Jokes News

Two very elderly ladies were enjoying the sunshine on a park bench in Miami. They had been meeting at that park for every sunny day for over 12 years, chatting and enjoying each other’s friendship.

One day, the younger of the two ladies turns to the other and says, “Please don’t be angry with me, Dear, but I am so embarrassed. After all these years, what is your name? I am trying to remember, but I just can’t.”

The older friend stares at her, looking very distressed and says nothing for two full minutes. Finally, with tearful eyes, she says, “How soon do you have to know?”

A skeleton walks into a bar and says, “I’d like a beer and a mop, please.”

A market researcher called at a house and his knock was answered by a young woman with three small children running around her. He asked her if she minded replying to his questions and when she agreed, he asked her if she knew his company, Cheeseborough-Ponds. When she said no, he mentioned that among their many products was Vaseline and she certainly knew of THAT product.

When asked if she used it, the answer was “Yes, we use it when we have sexual intercourse.” The interviewer was amazed. He said, “I always ask that question because everyone uses our product and they always say they use it for the child’s bicycle chain, or the gate hinge or some other purpose; but I know that most people really use it for sexual intercourse, they just don’t like to say so. Since you’ve been so frank, could you tell me exactly how you use it?”

“We put it on the doorknob to keep the kids from barging in on us.”

What has six balls and screws you once a week?

The lottery.

A man boards an airplane and takes his seat. As he settles in, he glances up and sees a very beautiful woman boarding the plane. He soon realizes she’s heading straight towards his seat. Lo and behold, she takes the seat right beside his.

Eager to strike up a conversation, he blurts out, “Business trip or vacation?” She turns, smiles and says, “Business. I’m going to the annual Nymphomaniac Convention in Chicago.”

He swallows hard. Here is the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen, sitting next to him and she’s going to a meeting of nymphomaniacs! Struggling to maintain his composure, he calmly asks, “What’s your business role at this convention?” “Lecturer,” she says, “I use my experience to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality.” “Really,” he says, swallowing hard,”what myths are those?” “Well,” she explains, “one popular myth is that African American men are the most well endowed when, in fact, it’s the Native American Indian who is most likely to possess that trait. Another popular myth is that French men are the best lovers, when actually it is the man of Jewish descent. However, we have found that the best potential lover in all categories is the Southern Red Neck.”

Suddenly,the woman becomes a little uncomfortable and blushes. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I shouldn’t be discussing this with you. I don’t even know your name!”

“Tonto!”, the man says, “Tonto Goldstein!…but my friends call me ‘Bubba’”.

One day, at the 45th National Bank, a frog hopped inside and sat at the loan info chair. The lady on the job asked, “How may I help you?”, feeling dumb for talking to a frog.

The frog replied, “Ribbit ribbit, loan, 5 dollars.”

The lady asked the frog for colateral, and he spit a wooden bird, no taller then 2cm on the table. Wiping it off, the lady replied, “Mr. frog, my name is Patricia Black. I will be right back after I talk with my boss.” She felt even weirder now.

Patty told her boss the strange story and asked what she should do. The old man thought for a minute and said…

“Why, It’s a nick-nack, Patty Black, give the frog a loan.”

While out one morning in the park, a jogger found a brand new tennis ball.

Seeing no one around it might belong to, he slipped it into the pocket of his shorts.

Later, on his way home, he stopped at the pedestrian crossing, waiting for the lights to change.

A girl standing next to him eyed the large bulge in his shorts.

“What’s that ?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with lust.

“Tennis ball,” came the breathless reply.

“Oh,” said the girl sympathetically, “that must be terribly painful…. I had tennis elbow once.”

Eleven reasons e-mail is like a male reproductive organ:

11. Those who have it would be devastated if it was ever cut off.

10. Those who have it think that those who don’t are somehow inferior.

9. Those who don’t have it may agree that it’s neat, but think it’s not worth the fuss that those who have it make about it.

8. Many of those who don’t have it would like to try it, a phenomenon psychologists call *E-Mail Envy.*

7. It’s more fun when it’s up, but this makes it hard to get any real work done.

6. In the distant past, its only purpose was to transmit information vital to the survival of the species. Some people still think that’s the only thing it should be used for, but most folks today use it mostly for fun.

5. If you don’t take proper precautions, it can spread viruses.

4. If you use it too much, you’ll find it becomes more and more difficult to think coherently.

3. We attach an importance to it that is far greater than its actual size and influence warrant.

2. If you’re not careful what you do with it, it can get you into a lot of trouble.

1. And the number one reason ‘Why E-Mail is Like a Male Reproductive Organ’: If you play with it too much, you’ll go blind.

To guys are fishing and arguing about who would be the next one to have sex with a beautiful woman until a bet of $1,000 is finally made.

Suddenly, one of them got a bite on his line and pulls up a mermaid. If that wasn’t strange enough the mermaid said to them, “If you let me go I’ll grant each of you any wish you desire.”

Quickly one of the guys says, “I wish I were having sex with a beautiful woman right now.” Poof! And he is having sex with a beautiful woman.

The mermaid then turns to the other guy and says, “What do you wish?”

Thoughtfully he says, “I wish he was a condom.”

The mother of a problem child was advised by a psychiatrist, “You are far too upset and worried about your
son. I suggest you take tranquilizers regularly.”

On her next visit, the psychiatrist asked, “Have the tranquilizers calmed you down?”

“Yes,” the mother answered.

“And how is your son now?” he asked.

“Who gives a shit?” she replied.