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Author Topic: Jokes from my trashbin  (Read 201483 times)

Con ate dog

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Jokes from my trashbin
« on: April 16, 2007, 04:17:38 AM »
How many men does it take to change a lightbulb?

None.  Real men aren't afraid of the dark.

Okay, haven't received any e-jokes lately, but I'm as vain as the next guy, and I want credit for starting this thread.

Anybody got a semi-good joke?
And there is no liar like the indignant man... -Nietszche

Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task. -William James

englishmoose.com

teleplayer

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #1 on: April 17, 2007, 04:12:24 PM »
How many men does it take to change a lightbulb?

None.  Real men aren't afraid of the dark.

Okay, haven't received any e-jokes lately, but I'm as vain as the next guy, and I want credit for starting this thread.

Anybody got a semi-good joke?

Congrats, Con. You got first post!!
It's an old "blond" joke but not a total "groaner."

Once upon a time, a blonde became so sick of hearing blonde jokes that she had her hair cut and dyed brown.

A few days later, as she was out driving around the countryside, she stopped her car to let a flock of sheep pass.

Admiring the cute wooly creatures, she said to the shepherd, "If I can guess how many sheep you have, can I take one?"

The shepherd, always the gentleman, said, "Sure!"

The blonde thought for a moment and, for no discernible reason, said, "352."

This being the correct number, the shepherd was, understandably, totally amazed, and exclaimed, "You're right! O.K., I'll keep to my end of the deal. Take your pick of my flock."

The blonde carefully considered the entire flock and finally picked the one that was by far cuter and more playful than any of the others.

When she was done, the shepherd turned to her and said, "O.K., now I have a proposition for you. If I can guess your true hair color, can I have my dog back?"

teleplayer

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #2 on: April 17, 2007, 04:15:54 PM »
Oh, I posted on other site but why not keep it moving.

Subject: Who is working in USA?


Who's working anyway?

The population of this country is 300 million.

160 million are retired.

That leaves 140 million to do the work.

There are 85 million in school.

Which leaves 55 million to do the work.

Of this there are 35 million employed by the federal government.

Leaving 15 million to do the work.

2.8 million are in the armed forces preoccupied with killing Osama Bin-Laden.

Which leaves 12.2 million to do the work.

Take from that total the 10.8 million people who work for state and city governments.

And that leaves 1.4 million to do the work.

At any given time there are 188,000 people in hospitals.

Leaving 1,212,000 to do the work.

Now, there are 1,211,998 people in prisons.

That leaves just two people to do the work.

You and me.

And there you are, sitting on your ass, at your computer, reading jokes.

Nice. Real nice.

teleplayer

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #3 on: April 18, 2007, 05:43:44 PM »
I sure hope this works for those of you in China.

"Peep" show.
http://tinyurl.com/2co752

George

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #4 on: April 18, 2007, 08:55:45 PM »
"Peeps" are marshmallows??.or jelly beans???
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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #5 on: April 18, 2007, 10:22:03 PM »
"Peeps" are marshmallows??.or jelly beans???

Those yukkie marshmallow things that never die.

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #6 on: April 18, 2007, 11:17:07 PM »
Why is Duct Tape like "the Force" (as in "Star Wars)?"











It has a light side and a dark side and it holds the universe together. bpbpbpbpbp

Lone Traveller

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #7 on: April 19, 2007, 04:59:53 AM »
 bibibibibi
Courage is not the absense of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear.

George

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #8 on: April 19, 2007, 09:31:37 PM »
A man's car broke down as he was driving past a beautiful, old monastery. He walked up the drive and knocked on the front door of the monastery. A monk answered, listened to the man's story and graciously invited him to spend the night.

The monks fed the man and led him to a tiny chamber in which to sleep. The man thanked the monks and slept serenely until he was awakened by a strange, beautiful sound. The next morning, as the monks repaired his car, he asked about the sound that woke him. The monks said, We're sorry. We can't tell you about the sound. You're not a monk. The man was disappointed, but eager to be gone, so he thanked the monks for their kindness and went on his way. During quiet moments afterward, the man pondered the source of the alluring sound.

Several years later, the man was driving in the same area. He stopped at the monastery on a whim and asked admittance. He explained to the monks that he had so enjoyed his previous stay, he wondered if he might be permitted to spend another night under their peaceful roof. The monks agreed and the man stayed. Late that night, he heard the sound again. The next morning, he begged the monks to explain the sound. The monks said, "We're sorry. We can't tell you about the sound. You're not a monk. "

By now, the man's curiosity had turned to obsession. He decided to give up everything and become a monk if that was the only way to learn about the sound. He informed the monks of his decision and began the long and arduous task of becoming a monk.

Seventeen years later, the man was finally established as a true member of the order. When the celebration ended, he humbly went to the leader of the order and asked to be told the source of the sound. Silently, the old monk led the new monk to a huge wooden door. He opened the door with a golden key. That door swung open to reveal a second door of silver, then a third of gold and so on until they had passed through twelve doors, each more magnificent than the last. The new monk's face was awash with tears of joy as he finally beheld the wondrous source of the mysterious sound he had heard so many years before....

...but I can't tell you what it was. You're not a monk.
The higher they fly, the fewer!    http://neilson.aminus3.com/

George

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #9 on: April 19, 2007, 09:56:09 PM »
Not really a joke, but amazingly ironic!!

The higher they fly, the fewer!    http://neilson.aminus3.com/

Lone Traveller

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #10 on: April 20, 2007, 02:45:22 AM »
Oh dear!
Courage is not the absense of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear.

AMonk

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #11 on: April 20, 2007, 08:46:29 AM »
A man's car broke down as he was driving past a beautiful, old monastery. He walked up the drive and knocked on the front door of the monastery. A monk answered, listened to the man's story and graciously invited him to spend the night.

The monks fed the man and led him to a tiny chamber in which to sleep. The man thanked the monks and slept serenely until he was awakened by a strange, beautiful sound. The next morning, as the monks repaired his car, he asked about the sound that woke him. The monks said, We're sorry. We can't tell you about the sound. You're not a monk. The man was disappointed, but eager to be gone, so he thanked the monks for their kindness and went on his way. During quiet moments afterward, the man pondered the source of the alluring sound.

Several years later, the man was driving in the same area. He stopped at the monastery on a whim and asked admittance. He explained to the monks that he had so enjoyed his previous stay, he wondered if he might be permitted to spend another night under their peaceful roof. The monks agreed and the man stayed. Late that night, he heard the sound again. The next morning, he begged the monks to explain the sound. The monks said, "We're sorry. We can't tell you about the sound. You're not a monk. "

By now, the man's curiosity had turned to obsession. He decided to give up everything and become a monk if that was the only way to learn about the sound. He informed the monks of his decision and began the long and arduous task of becoming a monk.

Seventeen years later, the man was finally established as a true member of the order. When the celebration ended, he humbly went to the leader of the order and asked to be told the source of the sound. Silently, the old monk led the new monk to a huge wooden door. He opened the door with a golden key. That door swung open to reveal a second door of silver, then a third of gold and so on until they had passed through twelve doors, each more magnificent than the last. The new monk's face was awash with tears of joy as he finally beheld the wondrous source of the mysterious sound he had heard so many years before....

...but I can't tell you what it was. You're not a monk.


....But George...I AM AMonk....you can tell me!!
Moderation....in most things...

George

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #12 on: April 20, 2007, 09:09:22 AM »
Quote
But George...I AM AMonk....you can tell me!!
I knew this was gunna happen!! Unfortunately, I am not a monk, so I don't actually know! Sorry!!!!! bibibibibi
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Bugalugs

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #13 on: April 24, 2007, 09:23:19 AM »
Why Women get CRANKY!!!!!


We start to "bud" in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to find anything that comes in contact with those tender, blooming buds hurts so bad it brings us to tears. Enter the almighty, uncomfortable training bra contraption the boys in school will snap until we have calluses on our backs.

Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with those budding boobs, we now bloat, we cramp, we get the hormone crankies, have to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn't even know we had.

Our next little rite of passage (premarital or not) is having sex for the first time, which is about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils (IF he did it right and didn't end up with his little cart before his horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.

Then it's off to Motherhood where we learn to live on dry crackers and water for a few months so we don't spend the entire day leaning over Brother John. Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learn to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards night and day, making us wonder if we're having Rosemary's Baby. Our once flat bellies now look like we swallowed a watermelon whole and we pee our pants every time we sneeze. (The latter condition never goes away, either...lots of times, neither does the former.)

When the big moment arrives, the dam in our blessed Nether Regions will invariably burst right in the middle of the mall and we'll waddle with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain all the way to the ER. Then it's huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says, "Please stop screaming, Mrs. Hearmeroar. Calm down and push. Just one or (or 10) good push," warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the bastard (and hubby) square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10 lb. bowing ball through a keyhole.

After that, it's time to raise those angels, only to find that when all that "cute" wears off, the beautiful little darlings morph into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.

The teen years. Need I say more?

The kids are almost grown now and we women hit our voracious sexual prime in our mid-30's to early 40's while hubby had his somewhere around his 18th birthday (which just happens to be the reason all that early, hot, man sex got you pregnant in the first place).

Now we hit the grand finale: Menopause. The Grandmother of all womanhood. It's either take the HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned "buds" or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or sweat like a hog in July, wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off of anything that moves.

Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men when men get off so easy INCLUDING the icing on life's cake: Being able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks...

Now, I love being a woman but "Womanhood" would make the Great Ghandi a tad crabby.

Women are the weaker sex?

Yeah, right. Bite me.
Good girls are made from sugar and spice, I am made from Vodka and ice

Do you have and ID Ten T error??

AMonk

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Re: Jokes from my trashbin
« Reply #14 on: April 24, 2007, 10:18:33 AM »
3 old men are walking down the road.

"Windy today, isn't it?" mentions the first.
"No.  It's Thursday," says the second.
"Me, too.  There's a bar over there.  Let's go," suggests the third.
Moderation....in most things...