Flags

A Irishman went into a flag shop and asked for a green unionjack.

The guy behind the counter said, “A green unionjack what? We
don’t do green unionjacks you fool.”

The Irishman asked, “What colours do you do them in them?”

“Red white and blue, like everywhere else.” Replies the salesman.

The Irishman says, “I’ll have a blue one then.”

It was the stockbroker’s first…

It was the stockbroker’s first day in prison and on meeting his psychotic-looking cell mate he became even more nervous than ever.
”Don’t worry, mate,” said the prisoner when he noticed how scared the stockbroker looked. ”I’m in for a white- collar crime, too,”
”Oh, really?” said the stockbroker with a sigh of relief.
”Yeah,” said the prisoner. ”I murdered a priest.”

Attack of the American Women

One day Saddam Hussein was walking in the desert and he stubbed his toe on
some hard object. He bent over to pick it up and a Genie popped out.
“Oh great,” Saddam said, “I don’t have time for this Genie nonsense.”

“Oh wait,” said the Genie, “You have to let me grant you three wishes or I’ll
be trapped in that stupid lamp for another ten thousand years.”

“Ok” said Saddam, so he wished that the Genie would give him three American
women.

So the next morning when he woke up, after the Genie had realized who this man
was and after the Genie had granted the wishes, Tanya Harding, Garcella Bevoux,
and Hillary Clinton layed next to him. His knee was bashed in, his penis was
gone, and he had no health insurance.

New Mink Coat

Three members of a weekly female bridge quartet were duly impressed when the fourth arrived wearing a gorgeous new mink coat.”That’s a lovely garment Dottie,” purred one woman “It must have cost you a fortune!” “But it didn’t,” said Dottie, “just a single piece of ass.” “You mean,” continued the admirer of the coat, “One that you gave your husband?” “No,” smiled the coat wearer, “One that he got from the maid.”

Clinton Sex Scandal Limerick

There was once a great man in power

Who’d had an intern for him clean his tower

Well he’d made quite a mess

It put stains on her dress

Well we hope she at least took a shower

Several months went by she was still sucking

And the system the man was still bucking

She got attached to him

To him ’twas a whim

After all, it’s not like they had been fucking

The girl had been calling a friend

Who was not quite a friend in the end

She recorded the speech

For a publisher leech

And to Kenneth a copy she’d send

Mr. Starr was having quite a hassle

For he’d come off as Mr. Asshole

Three long years he’d been fishing

For clues he was still wishing

Seems the Prez was locked tight in a castle

Then one day in the season of winter

The castle door had started to splinter

Seems a man, name was Drudge

Had discovered some sludge

The news raced round the world like a sprinter

Seven months and the man still denied it

Had a press conference where he implied it

Had his own definition

A brilliant logician

He did not quite have sex, but he’d tried it

Well the nation was shocked and appalled

For his head the Republicans called

But for all we’d scream and shout

We didn’t want him out

It was sex in which we were enthralled

Judge Starr’s stuff came out one early morn

Looked less like law and more like cheap porn

Congress had been awaiting

Now they were masturbating

Visualizing her blowing his horn

So know you know all about the scandal

We hope that of it you’ve gotten a handle

We tune in every day

Wasting our lives away

To this fiction can’t quite hold a candle

English Humor

A young blonde female stock broker was bored with driving her
BMW. It lacked individuality and besides that, every other girl
in the office had one. She fancied something a bit more
individual, perhaps an MG convertible.

That week she visited her local car dealer and spied a beautiful
Jaguar XK140 convertible. It was wonderfully restored and she
fell in love with it’s gorgeous red paintwork. An empty check
stub later and off she was tearing down the leafy country lanes
enjoying her beautiful new car. Her long blonde hair was flowing
in the wind, music blaring from the radio, what could possibly
go wrong?

At that thought there was a splutter from the engine and the car
slowly coasted to a stop. She got out and lifted the hood and
concluded after a few minutes that she didn’t have a bloody clue
what was wrong. Luckily she had her mobile phone with her and a
quick phone call to the AutoClub and a short wait saw a bright
shiny yellow van pull up behind her.

“That’s a lovely car,” said the mechanic. “What seems to be the
matter?”

“Well, it just conked out I’m afraid.”

“Let me have look.” He set to work and ten minutes later the
engine was purring like a cat again.

“Thank goodness,” she said. “What was the matter?”

“Simple really, just crap in the carburetor,” he replied.

Looking shocked she asked, “Oh, okay. How many times a week do I
have to do that?”