A couple laughs for you guys

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That pretty much sums it up for me lately. I have more unfinished than finished right now.

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"A Dog Named Sex"

By Morty Storm

Everybody who has a dog calls him "Rover" or "Boy." I call mine "Sex." He's a great pal, but he has caused me a great deal of embarrassment.

When I went to city hall to renew his dog license, I told the clerk I would like a license for Sex. He said, "I'd like one too!"

Then, I said, "But this is a dog." He said he didn't care what she looked like. Then, I said, "You don't understand, I've had Sex since I was 9 years old." He winked and said, "You must have been quite a kid."

When I got married and went on my honeymoon, I took the dog with me. I told the motel clerk that I wanted a room for my wife and me and a special room for Sex.

He said, "You don't need a special room. As long as you pay your bill, we don't care what you do." I said, "Look, you don't seem to understand. Sex keeps me awake at night." The clerk said, "Funny -- I have the same problem."

One day, I entered Sex in a contest, but before the competition began, the dog ran away. Another contestant asked me why I was just standing there, looking disappointed. I told him I had planned to have Sex in the contest. He told me I should have sold my own tickets. "But you don't understand," I said, "I had hoped to have Sex on TV." He said, "Now that cable is all over the place, it's no big deal anymore."

When my wife and I separated, we went to court to fight for custody of the dog. I said, "Your honor, I had Sex before I was married." The judge said, "The courtroom isn't a confessional. Stick to the case, please."

Then, I told him that after I was married, Sex left me. He said, "Me too."

Last night, Sex ran off again. I spent hours looking all over town for him. A cop came over to me and asked, "What are you doing in this alley at 4 o'clock in the morning?" I told him that I was looking for Sex. My case comes up Friday.

It was Greg the mailman's last day on the job after 35 years of carrying the mail through all kinds of weather to the same neighborhood.
When he arrived at the first house on his route, he was greeted by the whole family who roundly and soundly congratulated him and sent him on his way with a tidy gift envelope.
At the second house, they presented him with a box of fine cigars.
The folks at the third house handed him a selection of terrific fishing lures.
At the fourth house he was met at the door by a strikingly beautiful blonde woman in a revealing negligee. She took him by the hand, gently led him through the door and up the stairs to the bedroom where she blew his mind with the most passionate love he had ever experienced!
When he had enough, they went downstairs where she fixed him a giant breakfast: eggs, potatoes, ham, sausage, blueberry waffles, and fresh-squeezed orange juice. When he was truly satisfied she poured him a cup of steaming coffee. As she was pouring, he noticed a dollar bill sticking out from under the cup's bottom edge.
"All of this was just too wonderful for words."
He said, "But what's the dollar for"?
"Well," she said, "last night, I told my husband that today would be your last day, and that we should do something special for you. I asked him what to give you, and he said, "Screw him. Give him a dollar." "The breakfast was my idea!!..

This is a long one, but worth it i think.
THE FART THAT (ALMOST) ALTERED MY DESTINY

Written by Anna. Posted in Marriage

Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it’s the third date with the man of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that’s “Silent But Deadly” for you prudes).

It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That’s when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good.

He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I’m not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn’t want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a 15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms.

We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn’t allowed myself to eat in years. I didn’t want to be “that girl” so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?

That’s when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways – uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn’t feeling well and probably needed to head home.
On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn’t having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks. Then I realized …

My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.

The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard.

“Seriously, you need to hurry – I’m in a lot of pain.” I managed to say through gritted teeth.

“Wow, it’s that bad? What’s wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?”

How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you’re writhing in pain is because you have to fart?

Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.
People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out. The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced it’s way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I’m home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud. Not in a, “am I smelling something?” sort of way. More like a “is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?” sort of way.

Suddenly, I panicked. “Roll down the windows!” I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).

“What? Why?” Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.

“I can’t roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!”

“What’s going on?” Rob yells back to me, “Why are you …” then it hit him. I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, “Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!” he screamed.

“Roll down the windows!” As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.

It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.
Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows. We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.

We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way.

He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, “Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!” and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.

I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.

Then I heard it. Rob’s voice. Right outside my bathroom door.

“Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?”

“Get away from the door!” I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist.
“Ok, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*
“I’m fine, Rob – just leave the shoes there. I’ll call you later okay?”

“Okay, are you sure you’re …”

“I’m fine! Get away from the door!”

This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin’ hint!

Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I’d hear from him. I didn’t think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours.

But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we’re married and he’s laying on the couch while I type this … “It was your rack that saved you,” he just lovingly reminded me

My wife and I went to the Lincolnshire county farm show and one of the first exhibits we stopped at was the breeding bulls.
We went up to the first pen and there was a sign attached that said 'THIS BULL MATED 50 TIMES LAST YEAR'.
My wife playfully nudged me in the ribs, smiled and said "He mated 50 times last year, that's almost once a week!".
We walked to the second pen which had a sign attached that said 'THIS BULL MATED 150 TIMES LAST YEAR'.
My wife gave me a healthy jab and said "WOW! That's more than twice a week!! You could learn a lot from him".
We walked to the third pen and it had a sign attached that said in capital letters 'THIS BULL MATED 365 TIMES LAST YEAR'.
My wife was so excited that her elbow nearly broke my ribs and said "That's once a day. You could REALLY learn something from this one".
I looked at her and said "Go over and ask him if it was with the same old cow".
I don't remember much about what happened next. My condition has been upgraded from critical to stable, I should eventually make a full recovery.

Holy crap, Dale! I'm here at work laughing out loud. Two hilarious jokes and that piece you're wife wrote, hilarious. Let her know I love it. Is she published or does she just keep a personal journal of all this? Does she know you're reading her diary?! Lol. Thanks for the laughs.

You are welcome guys, glad to be able to brighten up someones day, Iceman, my Ex-wife would not have got the second date, she didn't have much of a rack to save herself.

A man with a completely bald head and only one leg is invited to a
Xmas fancy dress party.
He doesn't know what to wear to hide his head and his wooden
leg, so he writes to a fancy dress company to explain his
problem. A few days later he receives a parcel with a
note:

Dear Sir,
Please find enclosed a Pirate's outfit. The spotted
handkerchief will cover your bald head and with your wooden
leg you will be just right as a Pirate. The man is
offended that the outfit emphasizes his disability, so he
writes a letter of complaint.. A week passes and he
receives another parcel and note

Dear Sir,
Sorry about the previous parcel. Please find enclosed a
monk's habit. The long robe will cover your wooden leg and
with your bald head you will really look the part. The man
is really incandescent with rage now, because the company
has gone from emphasizing his wooden leg to drawing
attention to his bald head. So he writes a really strong
letter of complaint.. A few days later he gets a very small
parcel from the company with the accompanying letter:

Dear Sir,
Please find enclosed a tin of Golden Syrup.
We suggest you pour the tin of Golden Syrup over your bald
head, let it harden, then stick your wooden leg up your arse
and go as a toffee apple.

.Your welcome!!

Black Panties

Anna had lost her husband almost four years ago.
Her daughter was constantly calling her and urging her to get back into the dating world.
Finally, Anna said she'd go out, but didn't know anyone.

Her daughter immediately replied,
"Mum I have someone for you to meet."

Well, it was an immediate hit.
They took to one another and after dating for six weeks, He asked her to join him for a weekend in Spain ....

Their first night there, she undressed as he did.
There she stood nude, except for a pair of black lacy panties
He in his birthday suit.

Looking her over, he asked, "Why the black panties?"

She replied:
"My breasts you can fondle, my body is yours to explore, But down there I am still mourning."

He knew he was not getting lucky that night.

The following night was the same --
She stood there wearing the black lacy panties,
And he was in his birthday suit --
But now he was wearing a black condom...

She looked at him and asked: "What's with the black condom?"

He replied,
"I want to offer my deepest condolences"

===============================================================================

Miss Beatrice,

The church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was admired for sweetness and kindness to all. One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room. She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea.

As he sat facing her old pump organ, the young minister noticed a cut-glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water. In the water floated, of all things, a condom! When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist. "Miss Beatrice", he said, "I wonder if you would tell me about this?" pointing to the bowl. "Oh, yes" she replied, "isn't it wonderful?

I was walking through the park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease. Do you know I haven't had the flu all winter!" The pastor fainted.