Author: admin

Calling In Sick To Work

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Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I�m lying. On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hope I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up something to explain the bandage on the top of my head.
The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife�s wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition was not problem. Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.
�Honey, the garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it.�

�You know where the button is,� I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam.
�Reset it yourself!�

�But I�m scared!� she persisted. �What if it starts going and sucks me in?�

There was a meaningful pause and then, �C�mon, it�ll only take you a second.�
So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as extremely cowardly.
Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button.

It is the last action I remember performing.

It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances.

No, it wasn�t the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth.
It was our new kitty, which discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs.

She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movement, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from �Harry and the Twins�

Wild animals are sometimes faced with a fight or flight syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the �flight� option. I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impede my ascent. The impact knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor buck naked in front of a group of �been-here, done-that� paramedics. Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter� and not succeeding.

Somehow I lived through it all.

A few days later I finally made it back into the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about � which it was.

�What�s the matter?� They all asked, �Cat got your tongue?�

Close, but not exactly.

Twas the Night Before…

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‘Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat. The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat.

The doors were all bolted, the phone off the hook, It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.

Momma in her teddy and I in the nude, Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube.

When out on the lawn there arose such a cry, That I lost my boner, and momma went dry.

Up to the window I sprang like an elf, Tore back the shade while she played with herself.

The moon on the crest of the snowman we’d built, Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.

With a fat little driver, half out of the sled, A sock in his ear and a bra on his head.

Sure as I’m speaking, he was high as a kite, And he yelled to his team, but it didn’t sound right.

Whoa S**thead, whoa A**hole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz, Either slow down this rig or I’ll cut off your nuts.

Look out for the lamp post, and don’t hit the tree, Quit shaking the sleigh, ’cause I gotta go pee.

They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub, Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard such a clatter, As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.

I was donning my jockeys, to cover my ass, When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.

His suit was all smelly with perfume galore, He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore.

“That was some brothel,” he said with a smile, “The reindeer are pooped, and I’ll just stay awhile”

He walked to the kitchen for himself poured a drink, Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.

I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee, The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack, But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.

The first thing he found was a pair of false tits, The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.

A box filled with condoms was Santa’s next find, And six pair of panties, the edible kind.

A bra without nipples, a penis extension, And several more things I shouldn’t even mention.

A f**k ring, a G-string, and all types of oil, And a dildo so long that it lay in a coil. “This stuff ain’t for kids, Mrs. Santa will s**t, Do I’ll leave ’em here, and then I’ll just split.”

He filled every stocking and then took his leave, With one tiny butt plug stuck under his sleeve.

He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead, Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.

In time he was seated, took reigns of his hitch, Saying, “Take me home, Rudolf. This night’s been a bitch!”

The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout, “The best thing about pussy is you can’t wear it out!!”

Definition of a good date!

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These three women were roommates. One night they all had all gone out on dates and all came home at about the same time.

The first one said, “You know you’ve been on a good date when you come home with your hair all messed up.”

The second one said, “No, you know you’ve been on a good date when you come home with your makeup all smeared.”

The third one said nothing, but reached under her skirt, removed her panties and threw them against the wall, where they stuck.
She said, “Now THAT’S a good date!!”