asked. "Are you NUTS!" replied the homeless man. "I haven't played golf in 20 years!" "Will you spend the money on a woman in the red light district instead of food?" the man asked. "What disease would I get for ten lousy bucks?!!" exclaimed the homeless man. "Well," said the man, "I'm not going to give you the money. Instead, I'm going to take you home for a terrific dinner cooked by my wife." The homeless man was astounded. "Won't your wife be furious with you for doing that?" I know I'm dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting." The man replied, "That's okay. I just want her to see what a man looks like who's given up beer, gambling, golf, and sex."
The Tong-Master Steve was at the barbecue and Joel was at the barbecue and I was at the barbecue; three men standing around a barbecue, sipping beer, staring at sausages, rolling them backwards and forwards, never leaving them alone. We didn't know why we were at the barbecue; we were just drawn there like moths to a flame. The barbecue was a powerful gravitational force, a man-magnet.
Joel said the thin ones could use a turn, I said yeah I reckon the thin ones could use a turn, Steve said yeah they really need a turn it was a unanimous turning decision. Steve was the Tong-Master, a true artist, he gave a couple of practice snaps of his long silver tongs, SNAP SNAP, before moving in, prodding, teasing, and with an elegant flick of his wrist, rolling them onto their little backs. A lesser tong-man would've flicked too hard; the sausages would've gone full circle, back to where they started. Nice, I said. The others went yeah.
Kevin was passing us, he heard the siren-song- sizzle of the snags, the barbecue was calling, beckoning, Kevinnnnn ...come. He stuck his head in and said any room? We said yeah and began the barbecue shuffle; Steve shuffled to the left, Joel shuffled to the left, I shuffled to the left, Kevin slipped in beside me, we sipped our beer. Now there were four of us staring at sausages, and Steve gave me the nod, my cue. I was second-in-command, and I had to take the raw sausages out of the plastic bag and lay them on the barbecue; not too close together, not too far apart, curl them into each other's bodies like lovers -fat ones, thin ones, herbed and continental. The chipolatas were tiny, they could easily slip down between the grill, falling into the molten hot-bead-netherworld below. Carefully I laid them sideways ACROSS the grill, clever thinking. Steve snapped his tongs with approval; there was no greater barbecue honour.
P.J. came along, he said looking good, looking good -the irresistible lure of the barbecue had pulled him in too. We said yeah and did the shuffle, left, left, left, left, he slipped in beside Kevin, we sipped our beer. Five men,lots of sausages.
Joel was the Fork-pronger; he had the fork that pronged the tough hides of the Bavarian bratwursts and he showed a lot of promise. Stabbing away eagerly, leaving perfect little vampire holes up and down the casing. P.J. was shaking his head, he said I reckon they cook better if you don't poke them.
There was a long silence, you could have heard a chipolata drop, and this newcomer was a rabble-rouser, bringing in his crazy ideas from outside. He didn't understand the hierarchy; first the Tong-master, then the Sausage-layer, then the Fork-pronger -and everyone below was just a watcher. Maybe eventually they'll move up the ladder, but for now - don't rock the Weber.
Dianne popped her head in; hmmm, smells good, she said. She was trying to jostle into the circle; we closed ranks, pulling our heads down and our shoulders in, mumbling yeah yeah yeah, but making no room for her. She was keen, going round to the far side of the barbecue, heading for the only available space . . . the gap in the circle where all the smoke and ashes blew. Nobody could survive the gap; Dianne was going to try. She stood there stubbornly, smoke blinding her eyes, ashes filling her nostrils, sausage fat spattering all over her arms and face. Until she couldn't take it anymore, she gave up, backed off. Kevin waited till she was gone and sipped his beer. We sipped our beer, yeah.
Steve handed me his tongs. I looked at him and he nodded. I knew what was happening, I'd waited a long time for this moment - the abdication. The tongs weighed heavy in my hands, firm in my grip. Was I ready for the responsibility?
Yes, I was. I held them up high and they glinted in the sun. Don't forget to turn the thin ones Steve said as he walked away from the barbecue, disappearing toward the house. Yeah I called back, I will, I will. I snapped them twice,
SNAP SNAP, before moving in, prodding, teasing, and with an elegant flick of my wrist, rolling them back onto their little bellies. I was a natural, I was the TONG-MASTER.
A boy
was upstairs playing on his computer when his grandad came in the room and sat down on the bed.
"What are you doing?", Asked the grandad. "You're 18 years old and wasting your life! When I was 18 I went to Paris, I went to the Moulin Rouge, drank all night, had my way with the dancers, pissed on the barman and left without paying! Now that is how to have a good time!"
A week later, the grandfather comes to visit again. He finds the boy still in his room, but with a broken arm in plaster, 2 black eyes and missing all his front teeth.
"What happened?", he asked.
"Oh Grandfather!", replied the boy. "I did what you did! I went to Paris, went to the Moulin Rouge, drank all night, had my way with the dancers, pissed all over the barman, and they beat the crap out of me!"
"Oh dear!", replied the grandad. "Who did you go with?"
This could well be the joke of the year..........
A three year old little boy was examining his testicles while taking a
bath. "Mama," he asked, "Are these my brains?"
Mama answered, "Not yet."
Roth Army MP
Originally posted by Panamark
Is there such a thing as a trailer park virgin?
or is that just a chick that can run faster than her father and brothers ??
Originally posted by BITEYOASS
She looks like someone I wake up to after a night of drinking. Or someone I'd bang so a buddy of mine can get her hotter friend.
Originally posted by JAY HALE
so how's about you stop lying, log off and go practice.
A little boy and girl are standing in the school yard.....
Boy: I've got 5 lollies
Girl: Oh yeah?, I've got 6 lollies
Boy: Well, I've got 25 cents
Girl: So, I've got 50 cents
Boy: (drops pants) Well I've got one of THESE!
Girl: (drops pants) So what, I've got one of THESE, and with one of THESE I can get as many of THOSE as I want!
A gay couple are having problems in their relationship
the one turns to the other and says Tell me Bob what can i do to make things better he ask's. well says bob if you had more hair on your chest that would be a start. so off trots christopher to his friends house and relates the story . in which he says if you take Wesson Oil and rub a little on your chest for three days you will start to grow hair.
excited and eager to please his lover he puts the oil on . upon the third night bob says to Christopher what the hell is up with all this oil .frantic christopher says i was told if i used oil on my chest i would sprout hair within three days. Bob then laughs and says, if that was so you would have a Pony tail growing out your ass by now.
Roth Army MP
Originally posted by Panamark
Is there such a thing as a trailer park virgin?
or is that just a chick that can run faster than her father and brothers ??
Originally posted by BITEYOASS
She looks like someone I wake up to after a night of drinking. Or someone I'd bang so a buddy of mine can get her hotter friend.
Originally posted by JAY HALE
so how's about you stop lying, log off and go practice.
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