The Joke Thread

[Coops]

Four elderly women golfers were playing a round when a man leapt out of the bushes and flashed them. One of them had a stroke, but the other three were too slow.

Coops.

[Coops]

One night , after the couple had retired for the night, the woman became aware that her husband was touching her in a most unusual manner. He started by running his hand across her shoulders and the small of her back. He ran his hand over her breasts, touching them very lightly. Then, he proceeded to run his hand gently down her side, sliding his hand over her stomach, and then down the other side to a point below her waist. He continued on, gently feeling her hips, first one side and the the other. His hand ran further down the outside of her thighs. His gentle probing then started up the inside of her left thigh, stopped and the returned to do the same to her right thigh.

By this time the woman was becoming aroused and she squirmed a little to better position herself.
The man stopped abruptly and rolled over.

"Why are you stopping darling?" she whispered.

He whispered back, "I found the remote!"

Coops.

[Coops]

I pulled an older woman at a club last night.
She was a bloody good sort for 57,
we drank,,,had a bit of a smooch
& she asked if I'd ever had the sportsman's double;
a mother and daughter threesome?
I said no.
We drank a bit more, then she says that tonight was my lucky night.
I went back to her place.
She put the hall light on & and shouted upstairs:
"Mum you still awake?"

Coops.

[Therapy]

You can stop now Coops.

Thanks.

[D&D]

A man who is dying in the hospital is surrounded by his two sons, daughter, his wife and nurse.

Says to his eldest son:
- To you, Peter, I leave the Beverly houses.

- To you, my dear daughter, I leave the apartments in the Los Angeles Plaza.

- To you, Charlie, being my youngest son with a large future, I leave the City Centre offices.

- And you, my dear wife, the three residential buildings towers in downtown.

The nurse, impressed, tells his wife:
Madam, your husband is very rich. He is bequeathing many properties! You all are so lucky!!

And the wife retorts:
Rich???
Lucky???
Are you kidding !!??
Those are his routes where he delivers milk!!

[Seaworthy Lass]

Originally Posted by Therapy

You can stop now Coops.
Thanks.

Oh, please don't stop Coops. You have a huge fan club here .
I look foward to my fix every morning with my cuppa .

[pbiJim]

An IRS agent arrives at a farm house & knocks at the front door. When the farmer arrives, the agent informs him that he is there to search the farm & do an audit of his assets. The farmer says that he is welcomed to search anywhere he want's except that he should stay out of the south pasture behind the big barn.

The agent becomes irate, shoves his badge in the farmer's face & screams "I am a FEDERAL agent from the I-R-S! THIS BADGE says that I can go ANYWHERE that I please & you have NOTHING to say about it!

The farmer then bows his head, shrugs, & walks off, shaking his head a little.

A few minutes later the farmer hears screams coming from the south pasture. He looks out a window & sees the IRS agent running for his life, followed closely by a large bull. The farmer opens the window, then yells "show him your badge smarty pants, show him your badge!"

[Harter]

Hi all have a good day,, this is one I love and I wish I could write like this..


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 a blue arc of electrictity 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 needed to try this thing on a flesh and blood moving target. I must admit that I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and then thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat.

But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect her 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 on my nose, directions in one hand, taser in the other. 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; and 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″ in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, ‘no possibly 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 if 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 the 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 Venture 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, 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.

IT 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 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.

Apparently I pooped 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 can’t stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift and now regularly threatens me with it!

[carstenb]

One day, as a husband was reading the Sunday paper, his wife smacked him upside the head with a frying pan.

"What was that for?" cried the husband.

"I was doing your laundry when I found a piece of paper with the name of Marylou on it!" screamed the wife. "Who is she? Are you cheating on me?"

"Honey don't worry. Remember when I went to the horse race three weeks ago with my friends? Marylou was the name of the horse I was betting on.

Satisfied, the wife continued doing the laundry. A few hours later, the wife smacked the husband with a frying pan again.

"What was that for?" said the annoyed husband.

"Your horse called.

[carstenb]

A girl asks her boyfriend to come over Friday night and have dinner with her parents. Since this is such a big event, the girl announces to her boyfriend that after dinner, she would like to go out and make love for the first time.
Well, the boy is ecstatic, but he has never had sex before, so he takes a trip to the pharmacist to get some condoms. The pharmacist helps the boy for about an hour. He tells the boy everything there is to know about condoms and sex.
At the register, the pharmacist asks the boy how many condoms he'd like to buy, a 3-pack, 10-pack, or family pack. The boy insists on the family pack because he thinks he will be rather busy, it being his first time and all.
That night, the boy shows up at the girl's parents house and meets his girlfriend at the door. "Oh, I'm so excited for you to meet my parents, come on in!" The boy goes inside and is taken to the dinner table where the girl's parents are seated. The boy quickly offers to say grace and bows his head. A minute passes, and the boy is still deep in prayer, with his head down. 10 minutes pass, and still no movement from the boy. Finally, after 20 minutes with his head down, the girlfriend leans over and whispers to the boyfriend, "I had no idea you were this religious." The boy turns, and whispers back, "I had no idea your father was a pharmacist."

[carstenb]

A contestant on Who Wants to be a Millionaire? had reached the final plateau. If she answered the next question correctly, she would win the million dollars. If she answered incorrectly, she would pocket only the $32,000 milestone money.

And as she suspected it would be, the million-dollar question was no pushover. It was, "Which of the following species of birds does not build its own nest, but instead lays its eggs in the nests of other birds? Is it A) the condor; B) the buzzard; C) the cuckoo; or D) the vulture?"

The woman was on the spot. She did not know the answer. And she was doubly on the spot because she had used up her 50/50 Lifeline and her Audience Poll Lifeline. All that remained was her Phone-a-Friend Lifeline, and the woman had hoped against hope that she would not have to use it. Mainly because the only friend that she knew would be home happened to be a blonde.

But the contestant had no alternative. She called her friend and gave her the question and the four choices. The blonde responded unhesitatingly: "That's easy. The answer is 'C' -- the cuckoo."

The contestant had to make a decision and make it fast. She considered employing a reverse strategy and giving Regis any answer except the one that her friend had given her. And considering that her friend was a blonde, that would seem to be the logical thing to do.

On the other hand, the blonde had responded with such confidence, such certitude, that the contestant could not help but be persuaded.

Time was up. "I need an answer," said Regis.

Crossing her fingers, the contestant said, "C) the cuckoo."

"Is that your final answer?" asked Regis.

"Yes, that is my final answer," she said, breaking into a sweat.

After the usual foot-dragging delay Regis said, "I regret to inform you that that answer is ... absolutely correct. You are now a millionaire!"

Three days later, the contestant hosted a party for her family and friends, including the blonde who had helped her win the million dollars.

"Jenny, I just do not know how to thank you," said the contestant. "Because of your knowing the answer to that final question, I am now a millionaire. And do you want to know something? It was the assuredness with which you answered the question that convinced me to go with your choice."

"You're welcome!" the blonde said.

"By the way," the winner said, not being able to contain the question anymore. "How did you happen to know the right answer?"

"Oh, come on," said the blonde. "Everybody knows that cuckoos don't build nests. They live in clocks."

[Coops]

freeway or squirrel
Want A Laugh, Read This Today


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 ****ed-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.

Coops.

[Coops]

A beautiful, voluptuous woman went to a gynaecologist.
The doctor took one look at this woman and all his
professionalism went out the window.
He immediately told her to undress. After she had
disrobed the doctor began to stroke her thigh. Doing
so, he asked her, "Do you know what I'm doing?"
"Yes," she replied, "you're checking for any abrasions
or dermatological abnormalities." "That is right," said
the doctor. He then began to fondle her breasts. "Do
you know what I'm doing now?" he asked.
"Yes," the woman said, "you're checking for any lumps or
breast cancer." "Correct," replied the shady doctor.
Finally, he mounted his patient and started having sexual
intercourse with her. He asked, "Do you know what I'm doing
now?"
"Yes," she said. "You're getting herpes; which is why I came
here in the first place."

Coops.

[Coops]

Last night, my wife and I were sitting in the living room and I said to her,

"I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle. If that ever happens, just pull the plug."

She got up, unplugged the TV and threw out my beer...

Coops.

[Coops]

The Pope was having a shower. Although he is very strict about the celibacy rules, he occasionally felt the need to exercise the right wrist and this was one of those occasions.
Just as he reached the Papal Climax, he saw a photographer taking a picture of the holy seed flying through the air.
"Hold on a minute" said the Pope. "You can't do that. You'll destroy the reputation of the Catholic Church".
"This picture is my lottery win" said the photographer. "I'll be financially secure for life".
So, the Pope offered to buy the camera off the photographer, and after lots of negotiation, they eventually arrived at a figure of two million dollars.
The Pope then dried himself off and headed off with his new camera.
He met his housekeeper, who spotted the camera. "That looks like a really good camera" she said "how much did it cost you?"
"Two million dollars" replied the Pope.
"TWO MILLION DOLLARS!" said the housekeeper, "They must have seen you coming".
__________________

Coops.