 HEADACHES ! !
Joe has been having severe headaches for several years now and his wife finally convinced him to see a neurologist. The doctor said, "Joe, the good news is I can cure your headaches. The bad news is that it will require castration.You have a very rare condition which causes your testicles to press on your spine and the pressure creates one hell of a headache. The only way to relieve the pressure is to remove the testicles." Joe was shocked and depressed. He wondered if he had anything to live for. He had no choice but to go under the knife. When he left the hospital he was without a headache for the first time in 20 years but he felt like he was missing an important part of himself. He walked down the street and realized that he felt like a different person. He could make a new beginning and live a new life. He saw a men's clothing store and thought, that's what I need . . . a new suit. He entered the shop and told the salesman, "I'd like a new suit." The elderly tailor eyed him briefly and said, let's see . . . size 44 long. Joe laughed, that's right, how did you know? "Been in the business 60 years" the tailor said. Joe tried on the suit. It fit perfectly. As Joe admired himself in the mirror, the salesman asked, How about a new shirt? Joe thought for a moment and then said, "Sure." The salesman eyed Joe and said, "Let's see, 34 sleeves, and 16 ½ neck." Joe was surprised. "That's right; how did you know?" Been in the business 60 years!" Joe tried on the shirt, and it fit perfectly. He walked comfortably around the shop, and the salesman asked, "How about some new underwear? " Joe thought for a moment and said, "Sure." The salesman said, "Let's see . . . size 36." Joe laughed, "Ah ha!! I got you - I've worn a size 34 since I was 18 years old. The salesman shook his head. "You can't wear a size 34. A size 34 would press your testicles up against the base of your spine and give you one hell of a headache."
New suit - $400
New shirt - $36
New underwear - $6
Second Opinion PRICELESS |
A couple had only been married for two weeks. The husband, although very much in love, couldn't wait to go out on the town and party with his old buddies. So, he said to his new wife, "Honey, I'll be right back." Where are you going, Coochy Coo?" asked the wife. "I'm going to the bar, Pretty Face. I'm going to have a Beer." The wife said, "You want a beer my love?" She opened the door to the refrigerator and showed him 25 different kinds of beer brands from 15 different countries: Germany, Holland, Japan, India, etc., etc. The husband didn't know what to do and the only thing that he could think of saying was, "Yes, Lollipop ... but at the bar ... you know ... they have frozen glasses... " He didn't get to finish the sentence, because the wife interrupted him by saying, "You want a frozen glass, Puppy Face?" She took a huge mug out of the freezer, so frozen that she was getting chills just holding it. The husband, looking a bit pale, said, "Yes, Tootsie Roll, but at the bar they have those hors d'oeuvres that are really delicious ... I won't be long. I'll be right back. I promise. OK?" "You want hors d'oeuvres, Poochie Pooh?" She opened the oven and took out 5 dishes of different hors d'oeuvres: chicken wings, pigs in the blankets, mushroom caps, and pork strips. But my Sweet Honey.....at the bar...you know there's swearing and dirty words and all that..." "You want dirty words, Cutie Pie?... "LISTEN UP DICKHEAD! SIT DOWN, SHUT THE FRIG-UP, DRINK YOUR DAMN BEER IN YOUR FROZEN MUG AND EAT YOUR F*CKIN' HORS D'OEUVRES CUZ YOUR MARRIED ASS AIN'T GOING TO A DAMN BAR! THAT SHIT IS OVER...GOT IT, ASSHOLE?"...And they lived happily ever after. Now..., isn't that a sweet story? |
If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have you laughing out LOUD! Overview: I had to take my son's lizard to the vet. Here's what happened: Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was "something wrong" with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room. "He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious dad, can you help?" I put my best lizard-healer statement on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do. "Honey," I called, " come look at the lizard!" "Oh my! gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having babies." "What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!" I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife. "Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she inquired. (I actually think she said this sarcastically!) "No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together). "Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed. "Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know," she informed me. (again with the sarcasm, you think?) By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it. "Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience, I announced. "We're about to witness the miracle of birth." "Oh, gross!" they shrieked. "Well, isn't THAT just great! What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do think she was being snotty here, too. Don't you?) We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later. "We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted. "It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified. "Do something, Dad!" my son urged. "Okay, okay." Squeamishly , I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results. "Should I call 911," my eldest daughter wanted to know. "Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?) "Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap. "Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged. "I don't think lizards do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for God's sake.) The Vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass. "What do you think, Doc, a C-section?" I suggested scientifically. "Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside. "Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked. "Oh, perfectly," the Vet assured us. "This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen... Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um....um....masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back." He blushed, glancing at my wife. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr. Cameron." We were silent, absorbing this. "So Ernie's just...just... excited," my wife offered. "Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood. More silence. Then my viscous, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly. "What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness. Tears were now running down her face. Laughing "It's just...that...I'm picturing you pulling on its... its...teeny little..." she gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more. "That's enough," I warned. We thanked the Vet and hurriedly bundled the lizards and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay. "I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me. "Oh, you have NO idea," Closed mouth, my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter. 2 - Lizards - $140... 1 - Cage - $50... Trip to the Vet - $30... Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie.....Priceless Moral of the story - finish biology class - lizards lay eggs |
Subject: FW: Following the Plow An old hillbilly farmer had a wife who nagged him unmercifully. From morning till night (and sometimes later), she was always complaining about something. The only time he got any relief was when he was out plowing with his old mule. He tried to plow a lot. One day, when he was out plowing, his wife brought him lunch in the field. He drove the old mule into the shade, sat down on a stump, and began to eat his lunch. Immediately, his wife began haranguing him again. Complain, nag, nag; it just went on and on. All of a sudden, the old mule lashed out with both hind feet; caught her smack in the back of the head. Killed her dead on the spot. At the funeral several days later, the minister noticed something rather odd When a woman mourner would approach the old farmer, he would listen for a minute, then nod his head in agreement; but when a man mourner approached him, he would listen for a minute, then shake his head in disagreement. This was so consistent, the minister decided to ask the old farmer about it.So after the funeral, the minister spoke to the old farmer, and asked him why he nodded his head and agreed with the women, but always shook his head and disagreed with all the men. The old farmer said: "Well, the women would come up and say something about how nice my wife looked, or how pretty her dress was, so I'd nod my head in agreement." "And what about the men?" the minister asked. "They wanted to know if the mule was for sale". |
Don't Fart in Bed!
If this story doesn't make you cry for laughing so hard, let me know and I'll pray for you.
This is a story about a couple who had been happily married for years. The only friction in their marriage was the husband's habit of farting loudly every morning when he awoke. The noise would wake his wife and the smell would make her eyes water and make her gasp for air. Every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping them off because it was making her sick. He told her he couldn't stop it and that it was perfectly natural. She told him to see a doctor; she was concerned that one day he would blow his guts out.
The years went by and he continued to blast them out!
Then one Thanksgiving morning as she was preparing the turkey for dinner and he was upstairs sound asleep, she looked at the bowl where she had put the turkey innards and neck, gizzard, liver and all the spare parts and a malicious thought came to her.
She took the bowl and went upstairs where her husband was sound asleep and, gently pulling back the bed covers, she pulled back the elastic waistband of his underpants and emptied the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts.
Some time later she heard her husband waken with his usual trumpeting which was followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic footsteps as he ran into the bathroom.
The wife could hardly control herself as she rolled on the floor laughing, tears in her eyes! After years of torture she reckoned he had got him back pretty good.
About twenty minutes later, her husband came downstairs in his bloodstained underpants with a look of horror on his face. She bit her lip as she asked him what was the matter.
He said, "Honey, you were right." "All these years you have warned me and I didn't listen to you." "What do you mean?" asked his wife. "Well, you always told me that one day I would end up farting my guts out, and today it finally happened.
But by the grace of God, some Vaseline, and two fingers, I think got most of them back in."
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