Saturday, 16 March 2013
Out of the mouths of children
A woman was driving with her three young children one warm summer evening when a woman in the convertible ahead stood up and waved. She was stark naked! As she was reeling from the shock, the woman heard her 4-year-old shout from the back seat, 'Mom, that lady isn't wearing a seat belt!'
******
A woman was trying hard to get the ketchup out of the jar. During her struggle the phone rang so she asked her 4-year-old daughter to answer the phone. 'Mommy can't come to the phone to talk to you right now. She's hitting the bottle.'
******
While working for an organization that delivers lunches to the elderly, a woman used to take her 5-year-old son on her afternoon rounds. He was unfailingly intrigued by the various appliances of old age, particularly the canes, walkers and wheelchairs. One day the woman found the little boy staring at a pair of false teeth soaking in a glass. As she braced herself for the inevitable barrage of questions, the boy merely turned and whispered, 'The tooth fairy will never believe this!'
******
A little girl had just finished her first week of school. 'I'm just wasting my time,' she said to her mother. 'I can't read, I can't write, and they won't let me talk!'
Labels:
children
Friday, 15 March 2013
A very quick post
I'm feeling a little bit delicate today. We had a very good time with friends yesterday: Great food and perhaps too many of the usual conversation lubricants on the side...
Labels:
friends
Thursday, 14 March 2013
Arriving home drunk
Here we have two jokes about arriving home inebriated, one featuring a woman, courtesy of Mrsgunka, and the other about a man, sent in by View_From_Here. Thank you for the laughs, MrsG and View.
The other night I was invited out for a night with " the girls. " I told my husband that I would be home by midnight, " I promise! "
Well, the hours passed and the margaritas went down way too easy.
Around 3 a.m., a bit loaded, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed 3 times.
Quickly, realizing my husband would probably wake up, I cuckooed another 9 times.
I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution (even when totally smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with him.
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him "Midnight". He didn't seem upset at all. Whew! Got away with that one!
Then he said, " We need a new cuckoo clock. "
When I asked him why, he said, " Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said, " Oh sh*t! ", cuckooed 4 more times, cleared it's throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted.
Flynn staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Mary.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Flynn sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Flynn woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and Mary staring at him from across the room.
She said, "You were drunk again last night weren't you?"
Flynn said, "Why would you say such a mean thing?"
"Well," Mary said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly.....it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.
The other night I was invited out for a night with " the girls. " I told my husband that I would be home by midnight, " I promise! "
Well, the hours passed and the margaritas went down way too easy.
Around 3 a.m., a bit loaded, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed 3 times.
Quickly, realizing my husband would probably wake up, I cuckooed another 9 times.
I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution (even when totally smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with him.
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him "Midnight". He didn't seem upset at all. Whew! Got away with that one!
Then he said, " We need a new cuckoo clock. "
When I asked him why, he said, " Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said, " Oh sh*t! ", cuckooed 4 more times, cleared it's throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted.
*********
Flynn staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Mary.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Flynn sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Flynn woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and Mary staring at him from across the room.
She said, "You were drunk again last night weren't you?"
Flynn said, "Why would you say such a mean thing?"
"Well," Mary said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly.....it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.
Labels:
jokes
Wednesday, 13 March 2013
Don't tell me!
A father asked his 10-year-old son if he knew about the birds and the bees.
'I don't want to know,' the child said, bursting into tears. 'Promise me you won't tell me.'
Confused, the father asked what was wrong.
The boy sobbed, 'When I was six, I got the 'There's no Easter Bunny' speech...
'At seven, I got the 'There's no Tooth Fairy' speech.
'When I was eight, you hit me with the 'There's no Santa' speech.
If you're going to tell me that grown-ups don't really have sex, I'll have nothing left to live for.'
Labels:
jokes
Tuesday, 12 March 2013
Unnecessary things
The accumulation of various niggly bits and pieces over the years made me think of some serious design faults in the human body.
Who needs:
1) Bunions
2) Ingrown toenails
3) Frizzy hair
4) Mouth ulcers
5) Zits
and above all, what the hell are hemorrhoids for???
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