The Joke Thread

[Coops]

Thanks Therapy, i think that i need some now. Only so much of that you can take without the appropriate artistic steroids.

Coops.

[Johnathon123]

I can't understand Twitter, but my friends seem to need me to tell them everything.
Now I walk around town with a megaphone telling everybody my movements in great detail.
So far I think I have 3 followers, but 2 are policemen.

[lookoutnw]

Originally Posted by Johnathon123

I can't understand Twitter, but my friends seem to need me to tell them everything.
Now I walk around town with a megaphone telling everybody my movements in great detail.
So far I think I have 3 followers, but 2 are policemen.

YEs, so very much agreed.
Face Book friends are those when you don't even know what they look like...
Some put EVERYTHING in there. Crazy does what crazy does.

[justlearnin]

EIGHT THOUGHTS TO PONDER

Number 8
Life is sexually transmitted.
Number 7
Good health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.
Number 6
Men have two emotions : Hungry and Horny. If you see a gleam in his eyes, make him a sandwich.
Number 5
Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day. Teach a person to use the Internet and they won't bother you for weeks, months, maybe years.
Number 4
Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in the hospitals, dying of nothing.
Number 3
All of us could take a lesson from the weather. It pays no attention to criticism.

Number 2
In the 60's, people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world is weird and people take Prozac to make it normal.
And The Number 1 Thought
Life is like a jar of Jalapeno peppers--what you do today, might burn your ass tomorrow.


- - - and as someone recently said to me:

"Don't worry about old age--it doesn't last that long."

[avb3]

The Smith’s were proud of their family tradition. Their ancestors had come to America on the Mayflower. They had included Senators and Wall Street wizards.

They decided to compile a family history, a legacy for their children and grandchildren. They hired a fine author. Only one problem arose - how to handle that great-uncle George, who -was executed in the electric chair.

The author assured the family he could handle the story as tactfully as possible and was given the go-ahead to write the book.

The book appeared. It said “Great-uncle George occupied a chair of applied electronics at an important government institution and was attached to his position by the strongest of ties. His death came as a great shock.”.

[Troublemaker]

A Mafia Godfather finds out that his bookkeeper, Guido, has cheated him
out of $10,000,000.00.

His bookkeeper is deaf. That was the reason he got the job in the
first place. It was assumed that Guido could hear nothing and would
therefore never have to testify in court.

When the Godfather goes to confront Guido about the missing $10
million, he takes along his lawyer, who knows sign language. The
Godfather tells the lawyer, "Ask him where the money is."

The lawyer, using sign language, asks Guido, Where's the money?

Guido signs back, "I don't know what you are talking about."

The lawyer tells the Godfather, "He says he doesn't know what you are
talking about."

The Godfather pulls out a pistol, puts it to Guido's head and says,
"Ask him again or I'll kill him!"

The lawyer signs to Guido, "He'll kill you if you don't tell him."

Guido trembles and signs back, "OK! You win! The money is in a brown
briefcase, buried behind the shed at my cousin Bruno's house."

The Godfather asks the lawyer, "What did he say?"


The lawyer replies, "He says you don't have the balls to pull the
trigger."


Don't you just love lawyers?

[Dsanduril]

[lostsheep]

I went to the 'Bunnings' hardware store recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one.
You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'you are definitely going to s**t yourself' road-kill chili.
Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your arse cheeks WILL fall off.

Here is what happened. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened.
No 'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.


Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for the Bunnings store, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the home office. Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It was not until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me.


Oh, do not look at me like you do not know what I am talking about. I am referring to that ' Uh.., Oh.., S**t !, gotta go..' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time..
The thing is, this pain was different.
The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt.

In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.


There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me.

Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as a red aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any help.


I do not know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate... Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here is what I mean, and I am sure some of you at least will be able to relate.

I could have warned that poor clerk, but I did not. I simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could do before gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees.
This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. .......BIG mistake!!!!!


Here is the thing. When you laugh, it is hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.


Suddenly things were no longer funny. 'It' was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I would make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.


Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, " Son-of-a-b...... ! ", "Did it smell that bad when you ate it?", and then quickly left.


Once finished and I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said,
"Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes."

"It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem."


My smirking of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, "IT IS YOU ! ", then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return

Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls.
The next day I went to shop at Woolies supermarket.
I can't say anymore about that, because we are in court over the whole matter.


The B*st**ds claim they are going to have to repaint the store.

[lostsheep]

I wrote this the day after visiting the mine, a true story-Randy

Time for another truck driver story....

I had booked a load from a gold mine, in of all places Searchlight, NV. My directions were something like " take US 95 south, and turn right at road 164. Go west until you get to the big cactus with a bunch of little cactus's around it. Look for the sign. Follow that dirt road 28 miles to the gate."
Okay. So I find the dirt road, and proceed along nicely. Here and there I see some signs along the way.
"Walking Box Ranch", "Caution Turtle Area", "Open Range".

I finally get up to the gate for the mine, dismount my vehicle, and check in with the guard. Turns out they are closing this mine. An updated survey had placed it not in Nevada, but just barely into California. Being an open pit mine, California has a different set of rules for the structure of the pit. Seems that the angle of the pit would have to be increased to assuage the CA mining gods, and it was too costly to do that, so they closed the mine. Still plenty of gold there, though.
As he's telling me all this, the guard hands me a sheaf of papers to read, and then sign. Usually these are safety related things like you must drive on the left side of the haul roads, and where the emergency routes are and stuff like that. But the last one really caught my eye.
It was from the Dept. of Wildlife. I don't remember exactly what it said, but the gist of it was: " Thou shalt not interfere with or in any way molest the Desert Tortoise." Of course it was in MUCH more detail.

" Um, is tortoise molestation a big problem around here?" I asked.

"Well, you just can't bother them. At all. If one stops in the road to nap, you have to wait until it moves. You can't do anything to urge it on. You can't touch it, pick it up, poke it with a stick, nothing."

"Huh. Who'd a thunk it."

"Yup, we had one show up right here in the front gate one morning. She set herself down right in the driveway. Right where every vehicle had to go to get into the place."

"Really."

"Yep. The mine super called the Wildlife folks in Vegas to get something done."

"I would imagine so."

"Yup. They sent this feller out, and he shows up in this big SUV, full of stuff. He went over and looked at the turtle, got on his cell phone, talked to somebody for a minute and went back to his truck."

"Calling for back-up, or something?"

"Nope. He pulls out this little umbrella, a fold up chair and a jug of water. He stayed there six hours, guarding that turtle. Finally, the ol' girl woke up, and moseyed on her way. Course by that time the day was shot."

Well, I got to tell you.
Turtle molestation would have never ever crossed my mind. But it brings up some interesting questions, like:

How would you fare in the federal prison with such a charge?

"Hey, Whuddaya in fer, Bubba? Kill somebody? Drugs? What?"

" Naw. They got me fer turtle molestation."

Would you have to register as a turtle molester wherever you lived?
Would you be banned from the zoo?
Have to stay a hundred feet away from the turtle department at Walmart?

Geez, I'd never envisioned turtle molestation. Now it haunts me.

Excuse me.
I have to go wash out my minds eye now.....

[Johnathon123]

Hey man don't stress, Masters will open near you eventually. Sure they are owned by Woolworths but they will never match your faces to the "accidental" bombing of one of the stores.

BTW, is you nickname the skunk

Originally Posted by lostsheep

I went to the 'Bunnings' hardware store recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one.
You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'you are definitely going to s**t yourself' road-kill chili.
Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your arse cheeks WILL fall off.

Here is what happened. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened.
No 'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.


Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for the Bunnings store, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the home office. Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It was not until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me.


Oh, do not look at me like you do not know what I am talking about. I am referring to that ' Uh.., Oh.., S**t !, gotta go..' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time..
The thing is, this pain was different.
The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt.

In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.


There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me.

Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as a red aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any help.


I do not know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate... Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here is what I mean, and I am sure some of you at least will be able to relate.

I could have warned that poor clerk, but I did not. I simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could do before gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees.
This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. .......BIG mistake!!!!!


Here is the thing. When you laugh, it is hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.


Suddenly things were no longer funny. 'It' was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I would make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.


Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, " Son-of-a-b...... ! ", "Did it smell that bad when you ate it?", and then quickly left.


Once finished and I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said,
"Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes."

"It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem."


My smirking of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, "IT IS YOU ! ", then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return

Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls.
The next day I went to shop at Woolies supermarket.
I can't say anymore about that, because we are in court over the whole matter.


The B*st**ds claim they are going to have to repaint the store.

[pillum]

Originally Posted by lostsheep

I went to the 'Bunnings' hardware store recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one.

Blah blah blah blah blah...

The B*st**ds claim they are going to have to repaint the store.

Probably the worst attempt at toilet humor that I've ever skipped my way through!

[micah719]

A sailing related, plagiarised, piece of satire:

What if the Battle of Trafalgar would have to take place in modern times?

Just before the Battle of Trafalgar - a conversation is overheard on the deck of HMS Victory;

Nelson: “Order the signal, Hardy.”
Hardy: “Aye, aye sir.”
Nelson: “Hold on, that’s not what I dictated to Flags. What’s the meaning of this?”
Hardy: “Sorry sir?”
Nelson (reading aloud): ” England expects every person to do his or her duty, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, religious persuasion or disability.” “What gobbledygook is this?”
Hardy: “Admiralty policy, I’m afraid, sir. We’re an equal opportunities employer now. We had the devil’s own job getting ‘England’ past the censors, lest it be considered racist.”

Nelson: “Gadzooks, Hardy. Hand me my pipe and tobacco.”
Hardy: “Sorry sir. All naval vessels have now been designated smoke-free working environments.”
Nelson: “In that case, break open the rum ration. Let us splice the main brace to steel the men before battle.”
Hardy: “The rum ration has been abolished, Admiral. Its part of the Government’s policy on binge drinking.”

Nelson: “Good heavens, Hardy. I suppose we’d better get on with it ………..full speed ahead.”
Hardy: “I think you’ll find that there’s a 4 knot speed limit in this stretch of water.”
Nelson: “Damn it man! We are on the eve of the greatest sea battle in
history. We must advance with all dispatch. Report from the crow’s nest please.”
Hardy: “That won’t be possible, sir.”
Nelson: “What?”
Hardy: “Health and Safety have closed the crow’s nest, sir. No harness. And they said that rope ladders don’t meet regulations. They won’t let anyone up there until a proper scaffolding can be erected.”
Nelson: “Then get me the ship’s carpenter without delay, Hardy.”
Hardy: “He’s busy knocking up a wheelchair access to the fo’c’sle Admiral.”
Nelson: “Wheelchair access? I’ve never heard anything so absurd.”
Hardy: “Health and safety again, sir. We have to provide a barrier-free environment for the differently abled.”
Nelson: “Differently abled? I’ve only one arm and one eye and I refuse even to hear mention of the word. I didn’t rise to the rank of admiral by playing the disability card.”
Hardy: “Actually, sir, you did. The Royal Navy is underrepresented in the areas of visual impairment and limb deficiency.”

Nelson: “Whatever next? Give me full sail. The salt spray beckons.”
Hardy: “A couple of problems there too, sir. Health and safety won’t let the crew up the rigging without hard hats. And they don’t want anyone breathing in too much salt - haven’t you seen the adverts?”
Nelson: “I’ve never heard such infamy. Break out the cannon and tell the men to stand by to engage the enemy.”
Hardy: “The men are a bit worried about shooting at anyone, Admiral.”
Nelson: “What? This is mutiny !”
Hardy: “It’s not that, sir. It’s just that they’re afraid of being charged with murder if they actually kill anyone. There’s a couple of legal-aid lawyers on board, watching everyone like hawks.”

Nelson: “Then how are we to sink the Frenchies and the Spanish?”
Hardy: “Actually, sir, we’re not.”
Nelson: “We’re not?”
Hardy: “No, sir. The French and the Spanish are our European partners now. According to the Common Fisheries Policy, we shouldn’t even be in this stretch of water. We could get hit with a claim for compensation.”
Nelson: “But you must hate a Frenchman as you hate the devil.”
Hardy: “I wouldn’t let the ship’s diversity co-ordinator hear you saying that sir. You’ll be up on disciplinary report.”
Nelson: “You must consider every man an enemy, who speaks ill of your King.”
Hardy: “Not any more, sir. We must be inclusive in this multicultural age. Now put on your Kevlar vest; it’s the rules. It could save your life”

Nelson: “Don’t tell me - health and safety. Whatever happened to rum, sodomy and the lash?”
Hardy: As I explained, sir, rum is off the menu! And there’s a ban on corporal punishment.”
Nelson: “What about sodomy?”
Hardy: “I believe that is now legal, sir.”

Nelson: “In that case …kiss me, Hardy.

[delmarrey]

Originally Posted by micah719

A sailing related, plagiarised, piece of satire:

What if the Battle of Trafalgar would have to take place in modern times?

Just before the Battle of Trafalgar - a conversation is overheard on the deck of HMS Victory;

Nelson: “Order the signal, Hardy.”
Hardy: “Aye, aye sir.”
Nelson: “Hold on, that’s not what I dictated to Flags. What’s the meaning of this?”
Hardy: “Sorry sir?”
Nelson (reading aloud): ” England expects every person to do his or her duty, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, religious persuasion or disability.” “What gobbledygook is this?”
Hardy: “Admiralty policy, I’m afraid, sir. We’re an equal opportunities employer now. We had the devil’s own job getting ‘England’ past the censors, lest it be considered racist.”

Nelson: “Gadzooks, Hardy. Hand me my pipe and tobacco.”
Hardy: “Sorry sir. All naval vessels have now been designated smoke-free working environments.”
Nelson: “In that case, break open the rum ration. Let us splice the main brace to steel the men before battle.”
Hardy: “The rum ration has been abolished, Admiral. Its part of the Government’s policy on binge drinking.”

Nelson: “Good heavens, Hardy. I suppose we’d better get on with it ………..full speed ahead.”
Hardy: “I think you’ll find that there’s a 4 knot speed limit in this stretch of water.”
Nelson: “Damn it man! We are on the eve of the greatest sea battle in
history. We must advance with all dispatch. Report from the crow’s nest please.”
Hardy: “That won’t be possible, sir.”
Nelson: “What?”
Hardy: “Health and Safety have closed the crow’s nest, sir. No harness. And they said that rope ladders don’t meet regulations. They won’t let anyone up there until a proper scaffolding can be erected.”
Nelson: “Then get me the ship’s carpenter without delay, Hardy.”
Hardy: “He’s busy knocking up a wheelchair access to the fo’c’sle Admiral.”
Nelson: “Wheelchair access? I’ve never heard anything so absurd.”
Hardy: “Health and safety again, sir. We have to provide a barrier-free environment for the differently abled.”
Nelson: “Differently abled? I’ve only one arm and one eye and I refuse even to hear mention of the word. I didn’t rise to the rank of admiral by playing the disability card.”
Hardy: “Actually, sir, you did. The Royal Navy is underrepresented in the areas of visual impairment and limb deficiency.”

Nelson: “Whatever next? Give me full sail. The salt spray beckons.”
Hardy: “A couple of problems there too, sir. Health and safety won’t let the crew up the rigging without hard hats. And they don’t want anyone breathing in too much salt - haven’t you seen the adverts?”
Nelson: “I’ve never heard such infamy. Break out the cannon and tell the men to stand by to engage the enemy.”
Hardy: “The men are a bit worried about shooting at anyone, Admiral.”
Nelson: “What? This is mutiny !”
Hardy: “It’s not that, sir. It’s just that they’re afraid of being charged with murder if they actually kill anyone. There’s a couple of legal-aid lawyers on board, watching everyone like hawks.”

Nelson: “Then how are we to sink the Frenchies and the Spanish?”
Hardy: “Actually, sir, we’re not.”
Nelson: “We’re not?”
Hardy: “No, sir. The French and the Spanish are our European partners now. According to the Common Fisheries Policy, we shouldn’t even be in this stretch of water. We could get hit with a claim for compensation.”
Nelson: “But you must hate a Frenchman as you hate the devil.”
Hardy: “I wouldn’t let the ship’s diversity co-ordinator hear you saying that sir. You’ll be up on disciplinary report.”
Nelson: “You must consider every man an enemy, who speaks ill of your King.”
Hardy: “Not any more, sir. We must be inclusive in this multicultural age. Now put on your Kevlar vest; it’s the rules. It could save your life”

Nelson: “Don’t tell me - health and safety. Whatever happened to rum, sodomy and the lash?”
Hardy: As I explained, sir, rum is off the menu! And there’s a ban on corporal punishment.”
Nelson: “What about sodomy?”
Hardy: “I believe that is now legal, sir.”

Nelson: “In that case …kiss me, Hardy.

And this is why I quit working for the City government.

[harmonytek]

Probably the worst attempt at toilet humor that I've ever skipped my way through!


Skip, skip, skip to the lou...
Skip to the lou my darling...

[Underdog]

I read where the Irish Government has decided to assist in any future assault on Syria.
So far they have sent a boat full of cement and another full of sand.

They are planning a mortar attack.