Jokes

[lips_222]

Standing at the edge of the lake, a man saw a woman flailing about in the deep water. Unable to swim, the man screamed for help. A trout fisherman ran up. The man said, "My wife is drowning and I can't swim. Please save her. I'll give you a hundred dollars."

The fisherman dove into the water. In ten powerful strokes, he reached the woman, put his arm around her, and swam back to shore.

Depositing her at the feet of the man, the fisherman said, "Okay, where's my hundred dollars?"

The man said, "Look, when I saw her going down for the third time, I thought it was my wife. But this is my mother-in-law."

The fisherman reached into his pocket and said, "Just my luck. How much do I owe you?"

 

[lips_222]

Upon arriving home, a husband was met at the door by his sobbing wife. Tearfully, she explained, "It's the druggist. He insulted me terribly this morning on the phone."

Immediately the husband drove downtown to confront the druggist and demand an apology.

Before he could say more than a word or two, the druggist told him, "Now, just a minute, listen to my side of it.

This morning the alarm failed to go off, so I was late getting up. I went without breakfast and hurried out to the car, just to realize that I locked the house with both house and car keys inside. I had to break a window to get my keys. Then, driving a little too fast, I got a speeding ticket. Later, when I was about three blocks from the store, I had a flat tire. When I finally got to the store there was a bunch of people waiting for me to open up. I got the store opened and started waiting on these people, and all the time the darn phone was ringing off the hook."

He continued, "Then I had to break a roll of nickels against the cash register drawer to make change, and they spilled all over the floor. I got down on my hands and knees to pick up the nickels; the phone was still ringing. When I came up I cracked my head on the open cash drawer which made me stagger back against a showcase with a bunch of perfume bottles on it half of them hit the floor and broke.

Meanwhile, the phone is still ringing with no let up, and I finally got back to answer it.

It was your wife. She wanted to know how to use a rectal thermometer. And believe me Mister, as God is my witness, all I did was tell her...!"

 

[lips_222]

A husband comes home one day to find his wife on the porch, bags packed waiting for a taxi. The husband asked, where are you going?

The wife replied, I found out I can go to Las Vegas and earn $200.00 for what I give you for free, so I'm going.

Before the taxi came, the wife turned around and found her husband standing behind her with his bags packed, too.

The wife asked him where he was going.

The husband replied, with you...I want to see how you are going to survive on $400.00 a month!

 

[lips_222]

There was this couple who had been married for 50 years.
They were sitting at the breakfast table one morning when the old gentleman
said to his wife, "Just think, honey, we've been married for 50 years."
"Yeah," she replied, "Just think, fifty years ago we were sitting here at
this breakfast table together."
"I know," the old man said, "We were probably sitting here naked as jaybirds
fifty years ago."
"Well," Granny snickered, "What do you say...should we get naked?"
Where upon the two stripped to the buff and sat down at the table.
"You know, honey," the little old lady breathlessly replied, "My nipples are
as hot for you today as they were fifty years ago."
"I wouldn't be surprised," replied Gramps.
"One's in your coffee and the other is in your oatmeal!!!!

 

[TantaLiza]

Afternoon Tea

Three Southern ladies were gathered one afternoon for tea. One had just come home from visiting her relatives up North. The other two ladies asked her to tell them about her vacation and this was how the conversation went:

"Well girls, I learned some interesting things while I was up North."

"Do tell, we're very interested."

"I learned that their are women that kiss other women down there...."

"Really? What are they called?"

"They're called lesbians. I also learned that there are men who kiss other men down there...."

"What are they called?"

"They're called gay. I also learned there are men who kiss women down there...."

"What are they called?"

Fanning herself briskly with her napkin, she said, " I really don't know for sure but when he was done, I called him "Precious".....

 

[Ladybird]

Nymphomaniacs Convention

A man boards an airplane and takes his seat. As he settles in,
he glances up and sees a most beautiful woman boarding the
plane. He soon realizes she is heading straight towards his
seat. A wave of nervous anticipation washes over him. Lo and
behold, she takes the seat right beside his.


Eager to strike up a conversation, he blurts out, "Business
trip or vacation?"

"Nymphomaniac Convention in Chicago," she states.

Whoa!!! He swallows hard and is instantly crazed with excitement.

Here's the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen, sitting RIGHT
next to him and she's going to a meeting of nymphomaniacs!
Struggling to maintain his outward cool, he calmly asks,
"What's your business role at this convention?"

"Lecturer", she says. "I use my experiences 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 is
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 men of Greek descent."

Suddenly, the woman becomes very embarrassed 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, as he extends his hand.

"Tonto Papadopoulos."

 

[lips_222]

mickey mouse

Mickey mouse went to a lawyer wanting to divorce minnie mouse. The lawyer listened to his tale then said to mickey.........
"sorry mickey..you cannot divorce minnie just because she has buck teeth".

Mickey replied "I didnt say she had buck teeth, I said she was fucking Goofy" !!

 

[Guest]

Very long story, but funnier than hell.

My Anal Fissure, Bob

After lurking about in the wings the required 2 months I have felt the need to tell you about my anal fissure Bob.

It all started about two years ago in Thailand. I had just fired a round of green chili liquid shit down the hole that the Asians call "toilet" when I noticed an odd sensation just inside the rim of my sphincter accompanied by a blasting spray of rich red blood.

After living in Asia for six months I thought that I had experienced nearly every digestive tract malady known to man. Worms, burning and colonic liquidity on a huge scale. Butt (hehe) this was something completely different.

It was a singularly unique feeling that I know now to have been the actual tearing of my rectum. It was Bob making himself know to me.

At first Bob wasn't so bad. Occasional itch and discomfort. Nothing that I couldn't handle. A mint flavored suppository now and again seemed to do the trick.

But then about a year ago my cruel master Bob began requiring more and more from me. Itching on a scale that can only be described as "hellish" was the order of the day. I had a permanent brown stain on my index finger from trying to scratch the inside of my colon through my troubled anus.

I had lost all sense of decorum. I no longer cared what people thought. I often walk around in public with my hand down my pants, finger firmly implanted, trying to appease the evil God Bob.

In my spare time I would daydream about modifying various farm implements to deal with the overwhelming itch. I even went so far as to order a tined hand trowel.

Finally, I went to see a doctor. He made a quick diagnosis of hemorrhoids and let me go with a prescription for some industrial strength hem lube (tm.) The doc never saw Bob, who had retreated into his tear in fear of his only natural enemy, the medical practioner.

This only made Bob more angry and he visited wanton terror upon me. I began babbling to myself and have conditioned myself so against shitting that it is only with a great nashing of teeth to I make my approach to the bowl. As the chocolate tube steak descends I feel my rectum tear asunder like the curtain of the holy tabernacle. Bob laughing. Bob laughing.

Now, I have finally found a doctor that can help me. She made the diagnosis with a flashlight clamped firmly in her teeth. I had met her in a bar and Bob was not expecting a midnight diagnosis on my living room floor. "No problem" she said.

I have since been scheduled for surgery on October 29th to exorcise Bob from my most tender of parts. He seems to have accepted his fate and has been more peaceful as of late. We spend our time singing and reminiscing about our last two years together. We talk about the life after this one and I comfort him with rectal salve and oatmeal.

I will post details of the operation, and details about the demise of Bob.

I hope that he will be brave.






Bob, Part II

--------------------

Hello Again,

Some of you may remember my previous post regarding my anal fissure, Bob.

The surgery that had been scheduled for October 29th has been postponed until December the first. Bob has had a stay of execution or a reprieve if you will.

Bob has become a holy terror of an anal fissure and my surgeon has informed me that the most effective way of dealing with Bob is a form of surgical exorcism that is know to the medical profession as; VIOLENT ANAL DILATION. I am not making this up!

They are going to anaesthetize Bob and I and then dilate my asshole to a diameter that until that moment it had never known.

My greatest fear is becoming conscious and out of the corner of my eye seeing the medical staff zipping up their trousers.

As you know, my anal fissure Bob and I were due to be separated today. By that most tasteless of medical marvels, violent anal dilation, Bob was to be no more.

The hospital scheduled the dilation over a week ago. They had sent me some medicine that I was to take the night before, and the morning of the procedure. It consisted of an overdose of some kind of laxative pill and two suppositories the size of a sputnik.

Yesterday evening I had ingested the pills and inserted the Grogan Buster(tm) industrial strength stool liquefier. Around ten, I began to feel the need, and by 10:15 I was sitting on the throne enjoying one of the most massive squats of my life. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING that was not original equipment that came with my digestive tract was madly scrambling for the exit.

Sound like fun? Well, for a while it was. Then things began to go wrong.

I had evacuated myself from stem to stern. Enough already I thought. Things slowed down, and I showered off. This morning, I awoke at 4:00 am and as according to my physicians’ instructions, inserted the remaining suppository. Mistake. By 5:00 I was fully in the throws of the colonic "dry heaves." There was nothing to shit, but my colon was receiving a chemical message to evacuate at any cost. What had started out as a good time was rapidly turning into a nightmare.

I arrived at the hospital at 9:00. I was greeted by a nurse who looked as though she belonged in the WWF. I surrendered my trousers and at her command was treated to not one, but two enemas. There was some kind of chemical added to "help clean you out." I once again began desperately trying to expel the contents of my digestive system. Alas, it had been empty since the night before. I sat on the bowl, my sphincter twitching in and out as it tried to pass the phantom grogan that it thought was there. It began to hurt. Bad. For the next half hour I was in such terrible pain. My asshole felt as though it had been beaten with a baseball bat. Eventually, the pain began to subside.

I was led into an adjoining examination room. A doctor that hadn't seen or fingered me before was there. He explained that my surgery was postponed for a week because they had decided that one final test should be performed.

I should stop here to tell you that I am an American living in the country of Finland. Yeah, I speak some Finnish. But it's limited to things like "Gee, those are nice tits." So I wasn't too hip to the terminology of Finnish speaking proctologists. If I knew what was about to happen, I never would have laid down on that table.

THE SCOPE! OUCH! OhJeesusOhJeesusOhJeesus.

Never do this! No matter what they tell you! No matter how hard they plead and cajole. Believe me, death is preferable.

What happened to me next was this: A doctor snaked a 60 cm fiber optic hose up my fundament. It had a viewing scope on one end, and a device to pump air into my colon on the other. As he manipulated it up my rectum I could feel the head move through the colon. I could imagine the bright light moving through the labyrinth of sphincters and valves. It reminded me of a motorcycle headlight racing through the Holland tunnel.

The searing pain was intense. At one point in time, I felt as if the thing was pressing on my lungs. I definitely felt it try to enter something that I was sure was some kind of door to my stomach. At that moment, I began to sweat profusely. The world began to spin. My stomach tried to retch, but again, nothing to barf. There I was, lying naked on a cold table with a scope up my air filled colon trying to spew when a plan for revenge crept into my mind. With all my might I pressed my diaphragm down into the pressurized shit chamber. A tremendous wet fart sang around the hose and out my asshole. It was accompanied by the overwhelming stench of impacted fecal matter. A small smile crossed my lips. The doctor and nurse pretended as though nothing had happened. It was only seconds later though that the tube was retracted and the nurse had to wipe my liquid shit smeared rectum.

Needless to say, a good time was had by all.






Bob, Part III

--------------------

It's been a while since violent anal dilation.

I'm afraid that I have neglected my duties by not telling you about it sooner. But I have been at some loss for words about it.

My anal fissure Bob who had plagued me for the last three years is in the process of dying.

After the violent anal dilation I had expected to awaken from my anaesthetized slumber to find that Bob had been completely destroyed. Annihilated by modern medicine in a small sterile room of a hospital in Seinajoki Finland. A rich heritage of blood and pain wiped out in minutes by strangers in mask and gown.

It all started a couple of Mondays ago at 7 am. I hadn't slept much the night before. Bob was quiet, but I lay awake thinking about what was to come the next morning. I was a little worried. I was about to experience something called violent anal dilation and I was a bit concerned. I found out later that my fears about the procedure where in fact pretty close to reality.

I arrived at the hospital in good spirits. I was shown my bed and given the button up the back surgical mini-dress. Even though the procedure wasn't scheduled until 1:30 I was required to change into the garment. I suppose that it's a mandatory indignity to humiliate and degrade potential troublemakers.

Maybe word had gotten out that I had been asking questions about the procedure. What kind of drugs that they would be giving me, if my physician had performed many of these procedures etc. Medical personnel here don't like being quizzed by foreigners with anal fissures. It had taken lots of explaining just to get permission to have a video taped documentary of the procedure made and released to me. I had to get my local practitioner to request it. It has since been explained to me that most procedures are taped anyway. They just don't release the tapes to the public.

I was in bed dozing when I felt a sharp pain in my ass. I whirled my head around in bed to see a rather stern and matronly looking woman with a large enema bag. Presumably it was her and her nozzle 'o fun that was causing the distress. I admired her technique. I was asleep. She probably figured that I would sleep right through it. What, and miss all the fun? Not likely. Besides, she was about as gentle as a bull elephant.

Anal fissure Bob let out a sharp cry of pain. And so did I. She smiled and patted my head like a lap dog as she filled my rectum. As I looked around the room, I realized that we were not alone. Not 10 feet away was the wife and 2 teenage daughters of the varicose vein strip down in the bed next to me. They were all checking me out. I smiled my best grimace and tried to enjoy myself.

At 1:00 my doctor dropped by for a chat. The first thing that I noticed about him was that the hand that he extended in greeting had a slight palsy. Actually, it was more of a tremor. This is true! "Halloo" he said with a poorly forced smile that revealed his large yellow teeth." I spake anglish warry badney." " Uh....hi" I stammered "I speak a little Finnish; we will try to talk;" "OK" he agreed. We chatted about the usual stuff.....pain.... etc. I'm trying to ask the guy about the procedure when out of the blue, he looks up and says "We will tear you a new asshole." I am not making this up. By this time, I am not feeling very confident about what's going on and am giving some serious thought to just getting up and leaving. I knew about A.F. Bob. He was something that I could understand. I could live with him. This surgeon was something else. An unknown X with a license to dilate. He gave me two tiny white pills to swallow. "For made you relax" he said.

Hmmmm this guy was starting to speak my language, maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. "Seee yuuu in da operashunn place" he said and was gone.

I began feeling a little light headed from whatever drug it was that he had given me when two orderlies came in. They clucked low and softly to me in Finnish. Who knows what they were talking about. I just kept nodding my head stupidly. I couldn't have answered them anyway as my tongue was stuck to the roof of my parched mouth. As they rolled me down the hall I tried to count the number of acoustic tiles in the ceiling.

Eventually, we arrive at the big swinging doors of the operating room and are met by two others in surgical greens. It was like a prisoner exchange at the Rhine. They greeted each other. The two that transported me there wish me a happy dilation, hand over my file to the others, then turn and leave me with the dilation team.

As we enter the operating theatre I begin to feel quite apprehensive. My tongue is thick in my mouth. I am transferred to the main operating table. The anesthetist walks in and without so much as a hello started tapping my forearm to find a suitable vein. I try to greet him but all that comes out is a horrible squawk.

I am relieved of my meager garment and I lay there, alone and naked. I look down in horror to see that my penis and testicles have completely withdrawn into my abdomen. Perhaps they had seen it first and were trying to warn me because there, on a stainless steel tray, nestled amongst strange looking devices is the object of my apprehension. It is some sort of anal battering ram. It is stainless steel and is about a foot long. It has two handles bolted to it. And for all the world it looked like one of those Stanley thermoses.

By this time, a vein had been found and been hooked up to the Anesthetist. He still hasn't said anything so I find my voice. "How about a little valium to get thing started." He surprises me by speaking perfect English. "Here;" he said,"Try this" and injects something into the hookup that *IMMEDIATELY* makes me feel secure and right at home. No more problems. I chuckle at the prospect of the stainless invader.

As this all was happening, the nurses were quite busy. They had stainless steel poles that they were affixing to the sides of the operating table. On top of these poles were large plastic blocks that were deeply indented to accommodate what could only be my thighs. A more compromising version of the stirrups that doctors often use to examine women. And truly, the video has born my theory out. My buttring is bright, exposed, and nearly eye level to the wielder of the dilation tool.

The chief dilator strolls in, and nods at the anesthetist.

The latter hooks up a large syringe full of what looked like vaseline to my I.V. line and says "See you later." I remember trying to fight it just to see if I could. I couldn't. I remember having a monster head rush and trying to speak. That's the last thing that I remember.

It's only now that I review the video tape that I realize the horror of what actually happened to me.

It's strange to see yourself lying on a cold slab, your penis retracted, falling unconscious. Right after I go out, a nurse puts a black rubber mask over my face. Two attendants raise my thighs into the "stirrups" and scrunch me down so that my ankles are bent straight back towards my head. The camera angle is from straight overhead, so you get a weird out of body feeling watching the whole thing. One nurse manipulates what's left of my genitals out of the way while another unceremoniously paints my asshole with some sort of red tinted disinfectant.

The doctor wastes no time and before you can say "Is he asleep?" has two of his fingers deep into my ass. He checks around and during the examination gives my prostate a mighty push. I swear that I shoot a load of something straight onto my belly where it just sits there through the rest of the procedure. The doctor gives a grunt of satisfaction and reaches for the dilator.

Nurses squirt some kind of lubricant from a large syringe into and around my ass. The surgeon then inserts the end of the dilation unit into my ass and begins rotating it left and right.

Soon he had my poor asshole fully dilated. And I mean *DILATED*. There I am out like a light with a stainless steel thermos up my ass. Every thirty seconds or so the doctor does a 360 with the thing.

Everyone is looking pretty bored, especially me.

After about 1/2 hour of this, the doctor removes the dilator and PUTS HIS ENTIRE HAND UP MY ASS. This is the best part of the video. If you have had a few drinks and squint a little it looks for a moment like some kind of bizarre bondage/fisting film.

A satisfied nod and the nurses move in for the clean up.

Someone has the presence of mind to wipe the manually ejaculated fluid off of my belly. Someone swabs the shit and blood from my ass.

I get another syringe of something in my arm. The mask comes off my face. A nurse shakes me gently and my eyes flutter open. "Is it over?" I ask with wondrous shining eyes. Lots of nods around the room. "I dreamed" I say. "Wow, I feel fine!"

End of video.

They wheel me into the recovery room where I try to sit up. I carefully reach down in a cautious exploration of my asshole.

It is confounded with a giant tampon like stuffing. "Uh oh" I think to myself and try to ignore it. It's only later when they pull the stuffing out do I realize the full extent of what's happened.

Anyway, a little later I eat some soup and vomit it back up right away. The vomit is a vile green.

The next day, I took the first effortless shit that I had in sometime. Oh joy! Oh nirvana.

After the surgery, Bob was still his usual self. In fact, he was more terrible than usual. He had expected sudden death and when he awoke, believing that he had survived a professional ass (hehe) ass (hehe) ination attempt he was even more pissed off and motivated then before. He had felt betrayed, and had amused himself for the first several days after the procedure by visiting a torturous itching upon me, his host.

The hard part about his slow strangulation is that I can feel him dying. He groans and complains like any other terminal patient. I must take him with me wherever I go. We are like the Siamese twins Chang and Eng. Can I survive without my symbiotic buddy?

Well, at least fire and blood won't shoot out of my ass every time that I try to pop a stubborn grogan. I will no longer know the joys of crying real tears when I shit. For a long time I was told that painful elimination was unnatural. Now, I truly understand.

Now, two weeks later Bob is only a faint echo of his former self. He is still hanging onto life, but only just. He is still there, and ugly slash of an anal fissure. But no longer red and pusy. The occasional itch. That is all. And even that is fading rapidly.

And oh yes....my butt hole has sprung back to a more manageable size. Your asshole really is an incredible machine.

I had a small dinner party on Christmas day. After dinner I put on the video. It took about twenty minutes before anyone realized that it was me. I guess they thought it was Nova or something. Ho Ho Ho.

Thank you for your interest in my anal fissure Bob.

 

[paphian]

Manhattan's largest, most prestigious bank has just opened one Friday morning when in walks a gorgeous blonde, dressed to kill in the latest designer fashions. A young bank vice president is instantly at her side, inquiring about what's brought her to the bank that morning.

"I need a loan," says the blonde.

Please step into my office, says the vice-president.

After she's seated, the VP sits behind his desk and proceeds to ask her the usual preliminary questions about how much she'll need, and the purpose of the loan. The blonde tells him she needs $10,000 for a short term loan to tak a vacation to Europe for two weeks.

The VP is a bit nervous about making a loan of that amount for a vacation with a new client and asks what she might have to use as collateral.

"You'll find my vintage Rolls Royce parked at the curb," says the blonde. "Here are the keys."

The Vp calls an appraiser over, hands him the keys and sends him out. The appraiser quickly returns, confirming the car's vintage and condition. The VP approves the loan, and has an assistant park the car in the banks secure parking garage. while a the teller counts out the woman's money. The blonde smiles and thanks him and departs with her cash

Two weeks later, the blonde once again enters the bank, and hands the VP a check for $10,008.29--the exact amount of the loan's repayment, including the two week's accumulated interest.

The VP says, "While you were gone we checked the credit references you gave us. You're one of the wealthiest women in New York City. Why would you need to borrow $10,000 for a two-week vacation?"

As she takes her keys from the stunned banker, the blonde favors the man with a huge smile and says, "How else could I get absolutely secure parking for a vintage Rolls in Manhattan for two weeks for only $8.29?"

 

[lips_222]

the internet is like a Penis..

* It can be up or down. It's more fun when it's up, but it
makes it hard to get any real work done.

* In the long-distant past, its only purpose was to transmit
information considered 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 for fun most of the time.

* It has no conscience and no memory. Left to its own devices,
it will just do the same damn dumb things it did before.

* It provides a way to interact with other people. Some
people take this interaction very seriously, others treat
it as a lark. Sometimes it's hard to tell what kind of
person you're dealing with until it's too late.

* If you don't apply the appropriate protective measures, it
can spread viruses.

* It has no brain of its own. Instead, it uses yours. If you
use it too much, you'll find it becomes more and more difficult
to think coherently.

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

* If you're not careful what you do with it, it can get
you in big trouble.

* It has its own agenda. Somehow, no matter how good your
intentions, it will warp your behavior. Later you may ask
yourself "why on earth did I do that?"

* Some folks have it, some don't.

* Those who have it would be devastated if it were ever
cut off. They think that those who don't have it are
somehow inferior. They think it gives them power.
They are wrong.

* Those who don't have it may agree that it's a nifty toy,
but think it's not worth the fuss that those who do have it
make about it. Still, many of those who don't have it would
like to try it.

* Once you've started playing with it, it's hard to stop.
Some people would just play with it all day if they didn't
have work to do.

 

[lips_222]

Animal!

Ha Ha

 

[lips_222]

enjoy