Category: other

The first Irish National Steeplechase was finally abandoned. Not one horse
could get a decent footing on the cathedral roof.

Q. Why don’t polish women use vibrators?

A. It chips their teeth.

Q: Why should you never ask one Baptist over to watch football with you, but
instead always invite two?

A: Invite one; he’ll drink all your beer.

Invite two and neither of them will drink a drop!

Do you remember Lorena Bobbitt?

She was in a bloody car accident yesterday!

Some ‘dick’ cut her off!

Submitted by Curtis
Editted by Calamjo

A drunk that smelled like a brewery got on a bus one day. He sat down next to a priest. The drunk’s shirt was stained, his face was full of bright red lipstick and he had a half-empty bottle of wine sticking out of his pocket. He opened his newspaper and started reading. A couple minutes later, he asked the priest, “Father, what causes arthritis?””Mister, it’s caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol, and contempt for your fellow man,” the priest replied.”Imagine that,” the drunk muttered. He returned to reading his paper.The priest, thinking about what he had said, turned to the man and apologized: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come on so strong. How long have you had arthritis?””I don’t have arthritis, Father,” the drunk said, “but I just read in the paper that the Pope does!”

My friend is a rather old-fashioned lady, always quite delicate
and elegant, especially in her language. She and her husband
were planning a week’s vacation in Florida, so she wrote to a
particular campground and asked for a reservation.

She wanted to make sure the campground was fully equipped, but
didn’t quite know how to ask about the toilet facilities. She
just couldn’t bring herself to write the word “toilet” in her
letter. After much deliberation she finally came up with the
old-fashioned term “bathroom commode.” But when she wrote that
down, she still felt that she was being too forward. So she
started all over again, rewrote the entire letter, and referred
to the bathroom commode merely as the B.C. “Does the campground
have its own B.C.?” is what she finally wrote.

Well, the campground owner wasn’t old-fashioned at all, and when
he got the letter he just couldn’t figure out what the woman was
talking about. That B.C. business really stumped him. After
worrying about it for a while, he showed the letter to several
campers, but no one could imagine what the lady meant, either.
So the campground owner, finally coming to the conclusion that
the lady must be asking about the location of the Baptist
Church, sat down and wrote the following reply:

Dear Madam: I regret very much the delay in answering your
letter, but I now take the pleasure of informing you that a B.C.
is located nine miles north of the campground, and is capable of
seating 250 people at one time. I admit it is quite a distance
away if you are in the habit of going regularly, but no doubt
you will be pleased to learn that a great number of our people
take their lunches along and make a day of it. They usually
arrive early and stay late. If you don’t start early, you
probably will not make it in time. The last time my wife and I
went was six years ago, and it was so crowded we had to stand up
the whole time we were there. It may interest you to know that
right now, there is a supper planned to raise money to buy more
seats. They’re going to hold it in the basement of the B.C. I
would like to say it pains me very much not being able to go
more often, but it surely is no lack of desire on my part. As we
grow older, it seems to be more of an effort, particularly in
cold weather. If you decide to come down to our campground,
perhaps I could go with you the first time you go, sit with you,
and introduce you to all the other folks. Remember, this is a
friendly community!!

Dos amigos se encuentran en la calle. Uno de los dos lleva un perro. El otro le dice:

“Caramba, qu� perro m�s bonito, �a d�nde vas?”

“Lo llevo al veteriario.”

“�Ah! �es que est� enfermo?”

“No, que va, es que se ha vuelto maric�n, y esta noche me ha cogido por detr�s y me ha dado por el culo.”

“Vaya qu� l�stima, tener que matarlo.”

“Qu� dices t�o, si lo llevo al veterinario para que le corte las u�as, que me ha dejado la espalda hecha un desastre.”

there was a girl who had the most sexy dick and tits there was a guy who had the most sexy dick and they got married naked showing there big stuff and there babys had big stuff 2

Yo’ mama so old, I slapped her on the back and her tits fell off!

A little girl spoke to her teacher about whales.

The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human
because even though it is a very large mammal, its throat is very small.

The little girl said, “But how can that be? Jonah was swallowed by a whale.”

Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human. “It
is physically impossible!” she said.

Undaunted, the little girl said, “Well, when I get to heaven I will ask
Jonah.”

To this, the teacher said, “What if Jonah went to hell?”

The little girl replied, “Then YOU ask him!”

If jonny cracks corn and no one cares why is there a song about him?

These epitaphs, taken from actual tombstones.

On the grave of Ezekial Aikle in East Dalhousie Cemetery, Nova Scotia: Here lies Ezekial Aikle Age 102 The Good Die Young.

In a London, England cemetery: Ann Mann Here lies Ann Mann, Who lived an old maid But died an old Mann. Dec. 8, 1767

In a Ribbesford, England, cemetery: Anna Wallace The children of Israel wanted bread And the Lord sent them manna, Old clerk Wallace wanted a wife, And the Devil sent him Anna.

Playing with names in a Ruidoso, New Mexico, cemetery: Here lies Johnny Yeast Pardon me For not rising.

Memory of an accident in a Uniontown, Pennsylvania cemetery: Here lies the body of Jonathan Blake Stepped on the gas Instead of the brake.

In a Silver City, Nevada, cemetery: Here lays Butch, We planted him raw. He was quick on the trigger, But slow on the draw.

A widow wrote this epitaph in a Vermont cemetery: Sacred to the memory of my husband John Barnes who died January 3, 1803 His comely young widow, aged 23, has many qualifications of a good wife, and yearns to be comforted.

A lawyer’s epitaph in England: Sir John Strange Here lies an honest lawyer, And that is Strange.

Someone determined to be anonymous in Stowe, Vermont: I was somebody. Who, is no business Of yours.

Lester Moore was a Wells, Fargo Co. station agent for Naco, Arizona in the cowboy days of the 1880’s. He’s buried in the Boot Hill Cemetery in Tombstone, Arizona: Here lies Lester Moore Four slugs from a .44 No Les No More.

In a Georgia cemetery: “I told you I was sick!”

John Penny’s epitaph in the Wimborne, England, cemetery: Reader if cash thou art In want of any Dig 4 feet deep And thou wilt find a Penny.

On Margaret Daniels grave at Hollywood Cemetery Richmond, Virginia: She always said her feet were killing her but nobody believed her.

In a cemetery in Hartscombe, England: On the 22nd of June – Jonathan Fiddle – Went out of tune.

Anna Hopewell’s grave in Enosburg Falls, Vermont has an epitaph that sounds like something from a Three Stooges movie: Here lies the body of our Anna Done to death by a banana It wasn’t the fruit that laid her low But the skin of the thing that made her go.

More fun with names with Owen Moore in Battersea, London, England: Gone away Owin’ more Than he could pay.

Someone in Winslow, Maine didn’t like Mr. Wood: In Memory of Beza Wood Departed this life Nov. 2, 1837 Aged 45 yrs. Here lies one Wood Enclosed in wood One Wood Within another. The outer wood Is very good: We cannot praise The other.

On a grave from the 1880’s in Nantucket, Massachusetts: Under the sod and under the trees Lies the body of Jonathan Pease. He is not here, there’s only the pod: Pease shelled out and went to God.

The grave of Ellen Shannon in Girard, Pennsylvania is almost a consumer tip: Who was fatally burned March 21, 1870 by the explosion of a lamp filled with “R.E. Danforth’s Non-Explosive Burning Fluid” Oops!

Harry Edsel Smith of Albany, New York: Born 1903–Died 1942 Looked up the elevator shaft to see if the car was on the way down. It was.

In a Thurmont, Maryland, cemetery: Here lies an Atheist All dressed up And no place to go.