Author: admin

One day a child and his father are on a bike ride down a country lane until the man falls off, and shouts BASTARD as he wimpers in pain and the child asks “Daddy what does bastard mean”. The man still wimpering in pain looks around and searches for something and he sees a police car in the distance and says to his son, “Bastard means police man son”. Later on when they get home, the man is watching a football match and has just lost a bet on it and shouts “My arse” due to an offside and the child asks his dad, “What does my arse mean dad?” so the man puzzled again looks around and looks at the door and sees the doormat, and says “Doormat son, doormat” later that night, the man is shaving and cuts himself and screams “SHIT!” and the little boy asks what shit means. His father still holding his face feels the shaving cream and says “Shaving cream son, shaving cream,” The little boy walks downstairs and his mum has just burnt the chicken. She screams “FUCK!” The little boy asks what fuck means. “Erm…chicken son, chicken,” A couple of seconds later a police man knocks at the door so the little boy says “Hi bastard, wipe your feet on my arse, my dads busy wiping shit off his face and my mums just fucked the chicken!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Did you hear about how the [ethnic] hockey team drowned?

Spring Training.

From a contest in which Baby Boomers were asked to tell Gen Xers how much harder it was in the old days:

In my day, we didn’t have mouses to move the cursor around. We only had the arrows, and if the up arrow was broken and you needed to get to the top of the screen, well, you just hit the left arrow a thousand times, dadgummit. (Kevin Cuddihy, Fairfax)

In my day, we couldn’t afford shoes, so we went barefoot. In the winter we had to wrap our feet with barbed wire for traction. (Bill Flavin, Alexandria)

In my day, we didn’t have hand held calculators. We had to do addition on our fingers. To subtract, we had to have some fingers amputated. (Jon Patrick Smith, Washington)

In my day, we didn’t have fancy high numbers. We had “nothing,” “one,” “twain” and “multitudes.” (Elden Carnahan, Laurel)

In my day, we didn’t get that disembodied, slightly ticked-off voice saying ‘Doors closing.’ We got on the train, the doors closed, and if your hand was sticking out it scraped along the tunnel all the way to the next station and it was a bloody stump at the end. (Russell Beland, Springfield)

In my day, we didn’t have virtual reality. If a one-eyed razorback barbarian warrior was chasing you with an ax, you just had to hope you could outrun him. (Sarah M. Wolford, Hanover)

Back in the 1970s we didn’t have the space shuttle to get all excited about. We had to settle for men walking on the crummy moon. (Russell Beland, Springfield)

In my day, we didn’t have days. There was only “time for work,” “time for pray” and “time for sleep.” The sheriff would go around and tell everyone when to change. (Elden Carnahan, Laurel)

In my day, people could only dream of hitchhiking a ride on a comet. (David Ronka, Charlottesville)

In my day, we didn’t have fancy healthfood restaurants. Every day we ate lots of easily recognizable animal parts, along with potatoes drenched in melted fat from those animals. And we’re all as strong as AAGGKK-GAAK Urrgh. Thud. (Tom Witte, Gaithersburg)

In my day, we didn’t have water. We had to smash together our own hydrogen and oxygen atoms. (Diana Hugue, Bowie)

Kids today think the world revolves around them. In my day, the sun revolved around the world, and the world was perched on the back of a giant tortoise. (Jonathan Paul, Garrett Park)

In the old days, nobody asked you to sign petitions. The sheriff just came to your house and told you “you was part of a posse.” (Barry Blyveis, Columbia)

In my day, we didn’t have dogs or cats. All I had was Silver Beauty, my beloved paper clip. (Jennifer Hart, Arlington)

Back in my day, “60 Minutes” wasn’t just a bunch of gray-haired liberal 80 year old guys. It was a bunch of gray-haired liberal 60-year-old guys. (Russell Beland, Springfield, and Jerry Pannullo, Kensington)

In my day, we didn’t have Strom Thurmond. Oh, wait. Yes we did … (Peg Sheeran, Vienna)

Three turtles, Joe, Steve, and Poncho, decide to go on a picnic.
So, Joe packs the picnic basket with cookies, bottled sodas, and
sandwiches. The trouble is, the picnic site is, 10 miles away,
so the turtles take 10 whole days to get there.

By the time they do arrive, everyone’s whipped. Joe takes the
stuff out of the basket, one by one. He takes out the sodas and
says, ‘Alright, Steve, gimme the bottle opener

“I didn’t bring the bottle opener,” Steve says. “I thought you
packed it.” Joe gets worried. He turns to Poncho. “Poncho, do
you have the bottle opener?”

Naturally, Poncho doesn’t have it, so the turtles are stuck ten
miles away from home without soda.

Joe & Steve beg Poncho to turn back home and retrieve it, but
Poncho flatly refuses, knowing that they’ll eat everything by
the time he gets back.

Somehow, after about two hours, the turtles manage to convince
Poncho to go, swearing on their great-grand turtles’ graves that
they won’t touch the food.

So, Poncho sets off down the road, slow and steadily. Twenty
days pass, but no Poncho. Joe and Steve are hungry and puzzled,
but a promise is a promise. Another day passes, and still no
Poncho, but a promise is a promise.

After three more days pass without Poncho in sight, Steve starts
getting restless.”I NEED FOOD!” he says with a hint of dementia
in his voice.

“NO!” Joe retorts. “We promised.” Five more days pass. Joe
realizes that Poncho probably skipped out to the Burger King
down the road, so the two turtles weakly lift the lid ,get a
sandwich, and open their mouths to eat. But then, right at that
instant, Poncho pops out behind a rock, and says, “Just for
that, I’m not going.”