More Humor (Part III)
11-07-2007, 10:09 AM
#46
Registered User
If Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama fall off of a 50 story building at exactly the same time who will hit the ground first???
WHO CARES!!!
WHO CARES!!!
11-07-2007, 10:10 AM
#47
Registered User
When a man steals your wife, there is no better revenge than to let him keep her.
Sacha Guitry
After marriage, husband and wife become two sides of a coin; they just can't face each other, but still they stay together.
Hemant Joshi
By all means marry. If you get a good wife, you'll be happy. If you get a bad one, you'll become a philosopher. Socrates
Woman inspires us to great things, and prevents us from achieving them.
Dumas
The great question... which I have not been able to answer... is, "What does a woman want?
Sigmund Freud
I had some words with my wife, and she had some paragraphs with me.
Anonymous
"Some people ask the secret of our long marriage. We take time to go to a restaurant two times a week. A little candlelight, dinner, soft music and dancing. She goes Tuesdays, I go Fridays."
Henny Youngman
"I don't worry about terrorism. I was married for two years."
Sam Kinison
"There's a way of transferring funds that is even faster than electronic banking. It's called marriage."
James Holt McGavran
"I've had bad luck with both my wives . The first one left me, and the second one didn't."
Patrick Murray
Two secrets to keep your marriage brimming
1. Whenever you're wrong, admit it,
2. Whenever you're right, shut up.
Nash
The most effective way to remember your wife's birthday is to forget it once...
Anonymous
You know what I did before I married? Anything I wanted to.
Henny Youngman
My wife and I were happy for twenty years. Then we met.
Rodney Dangerfield
A good wife always forgives her husband when she's wrong.
Milton Berle
Marriage is the only war where one sleeps with the enemy.
Anonymous
A man inserted an 'ad' in the classifieds: "Wife wanted". Next day he received a hundred letters. They all said the same thing: "You can have mine."
Anonymous
First Guy (proudly): "My wife's an angel!"
Second Guy: "You're lucky, mine's still alive."
Sacha Guitry
After marriage, husband and wife become two sides of a coin; they just can't face each other, but still they stay together.
Hemant Joshi
By all means marry. If you get a good wife, you'll be happy. If you get a bad one, you'll become a philosopher. Socrates
Woman inspires us to great things, and prevents us from achieving them.
Dumas
The great question... which I have not been able to answer... is, "What does a woman want?
Sigmund Freud
I had some words with my wife, and she had some paragraphs with me.
Anonymous
"Some people ask the secret of our long marriage. We take time to go to a restaurant two times a week. A little candlelight, dinner, soft music and dancing. She goes Tuesdays, I go Fridays."
Henny Youngman
"I don't worry about terrorism. I was married for two years."
Sam Kinison
"There's a way of transferring funds that is even faster than electronic banking. It's called marriage."
James Holt McGavran
"I've had bad luck with both my wives . The first one left me, and the second one didn't."
Patrick Murray
Two secrets to keep your marriage brimming
1. Whenever you're wrong, admit it,
2. Whenever you're right, shut up.
Nash
The most effective way to remember your wife's birthday is to forget it once...
Anonymous
You know what I did before I married? Anything I wanted to.
Henny Youngman
My wife and I were happy for twenty years. Then we met.
Rodney Dangerfield
A good wife always forgives her husband when she's wrong.
Milton Berle
Marriage is the only war where one sleeps with the enemy.
Anonymous
A man inserted an 'ad' in the classifieds: "Wife wanted". Next day he received a hundred letters. They all said the same thing: "You can have mine."
Anonymous
First Guy (proudly): "My wife's an angel!"
Second Guy: "You're lucky, mine's still alive."
11-07-2007, 12:42 PM
#48
Registered User
Side effects of Rx drugs
A woman asks her husband, "Would you like some bacon and eggs? A slice of toast, and maybe some grapefruit and coffee?"
He declines. "Thanks for asking, but I'm not hungry right now. It's this Viagra," he says. "It's really taken the edge off my appetite."
At lunchtime she asked him if he would like something."A bowl of soup, homemade muffins, or a cheese sandwich?"
He declines. "The Viagra," he says, "really trashes my desire for food."
Come dinnertime, she asks if he wants anything to eat. "Would you like a juicy ribeye steak and scrumptious apple pie? Or maybe a rotisserie chicken or tasty stir fry?"
He declines again. "No," he says, "it's got to be the Viagra...I'm still not hungry."
Well," she says, "Would you mind letting me up? I'm starving!"
He declines. "Thanks for asking, but I'm not hungry right now. It's this Viagra," he says. "It's really taken the edge off my appetite."
At lunchtime she asked him if he would like something."A bowl of soup, homemade muffins, or a cheese sandwich?"
He declines. "The Viagra," he says, "really trashes my desire for food."
Come dinnertime, she asks if he wants anything to eat. "Would you like a juicy ribeye steak and scrumptious apple pie? Or maybe a rotisserie chicken or tasty stir fry?"
He declines again. "No," he says, "it's got to be the Viagra...I'm still not hungry."
Well," she says, "Would you mind letting me up? I'm starving!"
11-07-2007, 03:41 PM
#50
DTR's Night Watchman & Poet Laureate
The Ladies Room
teh BOSS sent me this and its FUNNY!!!!!!!probably more so to you ladies....
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of
women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn,
you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman
leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait
has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the
modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but
empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one,
but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your
neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank
down your pants, and assume " The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake.
You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the
seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you
discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can
hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the
seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake
more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the
one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck,
that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the
same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way
possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door
hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your
chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the
toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your
precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your
footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet
of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your
bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on
the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that
there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your
mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain
her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly,
dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so
confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose
against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that
covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush
somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty
toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the
wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper
you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the
sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic
sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk
past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the
very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from
your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from
your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you
just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and
left the men's rest-room. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long,
and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public rest-rooms
(rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men
what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly
asked questions about why women go to the rest-room in pairs. It's so
the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you
Kleenex under the door!
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of
women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn,
you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman
leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait
has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the
modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but
empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one,
but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your
neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank
down your pants, and assume " The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake.
You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the
seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you
discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can
hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the
seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake
more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the
one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck,
that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the
same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way
possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door
hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your
chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the
toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your
precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your
footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet
of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your
bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on
the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that
there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your
mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain
her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly,
dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so
confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose
against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that
covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush
somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty
toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the
wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper
you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the
sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic
sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk
past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the
very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from
your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from
your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you
just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and
left the men's rest-room. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long,
and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public rest-rooms
(rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men
what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly
asked questions about why women go to the rest-room in pairs. It's so
the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you
Kleenex under the door!
11-07-2007, 04:53 PM
#52
Registered User
Join Date: Jun 2007
Location: Freeland, Oxfordshire, UK
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"Hello?"
"Hi honey. This is Daddy. Is Mommy near the phone?"
"No Daddy. She's upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul."
After a brief pause,
Daddy says, "But honey, you haven't got an Uncle Paul."
"Oh yes I do, and he's upstairs in the room with Mommy, right now."
Brief Pause.
"Uh, okay then, this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down on the table, run upstairs and knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy that Daddy's car just pulled into the driveway."
"Okay Daddy, just a minute."
A few minutes later the little girl comes back to the phone.
"I did it Daddy."
"And what happened honey?"
"Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed with no clothes on and ran around screaming. Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser and now she isn't moving at all!"
"Oh my God!!! What about your Uncle Paul?"
"He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too. He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window and into the swimming pool.
But I guess he didn't know that you took out the water last week to clean it. He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he's dead."
***Long Pause***
***Longer Pause***
***Even Longer Pause***
Then Daddy says, "Swimming pool? Is this 486-5731?"
No, this is 486-5713 ....
"Sorry, wrong number !"
"Hi honey. This is Daddy. Is Mommy near the phone?"
"No Daddy. She's upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul."
After a brief pause,
Daddy says, "But honey, you haven't got an Uncle Paul."
"Oh yes I do, and he's upstairs in the room with Mommy, right now."
Brief Pause.
"Uh, okay then, this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down on the table, run upstairs and knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy that Daddy's car just pulled into the driveway."
"Okay Daddy, just a minute."
A few minutes later the little girl comes back to the phone.
"I did it Daddy."
"And what happened honey?"
"Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed with no clothes on and ran around screaming. Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser and now she isn't moving at all!"
"Oh my God!!! What about your Uncle Paul?"
"He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too. He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window and into the swimming pool.
But I guess he didn't know that you took out the water last week to clean it. He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he's dead."
***Long Pause***
***Longer Pause***
***Even Longer Pause***
Then Daddy says, "Swimming pool? Is this 486-5731?"
No, this is 486-5713 ....
"Sorry, wrong number !"
11-08-2007, 07:40 AM
#54
Registered User
If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet
syndrome, including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story
below will have you laughing out LOUD!
Overview: I had to take my son's lizard to the vet.
Here's what happened: Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell
me there was "something wrong" with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner
in his room.
"He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious, Dad .
Can you help?"
I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him into
his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back,
looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do. "Honey," I called, "come
look at the lizard!"
"Oh, my gosh!" my wife exclaimed. "She's having babies."
"What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!"
I was equally outraged.
"Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to
reproduce," I said accusingly to my wife.
"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she
inquired (I think she actually said this sarcastically!)
"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in my
most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth).
"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know," she
informed me (Again with the sarcasm!).
By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I
shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.
"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience," I announced. "We're
about to witness the miracle of birth."
"Oh, gross!" they shrieked
"Well, isn't THAT just great? What are we going to do with a litter of
tiny little lizard babies?" my wife wanted to know.
We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a
tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.
"We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted.
"It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified.
"Do something, Dad !" my son urged.
"Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it
next appeared, giving it a gentle tug.
It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.
"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know.
"Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here
with the females in my house?)
"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to the vet with
my son holding the cage in his lap."Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged.
"I don't think lizards do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can
be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing,
but this boy is of her womb, for G~d's sake.).
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little
animal through a magnifying glass.
"What do you think, Doc, a C-section?" I suggested scientifically.
"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak
to you privately for a moment?"
I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.
"Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This lizard is not in labor. In
fact, that isn't EVER going to happen. . . Ernie is a boy. You see,
Ernie is a young male. And
occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they
um . . um . . . pleasure themselves. Just the way he did, lying on his back." He
blushed, glancing at my wife.
We were silent, absorbing this.
"So, Ernie's just . just . . . excited," my wife offered.
"Exactly," the vet replied , relieved that we understood.
More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And
giggle. And then even laugh loudly.
"What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the
woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless
manliness.
Tears were now running down her face. "It's just .that . . I'm
picturing you pulling on its .. . . its. . . teeny little . . "
She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
"That's enough," I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the
lizard and our son back into the car.. He was glad everything was going
to be okay.
"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you did, Dad ," he told me.
"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
Two lizards: $140.
One cage: $50.
Trip to the vet: $30.
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie:
Priceless!
Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class. Lizards lay eggs!
syndrome, including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story
below will have you laughing out LOUD!
Overview: I had to take my son's lizard to the vet.
Here's what happened: Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell
me there was "something wrong" with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner
in his room.
"He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious, Dad .
Can you help?"
I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him into
his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back,
looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do. "Honey," I called, "come
look at the lizard!"
"Oh, my gosh!" my wife exclaimed. "She's having babies."
"What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!"
I was equally outraged.
"Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to
reproduce," I said accusingly to my wife.
"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she
inquired (I think she actually said this sarcastically!)
"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in my
most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth).
"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know," she
informed me (Again with the sarcasm!).
By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I
shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.
"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience," I announced. "We're
about to witness the miracle of birth."
"Oh, gross!" they shrieked
"Well, isn't THAT just great? What are we going to do with a litter of
tiny little lizard babies?" my wife wanted to know.
We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a
tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.
"We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted.
"It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified.
"Do something, Dad !" my son urged.
"Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it
next appeared, giving it a gentle tug.
It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.
"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know.
"Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here
with the females in my house?)
"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to the vet with
my son holding the cage in his lap."Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged.
"I don't think lizards do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can
be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing,
but this boy is of her womb, for G~d's sake.).
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little
animal through a magnifying glass.
"What do you think, Doc, a C-section?" I suggested scientifically.
"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak
to you privately for a moment?"
I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.
"Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This lizard is not in labor. In
fact, that isn't EVER going to happen. . . Ernie is a boy. You see,
Ernie is a young male. And
occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they
um . . um . . . pleasure themselves. Just the way he did, lying on his back." He
blushed, glancing at my wife.
We were silent, absorbing this.
"So, Ernie's just . just . . . excited," my wife offered.
"Exactly," the vet replied , relieved that we understood.
More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And
giggle. And then even laugh loudly.
"What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the
woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless
manliness.
Tears were now running down her face. "It's just .that . . I'm
picturing you pulling on its .. . . its. . . teeny little . . "
She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
"That's enough," I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the
lizard and our son back into the car.. He was glad everything was going
to be okay.
"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you did, Dad ," he told me.
"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
Two lizards: $140.
One cage: $50.
Trip to the vet: $30.
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie:
Priceless!
Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class. Lizards lay eggs!
11-10-2007, 09:50 PM
#55
Registered User
Bobbitt Family Update
In a recent news broadcast, it was announced that Lorena Bobbitt's sister Louella was arrested for an alleged attempt to perform the same act on her husband as her famous sister had done several years ago. Sources reveal the sister was not as accurate as Lorena.
She allegedly missed the target and stabbed her husband in the upper thigh causing severe muscle and tendon damage. The husband is reported to be in serious, but stable condition, and Louella has been charged with ......
?
?
?
?
?
A Misdewiener!
In a recent news broadcast, it was announced that Lorena Bobbitt's sister Louella was arrested for an alleged attempt to perform the same act on her husband as her famous sister had done several years ago. Sources reveal the sister was not as accurate as Lorena.
She allegedly missed the target and stabbed her husband in the upper thigh causing severe muscle and tendon damage. The husband is reported to be in serious, but stable condition, and Louella has been charged with ......
?
?
?
?
?
A Misdewiener!
WHER-EVER-I-GO-THEREIBE !
11-11-2007, 03:56 AM
#57
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Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: Owensboro KY
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11-11-2007, 04:34 AM
#59
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Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: Fort Collins CO
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THINGS THAT ARE DIFF ICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:
Indubitably
Innovative
Preliminary
Proliferation
Cinnamon
THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK
Specificity
British Constitution
Passive-aggressive disorder
Loquacious
Transubstantiate
THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:
Nope, no more booze for me.
Sorry, but you're not really my type.
Good evening officer isn't it lovely out tonight.
Oh, I just couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing.
But seriously, try saying the words in the first column...its hard, very hard...had to remove a few of the impossible ones to say...don't want anymore infractions
Indubitably
Innovative
Preliminary
Proliferation
Cinnamon
THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK
Specificity
British Constitution
Passive-aggressive disorder
Loquacious
Transubstantiate
THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:
Nope, no more booze for me.
Sorry, but you're not really my type.
Good evening officer isn't it lovely out tonight.
Oh, I just couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing.
But seriously, try saying the words in the first column...its hard, very hard...had to remove a few of the impossible ones to say...don't want anymore infractions
11-11-2007, 04:41 AM
#60
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Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: Fort Collins CO
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> Q. What's a mixed feeling?
> A. When you see your mother-in-law backing off a cliff in your new car
> Q. What's the definition of macho?
> A. Jogging home from your vasectomy.
> Q.Why is divorce so expensive?
> A. Because it's worth it!
Sorry I've posted so many times...I'm just really bored and going through all my emails to find jokes that are ok to post
> A. When you see your mother-in-law backing off a cliff in your new car
> Q. What's the definition of macho?
> A. Jogging home from your vasectomy.
> Q.Why is divorce so expensive?
> A. Because it's worth it!
Sorry I've posted so many times...I'm just really bored and going through all my emails to find jokes that are ok to post