The Flight Crew


The airliner pushed back from the gate;

The flight attendant gave the passengers the usual
Information regarding seat belts, etc .

Finally, she said, 'Now sit back and enjoy your trip
While your captain, Judith Campbell,
And crew take you safely to your destination.'

Ed, sitting in the eighth row, thought to himself,
'Did I hear her right? Is the captain a woman?'
When the attendant came by with the drink cart
He said, 'Did I understand you right?
Is the captain a woman?'




'Yes,' said the attendant,
'In fact, this entire crew is female.'

'My Goodness' said Ed,
'I'd better have two scotch and sodas.
I don't know what to think
With only women up there in the cockpit.'

'That's another thing sir,' said the attendant,
'We No Longer Call It The Cock Pit.'



'It's The Box Office.'

A BOTTLE OF MERLOT


A man asked a waiter to take a bottle of Merlot to an unusually
attractive woman sitting alone at a table in a cozy little restaurant.
So the waiter took the Merlot to the woman and said,
'This is from the gentleman who is seated over there.' ..and
indicated the sender with a nod of his head. She stared at the
wine coolly for a few seconds, not looking at the man, then decided
to send a reply to him by a note. The waiter, who was lingering
nearby for a response, took the note from her and conveyed it to
the gentleman.

The note read:

'For me to accept this bottle, you need to have a Mercedes in your
garage, a million dollars in the bank and 7 inches in your pants '

After reading the note, the man decided to compose one of his own
in return. He folded the note, handed it to the waiter and instructed him
to deliver it to the lady.


It read:

'Just to let you know things ar en't always what they appear to be, I have a
Ferrari Maranello, Bentley Convertible, Mercedes SL600, and a Porsche Carrera 4 in several garages; I have beautiful homes in Aspen , Italy , South Florida and a 10,000 acre ranch in California . There is over one hundred and sixty million dollars in my bank account and portfolio. But, not even for a woman as beautiful as you are, would I cut off three inches. Just send the bottle back.'

Story of our lives!!!


Baby Bear goes downstairs and sits in his small chair at the table, he
looks into his small bowl. It is empty. 'Who's been eating my porridge?'
he squeaks.
Papa Bear arrives at the big table and sits in his big chair. He looks
in his big bowl, and it is also empty. ' Who's been eating my Porridge?' he roars.

Momma Bear puts her head through the serving hatch from the kitchen and yells, 'For Christ's sake, how many times do we have to go through this with you idiots? It was Momma Bear who got up first, it was Momma Bear who woke everyone in the house, it was Momma Bear who made the coffee, it was Momma Bear who unloaded the dishwasher from last night, and put everything away, it was Momma Bear who went out in the cold early morning air to fetch the newspaper, it was Momma Bear who set the damn table, it was Momma Bear who put the friggin cat out, cleaned the litter box, and filled the cat's water and food dish, and, now that you've decided to drag your sorry bear-asses downstairs, and grace Momma Bear's kitchen with your grumpy presence.... listen good, cause I'm only going to say this one more time:
'I HAVEN'T MADE THE FUCKING PORRIDGE YET!!'

I think DB gave us this one a while ago, but it's worth the show again.





Two nuns, Sister Catherine and Sister Helen, are traveling through Europe in their car. They get to Transylvania and are stopped at a traffic light.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a tiny little Dracula jumps onto the hood of the car and hisses through the windshield.

"Quick, quick!" shouts Sister Catherine. "What shall we do?"

"Turn the windshield wipers on. That! will get rid of the abomination," says Sister Helen.

Sister Catherine switches them on, knocking Dracula about, but he clings on and continues hissing at the nuns.

"What shall I do now?" she shouts.

"Switch on the windshield washer. I filled it up with Holy Water at the Vatican ," says Sister Helen.

Sister Catherine turns on the windshield washer. Dracula screams as the water burns his skin, but he clings on and continues hissing at the nuns.

"Now what?" shouts Sister Catherine.

"Show him your cross," says Sister Helen.


"Now you're talking," says Sister Catherine.

She opens the window and shouts, "Get the f-ck off the car!"

:car:

While on a road trip, an elderly couple stopped at a roadside restaurant for lunch. After finishing their meal, they left the restaurant and resumed their trip. When leaving, the elderly woman unknowingly left her glasses on the table and she didn't miss them until they had been driving about twenty minutes By then, to add to the aggravation, they had to travel quite a distance before they could find a place to turn around -- in order to return to the restaurant to retrieve her glasses.

All the way back, the elderly husband became the classic grouchy old man.

He fussed and complained and scolded his wife relentlessly during the entire return drive. The more he chided her -- the more agitated he became. He just wouldn't let up one minute. To her relief, they finally arrived at the restaurant. As the woman got out of the car and hurried inside to retrieve her glasses, the old geezer yelled to her, "While you're in there, you might as well get my hat and the credit card."

That was us a couple of weeks ago.

This one is for everyone who...
a) has kids
b) had kids
c) was a kid
d) knows a kid
e) is going to have kids.

DADDY'S GONNA EAT YOUR FINGERS

I was packing for my business trip and my three year old daughter was having a wonderful time playing on the bed.

At one point she said,” Daddy, look at this", and stuck out two of her fingers.

Trying to keep her entertained, I reached out and stuck her tiny fingers in my mouth and said "Daddy's gonna eat your fingers," pretending to eat them.

I went back to packing, looked up again and my daughter was standing on the bed staring at her fingers with a devastated look on her face.

I said, "What's wrong, honey?"

She replied, "What happened to my booger?" :eew:




:rofl:

This is wrong but funny...

something shared with me by my sister-in-law...

A woman was in town for the Boxing Day sales.

She began her day finding the most perfect shoes in the first shop and
a beautiful dress on sale in the second. In the third everything had
just been reduced to just $5 when her mobile phone rang. It was a
female doctor notifying her that her husband had just been in a
terrible accident and was in critical condition and in the ICU.

The woman told the doctor to tell her husband that she was shopping in
Bourke Street and that she'd be there as soon as possible.

As she hung up she realised she was leaving what was shaping up to be
her best day ever in the shops. She decided to get in a couple more
shops before heading to the hospital. She ended up shopping for the
rest of the morning, finishing her trip with a cup of coffee and a
beautiful complimentary cake at the last shop. She was jubilant. Then
she remembered her husband. Feeling guilty, she dashed to the hospital.
She saw the doctor in the corridor and asked about her husband's
condition.

The lady doctor glared at her and shouted, 'You went ahead and finished
your shopping trip didn't you? I hope you're proud of yourself! While
you were out for the past four hours enjoying yourself in town, your
husband has been languishing in the Intensive Care Unit! It's just as
well you went ahead and finished, because it will be more than likely
the last shopping trip you ever take! For the rest of his life he will
require round the clock care. And you'll now be his carer!'

The woman was feeling so guilty she broke down and sobbed...........



































The lady doctor then chuckled and said, 'I'm just pulling your leg.
He's dead. Let's see what you bought?'

And in the name of religious tolerence, i give you . . . . . .

Oh no they didn't.

That is the ultimate. Either the ultimate in oblivion or the ultimate cynic.
:banghead:

Need they be different?

only as light and dark

(and the option of which to which is yours) :rofl:

BEST "HEADACHE" JOKE EVER!!!!!





A husband emerged from the bathroom naked and was climbing into bed when his wife complained, as usual, "I have a headache."

"Perfect," her husband said." I was just in the bathroom powdering my penis with crushed aspirin.

You can take it orally, or as a suppository, it's up to you."

Officer, why did you stop me?
 

NEVER SAY TO A COP

1. I can't reach my license unless you hold my beer.
2. Sorry, Officer, I didn't realize my radar detector wasn't plugged in.
3.Aren't you the guy from the Village People?
4. Hey, you must've been doin' about 125 mph to keep up with me. Good job!
5. Are You Andy or Barney?
6. I thought you had to be in relatively good physical condition to be a police officer.
7. You're not gonna check the trunk, are you?
8. I pay your salary!
9. Gee, officer! That's terrific. The last officer only gave me a warning, too!
10. Do you know why you pulled me over? Okay, just so one of us does.
11. I was trying to keep up with traffic. Yes, I know there are no other cars around. That's how far ahead of me they are.
12. When the Officer says 'Gee. Your eyes look red, have you been drinking?' You probably shouldn't respond with,'Gee Officer your eyes look glazed, have you been eating doughnuts?'

That'd do it.

Two women were playing golf. One teed off and watched in horror as her
ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole.

The ball hit one of the men.

He immediately clasped his hands together at his groin, fell to the
ground and proceeded to roll around in agony.

The woman rushed down to the man, and immediately began to apologize.
"Please allow me to help. I'm a Physical Therapist and I know I could
relieve your pain if you'd allow me", she told him.

"Oh, no, I'll be all right. I'll be fine in a few minutes," the man
replied. He was in obvious agony, lying in the fetal position, still
clasping his hands together at his groin.

At her persistence, however, he finally allowed her to help. She gently
took his hands away and laid them to the side, loosened his pants and put
her hands inside.

She administered tender and artful massage for several long moments and
asked, "How does that feel"?

He replied: "It feels great, but I still think my thumb's broken!"

Why Americans should not quote for Aussie press.

Joy of Sex gets modern makeover: report
Posted 1 hour 26 minutes ago
Updated 1 hour 30 minutes ago

The Observer newspaper is reporting that The Joy of Sex - the groundbreaking 1972 manual that shook up life in the bedroom around the world - has been given a 21st century makeover.

The New Joy of Sex, due out in September, is conceptualised as a modern take on Dr Alex Comfort's original, bringing in new-fangled lovemaking terms and techniques.

Bodypaint, "love maps" and sexual hotspots worth seeking out are included this time.

The head of marketing and publicity for publishers Mitchell Beazley, Jane Smith, says the book has been completely updated.

"But we wanted to ensure that the book does not lose its roots," she said.
"It is, at core, a family reference book. So this new version still includes all that factual information, but many new subjects have been added."

The updated version contains 120 new drawings and photographs.

Out is the original couple illustrated on the cover, with their distinctive, shaggy 1970s hairstyles.

The Joy of Sex has sold 8 million copies since it first hit the shelves.

- AFP

Subject: Here's the answer to road rage


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 Robyn Carter?'

Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear 'Get the right f***ing number!' and he slammed down the phone. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.

When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.

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 was introduced, 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!' and hung up.

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, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back 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 call the BMW asshole, too. I said, 'Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?'

He said, 'Yes, it is.'
I asked, 'Can you tell me where I can see it?'
He said, 'Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax . It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front.'
I asked, 'What's your name?'
He said, 'My name is Don Hansen.'
I asked, 'When's a good time to catch you, Don?'
He said, 'I'm home every evening after five.'
I said, 'Listen, Don, can I tell you something?'
He said, 'Yes?'
I said, '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.

Then I came up with an idea. I called asshole #1.
He said, 'Hello.'
I said, 'You're an asshole!' (But I didn't hang up.)
He asked, 'Are you still there?'
I said, 'Yeah.'
He screamed, 'Stop calling me.'
I said, 'Make me.'
He asked, 'Who are you?'
I said, 'My name is Don Hansen.'
He said, 'Yeah? Where do you live?'
I said, 'Asshole, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax , a yellow house. I have a 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,' and hung up.
Then I called Asshole #2.
He said, 'Hello?'
I said, 'Hello, asshole.'
He yelled, 'If I ever find out who you are...'
I said, 'You'll what?'
He said, 'I'll kick your ass,'
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 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax , and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd. in Fairfax .

I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax . I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter, and surrounded by a news crew.

NOW I feel much better.

Anger management really does work.

:roflmao:

A guy is walking along the strip in Las Vegas and a knockout looking hooker
catches his eye. He strikes up a conversation and eventually asks the
hooker, 'How much do you charge?' Hooker replies, 'It starts at $500 for a
hand-job.'

Guy says, '$500 dollars?! For a hand-job! No hand-job is worth that kind of money!'

The hooker says, 'Do you see that Denny's on the corner?'

'Yes.'

'Do you see the Denny's about a block further down?'

'Yes.'

'And beyond that, do you see that third Denny's?'

'Yes.'

'Well,' says the hooker, smiling invitingly, 'I own those. And, I own them
because I give a hand-job that's worth $500.'

Guy says, 'What the hell? You only live once. I'll give it a try.'

They retire to a nearby motel. A short time later, the guy is sitting on
the bed realizing that he just experienced the hand-job of a lifetime, worth
every bit of $500. He is so amazed, he says, 'I suppose a blow-job is $1,000?'

The hooker replies, '$1,500.'

'I wouldn't pay that for a blow-job!'

The hooker replies, 'Step over here to the window, big boy. Do you see
that casino just across the street? I own that casino outright.. And I own
it because I give a blow-job that's worth every cent of $1,500.'

The guy, basking in the afterglow of that terrific h and-job, decides to
put off the new car for another year or so, and says, 'Sign me up.'

Ten minutes later, he is sitting on the bed more amazed than before. He can
scarcely believe it but he feels he truly got his money's worth. He decides
to dip into the retirement savings for one glorious and unforgettable
experience. He asks the hooker,'How much for some pussy?'

The hooker says, 'Come over here to the window, I want to show you
something. Do you see how the whole city of Las Vegas is laid out before
us, all those beautiful lights, gambling palaces, and showplaces?'

'Damn!' the guy says, in awe, 'You own the whole city?'

'No,' the hooker replies, 'but I would if I had a pussy.'

THESE ARE ENTRIES TO A WASHINGTON POST COMPETITION
ASKING FOR A TWO-LINE RHYME WITH THE MOST ROMANTIC FIRST LINE,
BUT THE LEAST ROMANTIC SECOND LINE:


My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife:
Marrying you has screwed up my life.

I see your face when I am dreaming.
That's why I always wake up screaming.

Kind, intelligent, loving and hot;
This describes everything you are not.

Love may be beautiful, love may be bliss,
But I only slept with you 'cause I was pissed.

I thought that I could love no other
-- that is until I met your brother.

Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you.
But the roses are wilting, the violets are dead,the sugar bowl's empty and so is your head.

I want to feel your sweet embrace;
But don't take that paper bag off your face.

I love your smile, your face, and your eyes
Damn, I'm good at telling lies!

My love, you take my breath away.
What have you stepped in to smell this way?

My feelings for you no words can tell,
Except for maybe "Go to hell."

What inspired this amorous rhyme?
Two parts vodka, one part lime.

Subject: FW: The talking clock


Proudly showing off her newly-leased downtown apartment to a couple of friends late one night, a drunk female yuppie led the
way to her bedroom where there was a big brass gong hanging on the wall.

"What's that big brass gong for ?" one of the friend's asked.

"Issss nod a gong. Issss a talking clock" she drunkenly replied.

"A talking clock - seriously ?"

"Yup." "Hmmm (hic)."

"How's it work ?" the second friend asked, squinting at it.

"Just watch" she said.

She picked up a hammer, gave the gong an 'ear-shattering bash' and stepped back.


Her three mates stood looking at one another for a moment in astounded silence.

Suddenly, a voice from the other side of the wall screamed....

"For f*#k's sake, you stupid bitch... It's ten past three in the f*#king morning !!!

An elderly Italian man who lived on the outskirts of Montecassino went to
the local church for confession.
When the priest slid open the panel in the confessional, the man said,
"Father ... during World War II, a beautiful Jewish woman from our
neighborhood knocked urgently on my door and asked me to hide her from
the Nazis. So I hid her in my attic."
The priest replied, "That was a wonderful thing you did, my son! And you
have no need to confess that."
"There is more to tell, Father. She started to repay me with sexual
favors. This happened several times a week, and sometimes twice on
Sundays."
The priest said, "By doing that, you placed yourselves in great danger.
However, two people under those circumstances can easily succumb to the
weakness of the flesh. However, if you are truly sorry for your
actions, you are indeed forgiven."
"Thank you, Father. That's a great load off my mind. But I do have one more
question."
"And what is that, my son?" asked the priest.
"Should I tell her the war is over?"

That's so wrong...

And so straight out of a classic movie

Thought it rang a bell.

A thief in Paris planned to steal some paintings from the Louvre.

After careful planning, he got past security, stole the paintings and made it safely to his van.

However, he was captured only two blocks away when his van ran out of gas.

When asked how he could mastermind such a crime and then make such an obvious error,
"Monsier, that is the reason I stole the paintings...

I had no Monet
to buy Degas
to make the Van Gogh


See if you have De Gaulle to send this on to someone else


I sent it to you because I figured I had nothing Toulouse!

Daddy, make the bad man stop...

:banghead:

You have't suffered enough yet.

You've only five months to work out the reply.

A Senior Driver by GRANDMA


The other day I went up to a local Christian bookstore and saw a "Honk if
you love Jesus" bumper sticker.

I was feeling particularly sassy that day, because I had just come from a
thrilling choir practice followed by
a powerful prayer meeting, so I bought the sticker and put it on my bumper.


I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection just lost in thought
about the Lord and how good He is,
and I didn't notice that the light had changed.

It is a good thing someone else loves Jesus; because if he hadn't honked,
I'd never have noticed.

I found that LOTS of people love Jesus. Why, while I was sitting there, the
nice man behind started
honking like crazy, and he leaned out of his window and screamed, "for the
love of God, GO! GO!"
What an exuberant cheerleader he was for the Lord.

Everyone started honking! I just leaned out of my window and started waving
and smiling at all these
loving people. I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love. There
must have been a man
from Florida back there, because I heard him yelling something about a sunny
beach. I saw another
man waving in a funny way with only his middle finger stuck up in the air.
When I asked my teenage
grandson in the back seat what that meant, he said that it was an Hawaiian
good luck sign or something.

Well, I've never met anyone from Hawaii , so I leaned out the window and
gave him the good luck sign back.

My grandson burst out laughing; why even he was enjoying this religious
experience.
A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they
got out of their cars and
started walking towards me.

I bet they wanted to pray or ask what church I attended, but this is when I
noticed the light had changed.
So I waved to all my sisters and brothers, smiled at them all, and drove on
through the intersection.

I noticed I was the only car that got through the intersection before the
light changed again, and I felt kind
of sad that I had to leave them after all the love we had shared, so I
slowed the car down, leaned out of the
window, and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I
drove away.

Praise the Lord for such wonderful folks!

A Valentine's Card
 

Little Mel issa comes home from first grade and tells her father that they learned about the history of Valentine's Day. "Since Valentine's Day is for a Chris tian saint and we're Jewish," she asks, "Will God get mad at me for giving someone a valentine?"

Mel issa's father thinks a bit, then says "No, I don't think God would get mad. Who do you want to give a Valentine to?"

"Osama Bin Laden," she says.

"Why Osama Bin Laden," her father asks in shock.

"Well," she says, "I thought that if a little American Jewish girl could have enough love to give Osama a Valentine, he might start to think that maybe we're not all bad, and maybe start loving people a little bit. And if other kids saw what I did and sent Valentines to Osama, he'd love everyone a lot. And then he'd start going all over the place to tell everyone how much he loved them and how he didn't hate anyone anymore."

Her father's heart swells and he looks at his daughter with new found pride. " Mel issa, that's the most wonderful thing I've ever heard."

"I know," Mel issa says, "and once that gets him out in the open, the Marines could shoot the bastard."

:yikes:

Shit may just be the most functional word in the English language.

You can smoke shit, buy shit, sell shit, lose shit, find shit, forget shit, and tell others to eat shit.

Some people know their shit, while others can't tell the difference between shit and shineola.

There are lucky shits, dumb shits, and crazy shits. There is bull shit, horse shit, and chicken shit.

You can throw shit, sling shit, catch shit, shoot the shit, or duck when the shit hits the fan.

You can give a shit or serve shit on a shingle.

You can find yourself in deep shit or be happier than a pig in shit.

Some days are colder than shit, some days are hotter than shit, and some days are just plain shitty.

Some music sounds like shit, things can look like shit, and there are times when you feel like shit.

You can have too much shit, not enough shit, the right shit, the wrong shit or a lot of weird shit.

You can carry shit, have a mountain of shit, or find yourself up shit creek without a paddle.

Sometimes everything you touch turns to shit and other times you fall in a bucket of shit and come out smelling like a rose.

When you stop to consider all the facts, it's the basic building block of the English language.

And remember, once you know your shit, you don't need to know anything else!!

You could pass this along, if you give a shit; or not do so if you don't give a shit!


Well, Shit, it's time for me to go. Just wanted you to know that I do give a shit and hope you had a nice day, without a bunch of shit. But, if you happened to catch a load of shit from some shit-head...........

Well, Shit Happens!!!

And thats the shit, the whole shit and nothing but the shit.

& remember, "shoot" is just "shit" with 2 "o"s...

George W was sitting on the oval office when an aide rushed in with a flash message It said that three Brazilian soldiers had been killed in Iraq.

GW went pale and his hands began to tremble, a tear coursed down his cheek and he clutched the Bible from his top drawer.

He looked up at the aide and said," Dont hold back son, please tell me.


V V V V

V V V

V V

V
































How many is a Brazilian?"

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 God'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 . . . masturbate. 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

An 86-year-old man went to his doctor for his quarterly check-up...
The doctor asked him how he was feeling , and the 86-year-old said ,
Things are great and I've never felt better.
I now have a 20 year-old bride who is pregnant with my child.
'So what do you think about that Doc ?'
The doctor considered his question for a minute and
then began to tell a story.

'I have an older friend , much like you , who is an avid hunter
and never misses a season.
One day he was setting off to go hunting.
In a bit of a hurry , he accidentally picked up his walking cane instead of his gun.'
'As he neared a lake , he came across a very large male beaver sitting at the water's edge.
He realized he'd left his gun at home and so he couldn't shoot the magnificent creature.
Out of habit he raised his cane , aimed it at the animal as if it were his favorite hunting rifle and went 'bang , bang'.'
'Miraculously , two shots rang out and the beaver fell over dead.
Now, what do you think of that ?' asked the doctor.
The 86-year-old said ,
'Logic would strongly suggest that somebody else pumped a couple of rounds into that beaver.'
The doctor replied , 'My point exactly !!!

Bear in a Bar

A bear walks into a bar in Billings , Montana . He bangs on the bar with his paw and demands a beer.

The bartender approaches and says, "We don't serve beer to bears in bars in Billings ."

The bear, becoming angry, demands again that he be served a beer.

The bartender tells him again, more forcefully, "We don't serve beer to belligerent bears in bars in Billings ."

The bear, very angry now, says, "If you don't serve me a beer, I'm going to eat that lady sitting at the end of the bar."

The bartender says, "Sorry, we don't serve beer to belligerent, bully bears in bars in Billings ."


The bear goes to the end of the bar and, as promised, eats the woman. He comes back to his seat and again demands a beer.


The bartender states, "Sorry, we don't serve beer to belligerent, bully bears in bars in Billings who are on drugs."


The bear says, "I'm NOT on drugs."

..........You're gonna love this........




The bartender says, "You are now. That was a barbitchyouate."

SHAME ON YOU :banghead:






















:roflmao: