A guy walked into a bar and sat down next to an extremely gorgeous woman. The first thing he noticed about her was her pants. They were skin-tight, high-waisted and had no zippers, buttons or velcro for opening them. After several minutes of puzzling over how she got the pants up over her hips, he finally worked up the nerve to ask her.
"Excuse me miss, but how do you get into your pants?" he asks.
"Well," she replied, "You can start by buying me a drink."
Showing posts with label humour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humour. Show all posts
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Drunk or Not?
OLE took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Lena. He tiptoed quietly toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Ole sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood. He then hid the now almost empty box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed. In the morning, Ole woke up with searing pain in his head and butt and Lena staring at him from across the room.
She said, "You were drunk again last night weren't you Ole?"
Ole said, "Why you say such a mean ting?"
"Well," Lena said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly...... it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the downstairs mirror."
Managing not to yell, Ole sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood. He then hid the now almost empty box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed. In the morning, Ole woke up with searing pain in his head and butt and Lena staring at him from across the room.
She said, "You were drunk again last night weren't you Ole?"
Ole said, "Why you say such a mean ting?"
"Well," Lena said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly...... it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the downstairs mirror."
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Cigarettes And Tampons
A man walks into a pharmacy and wanders up and down the aisles.
The sales girl notices him and asks him if she can help him.
He answers that he is looking for a box of tampons for his wife.
She directs him down the correct aisle.
A few minutes later, he deposits a huge bag of cotton balls and a ball of string on the counter. She says, confused, "Sir, I thought you were looking for some tampons for your wife?"
He answers, "You see, it's like this, yesterday, I sent my wife to the store to get me a carton of cigarettes, and she came back with a tin of tobacco and some rolling papers; cause it's sooo-ooo--oo-ooo much cheaper.
So, I figure if I have to roll my own .......... so does she.
(I figure this guy is the one on the milk carton!)
The sales girl notices him and asks him if she can help him.
He answers that he is looking for a box of tampons for his wife.
She directs him down the correct aisle.
A few minutes later, he deposits a huge bag of cotton balls and a ball of string on the counter. She says, confused, "Sir, I thought you were looking for some tampons for your wife?"
He answers, "You see, it's like this, yesterday, I sent my wife to the store to get me a carton of cigarettes, and she came back with a tin of tobacco and some rolling papers; cause it's sooo-ooo--oo-ooo much cheaper.
So, I figure if I have to roll my own .......... so does she.
(I figure this guy is the one on the milk carton!)
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Little Johnny
Little Johnny's father had just returned home from a business trip, and he had a romantic evening planned with his wife. So, he sent his two older kids to the movies, but he couldn't persuade Little Johnny to go along.
Finally, he made a deal with Little Johnny, "If you go sit outside of the house, I'll give you five dollars for every man you see go by in a red hat."
An excited Little Johnny agreed.
Some time later, Little Johnny ran into the house and up to his parents bedroom. He banged on the door and shouted, "Hey, Dad, if you think your getting screwed in THERE, just wait until you come outside 'cause there's a Shriner convention going past our house."
Finally, he made a deal with Little Johnny, "If you go sit outside of the house, I'll give you five dollars for every man you see go by in a red hat."
An excited Little Johnny agreed.
Some time later, Little Johnny ran into the house and up to his parents bedroom. He banged on the door and shouted, "Hey, Dad, if you think your getting screwed in THERE, just wait until you come outside 'cause there's a Shriner convention going past our house."
Thursday, October 16, 2008
My lil' window lickin' son
My little boy has Lowe Syndrome, a rare genetic disorder which leaves him with physical disabilities and multiple and profound learning difficulties.
Last year his special needs school took him wheelchair ice skating for the first time. He really enjoyed the wind in his wee face, but they spent so long on the ice, that he was long overdue a nappy change, ( he is 10 and doubly incontinent ) He takes various kidney medications which leaves him with loose stools, which I am pretty immune to after a decade....
Anyway the shit had leaked out from the bottom of the nappy and travelled down his leg inside his trousers, into his socks and boots, special orthopaedic ones, all beautifully stitched.
Whoever changed his nappy, put the shoes in one bag and tried to rinse out the trousers, gave up and stuck them in another. All cool. It's not their job to launder shitty clothes.
Someone else came along to pack the school bags, saw the shoes and put them in with the wet shitty trousers to keep them together, not realising how disgusting the trousers were.
Three hours later the schoolbag arrives home, did you ever see pong lines in a cartoon when there's something smelly? I swear these were coming out of this bad when I opened it. The stench was unbelievable...wet shite, leather shoes, you do the maths.
I dealt with the trousers and socks, but the shoes were just plastered with shit, in all the stitching. To try and clean them I had to hand pick the shit out the stitching with a needle, with the tune running through my head " if my friends could see me now"
It only took 45 minutes.
Now that's what I call care in the community, what I earn my £43.15 per week for :(
Last year his special needs school took him wheelchair ice skating for the first time. He really enjoyed the wind in his wee face, but they spent so long on the ice, that he was long overdue a nappy change, ( he is 10 and doubly incontinent ) He takes various kidney medications which leaves him with loose stools, which I am pretty immune to after a decade....
Anyway the shit had leaked out from the bottom of the nappy and travelled down his leg inside his trousers, into his socks and boots, special orthopaedic ones, all beautifully stitched.
Whoever changed his nappy, put the shoes in one bag and tried to rinse out the trousers, gave up and stuck them in another. All cool. It's not their job to launder shitty clothes.
Someone else came along to pack the school bags, saw the shoes and put them in with the wet shitty trousers to keep them together, not realising how disgusting the trousers were.
Three hours later the schoolbag arrives home, did you ever see pong lines in a cartoon when there's something smelly? I swear these were coming out of this bad when I opened it. The stench was unbelievable...wet shite, leather shoes, you do the maths.
I dealt with the trousers and socks, but the shoes were just plastered with shit, in all the stitching. To try and clean them I had to hand pick the shit out the stitching with a needle, with the tune running through my head " if my friends could see me now"
It only took 45 minutes.
Now that's what I call care in the community, what I earn my £43.15 per week for :(
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