- Status
One at each time if somebody complain just apology and re edit it with xxxxxxx.Is black humour allowed? That's the only jokes i know!
A joke is a Joke
outside!
rants, hot debates, controversial subjects and any iffy material go here please. But remember: No direct insults.....no racist / bigot remarks.....no anti- any particular religion.....and no foul language / 4-letter words.
______10
Please tell me that is a prank letter! Mickey Ds always effs up my orders at the drive thru!
A blonde goes to a doctor and says "Everywhere I touch myself. it hurts.
When I touch my rib, it hurts. *touches rib and winces*.
When I touch my foot, it hurts." *touches foot and winces*
The doctor drew his breath replied, "Your finger's broken."
When I touch my rib, it hurts. *touches rib and winces*.
When I touch my foot, it hurts." *touches foot and winces*
The doctor drew his breath replied, "Your finger's broken."
Jesus is having dinner at Denny's. An arthritic man spots Jesus and asks the waitress is that is indeed Jesus, and she replies affirmatively. "Please send Jesus a piece of pie and put it on my bill" the man instructs the waitress. Jesus receives the pie, smiles and nods at the man, who is instantly cured and does a little dance on his way out of Denny's.
A crippled woman sees this miracle and tells the waitress to give her Jesus' bill. Jesus smiles and she throws down her crutches and jogs to the cashier.
A redneck is watching all of this. As Jesus passes the redneck's table, he smiles and reaches to touch the man.
The redneck recoils from Jesus and shouts "NO! Don't touch me! I'm drawing disability."
A crippled woman sees this miracle and tells the waitress to give her Jesus' bill. Jesus smiles and she throws down her crutches and jogs to the cashier.
A redneck is watching all of this. As Jesus passes the redneck's table, he smiles and reaches to touch the man.
The redneck recoils from Jesus and shouts "NO! Don't touch me! I'm drawing disability."
Ha thanks Mischief
That might just be the funnest joke here.
So a lady police officer pulled over and female driver. At the window the officer asks for her drivers license. After watching the women fumble around for a few minutes the officer speaks up. “It’s shaped like a square and it has a picture of you". Instantly the woman knows what the officer is asking for and reaches in to her purse and pulls out her make-up mirror. The officer takes 1 look at the mirror and says “Sorry to bother you I didn't know you were a officer"
That might just be the funnest joke here.
So a lady police officer pulled over and female driver. At the window the officer asks for her drivers license. After watching the women fumble around for a few minutes the officer speaks up. “It’s shaped like a square and it has a picture of you". Instantly the woman knows what the officer is asking for and reaches in to her purse and pulls out her make-up mirror. The officer takes 1 look at the mirror and says “Sorry to bother you I didn't know you were a officer"
A country doctor is called to a redneck's home in the middle of the night to deliver a baby. He asks the redneck husband to help by holding the lantern.
A baby soon appears and the doctor announces a son.
Soon, another baby appears and the doctor announces a daughter.
As the doctor is about to stand up, he notices movement down there and leans back down, instructing the redneck to move the lantern closer.
"NO!" the redneck shouts at the doctor, and pulls the lantern away. "It's the light! They're attracted to the light!"
A baby soon appears and the doctor announces a son.
Soon, another baby appears and the doctor announces a daughter.
As the doctor is about to stand up, he notices movement down there and leans back down, instructing the redneck to move the lantern closer.
"NO!" the redneck shouts at the doctor, and pulls the lantern away. "It's the light! They're attracted to the light!"
Quick editing on the following jokes If I missed words i really do apologize about to leave work and wanted to get these posted.
Dave was bragging to his boss one day, "You know, I know everyone there is to know. Just name someone, anyone, and I know them."
Tired of his boasting, his boss called his bluff, "OK, Dave, how about Tom Cruise?"
"No dramas boss, Tom and I are old friends, and I can prove it."
So Dave and his boss fly out to Hollywood and knock on Tom Cruise's door, and Tom Cruise shouts, "Dave! What's happening? Great to see you! Come on in for a beer!"
Although impressed, Dave's boss is still sceptical. After they leave Cruise's house, he tells Dave that he thinks him knowing Cruise was just lucky.
"No, no, just name anyone else," Dave says.
"President Bush," his boss quickly retorts. "Yup," Dave says, "Old buddies, let's fly out to Washington and off they go. At the White House, Bush spots Dave on the tour and motions him and his boss over, saying, "Dave, what a surprise, I was just on my way to a meeting, but you and your friend come on in and let's have a cup of coffee first and catch up."
Well, the boss is very shaken by now but
still not totally convinced. After they leave the White House grounds he expresses his doubts to Dave, who again implores him to name anyone else.
"The Pope," his boss replies.
"Sure!" says Dave. "I've known the Pope for years." So off they fly to Rome.
Dave and his boss are assembled with the masses at the Vatican's St. Peter's Square when Dave says, "This will never work. I can't catch the Pope's eye among all these people. Tell you what, I know all the guards so let me just go upstairs and I'll come out on the balcony with the Pope."
He disappears into the crowd headed towards the Vatican.
Sure enough, half an hour later Dave emerges with the Pope on the balcony, but by the time Dave returns, he finds that his boss has had a heart attack and is surrounded by paramedics.
Making his way to his boss' side, Dave asks him, "What happened?"
His boss looks up and says, "It was the final straw ... you and the Pope came out on to the balcony and the man next to me said, 'Who the ....... is that on the balcony with Dave?'"
Dave was bragging to his boss one day, "You know, I know everyone there is to know. Just name someone, anyone, and I know them."
Tired of his boasting, his boss called his bluff, "OK, Dave, how about Tom Cruise?"
"No dramas boss, Tom and I are old friends, and I can prove it."
So Dave and his boss fly out to Hollywood and knock on Tom Cruise's door, and Tom Cruise shouts, "Dave! What's happening? Great to see you! Come on in for a beer!"
Although impressed, Dave's boss is still sceptical. After they leave Cruise's house, he tells Dave that he thinks him knowing Cruise was just lucky.
"No, no, just name anyone else," Dave says.
"President Bush," his boss quickly retorts. "Yup," Dave says, "Old buddies, let's fly out to Washington and off they go. At the White House, Bush spots Dave on the tour and motions him and his boss over, saying, "Dave, what a surprise, I was just on my way to a meeting, but you and your friend come on in and let's have a cup of coffee first and catch up."
Well, the boss is very shaken by now but
still not totally convinced. After they leave the White House grounds he expresses his doubts to Dave, who again implores him to name anyone else.
"The Pope," his boss replies.
"Sure!" says Dave. "I've known the Pope for years." So off they fly to Rome.
Dave and his boss are assembled with the masses at the Vatican's St. Peter's Square when Dave says, "This will never work. I can't catch the Pope's eye among all these people. Tell you what, I know all the guards so let me just go upstairs and I'll come out on the balcony with the Pope."
He disappears into the crowd headed towards the Vatican.
Sure enough, half an hour later Dave emerges with the Pope on the balcony, but by the time Dave returns, he finds that his boss has had a heart attack and is surrounded by paramedics.
Making his way to his boss' side, Dave asks him, "What happened?"
His boss looks up and says, "It was the final straw ... you and the Pope came out on to the balcony and the man next to me said, 'Who the ....... is that on the balcony with Dave?'"
Same as above if i missed some distinct 4 letter words I apologize.
Not too long ago, I saw something at the gun and pawn shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 10th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife.
What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long term
adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety.
Needless to say, this was way too cool. Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the thing and pushed the button. Nothing!
I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get a blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. Awesome! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to my wife what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.
Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two AAA batteries, right? Yah.
There I sat in my recliner, my cat looking on intently, the trusting little soul, while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Kitty for a fraction of a second, but thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat and, as most of you already know, hell hath no fury like a cat ...... off. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?
So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries thinking to myself "no flippin' way!" What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.
I'm sitting there alone, the cat looking on with her head tilted to one side as if to say, "don't do it, master," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing ouldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION, CRAP ON A STICK!
I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up, body slammed me on the carpet over and over and over again and then slammed the recliner over my head as a chaser. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs. The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "Do it again, do it again!"
Please take this from the voice of experience - there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor! Three second burst would be considered conservative. A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape.
My bent and forlorn reading glasses were hanging miserably on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and judging by how my jaw hung listlessly, my bottom lip must have weighed 88 lbs.
By the way, at this point my testicles, feeling like they withdrew into my body somewhere around my ribcage, are still waiting for the all clear signal to emerge from the bomb shelter. Now I know how Tom Hanks' character felt when he had to go search for Private Ryan. I felt like I should offer a significant reward for their safe return.
Even now, I experience shrinkage when I plug anything into the socket.
If you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser to test it, take my advice !
Repeat after me...here, kitty kitty
Not too long ago, I saw something at the gun and pawn shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 10th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife.
What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long term
adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety.
Needless to say, this was way too cool. Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the thing and pushed the button. Nothing!
I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get a blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. Awesome! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to my wife what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.
Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two AAA batteries, right? Yah.
There I sat in my recliner, my cat looking on intently, the trusting little soul, while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Kitty for a fraction of a second, but thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat and, as most of you already know, hell hath no fury like a cat ...... off. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?
So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries thinking to myself "no flippin' way!" What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.
I'm sitting there alone, the cat looking on with her head tilted to one side as if to say, "don't do it, master," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing ouldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION, CRAP ON A STICK!
I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up, body slammed me on the carpet over and over and over again and then slammed the recliner over my head as a chaser. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs. The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "Do it again, do it again!"
Please take this from the voice of experience - there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor! Three second burst would be considered conservative. A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape.
My bent and forlorn reading glasses were hanging miserably on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and judging by how my jaw hung listlessly, my bottom lip must have weighed 88 lbs.
By the way, at this point my testicles, feeling like they withdrew into my body somewhere around my ribcage, are still waiting for the all clear signal to emerge from the bomb shelter. Now I know how Tom Hanks' character felt when he had to go search for Private Ryan. I felt like I should offer a significant reward for their safe return.
Even now, I experience shrinkage when I plug anything into the socket.
If you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser to test it, take my advice !
Repeat after me...here, kitty kitty
Do You Know Jack Schitt?
Jack Schitt is the only son of Awe Schitt and O. Schitt. Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, married O. Schitt, the owner of the Knee-deep N Schitt Inn. In turn, Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt, and couple produced 6 children: Holy Schitt, their first, passed on shortly after childbirth. Next came two daughter's, Deep Schitt and Dip Schitt; twin sons, Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt; and another son, Bull Schitt.
Against her parents' objections, Deep Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school drop out. Dip Schitt married Loada Schitt and they produced a faint-hearted son, Chicken Schitt. Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt were inseparable throughout childhood and subsequently married the Happens sisters in a dual ceremony. The wedding announcement in the newspaper announced the Schitt-Happens wedding. The Schitt-Happens children were Dawg Schitt, Byrd Schitt, and Hoarse Schitt. Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world. He recently returned from Italy with his new bride, a spicy little number named, Pisa Schitt, and they are proudly awaiting the arrival of Baby Schitt.
After being married 15 years, Jack and Noe Schitt divorced. Noe Schitt later married Mr. Sherlock, and because her kids were living with them, and she wanted to keep her previous name: Noe Schitt-Sherlock.
Now I know that's a Lotta Schitts to remember, but now when someone says, "You don't know Jack Schitt", you can correct them.
Jack Schitt is the only son of Awe Schitt and O. Schitt. Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, married O. Schitt, the owner of the Knee-deep N Schitt Inn. In turn, Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt, and couple produced 6 children: Holy Schitt, their first, passed on shortly after childbirth. Next came two daughter's, Deep Schitt and Dip Schitt; twin sons, Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt; and another son, Bull Schitt.
Against her parents' objections, Deep Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school drop out. Dip Schitt married Loada Schitt and they produced a faint-hearted son, Chicken Schitt. Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt were inseparable throughout childhood and subsequently married the Happens sisters in a dual ceremony. The wedding announcement in the newspaper announced the Schitt-Happens wedding. The Schitt-Happens children were Dawg Schitt, Byrd Schitt, and Hoarse Schitt. Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world. He recently returned from Italy with his new bride, a spicy little number named, Pisa Schitt, and they are proudly awaiting the arrival of Baby Schitt.
After being married 15 years, Jack and Noe Schitt divorced. Noe Schitt later married Mr. Sherlock, and because her kids were living with them, and she wanted to keep her previous name: Noe Schitt-Sherlock.
Now I know that's a Lotta Schitts to remember, but now when someone says, "You don't know Jack Schitt", you can correct them.
I know these are long guys but WELL worth the read missed words again im sorry speed reading 3 more minutes and 1 more joke after this one.
The notes are from an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting Texas from the East Coast:
Frank: "Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off.
The Judge #3 called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to the Budweiser truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted".
Here are the scorecards from the event:
Chili # 1 Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili
Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
Judge # 3 -- (Frank) Holy ...., what the h*** is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.
Chili # 2 Arthur's Afterburner Chili
Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.
Chili # 3 Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili
Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.
Judge # 2 -- A bean less chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.
Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting ....-faced from all of the beer.
Chili # 4 Bubba's Black Magic
Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-LB. ....* is starting to look HOT . . . just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?
Chili # 5 Linda's Legal Lip Remover
Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really p***** me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks!
Chili # 6 Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety
Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge #3-- I .... myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that .... Sally. She must be kinkier than I thought. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my ... with a snow cone.
Chili # 7 Susan's Screaming Sensation Chili
Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should take note that I am worried about Judge #3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava like poop to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing, it's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.
Chili # 8 Tommy's Toe-Nail Curling Chili
Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge # 3 passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor dude, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili?
but WELL worth the read missed words again im sorry speed reading 3 more minutes and 1 more joke after this one.The notes are from an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting Texas from the East Coast:
Frank: "Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off.
The Judge #3 called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to the Budweiser truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted".
Here are the scorecards from the event:
Chili # 1 Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili
Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
Judge # 3 -- (Frank) Holy ...., what the h*** is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.
Chili # 2 Arthur's Afterburner Chili
Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.
Chili # 3 Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili
Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.
Judge # 2 -- A bean less chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.
Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting ....-faced from all of the beer.
Chili # 4 Bubba's Black Magic
Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-LB. ....* is starting to look HOT . . . just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?
Chili # 5 Linda's Legal Lip Remover
Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really p***** me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks!
Chili # 6 Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety
Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge #3-- I .... myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that .... Sally. She must be kinkier than I thought. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my ... with a snow cone.
Chili # 7 Susan's Screaming Sensation Chili
Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should take note that I am worried about Judge #3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava like poop to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing, it's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.
Chili # 8 Tommy's Toe-Nail Curling Chili
Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge # 3 passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor dude, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili?
We have the standard 6 ft. fence in the backyard, and a few months ago, I heard about burglaries increasing dramatically in the entire city. To make sure this never happened to me I got an electric fence and ran a single wire along the top of the fence. Actually, I got the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had, made for 26 miles of fence.
I then used an 8 ft. long ground round, drove 7.5 feet into the ground. The ground rod is the key, with the more you have in the ground, the better the fence works.
One day I'm mowing the back yard with my cheapo Walmart 6 hp big wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower around the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of the way.
It seems as though I hadn't remembered to unplug it after all. Now I'm standing there, I've got the running lawnmower in my right hand and the 1.7 giga volt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover.
Time stood still.
The first thing I notice is my balls trying to climb up the front side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine. It seems as though the fence charger and the POS lawn mower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.
Science says you cannot crap, pee, and nut at the same time. I beg to differ.
Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than half of a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement, where time is creeping along and you're all leaned back and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 times.
It seemed like there were minutes in between but in reality it was so close together it was like exhaust pulses from a big block Chevy turning 8 grand. At this point I'm about 30 minutes (maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto the
fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I can't let go.
I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences...but Dad always had those POS chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled. This I could not let go of.
The 8 foot long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex river bottom soil.
At this point I'm thinking I'm going to have to just man up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas. 'Damn!' I think, as I remember I just filled the tank! Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. Covered in poop, pee, ...., and with my balls on my chest I think 'Oh God, please die... pleeeeze die'. But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner's right foot.
So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take me that day... he left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created...
I honestly don't know how I got loose from the wire.... I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It was later on in the day and I was sunburned. There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and then another long skinny dead spot were the wire had laid while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire.
Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep I realized a few things.
1- Three of my teeth seem to have melted.
2- I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right .... cheek (not the left, just the right).
3- Poop, pee, and semen when all mixed together, do not smell as bad as you might think.
4- My left eye will not open.
5- My right eye will not close.
6- The lawnmower runs like a sumnab**** now. Seriously! I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that.
7- My balls are still smaller than average yet they are almost a foot long
8- I can turn on the TV in the game room by farting while thinking of the number 4 (still don't understand this?)
That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things. I appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow.
The good news, is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence, I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him, and THAT gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which also reminds me to triple check before I mow.
I then used an 8 ft. long ground round, drove 7.5 feet into the ground. The ground rod is the key, with the more you have in the ground, the better the fence works.
One day I'm mowing the back yard with my cheapo Walmart 6 hp big wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower around the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of the way.
It seems as though I hadn't remembered to unplug it after all. Now I'm standing there, I've got the running lawnmower in my right hand and the 1.7 giga volt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover.
Time stood still.
The first thing I notice is my balls trying to climb up the front side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine. It seems as though the fence charger and the POS lawn mower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.
Science says you cannot crap, pee, and nut at the same time. I beg to differ.
Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than half of a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement, where time is creeping along and you're all leaned back and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 times.
It seemed like there were minutes in between but in reality it was so close together it was like exhaust pulses from a big block Chevy turning 8 grand. At this point I'm about 30 minutes (maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto the
fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I can't let go.
I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences...but Dad always had those POS chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled. This I could not let go of.
The 8 foot long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex river bottom soil.
At this point I'm thinking I'm going to have to just man up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas. 'Damn!' I think, as I remember I just filled the tank! Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. Covered in poop, pee, ...., and with my balls on my chest I think 'Oh God, please die... pleeeeze die'. But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner's right foot.
So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take me that day... he left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created...
I honestly don't know how I got loose from the wire.... I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It was later on in the day and I was sunburned. There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and then another long skinny dead spot were the wire had laid while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire.
Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep I realized a few things.
1- Three of my teeth seem to have melted.
2- I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right .... cheek (not the left, just the right).
3- Poop, pee, and semen when all mixed together, do not smell as bad as you might think.
4- My left eye will not open.
5- My right eye will not close.
6- The lawnmower runs like a sumnab**** now. Seriously! I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that.
7- My balls are still smaller than average yet they are almost a foot long
8- I can turn on the TV in the game room by farting while thinking of the number 4 (still don't understand this?)
That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things. I appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow.
The good news, is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence, I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him, and THAT gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which also reminds me to triple check before I mow.
WARNING : ONLY Read This WHEN You Are Able To
LAUGH OUT LOUD.
I went to Home Depot 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 .... yourself' road-kill chili. Tasty stuff, although 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 .... 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. Despite the chilies 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 Home Depot, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the deck. 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 toilets 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, ...., gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The chilies 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 toilets which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The chilies fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a toxic 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 an orange 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 toxic non-visible fog 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 toilet, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand explosion 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 ... 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-.....!, 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 aprom 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.
Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Lowe's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole matter. .......s claim they're going to have to repaint the store.
LAUGH OUT LOUD.
I went to Home Depot 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 .... yourself' road-kill chili. Tasty stuff, although 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 .... 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. Despite the chilies 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 Home Depot, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the deck. 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 toilets 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, ...., gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The chilies 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 toilets which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The chilies fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a toxic 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 an orange 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 toxic non-visible fog 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 toilet, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand explosion 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 ... 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-.....!, 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 aprom 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.
Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Lowe's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole matter. .......s claim they're going to have to repaint the store.
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