Category: gender

Q)What do you call a woman with 2 brain cells?

A)Pregnent

If men had PMS, what would happen?

a) The federal government would allocate funds to study it.

b) Cramps would become an acceptable reason to apply for permanent disability.

c) There would be a federal holiday every 28 days.

d) All of the above.

Submitted by Curtis
Edited by Yisman

At one point during a game, the coach said to one of his young players, “Do you understand what cooperation is? What a team is?”

The little boy nodded in the affirmative.

“Do you understand that what matters is whether we win together as a team?”

The little boy nodded yes.

“So,” the coach continued, “when a strike is called, or you’re out at first, you don’t argue or curse or attack the umpire. Do you understand all that?”

Again the little boy nodded.

“Good,” said the coach, “now go over there and explain it to your mother.”

Let’s say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.

And then, one evening when they’re driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: ”Do you realize that, as of tonight, we’ve been seeing each other for exactly six months?”

And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Gee, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he’s been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I’m trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn’t want, or isn’t sure of.

And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.

And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I’m not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I’d have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward . . . I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?

And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let’s see. .. February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer’s, which means . . . lemme check the odometer . . . Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.

And Elaine is thinking: He’s upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I’m reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed — even before I sensed it — that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that’s it. That’s why he’s so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He’s afraid of being rejected.

And Roger is thinking: And I’m gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don’t care what those morons say, it’s still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It’s 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.

And Elaine is thinking: He’s angry. And I don’t blame him. I’d be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can’t help the way I feel. I’m just not sure.

And Roger is thinking: They’ll probably say it’s only a 90-day warranty. That’s exactly what they’re gonna say, the rats.

And Elaine is thinking: maybe I’m just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I’m sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.

And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I’ll give them a warranty. I’ll take their warranty and stick it right up their …

”Roger,” Elaine says aloud.

”What?” says Roger, startled.

”Please don’t torture yourself like this,” she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. ”Maybe I should never have . . . I feel so . . .” (She breaks down, sobbing.)

”What? ‘ says Roger.

”I’m such a fool,” Elaine sobs. ”I mean, I know there’s no knight. I really know that. It’s silly. There’s no knight, and there’s no horse.”

”There’s no horse?” says Roger.

”You think I’m a fool, don’t you?” Elaine says.

”No!” says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.

”It’s just that . . . It’s that I . . . I need some time,” Elaine says. (There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)

”Yes,” he says. (Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)

”Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?” she says.

”What way?” says Roger.

”That way about time,” says Elaine.

”Oh,” says Roger.

”Yes.” (Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)

”Thank you, Roger,” she says.

”Thank you,” says Roger.

Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechs he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it’s better if he doesn’t think about it. (This is also Roger’s policy regarding world hunger.)

The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.

Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine’s, will pause just before serving, frown, and say: ”Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?”

A teenage girl had been talking on the phone for about half an hour, and then she hung up.

“Wow!,” said her father, “That was short. You usually talk for two hours. What happened?”

“Wrong number,” replied the girl.

One of the women in the ski group complained to her husband that she was in dire need of a restroom.

He told her not to worry, that he was sure there was relief waiting at the top of the lift in the form of a powder room for female skiers in distress.

He was wrong, of course, and the pain did not go away.

If you’ve ever had nature hit its panic button in you, then you know that a temperature of 12 below zero doesn’t help matters. So, with time running out, the woman weighed her options.

Her husband, picking up on the intensity of her pain, suggested that since she was wearing an all white ski outfit, she should go off in the woods.

No one would even notice, he assured her. The white will provide more than adequate camouflage. So she headed for the tree line, began disrobing and proceeded to do her thing.

If you’ve ever parked on the side of a slope, then you know there is a right way and a wrong way to set your skis so you don’t move. Yup, you got it. She had them positioned the wrong way.

Steep slopes are not forgiving, even during embarrassing moments. Without warning, the woman found herself skiing backward, out of control, racing through the trees, somehow missing all of them and into another slope.

Her derriere and her reverse side were still bare, her pants down around her knees, and she was picking up speed all the while.

She continued on backwards, totally out of control, creating an unusual vista for the other skiers.

The woman skied, if you define that verb loosely, back under the lift, and finally collided violently with a pylon. The bad news was that she broke her arm and was unable to pull up her ski pants.

At long last her husband arrived, putting an end to her nudie show, then went to the base of the mountain and summoned the ski patrol, who transported her to a hospital.

In the emergency room she was regrouping when a man with an obviously broken leg was put in the bed next to hers.

“So how’d you break your leg?” she asked, making small talk.

It was the damdest thing you ever saw, he said, I was riding up this ski lift, and suddenly I couldn’t believe my eyes.

There was this crazy woman skiing backward out of control down the mountain with her bare bottom hanging out of her clothes and her pants down around her knees.

I leaned over to get a better look and I guess I didn’t realize how far I’d moved. I fell out of the lift.”

“So how’d you break your arm?”

A few days before his proctological exam, a one eyed man accidentally swallowed his glass eye. He was worried for a while, but there were no ill effects, so he forgot about it.

Once he was in the doctor’s office, the man followed instructions, undressed, and bent over.

The first thing the proctologist saw when he looked up the man’s arse was that eye staring right back at him.

“You know, ” said the doctor, “you really have to learn to trust me.”

If men had PMS, what would happen?

a) The federal government would allocate funds to study it.
b) Cramps would become an acceptable reason to apply for permanent
disability.
c) There would be a federal holiday every 28 days.
d) All of the above.

If you think a guy’s life is bad compare it to an egg.

You only get laid once.
You only get eaten once.
It takes 4 minutes to get hard.
It takes 2 minutes to get soft.
You have to share a box with eleven other guys.
And the only chick to sit on your face is your mother.

Have you heard about the new orgasm pill just approved by the FDA for women?

It comes with a 16 inch applicator.

Submitted by Curtis
Edited by Glaci

What is a more macho man?

At the critical moment when he can’t get it up, he asks the woman, ‘Does this happen to you often?’

MAN: God, my girlfriend is so pretty and has such pretty hair.
GOD: I know, I made her that way so you would love her.

MAN: God, she has such beautiful blue eyes.
GOD: I know I made them for her so you would love her.

MAN: There is only one thing wrong with her. She is a little dense.
GOD: I know..I made her that way so she could love YOU!