Joke of the Day

Gotcha.

I know.

 

Kinda long, but funny​

If Airlines Sold Paint

Customer: Hi. How much is your paint? ​

Clerk: Well, sir, that all depends on quite a lot of things. ​

Customer: Can you give me a guess? Is there an average price? ​

Clerk: Our lowest price is $12 a gallon, and we have 60 different prices up to $200 a gallon. ​

Customer: What's the difference in the paint? ​

Clerk: Oh, there isn't any difference; it's all the same paint. ​

Customer: Well, then I'd like some of that $12 paint. ​

Clerk: When do you intend to use the paint? ​

Customer: I want to paint tomorrow. It's my day off. ​

Clerk: Sir, the paint for tomorrow is the $200 paint. ​

Customer: When would I have to paint to get the $12 paint? ​

Clerk: You would have to start very late at night in about 3 weeks. But you will have to agree to start painting before Friday of that week and continue painting until at least Sunday. ​

Customer: You've got to be *&%^#@* kidding! ​

Clerk: I'll check and see if we have any paint available. ​

Customer: You have shelves FULL of paint! I can see it! ​

Clerk: But it doesn't mean that we have paint available. We sell only a certain number of gallons on any given weekend. Oh, and by the way, the price per gallon just went to $16. We don't have any more $12 paint. ​

Customer: The price went up as we were talking? ​

Clerk: Yes, sir. We change the prices and rules hundreds of times a day, and since you haven't actually walked out of the store with your paint yet, we just decided to change. I suggest you purchase your paint as soon as possible. How many gallons do you want? ​

Customer: Well, maybe five gallons. Make that six, so I'll have enough. ​

Clerk: Oh no, sir, you can't do that. If you buy paint and don't use it, there are penalties and possible confiscation of the paint you already have. ​

Customer: WHAT? ​

Clerk: We can sell enough paint to do your kitchen, bathroom, hall and north bedroom, but if you stop painting before you do the bedroom, you will lose your remaining gallons of paint. ​

Customer: What does it matter whether I use all the paint? I already paid you for it! ​

Clerk: We make plans based upon the idea that all our paint is used, every drop. If you don't, it causes us all sorts of problems. ​

Customer: This is crazy!! I suppose something terrible happens if I don't keep painting until after Saturday night! ​

Clerk: Oh yes! Every gallon you bought automatically becomes the $200 paint. ​

Customer: But what are all these, "Paint on sale from $10 a liter" signs? ​

Clerk: Well that's for our budget paint. It only comes in half- gallons. One $5 half-gallon will do half a room. The second half- gallon to complete the room is $20. None of the cans have labels, some are empty and there are no refunds, even on the empty cans. ​

Customer: To hell with this! I'll buy what I need somewhere else! ​

Clerk: I don't think so, sir. You may be able to buy paint for your bathroom and bedrooms, and your kitchen and dining room from someone else, but you won't be able to paint your connecting hall and stairway from anyone but us. And I should point out, sir, that if you paint in only one direction, it will be $300 a gallon. ​

Customer: I thought your most expensive paint was $200! ​

Clerk: That's if you paint around the room to the point at which you started. A hallway is different. ​

Customer: And if I buy $200 paint for the hall, but only paint in one direction, you'll confiscate the remaining paint. ​

Clerk: No, we'll charge you an extra use fee plus the difference on your next gallon of paint. But I believe you're getting it now, sir. ​

Customer: You're insane! ​

Clerk: Thanks for painting with Delta. ​

 

Lol

 

The Defective Parrot.

A guy is browsing in a pet shop, and sees a parrot sitting on a little perch.


It doesn't have any feet or legs.


The guy says aloud, 'Jeesh, I wonder what happened to this parrot.?'


The parrot says, 'I was born this way.

I'm a defective parrot.'


'Holy crap,' the guy replies.


'You actually understood and answered me. !'


'I got every word,' says the parrot.


'I happen to be a highly intelligent, and a thoroughly educated bird'

'Oh yeah?' the guy asks.


'Then answer this, how do you hang onto your perch, without any feet.?'

'Well,' the parrot says, 'this is very embarrassing, but since you asked, I wrap my weenie around this wooden bar, like a little hook.


You can't see it, because of my feathers.'


'Wow,' says the guy.


'You really can understand, and can speak English, can't you.?'

'Actually, I speak both Spanish and English, and I can converse with reasonable competence on almost any topic, politics, religion, sports, physics, philosophy.


I'm especially good at ornithology.


You really ought to buy me, I'd be a great companion.'


The guy looks at the $200.00 price tag.


'Sorry, but I just can't afford that.'

'Pssssssst,' says the parrot, 'I'm defective, so the truth is, nobody wants me, cause I don't have any feet.


You can probably get me for $20, just make the guy an offer.!'

The guy offers $20, and walks out with the parrot.

Weeks go by.


The parrot is sensational.

He has a great sense of humor, he's interesting, he's a great pal, he understands everything, he sympathizes, and he's insightful.


The guy is delighted.


One day the guy comes home from work, and the parrot goes, 'Psssssssssssst,' and motions him over with one wing.


'I don't know if I should tell you this or not, but it's about your wife, and the UPS man.'

'What are you talking about,?' asks the guy.

'When the UPS man delivered a package today, your wife greeted him at the door, in a sheer black nightie.'


'WHAT???' the guy asks incredulously.


'THEN what happened?'

'Well, then the UPS man came into the house, and lifted up her nightie, and began petting her all over,' reported the parrot.

'NO!' he exclaims, 'and she let him.?'


'Yes.


Then he continued taking off the nightie, got down on his knees, and began to kiss her all over.'

Then the frantic guy demands, 'THEN WHAT HAPPENED.?'

DUNNO! I got a hard-on, and fell off my perch!

 

Damn, the country is on the verge of beginning the return to a democracy in November & all you guys can do is make jokes and shit...what's wrong with you people?!?

 

^THIS^

 

Let me be clear by saying that this is a joke thread. My post was obviously sarcastic mockery full of hope for the return of sanity. Your post sir, is serious biddnizz & no joking matter. Those people will have to turn in their handicapped placards for their actions in 08 and face a return to sanity come November which I feel will only push them to ostrich themselves anally instead of embracing "unchange","rechange" or "delousing"...whatever you wanna call it. The attrition rate should match 08 voting percentages.

 

Nail, a Screw and a Bolt

"What's the difference between a nail, a screw and a bolt?" the woodwork teacher asked Judi, the only girl in the woodwork class during the first day of school. Judi pondered the question for a moment, then replied, "Well, I can't rightly say as I know, 'cause I ain't never been 'bolted'." ​

 

"Doc, there is something I've been needing to talk to you about."

Doctor, "What is it?"

Woman, "It about these hormone pills you have been giving me."

Doctor, "What seems to be the problem?"

Woman, "I have hair growing down my chest."

Doctor, "How far down does it grow?"

Woman, "Clear down to my balls and that's another
thing I got to talk to you about doc."

 

[FONT=&quot] [/FONT][FONT=&quot]A foursome of retired Special Forces NCO's was calmly waiting at the men’s tee while
a foursome of women was hitting from the ladies' tee. The ladies were
taking their time.

When the final lady was ready to tee off, she hacked the ball a grand
total of ten feet. Then she walked over and whiffed it completely.
Then she hacked it another ten feet and finally hacked it another five
feet.

She angrily looked up at the patiently waiting men and sarcastically
said, "I guess all those fucking lessons I took over the winter didn't
help..."

One of the Special Forces guys, a retired Master Sergeant, immediately
responded, "Well, there you have it. You should have taken golf
lessons instead!"

Poor bastard never even had a chance to duck. He was 51 ...[/FONT]

 

[FONT=&quot]Little Bruce and Jenny are only 10 years old, but they
>know they are in love.
>One day they decide that they want to get married, so Bruce goes to Jenny's father
>to ask him for her hand.
>
>Bruce bravely walks up to him and says, "Mr. Smith, me and Jenny are in
>love and I want to ask you for her hand in marriage."
>
>Thinking that this was just the cutest thing,
>[/FONT] ​

[FONT=&quot]Mr. Smith replies, [/FONT]​

[FONT=&quot]
>[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Well Bruce, you are only 10.. Where will you two live?"
>
>
>Without even taking a moment to think about it, Bruce replies, [/FONT]​

[FONT=&quot]
>[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"In Jenny's room. It's bigger than mine and we can
>both fit there nicely."
>
>Still thinking this is just adorable, [/FONT]​

[FONT=&quot]
>[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Mr. Smith says with a huge grin, "Okay, then how will
>you live? You're not old enough to get a job. You'll need to support Jenny."
>
>Again, Bruce instantly replies, "Our allowance, Jenny makes five bucks a week
>and I make 10 bucks a week. That's about 60 bucks a month, so that should do us
>just fine."
>
>Mr. Smith is impressed [/FONT]​

[FONT=&quot]
>[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Bruce has put so much thought into this.
>
>"Well Bruce, it seems like you have everything figured out. [/FONT]​

[FONT=&quot]
>[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]I just have one more question. What will you do if
>the two of you should have little children of your own?"
>
>Bruce just shrugs his shoulders and says, [/FONT]​

[FONT=&quot]
>[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Well, we've been lucky so far."
>
>Mr. Smith no longer thinks the little shit is adorable [/FONT]​

 

This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was not me.

I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I'd gotten the time of the train wrong.
I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.
I want you to picture the scene. It's very important that you get this very clear in your mind.
Here's the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There's a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.
It didn't look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.
Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There's nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.
You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn't do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?
In the end I thought, nothing for it, I'll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn't because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.
Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice . . ." I mean, it doesn't really work.
We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.
Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.
The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who's had the same exact story, only he doesn't have the punch line.

 

Walk on Water - Too Funny!



Bubba had long heard the stories of an amazing family tradition. It seems that his father, grandfather and great-grandfather had all been able to walk on water on their 21st birthday. On that special day, they'd each walked across the lake to the bar on the far side for their first legal drink.
So when Bubba's 21st birthday came a round, he and his pal Jim Bob took a boat out to the middle of the lake, Bubba stepped out of the boat .... and nearly drowned! Jim Bob just barely managed to pull him to safety.
Furious and confused, Bubba went to see his grandmother. 'Grandma,' he asked, 'it's my 21st birthday, so why can't I walk 'cross the lake like my pappy, his father, and his father before him? Granny looked deeply into Bubba's troubled eyes and said, Because your father, your grandfather and your great grandfather were born in January, when the lake is frozen, and you were born in July, you dumbass.

 

Politics Explained

FEUDALISM: You have two cows. Your lord takes some of the milk.
PURE SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else's cows. You have to take care of all of the cows. The government gives you as much milk as you need.
BUREAUCRATIC SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and put them in a barn with everyone else's cows. They are cared for by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens the government took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you as much milk and eggs as the regulations say you need.
FASCISM: You have two cows. The government takes both, hires you to take care of them and sells you the milk.
PURE COMMUNISM: You have two cows. Your neighbors help you take care of them, and you all share the milk.
RUSSIAN COMMUNISM: You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the government takes all the milk.
CAMBODIAN COMMUNISM: You have two cows. The government takes both of them and shoots you.
DICTATORSHIP: You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.
PURE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.
REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors pick someone to tell you who gets the milk.
BUREAUCRACY: You have two cows. At first the government regulates what you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays you not to milk them. Then it takes both, shoots one, milks the other and pours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out forms accounting for the missing cows.
PURE ANARCHY: You have two cows. Either you sell the milk at a fair price or your neighbors try to take the cows and kill you.
LIBERTARIAN/ANARCHO-CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.
SURREALISM: You have two giraffes. The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.

 

One day a guy with premature ejaculation
problems went to a doctor.

The doctor said, "Whenever you feel the urge
to ejaculate, startle yourself." So he went out
and bought a starter pistol. When he got home
his wife was naked in bed ready fo him. So
they got in the 69 position and started at it.
When he felt the urge he fired the pistol. The
next day he went to the doctor and the doctor
asked him how it went

He said, "Not to good. My wife bit off three
inches of my dick, shit in my face and my
neighbor came out of the closet with his hands
up, naked."




Have a great weekend everyone!