Due to the current financial situation caused by the slowdown of the economy, your Government has decided to implement a scheme to put workers 50 years of age and older on early retirement. This scheme will be known as RAPE (Retire Aged People Early).
Persons selected to be RAPED can apply to the government to be eligible for the SHAFT scheme (Special Help After Forced Termination).
Persons who have been RAPED and SHAFTED will be reviewed under the SCREW program (Scheme Covering Retired Early Workers). A person may be RAPED once, SHAFTED twice and SCREWED as many times as the government deems appropriate.
...
Only persons who have been RAPED can get AIDS (Additional Income for Dependants & Spouse) or HERPES (Half Earnings for Retired Personnel Early Severance). Obviously, persons who have AIDS or HERPES will not be SHAFTED or SCREWED any further by the government.
Persons who are not RAPED and are staying on, will receive as much **** (Special High Intensity Training) as possible.
The government has always prided itself in the amount of **** it gives out. Should you feel that you do not receive enough ****, please bring this to the attention of your local MP.
They have been trained to give you all the **** you can handle.
:yh_rotfl:yh_rotfl:yh_rotfl:yh_rotfl
Well I thought this was funny
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying "Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f**in number!" and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an arsehole!" and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word 'arsehole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an arsehole!" It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'arsehole' calling would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from Telstra. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?"
He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone.
I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an ARSEHOLE!"
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot.
Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first arsehole ( I had his number on speed dial,) I thought that I'd better call the BMW arsehole, too.
I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
"Yes, it is", he said. "Can you tell me where I can see it?" I asked.
"Yes, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, in Vaucluse. It's a yellow house,and the car's parked right out in front."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"My name is Don Hansen," he said.
"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
"I'm home every evening after five."
"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"
"Yes?"
>"Don, you're an arsehole!" Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two arseholes to call. Then I came up with an idea. I called Arsehole #1.
"Hello."
"You're an arsehole!" (But I didn't hang up.)
"Are you still there?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Stop calling me," he screamed.
"Make me," I said.
>"Who are you?" he asked.
>"My name is Don Hansen."
>"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"Arsehole, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front."
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, arsehole," and hung up.
Then I called Arsehole #2. "Hello?" he said.
"Hello, arsehole," I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."
"You'll what?" I said.
"I'll kick your arse," he exclaimed.
I answered, "Well, arsehole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover. Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse.
>I quickly got into my car and headed over to Mowbray. I got there just in time to watch two arseholes beating the crap out of eachother in front of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news crew.
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying "Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f**in number!" and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an arsehole!" and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word 'arsehole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an arsehole!" It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'arsehole' calling would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from Telstra. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?"
He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone.
I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an ARSEHOLE!"
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot.
Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first arsehole ( I had his number on speed dial,) I thought that I'd better call the BMW arsehole, too.
I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
"Yes, it is", he said. "Can you tell me where I can see it?" I asked.
"Yes, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, in Vaucluse. It's a yellow house,and the car's parked right out in front."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"My name is Don Hansen," he said.
"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
"I'm home every evening after five."
"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"
"Yes?"
>"Don, you're an arsehole!" Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two arseholes to call. Then I came up with an idea. I called Arsehole #1.
"Hello."
"You're an arsehole!" (But I didn't hang up.)
"Are you still there?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Stop calling me," he screamed.
"Make me," I said.
>"Who are you?" he asked.
>"My name is Don Hansen."
>"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"Arsehole, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front."
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, arsehole," and hung up.
Then I called Arsehole #2. "Hello?" he said.
"Hello, arsehole," I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."
"You'll what?" I said.
"I'll kick your arse," he exclaimed.
I answered, "Well, arsehole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover. Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse.
>I quickly got into my car and headed over to Mowbray. I got there just in time to watch two arseholes beating the crap out of eachother in front of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news crew.
Well I thought this was funny
Why is arsehole not censored while it's product **** is ?
I thought I knew more than this until I opened my mouth
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
Men are like ... Laxatives ...They irritate the crap out of you.
Men are like ... Bananas ... The older they get, the less firm they are.
Men are like ... Vacations ... They never seem to be long enough.
Men are like ... Weather ... Nothing can be done to change them.
Men are like ... Blenders ... You need One, but you're not quite sure why.
Men are like ... Chocolate Bars ... Sweet, smooth, & they usually head right for your hips.
Men are like ... Coffee ... The best ones are rich, warm, & can keep you up all night long.
Men are like ... Commercials ... You can't believe a word they say.
Men are like ... Department Stores ... Their clothes are always 1/2 off.
Men are like ... Government Bonds ... They take soooooooo long to mature.
Men are like ... Mascara ... They usually run at the first sign of emotion.
Men are like ... Popcorn ... They satisfy you, but only for a little while.
Men are like ... Lava Lamps ... Fun to look at, but not very bright.
Men are like ... Parking Spots ... All the good ones are taken, the rest are handicapped.
Men are like ... Snowstorms ... You never know when they're coming, how many inches you'll get or how long it will last.
Men are like ... Bananas ... The older they get, the less firm they are.
Men are like ... Vacations ... They never seem to be long enough.
Men are like ... Weather ... Nothing can be done to change them.
Men are like ... Blenders ... You need One, but you're not quite sure why.
Men are like ... Chocolate Bars ... Sweet, smooth, & they usually head right for your hips.
Men are like ... Coffee ... The best ones are rich, warm, & can keep you up all night long.
Men are like ... Commercials ... You can't believe a word they say.
Men are like ... Department Stores ... Their clothes are always 1/2 off.
Men are like ... Government Bonds ... They take soooooooo long to mature.
Men are like ... Mascara ... They usually run at the first sign of emotion.
Men are like ... Popcorn ... They satisfy you, but only for a little while.
Men are like ... Lava Lamps ... Fun to look at, but not very bright.
Men are like ... Parking Spots ... All the good ones are taken, the rest are handicapped.
Men are like ... Snowstorms ... You never know when they're coming, how many inches you'll get or how long it will last.
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
true story
A coupla blokes in the South Australia outback were entertaining themselves with the politically incorrect game of tying sticks of dynamite to rabbits which would then run in to their burrows to hide and boof! huge clouds of dust would fly out of the holes in the ground. This went on for a little while until karma caught up with the blokes and the next rabbit did not go down its hole but hid under their brandnew Landcruiser !!
A coupla blokes in the South Australia outback were entertaining themselves with the politically incorrect game of tying sticks of dynamite to rabbits which would then run in to their burrows to hide and boof! huge clouds of dust would fly out of the holes in the ground. This went on for a little while until karma caught up with the blokes and the next rabbit did not go down its hole but hid under their brandnew Landcruiser !!
Well I thought this was funny
If they think you haven't heard women say the same thing over and over until you take notice
I thought I knew more than this until I opened my mouth
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
As we all know, the Taliban considers it a sin for a man to see a naked woman who is not his wife. So, this
Saturday at 2:00 PM Eastern time all Australian women are asked to walk out of their house completely naked to help weed out any neighbourhood terrorists.
Circling your block for one hour is recommended for this anti-terrorist effort. All men are to position
themselves in lawn chairs in front of their house to prove they are not Taliban, demonstrate that they
think it's okay to see nude women other than their wife and to show support for all Australian women.
And since the Taliban also does not approve of alcohol, a cold six-pack at your side is further proof
of your anti-Taliban sentiment.
The Australian Government appreciates your efforts to root out terrorists and applauds your participation in
this anti-terrorist activity. God bless Australia!
Saturday at 2:00 PM Eastern time all Australian women are asked to walk out of their house completely naked to help weed out any neighbourhood terrorists.
Circling your block for one hour is recommended for this anti-terrorist effort. All men are to position
themselves in lawn chairs in front of their house to prove they are not Taliban, demonstrate that they
think it's okay to see nude women other than their wife and to show support for all Australian women.
And since the Taliban also does not approve of alcohol, a cold six-pack at your side is further proof
of your anti-Taliban sentiment.
The Australian Government appreciates your efforts to root out terrorists and applauds your participation in
this anti-terrorist activity. God bless Australia!
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
Bruv;1370458 wrote: If they think you haven't heard women say the same thing over and over until you take notice
lighten up mate.
lighten up mate.
Well I thought this was funny
:yh_rotfl:yh_rotfl Great thread, Fuzzy. Hope you keep adding to it!
I've never heard the story of the rabbits and the dynamite, but I do hope it is true :p :wah:
I've never heard the story of the rabbits and the dynamite, but I do hope it is true :p :wah:
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
it was on the news ..silly dickheads. there's another in which two friends shot each other as a dare...I put it in another thread, some things you just can't make up ...
when it comes down to it you gotta laugh .....otherwise you'd go insane.
when it comes down to it you gotta laugh .....otherwise you'd go insane.
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
there's another of one of our prime ministers telling a joke at a conference before he was our primeminister about India or pakistan.... then he wondered why the diplomats of that state didn't like him ...hhhhmmm I'm tipping i know why :yh_rotfl
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
arrowJokes about the differences between Aussies, Brits, Americans and Candadians
Aussies: Believe you should look out for your mates.
Brits: Believe that you should look out for those people who belong to your club.
Americans: Believe that people should look out for and take care of themselves.
Canadians: Believe that that is the government's job.
Aussies: Dislike being mistaken for Pommies (Brits) when abroad.
Canadians: Are rather indignant about being mistaken for Americans when abroad.
Americans: Encourage being mistaken for Canadians when abroad.
Brits: Can't possibly be mistaken for anyone else when abroad.
Canadians: Endure bitterly cold winters and are proud of it.
Brits: Endure oppressively wet and dreary winters and are proud of it.
Americans: Don't have to do either, and couldn't care less.
Aussies: Don't understand what inclement weather means.
Americans: Drink weak, pissy-tasting beer.
Canadians: Drink strong, pissy-tasting beer.
Brits: Drink warm, beery-tasting ****.
Aussies: Drink anything with alcohol in it.
Americans: Seem to think that poverty and failure are morally suspect.
Canadians: Seem to believe that wealth and success are morally suspect.
Brits: Seem to believe that wealth, poverty, success, and failure are inherited.
Aussies: Seem to think that none of this matters after several beers.
Brits: Have produced many great comedians, celebrated by Canadians, ignored by Americans, and therefore not rich.
Aussies: Have produced comedians like Paul Hogan and Yahoo Serious.
Canadians: Have produced many great comedians such as John Candy, Martin Short, Jim Carrey, Dan Akroyd, and all the rest at SCTV.
Americans: Think that these people are American!
Americans: Spend most of their lives glued to the idiot box.
Canadians: Don't, but only because they can't get more American channels.
Brits: Pay a tax just so they can watch 4 channels.
Aussies: Export all their crappy programs, which no one there watches, to Britain, where everybody loves them.
Americans: Will jabber on incessantly about football, baseball and basketball.
Brits: Will jabber on incessantly about cricket, soccer and rugby.
Canadians: Will jabber on incessantly about hockey, hockey, hockey, and how they beat the Americans twice, playing baseball.
Aussies: Will jabber on incessantly about how they beat the Poms in every sport they played them in.
Aussies: Are extremely patriotic about their beer.
Americans: Are flag-waving, anthem-singing, and obsessively patriotic to the point of blindness.
Canadians: Can't agree on the words to their anthem, in either language, when they can be bothered to sing them.
Brits: Do not sing at all but prefer a large brass band to perform the anthem.
Brits: Are justifiably proud of the accomplishments of their past citizens.
Americans: Are justifiably proud of the accomplishments of their present citizens.
Canadians: Prattle on about how some of those great Americans were once Canadian.
Aussies: Waffle on about how some of their past citizens were once Outlaw Pommies, but none of that matters after several beers.
Aussies: Believe you should look out for your mates.
Brits: Believe that you should look out for those people who belong to your club.
Americans: Believe that people should look out for and take care of themselves.
Canadians: Believe that that is the government's job.
Aussies: Dislike being mistaken for Pommies (Brits) when abroad.
Canadians: Are rather indignant about being mistaken for Americans when abroad.
Americans: Encourage being mistaken for Canadians when abroad.
Brits: Can't possibly be mistaken for anyone else when abroad.
Canadians: Endure bitterly cold winters and are proud of it.
Brits: Endure oppressively wet and dreary winters and are proud of it.
Americans: Don't have to do either, and couldn't care less.
Aussies: Don't understand what inclement weather means.
Americans: Drink weak, pissy-tasting beer.
Canadians: Drink strong, pissy-tasting beer.
Brits: Drink warm, beery-tasting ****.
Aussies: Drink anything with alcohol in it.
Americans: Seem to think that poverty and failure are morally suspect.
Canadians: Seem to believe that wealth and success are morally suspect.
Brits: Seem to believe that wealth, poverty, success, and failure are inherited.
Aussies: Seem to think that none of this matters after several beers.
Brits: Have produced many great comedians, celebrated by Canadians, ignored by Americans, and therefore not rich.
Aussies: Have produced comedians like Paul Hogan and Yahoo Serious.
Canadians: Have produced many great comedians such as John Candy, Martin Short, Jim Carrey, Dan Akroyd, and all the rest at SCTV.
Americans: Think that these people are American!
Americans: Spend most of their lives glued to the idiot box.
Canadians: Don't, but only because they can't get more American channels.
Brits: Pay a tax just so they can watch 4 channels.
Aussies: Export all their crappy programs, which no one there watches, to Britain, where everybody loves them.
Americans: Will jabber on incessantly about football, baseball and basketball.
Brits: Will jabber on incessantly about cricket, soccer and rugby.
Canadians: Will jabber on incessantly about hockey, hockey, hockey, and how they beat the Americans twice, playing baseball.
Aussies: Will jabber on incessantly about how they beat the Poms in every sport they played them in.
Aussies: Are extremely patriotic about their beer.
Americans: Are flag-waving, anthem-singing, and obsessively patriotic to the point of blindness.
Canadians: Can't agree on the words to their anthem, in either language, when they can be bothered to sing them.
Brits: Do not sing at all but prefer a large brass band to perform the anthem.
Brits: Are justifiably proud of the accomplishments of their past citizens.
Americans: Are justifiably proud of the accomplishments of their present citizens.
Canadians: Prattle on about how some of those great Americans were once Canadian.
Aussies: Waffle on about how some of their past citizens were once Outlaw Pommies, but none of that matters after several beers.
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
I love how they've used the accents in this one .
The scene is set, the night is cold, the campfire is burning and the stars twinkle in the dark night sky...
Three hang-glider pilots, one from Australia, one from South Africa and the other from New Zealand, are sitting round a campfire near Ayers Rock, each embroiled with the bravado for which they are famous.
A night of tall tales begins....
Kiven, the kiwi says, "I must be the meanest, toughest heng glider dude there us. Why, just the other day, I linded in a field and scared a crocodile thet got loose from the swamp. Et ate sux men before I wrestled ut to the ground weth my bare hends end beat ut's bliddy 'ed un.
Jerry from South Africa typically can't stand to be bettered. "Well you guys, I lended orfter a 200 mile flight on a tiny treck, ind a fifteen foot Namibian desert snike slid out from under a rock and made a move for me. I grebbed thet borsted with my bare hinds and tore it's head orf ind sucked the poison down in one gulp. Ind I'm still here today".
Barry the Aussie remained silent, slowly poking the fire with his penis.
The scene is set, the night is cold, the campfire is burning and the stars twinkle in the dark night sky...
Three hang-glider pilots, one from Australia, one from South Africa and the other from New Zealand, are sitting round a campfire near Ayers Rock, each embroiled with the bravado for which they are famous.
A night of tall tales begins....
Kiven, the kiwi says, "I must be the meanest, toughest heng glider dude there us. Why, just the other day, I linded in a field and scared a crocodile thet got loose from the swamp. Et ate sux men before I wrestled ut to the ground weth my bare hends end beat ut's bliddy 'ed un.
Jerry from South Africa typically can't stand to be bettered. "Well you guys, I lended orfter a 200 mile flight on a tiny treck, ind a fifteen foot Namibian desert snike slid out from under a rock and made a move for me. I grebbed thet borsted with my bare hinds and tore it's head orf ind sucked the poison down in one gulp. Ind I'm still here today".
Barry the Aussie remained silent, slowly poking the fire with his penis.
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
Helen Clarke, Prime Minister of New Zulland, is rudely awoken at 4am by the telephone.
"Hillen, its the Hilth Munister here. Sorry to bother you at this hour but there is an emergency! I've just received word thet the Durex fectory en Auckland has burned to the ground. It is istimated thet the entire New Zulland supply of condoms will be gone by the ind of the week."
PM: "Shut - the economy wull niver be able to cope with all those unwanted babies - wi'll be ruined!"
Hilth Munister: "We're going to hef to shup some in from abroad... Brutain?..."
PM: "No chence!! The Poms will have a field day on thus one!"
Hilth Munister: "What about Australia?"
PM: "Maybe - but we don't want them to know thet we are stuck."
Hilth Munister: "You call John Howard - tell hum we need one moollion condoms; ten enches long and eight enches thuck! That way they'll know how bug the Kiwis really are!!"
Helen calls John, who agrees to help the Kiwis out in their hour of need.
Three days later a plane arrives in Auckland - full of boxes.
A delighted Hillen rushes out to open the boxes. She finds condoms; 10 unches long; 8 unches thuck, all coloured green and gold. She then notices in small writing on each and ivery one.........
MADE IN AUSTRALIA - SIZE : MEDIUM
"Hillen, its the Hilth Munister here. Sorry to bother you at this hour but there is an emergency! I've just received word thet the Durex fectory en Auckland has burned to the ground. It is istimated thet the entire New Zulland supply of condoms will be gone by the ind of the week."
PM: "Shut - the economy wull niver be able to cope with all those unwanted babies - wi'll be ruined!"
Hilth Munister: "We're going to hef to shup some in from abroad... Brutain?..."
PM: "No chence!! The Poms will have a field day on thus one!"
Hilth Munister: "What about Australia?"
PM: "Maybe - but we don't want them to know thet we are stuck."
Hilth Munister: "You call John Howard - tell hum we need one moollion condoms; ten enches long and eight enches thuck! That way they'll know how bug the Kiwis really are!!"
Helen calls John, who agrees to help the Kiwis out in their hour of need.
Three days later a plane arrives in Auckland - full of boxes.
A delighted Hillen rushes out to open the boxes. She finds condoms; 10 unches long; 8 unches thuck, all coloured green and gold. She then notices in small writing on each and ivery one.........
MADE IN AUSTRALIA - SIZE : MEDIUM
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
A bloke escapes from prison where he has been for 15 years. He breaks into a house to look for money, beer and guns and finds a young Australian couple in bed. He orders the bloke out of bed and ties him to a chair. While tying the girl to the bed he gets on top of her, kisses her neck, then goes into the bathroom.
While the man is in the bathroom, the husband tells the wife: "Listen, this guy's an escaped inmate, look at his clothes! He probably spent lots of time in jail and hasn't seen a woman in years... I saw how he kissed your
neck. If he wants sex, don't resist, don't complain. Do whatever he tells you. Satisfy him no matter how much he nauseates you. This guy is probably dangerous. If he gets angry, he'll kill us. Be strong, honey. I love you." To which the wife responds: "He wasn't kissing my neck. He was whispering in my ear. He told me he was gay,thought you were cute, and asked if we had any Vaseline. I told him it was in the bathroom. Be strong honey, I love you too!!"
While the man is in the bathroom, the husband tells the wife: "Listen, this guy's an escaped inmate, look at his clothes! He probably spent lots of time in jail and hasn't seen a woman in years... I saw how he kissed your
neck. If he wants sex, don't resist, don't complain. Do whatever he tells you. Satisfy him no matter how much he nauseates you. This guy is probably dangerous. If he gets angry, he'll kill us. Be strong, honey. I love you." To which the wife responds: "He wasn't kissing my neck. He was whispering in my ear. He told me he was gay,thought you were cute, and asked if we had any Vaseline. I told him it was in the bathroom. Be strong honey, I love you too!!"
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fuzzywuzzy
- Posts: 6596
- Joined: Mon Feb 02, 2009 5:35 pm
Well I thought this was funny
Three blokes were working on a high rise building project, Macca, Chook and Simmo. Chook falls off and is killed instantly. As the ambulance takes the body away, Simmo says,"Someone should go and tell his wife." Macca says, "OK, I`m pretty good at that sensitive stuff, I'll do it."
Two hours later, Macca comes back carrying a slab of VB. Simmo says,"Where did you get that, Macca?"
"Chook's missus gave it to me." "That's unbelievable, you told the lady her husband was dead and she
gave you beer?" Macca says, "Well not exactly. When she answered the door, I said to her, "You must be Chook`s widow."
She said, "No, I'm not a widow."
And I said, "Wanna bet me a slab"
Two hours later, Macca comes back carrying a slab of VB. Simmo says,"Where did you get that, Macca?"
"Chook's missus gave it to me." "That's unbelievable, you told the lady her husband was dead and she
gave you beer?" Macca says, "Well not exactly. When she answered the door, I said to her, "You must be Chook`s widow."
She said, "No, I'm not a widow."
And I said, "Wanna bet me a slab"