^ good one
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^ good one
Quote:
Originally Posted by SuperiorDG
rejokeQuote:
Originally Posted by William
but yes, it is a good one.
Jared from subway ended his carreer just like he started it.......trying to get into smaller pants
Tom finally decided to tie the knot with his longtime girlfriend. One morning, after the honeymoon, he was getting his gear ready for another day at the range. His wife was standing there watching him. After a long period of silence, she finally speaks. "Honey, I've been thinking, now that we're married, maybe it's time you quit spending so much time at the range and you should probably consider selling your guns."
Tom gets a horrified look on his face. She says, "Darling, what's wrong?"
"For a minute, you were starting to sound like my ex-wife."
"EX-WIFE!", she screams. "You never told me you were married before!"
Tom's reply, "I wasn't."
[LOL]
One day a hunter took his trusty Winchester to the mountains to hunt for bear. He hid behind a rock that overlooked a beautiful valley and waited.
Soon a bear appeared by the stream which ran through the valley. The hunter aimed and fired. When the smoke cleared he couldn't see the bear.
Then there was a tap, tap, tap on his shoulder.
The man turned around and there was the bear, standing 7 feet high, towering over him. The bear said, "you tried to shoot me didn't you?" To which the Hunter replied, "Yes, I'm afraid I did." "Well," said the Bear, "in that case you will have to provide me with a sexual favor"
Having no choice in the matter, the Hunter did as he was told.
That night the Hunter was really angry and vowed to get revenge. So the next day he went to the same spot, only this time he brought a huge elephant gun. Once again the bear appeared and the hunter fired. After the smoke cleared the hunter couldn't see no carcass.
Tap, tap, tap. "You tried to shoot me didn't you?"
"Why, yes, I'm afraid I did."
"Well take your pants down and bend over. I'm going to have to screw you again" Having no choice the Hunter did what he was told.
That night the Hunter was really, really angry and resolved that he would get the Bear no matter what.
This time he brought an M60. He went to the same spot and waited until the bear appeared by the stream. He fired off fifty rounds. When the smoke cleared, he couldn't see the bear.
Tap, tap, tap. "You tried to shoot me didn't you?"
The Hunter Gulped. "Yes, I'm afraid I did."
The Bear thought for a moment then said, "You don't come here for the hunting, do you?"
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No, you haven't been banned yet... [LOL]Quote:
Originally Posted by waxthis
I'm confused about how a picture of a plate of ethnic food is a joke.
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Not as confused as I.
I came to realize this week that people at work (both men & women) have been looking at my butt a lot lately and apparently they really like it. I hear them talking about it behind my back. In fact, again today, just as I left an office of a couple of folks I gave a requirement to, I heard one of the guys say to the other "What an ass!"
Nurse- Doctor, the Invisible Man is here for his appointment.
Doctor- Tell him I can't see him.
Not really a joke, but hilariously brilliant! I give you, Murray's Law! From http://notalwaysright.com/murrays-law/22083
(I work at a complaints and returns desk. We generally get a few unreasonable and abusive customers each day, so we’ve developed a very effective tactic for dealing with them.)
Me: “Hello, how can I help you today?”
Customer: “You guys are idiots!”
Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. What seems to be the problem?”
Customer: “Look at this receipt! Look at it!”
(He holds up a receipt for a purchase; it looks normal enough.)
Me: “Is there a problem with it?”
Customer: “God, you’re so dumb! Look how faint the ink is! I can barely read it! You want me to go blind?!”
Me: “Ah, well, it looks like the printer’s ink was running a little low, and it can look faded because of that. Would you like me to reprint it so you can read it?”
Customer: “NO! Then you’ll just get away with it! Stupid idiots!”
(The customer starts getting worked up and begins a rant full of swear words and physical threats. I realise what the situation calls for.)
Me: “I am terribly, terribly sorry sir. That looks like Murray did it. What an idiot!”
(This stops the customer’s rant in his tracks and looks at me, breathless.)
Customer: “…Murray?”
Me: “Yes, Murray! He’s always causing problems for customers like you. It’s really unfair. I’ll deal with it right now.” *calling out* “Murray? Come here!”
(As per protocol, the nearest male coworker who isn’t busy comes over to play the role of Murray.)
Male Coworker: “Yes?”
Me: “How dare you upset this customer! You’re fired! Get out!”
Male Coworker: *acts dejected* “I’m so sorry…”
(“Murray” shuffles off looking like he’s about to cry, and once out of sight gets right back to work.)
Me: “There we are, sir. You don’t have to worry about that sort of thing happening ever again. The customer always comes first, and we take complaints very seriously. Have a nice day!”
Customer: “Wow, you guys are really great! Thanks, and good riddance to that idiot Murray!” *leaves*
(This isn’t simply to avoid confrontation; our manager estimates that using the “Murray” tactic to placate customers like this saves us nearly an hour of verbal abuse each day, so we have more time to actually help the customers who need it.)
Car dealerships use this technique.
I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too.Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being "behind the power curve". It is a mark of experience that when this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up.
Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle.at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to keep up with the machine.
I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways. Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a cage that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there!
Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness.all within seconds. I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway. I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that "edge" so frequently required when riding. Little did I suspect.
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 can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the 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, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the 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 twenty 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 maybe 25mph 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 and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off 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 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 square 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 as 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, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph 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 affect 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 a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however. The rpm's on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop. Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out his 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 the 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 one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph 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 directional 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 at a busy cross street.
I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser.
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 swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger. That is one dangerous squirrel.
And now he has a patrol car.
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood. As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I'll take my chances with the freeway. Every time. And I'll buy myself a new pair of gloves.
At breakfast, the husband asked his wife,
“What would you do if I won the lottery?”
She replied, “I’d take half of it and leave you.”!!!
“Great,” he said. “Here’s $6. I won $12 yesterday.
Stay in touch.”
Recently heard this one; it's for all the dudes from the south:
What at do you call relative humidity?
The the sweet on your balls after fucking your cousin.
An elderly lady did her shopping and upon return found four males in her car. She dropped her shopping bags and drew her handgun, proceeding to scream at them that she knows how to use it and that she will if they don't get out of her car. The four men got out and ran like mad, whereupon the lady proceeded to load her shopping bags into the back of the car and get into the driver's seat.
Small problem, her key wouldn't fit the ignition. Her car was identical and parked 4 or 5 spaces farther down. She loaded her bags into her car and drove to the police station. The sergeant to whom she told the story nearly tore himself in two with laughter and pointed to the other end of the counter, where four pale white males were reporting a carjacking by a mad elderly white woman; no charges were filed.
Why did the semen cross the road?
Cause I put on the wrong sock.
A very tired nurse walks into a bank,
Totally exhausted after an 18-hour shift.
Preparing to write a check,
She pulls a rectal thermometer out of her purse
And tries to write with it.
When she realizes her mistake,
She looks at the flabbergasted teller
And without missing a beat, she says:
"Well, that's great.... that's just great....
Some asshole's got my pen!"
haha, that's awesome HB. My nurse wife just got tagged with that on on a FB post.Quote:
Originally Posted by HoneyBadger
Well done, welcome aboard.Quote:
Originally Posted by Calculated
What do a noodle and a woman have in common?
They both wiggle when you eat them.
A cabbie picks up a Nun. She gets into the cab, and notices that the VERY handsome cab driver won't stop staring at her. She asks him why he is staring.
He replies: "I have a question to ask, but I don't want to offend you."
She answers, "My son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."
"Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me."
She responds, "Well, let's see what we can do about that but first, you have to be single and you must also be Catholic."
The cab driver is very excited and says, "Yes, I'm single and Catholic!"
"OK" the nun says. "Pull into the next alley."
The nun fulfills his fantasy with a kiss that would make a hooker blush.
But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying.
"My dear child," said the nun, "why are you crying?"
"Forgive me sister, but I've sinned. I lied and I must confess, I'm married and I'm Jewish."
The nun says, "That's OK. My name is Kevin and I'm going to a Halloween party!"
A Montana cowboy named Bud was overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous pasture in Alberta, when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced toward him out of a cloud of dust.
The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leaned out the window and asked the cowboy, "If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?"
Bud looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure, why not?
The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his location, which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.
The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany.
Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with E-mail on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response.
Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer, turns to the cowboy and says, "You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves."
"That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves," says Bud.
He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on with amusement as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.
Then Bud says to the young man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?"
The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?"
"You’re a Member of Obama's White House Staff," says the cowboy.
"Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?"
"No guessing required," answered the cowboy. "You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You used millions of dollars worth of equipment trying to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don't know a thing about how working people make a living - or about cows, for that matter. This is a herd of sheep.
"Now give me back my dog."
Haha!!!Quote:
Originally Posted by HoneyBadger
A very drunk guy stumbles out of the bar onto the street, just as s nun is passing by. The drunk looks at her funny for a moment, then rushes her and slams her up against the wall. He knees her right in the outside of her thigh, then uppercuts her directly in the gut. She can hardly breathe as she slides down the wall to curl into a ball on the sidewalk.
The drunk guy leans over her and slurs
"I guess you're not so tough after all, are ya, BATMAN?!"
^^^^^^^^ That is HILARIOUS.
A father walks into a restaurant with his young son. He gives the young boy 3 nickels to play with to keep him occupied.
Suddenly, the boy starts choking, going blue in the face. The father realizes the boy has swallowed the nickels and starts slapping him on the back.
The boy coughs up 2 of the nickels, but keeps choking.
Looking at his son, the father is panicking, shouting for help.
A well dressed, attractive, and serious looking woman, in a blue business suit is sitting at the coffee bar reading a newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee. At the sound of the commotion, she looks up, puts her coffee cup down, neatly folds the newspaper and places it on the counter, gets up from her seat and makes her way, unhurried, across the restaurant.
Reaching the boy, the woman carefully drops his pants; takes hold of the boy's testicles and starts to squeeze and twist, gently at first and then ever so firmly. After a few seconds the boy convulses violently and coughs up the last nickel, which the woman deftly catches in her free hand.
Releasing the boy's testicles, the woman hands the nickel to the father and walks back to her seat at the coffee bar without saying a word.
As soon as he is sure that his son has suffered no ill effects, the father rushes over to the woman and starts thanking her saying, "I've never seen anybody do anything like that before, it was fantastic. Are you a doctor? "
"No", the woman replied.
"I'm with the IRS"
Love this one. I knew the other version where the Woman is a divorce attorney....Quote:
Originally Posted by HoneyBadger
You left out the part where she gave the nickel to an illegal alien falsely claiming 9 dependant children.Quote:
Originally Posted by HoneyBadger
According to a news report, a certain private charter school in San Antonio was recently faced with a unique problem. A number of twelve-year-old girls who were beginning to use lipstick would put it on in the bathroom.
That was fine, but after they put on their lipstick, they would press their lips to the mirror, leaving dozens of little lip prints.
Every night the maintenance man, an old retired army master sergeant, would remove them, and the next day the girls would put them back.
Finally the principal, who also was a former army chief warrant officer, decided that something had to be done. He called all the girls to the bathroom and met them there with the maintenance man. He explained that all these lip prints were causing a major problem for the old sergeant who had to clean the mirrors every night. To demonstrate how difficult it had been to clean the mirrors, he asked the maintenance man to show the girls how much effort was required.
He took out a long-handled squeegee, dipped it in the toilet, and cleaned the mirror with it. Since then, there have been no lip prints on the mirror.
There are teachers ...
and then there are educators.
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The IRS decides to audit Grandpa, and summons him to the IRS office.
The IRS auditor was not surprised when Grandpa showed up with his attorney.
The auditor said, 'Well, sir, you have an extravagant lifestyle and no full-time employment, Which you explain by saying that you win money gambling. I'm not sure the IRS finds that believable.'
I'm a great gambler, and I can prove it,' says Grandpa. 'How about a demonstration? '
The auditor thinks for a moment and said, 'Okay. Go ahead.'
Grandpa says, 'I'll bet you a thousand dollars that I can bite my own eye.'
The auditor thinks a moment and says, 'It's a bet.'
Grandpa removes his glass eye and bites it.
The auditor's jaw drops.
Grandpa says, 'Now, I'll bet you two thousand dollars that I can bite my other eye.'
Now the auditor can tell Grandpa isn't blind, so he takes the bet.
Grandpa removes his dentures and bites his good eye.
The stunned auditor now realizes he has wagered and lost three grand, with Grandpa's attorney as a witness. He starts to get nervous.
'Want to go double or nothing?' Grandpa asks 'I'll bet you six thousand dollars that I can stand on one side of your desk, and pee into that wastebasket on the other side, and never get a drop anywhere in between.'
The auditor, twice burned, is cautious now, but he looks carefully and decides there's no way this old guy could possibly manage that stunt, so he agrees again.
Grandpa stands beside the desk and unzips his pants, but although he strains mightily, he can't make the stream reach the wastebasket on the other side, so he pretty much urinates all over the auditor's desk.
The auditor leaps with joy, realizing that he has just turned a major loss into a huge win.
But Grandpa's attorney moans and puts his head in his hands.
'Are you okay?' the auditor asks.
'Not really,' says the attorney. 'This morning, when Grandpa told me he'd been summoned for an audit, he bet me twenty-five thousand dollars that he could come in here and piss all over your desk and that you'd be happy about it.
Jane and Arlene are outside their nursing home, having a drink and a smoke, when it starts to rain. Jane pulls out a condom, cuts off the end, puts it over her cigarette, and continues smoking.
Arlene: What in the hell is that?
Jane: A condom. This way my cigarette doesn't get wet.
Arlene: Where did you get it?
Jane: You can get them at any pharmacy.
The next day, Arlene hobbles herself into the local pharmacy and
announces to the pharmacist that she wants a box of condoms.
The pharmacist, obviously embarrassed, looks at her kind of strangely (she is, after all, over 80 years of age), but very delicately asks what size, texture, brand of condom she prefers.
'Doesn't matter Sonny, as long as it fits on a Camel.'
The pharmacist fainted.
50-Year Old Mystery Solved
Why was Mayberry so peaceful?
Because----no one was married!
Here are the single people of Mayberry: Andy, Aunt Bea, Barney, Floyd (the barber), Howard, Goober, Gomer, Sam, Ernest T. Bass, the Darlin' Family, Helen, Thelma Lou and Clara.....all single!
In fact, the only one who was married was Otis, and he stayed drunk.
....just some food for thought.
Not really a joke, but the guys on the Student of the Gun podcast have Crossbreed Holsters as a sponsor. One holster is called the Supertuck.
The guys call it the "Bruce Jenner Commemorative" Supertuck. [LOL]
Haha. That's funny!
For those who have to deal with idiots who don't believe in retaliation against ISIS:
1. Engage in conversation, and ask if military force is appropriate.
2. When he says "No," ask, "Why not?"
3. Wait until he says something to the effect of "using violence against violence doesn't solve anything."
4. When he's in mid sentence, punch him in the face as hard as you can.
5. When he gets back up to punch you, point out that it would be a mistake and contrary to his values to strike you, because that would be awful and he should not cause more violence.
6. Wait until he agrees, and has pledged not to commit additional violence.
7. Punch him in the face again, harder this time.
8. Repeat steps 5 through 7 until he understands that sometimes it is necessary to punch back."
Checkmate.