Post your jokes and humor here.

  • Thread starter Thread starter Voodooo
  • Start date Start date
Mike40M said:
Here in Sweden it's quite common to hear jokes about our neighbours from Norway.
How many Norwegians is needed to change a faulty ceiling lamp bulb?
7. One standing on the table holding the bulb. 6 turning the table.
Click to expand...
OK, so can anyone come up with some bike-related versions, coz I have never heard any??
 
Not necessarily blonde, but...

The professor was lecturing about "Involuntary Muscle Contractions" when he noticed no one paying attention.

Angrily, he asked a girl on the front row, "Young lady, do you have any idea what your asshole is doing while you are having an orgasm"?

"Why yes", she answered. " He is usually out in the garage polishing his Harley".
 
Maybe closer to the mark...

Ollie the Icelander saves up for a few years and finally buys the bike of his dreams, He goes out for many long rides and enjoys him self fully. One horrible day his bike breaks down. The bike is taken to the shop and a mechanic looks it over. He walks over to an expectant Ollie and says. Looks Like you blew a seal, Ollie says No, No way Thats Just Ice In My Beard.
 
Post your jokes and humor here.
 
FW: Are you having a jellyfish day?



This is even funnier when you realize it's real! Next time you have a bad
day at work, think of this guy. Rob is a commercial saturation diver for
Global Divers in Louisiana. He performs underwater repairs on offshore
drilling rigs. Below is an E-mail he sent to his sister.

She then sent it to a radio station in Ft. Wayne, Indiana, that was
sponsoring a 'worst job experience' contest. Needless to say, she won.

Hi Sue,

Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad
day at the office.
I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would
share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all.
Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a
few technicalities of my job.
As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to
the office.It's a wetsuit. This time of year the water is quite cool.

So what we do to keep warm is this:

We have a diesel-powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of
equipment sucks the water out of the sea, heats it to a delightful
temperature, then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose which
is taped to the air hose.

Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've used it several times
with no complaints.

What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose
and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit. This floods my whole suit with
warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi. Everything was going well until
all of a sudden, my bum started to itch.

So, of course, I scratched it This only made things worse.

Within a few seconds my bum started to burn!
I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done.

In agony I realized what had happened. The hot water machine had sucked
up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit.

Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't
stick to it.

However, the crack of my bum was not as fortunate.

When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the
jellyfish into the crack of my bum.

I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator.
His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five
other divers, were all laughing hysterically.

Needless to say I aborted the dive.

I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops
totalling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin
my chamber dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing
nothing but my brass helmet.

As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running
down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my bum
as soon as I got in the chamber.

The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poo for two days because my
bum was swollen shut.

So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much
worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your ar*e.

Now repeat to yourself, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.

Remember whenever you have a bad day, ask yourself, is this a jellyfish
bad day?

May you NEVER have a jellyfish bad day!!!!!
 
The Divorced Barbie Doll


> One day a father gets out of work and on his way home

he suddenly remembers that it's his daughter's birthday.
> He pulls over to a Toy Shop and asks the sales person,

"How much for one of those Barbie's in the display window?"
>
> The salesperson answers, "Which one do you mean, Sir?"
>
> We have: Work Out Barbie for $19.95, Shopping Barbie for $19.95,

Beach Barbie for $19.95, Disco Barbie for $19.95, Ballerina Barbie for $19.95,

Astronaut Barbie for $19.95, Skater Barbie for $19.95, and

Divorced Barbie for $265.95".
>
> The amazed father asks: "It's what?!

Why is the Divorced Barbie $265.95 and the others only $19.95?"

The annoyed salesperson rolls her eyes, sighs, and answers:

"Sir..., Divorced Barbie comes with: Ken's Car, Ken's House, Ken's Boat, Ken's Furniture, Ken's Computer, one of Ken's Friends, and a key chain made with Ken's balls."
 
A very attractive lady went up to the bar in a quiet pub. She gestured alluringly to the bartender who came over immediately. When he arrived, she signalled him to bring his face closer to hers. When he did she began to gently caress his full beard.

"Are you the manager?" she asked, softly stroking his face with both hands.

"Actually, no." the surprised bartender replied.

"Can you get him for me? I need to speak with him,” she purred, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair.

"I-I'm afraid I can't," breathed the bartender. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes, there is. I need you to give him a message," she continued, running her forefinger across the bartender's lips and slyly popping a couple of her fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently.

"W-W-What should I tell him?" the bartender barely managed to say.

"Tell him," she whispered, "there is no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper towel in the ladies room.”
 
If you hate your job, try this out.

Stop at your pharmacy and look for a Johnson & Johnson rectal thermometer. Be very sure you get this brand.

When you get home, lock your doors and close your curtains. Also turn off your phone so you will not be disturbed.

Change into comfortable clothing and sit in your favourite chair. Open the package and rmove the thermometer. Then carefully place it on a table or surface so that it will not become chipped or broken.

Now the fun part begins…

Take out the literature from the box and read it carefully. You will notice that, in small print,there is a statement:

“Every rectal thermometer made by Johnson & Johnson is personally tested then sanitised.”

Now, close your eyes and repeat out loud five times, “I am so glad I do not work in the thermometer quality control department at Johnson & Johnson.”
 
The writer of this piece paints a very vivid picture...

> funny stuff. You will laugh - guaranteed! ENJOY!!



> I went to Bunnings recently while not being altogether sure that

> course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had

> prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'you're

> definitely going to s**t yourself' road-kill chilli. Tasty stuff,

> albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written

> guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your butt

> cheeks WILL fall off.

> Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups

> of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No

> 'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite habanera peppers swimming their way

> through my intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning

> symphony referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.

> Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just

> when, I bravely set off for Bunnings, my quest being paint and

> supplies to refinish the den. Upon entering the store at first all

> seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping

> items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of

> the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me.

> Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm

> referring to that 'Uh, Oh, Shit, gotta go' pain that always seems to

> hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The

> habaneras in the chilli from the night before were staging a revolt.

> In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small

> intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I

> could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would

> bring sweet relief, it happened.

> The peppers fired a warning shot.

> There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly

> enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been

> recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me.

> Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of

> my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as a red

> aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any help.

> I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his

> reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to

> dissipate.. Have you ever been torn in two different directions

> emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at least

> will be able to relate. I could've warned that poor clerk, but

> didn't. I simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and

> apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could

> do before gathering his senses and running, was to stand there

> blinking and waving his arms about his head as though trying to ward

> off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made

> me laugh.

> .......BIG mistake!!!!!

> Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped

> down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive

> issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing

> that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing

> that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun. Suddenly

> things were no longer funny. 'It' was coming, and I raced off through

> the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way,

> praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.

> Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john,

> began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat

> because my ass is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in

> while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and

> Awe'. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, 'Son-of-a-bitch!,

> did it smell that bad when you ate it?', then quickly left.

> Once finished and I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled

> cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee

> approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few

> minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store.

> The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two

> which ought to take care of the problem.'

> My smirking of course set me off again, causing residual gases to

> escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt

> up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner

> shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning moments later with the

> manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked

> none too kindly not to return.
 
Due to the rising cost of medical tests, all you can do is pee under a tree and wait for a bit.

If ants gather, you've got diabetes.

If the grass dries up, it's high salt.

If it smells like a BBQ your cholesterol's high.

And if you forgot to pull up your pants, you've got Alzheimer's.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top