Official Joke Thread!

[A//// Guy]

Good thing I dont like beer.

[Tauni]

Here's an interesting poem my mother taught me. Only the immature will appreciate it. I'm glad I'm still immature :)


Here I sit
All broken hearted.
Tried to shit
But only farted.
Later, I had a second chance.
Tried to fart,
But shit my pants.

[Shotgun!]

A man comes home from work and his wife tells him that the shoe salesman insulted her and she wants him to go beat him up. He asked what he said and she said that he wanted to eat my pussy full of icecream. The man yells you are the one I should beat up. First off you do not need any shoes, second I have told you about going to town with no panties on and third anyone who can eat that much icecream I ain't messing with.

[Talian]

FEMALE PRAYER

Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man, who's not a creep.

One who's handsome, smart and strong
One who loves to listen long.

One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.

I pray he's gainfully employed,
when I spend his cash on "MY DSM" he won't be annoyed.

Pulls out my chair and opens my door,
Massages my back and begs to do more.

Oh! Send me a man who'll make love to my mind & body,
and knows what to answer to "how big is my behind?

I pray that this man will love me to no end,
and always be my very best friend.

*Amen.


MALE PRAYER:

I pray for a deaf-mute nymphomaniac,
with perky boobs who owns a liquor store and a boat.

This doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit.

*Amen*

[Tauni]

When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.

I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying

"Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robin Carter?"

Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. I had transposed the last two digits of her phone number. After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, "You're an asshole!" and hung up.

I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an asshole!". It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the Telephone Company. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?" He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone.
I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!"

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot. The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window, so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial) I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole, too.

I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"

"Yes, it is."

"Can you tell me where I can see it?"

"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front."

"What's your name?" I asked.

"My name is Don Hansen," he said.

"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I'm home every evening after five."

"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes?"

"Don, you're an asshole." Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. But after several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. So, I came up with an idea. I called Asshole #1.

"Hello."
"You're an asshole!" (But I didn't hang up.)

"Are you still there?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Stop calling me," he screamed.

"Make me," I said.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Don Hansen."

"Yeah? Where do you live?"

"Asshole, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front."

He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."

I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole."

Then I called Asshole #2. "Hello?" he said.

"Hello, asshole," I said.

He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."

"You'll what?" I said.

"I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed.

I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1802 West 34th Street, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 13 News about the gang war going down on West 34th Street.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th street. There I saw two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars, a police helicopter and a news crew.

NOW I feel much better. Anger management really works



Haha that one might be old but its HILARIOUS

[Tauni]

When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.

I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying

"Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robin Carter?"

Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. I had transposed the last two digits of her phone number. After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, "You're an asshole!" and hung up.

I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an asshole!". It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the Telephone Company. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?" He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone.
I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!"

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot. The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window, so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial) I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole, too.

I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"

"Yes, it is."

"Can you tell me where I can see it?"

"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front."

"What's your name?" I asked.

"My name is Don Hansen," he said.

"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I'm home every evening after five."

"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes?"

"Don, you're an asshole." Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. But after several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. So, I came up with an idea. I called Asshole #1.

"Hello."
"You're an asshole!" (But I didn't hang up.)

"Are you still there?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Stop calling me," he screamed.

"Make me," I said.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Don Hansen."

"Yeah? Where do you live?"

"Asshole, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front."

He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."

I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole."

Then I called Asshole #2. "Hello?" he said.

"Hello, asshole," I said.

He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."

"You'll what?" I said.

"I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed.

I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1802 West 34th Street, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 13 News about the gang war going down on West 34th Street.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th street. There I saw two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars, a police helicopter and a news crew.

NOW I feel much better. Anger management really works



Haha that one might be old but its HILARIOUS

[Super Bleeder!!]

and thanks for posting it TWICE ;)

[A//// Guy]

Two married buddies are out drinking one night, when one turns to the other and says, "You know, I don't know what else to do. Whenever I go home after we've been out drinking, I turn the headlights off before I get to the driveway. I shut off the engine and coast into the garage.

Take my shoes off before I go into the house, I sneak up the stairs, get

undressed in the bathroom, stick my foot in the toilet and pee down my leg to prevent splashing sounds. I ease into bed and my wife STILL Wakes

Up,and Yells at me for staying out so late!

"His buddy looks at him and says "Well, you're obviously taking the wrong approach. I screech into the driveway, slam the door, storm up the

steps, pee hard into the toilet water, then use the full flush, throw my shoes in the closet, undress in the bedroom, then jump into bed, slap

her on the ass and say!, WHO'S HORNY????!!!" and she acts like she's sound asleep.

It Works Every Time!

[Pushit2.0]

Thats a old one but a good one, I should try that.

~John

[Jakey]

Only a true Texan could think of this.... from the
county where drunk driving is considered a sport,
comes this true story.

Recently a routine police patrol parked outside a bar
in Austin, TX. After last call, the officer noticed a
man leaving the Bar, apparently so intoxicated that
he could barely walk. The man stumbled around the
parking lot for a few minutes, with the officer
quietly observing.

After what seemed an eternity and trying his keys on
five different vehicles, the man managed to find his
car which he fell into. He sat there for a few
minutes as a number of other patrons left the
bar and drove off.

Finally he started the car, switched the wipers on
and off (it was a fine, dry summer night)-- flicked
the blinkers on, then off a couple of times, honked
the horn and then switched on the lights.

He moved the vehicle forward a few &nbs! p;inches , reversed
a little and then remained still for a few more
minutes as some more of the other patron vehicles
left.

At last, the parking lot empty, he pulled out of the
parking lot and started to drive slowly down the
road. The police officer, having patiently waited
all this time, now started up the patrol car, put on
the flashing lights, and promptly pulled the man over
and carried out a Breathalyzer test.

To his amazement the Breathalyzer indicated no
evidence of the man having consumed any alcohol at
all!! Dumbfounded, the officer said, "I'll have to
ask you to accompany me to the police station. This
Breathalyzer equipment must be broken".

"I doubt it," said the truly proud Cowboy. "Tonight
I'm the Designated Decoy."

We Ain't all as dumb as we look!!!