Is there a running thread for funny jokes or memes?
- Thread starter Got GSPs
- Start date
A hunter went hunting one day in West Virginia and bagged three ducks. He put them in the bed of his pickup truck and was about to drive home where he was confronted by an ornery game warden who didn't like hunter. The game warden ordered to the hunter to show his hunting license, and the hunter pulled out a valid West Virginia hunting license. The game warden looked at the license, then reached over and picked up one of the ducks, sniffed it's butt, and said, "This duck ain't from West Virginia. This is a Kentucky duck. You got a Kentucky hunting license, boy?" The hunter reached into his wallet and produced a Kentucky hunting license.
The game warden looked at it, then reached over and grabbed the second duck, sniffed it's butt, and said, "This ain't no Kentucky duck. This duck's from Tennessee. You got an Tennessee licence?" The hunter reached into his wallet and produced an Tennessee license. The warden then reached over and picked up the third duck. "This duck's from Virginia. You got a Virginia hunting license?"
Again the hunter reached into his wallet and brought out a Virginia hunting license. The game warden was extremely frustrated at this point, and he yelled at the hunter, "Just where the hell are you from?"
The hunter turned around, bent over, dropped his pants, and said, "You tell me, you're the expert!"
The game warden looked at it, then reached over and grabbed the second duck, sniffed it's butt, and said, "This ain't no Kentucky duck. This duck's from Tennessee. You got an Tennessee licence?" The hunter reached into his wallet and produced an Tennessee license. The warden then reached over and picked up the third duck. "This duck's from Virginia. You got a Virginia hunting license?"
Again the hunter reached into his wallet and brought out a Virginia hunting license. The game warden was extremely frustrated at this point, and he yelled at the hunter, "Just where the hell are you from?"
The hunter turned around, bent over, dropped his pants, and said, "You tell me, you're the expert!"
Replace Jim for Bob…
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Mavis and Clara were walking across a bridge late in the evening.
Mavis says to Clara -"I always wanted to pee over the side like the boys do". Clara says “Go ahead. There is no one around”
Mavis drops her pants and puts her bare backside over the side. She says “Do you think I could hit that canoe down there?”
Clara says. “That’s not a canoe. That’s a reflection.”
Mavis says to Clara -"I always wanted to pee over the side like the boys do". Clara says “Go ahead. There is no one around”
Mavis drops her pants and puts her bare backside over the side. She says “Do you think I could hit that canoe down there?”
Clara says. “That’s not a canoe. That’s a reflection.”
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From The Courier-Journal (Louisville, Kentucky, USA) of Friday 3rd April 1981:
Frankfort, Ky.—An aura of television drama—aided by floodlights, six TV cameras and a host of lawyers—surrounded the opening yesterday of the long-awaited hearing on sexual-harassment charges against Agriculture Commissioner Alben W. Barkley II and two other men.
In an unprecedented public session, the two women who filed the charges came face-to-face with Barkley and the two other Agriculture Department employees—Gerald Deatherage and Doug Wheeler.
The women, former employees In the department, testified before the cameras of commercial television stations and the Kentucky Educational Television network […].
[…]
There were times of nervous levity. Laughter erupted when attorney Thomas Watkins, representing Deatherage, suggested to Barbara Armstrong—the other woman bringing charges—that the phrase “the little man in the boat” might well have been a reference to Kentucky River boaters who could be seen from the main agriculture offices in the Capital Plaza Towers.
Mrs. Armstrong earlier had charged that Deatherage had persistently chided and embarrassed her for not knowing the meaning of “the little man in the boat.” She said she became “furious” after her husband defined the phrase as “a part of a woman’s anatomy that is stimulated by foreplay before orgasm.”
To which the men in the courtroom asked...."What is that?"
Does it come in left-handed (it's like someone else is buttering my cob)?
One stormy night
This story happened in Dublin, and even though it sounds like an Alfred Hitchcock tale, it's said to be true...
John Bradford, a Dublin University student, was on the side of the road hitchhiking on a very dark night and in the midst of a big storm...
The night was rolling on and no car went by. The storm was so strong he could hardly see a few feet ahead of him. Suddenly, he saw a car slowly coming towards him and stopped...
John, desperate for shelter and without thinking about it, got into the car and closed the door, only to realise there was nobody behind the wheel and the engine wasn't on...
The car started moving slowly. John looked at the road ahead and saw a bend approaching. Scared, he started to pray, begging for his life. Then, just before the car hit the bend, a hand appeared out of nowhere through the window and turned the wheel...
John, paralysed with terror, watched as the hand came through the window, but never touched or harmed him...
Shortly thereafter John saw the lights of a pub appear down the road, so, gathering strength, he jumped out of the car and ran to it...
Wet and out of breath, he rushed inside and started telling everybody about the horrible experience he had just had. A silence enveloped the pub when everybody realised he was crying and wasn't drunk...
Suddenly, the door opened, and two other people walked in from the dark and stormy night. They, like John, were also soaked and out of breath. Looking around, and seeing John Bradford sobbing at the bar, one said to the other...
"Look Paddy, there's that frigging idiot that got in the car while we were pushing it"...
This story happened in Dublin, and even though it sounds like an Alfred Hitchcock tale, it's said to be true...
John Bradford, a Dublin University student, was on the side of the road hitchhiking on a very dark night and in the midst of a big storm...
The night was rolling on and no car went by. The storm was so strong he could hardly see a few feet ahead of him. Suddenly, he saw a car slowly coming towards him and stopped...
John, desperate for shelter and without thinking about it, got into the car and closed the door, only to realise there was nobody behind the wheel and the engine wasn't on...
The car started moving slowly. John looked at the road ahead and saw a bend approaching. Scared, he started to pray, begging for his life. Then, just before the car hit the bend, a hand appeared out of nowhere through the window and turned the wheel...
John, paralysed with terror, watched as the hand came through the window, but never touched or harmed him...
Shortly thereafter John saw the lights of a pub appear down the road, so, gathering strength, he jumped out of the car and ran to it...
Wet and out of breath, he rushed inside and started telling everybody about the horrible experience he had just had. A silence enveloped the pub when everybody realised he was crying and wasn't drunk...
Suddenly, the door opened, and two other people walked in from the dark and stormy night. They, like John, were also soaked and out of breath. Looking around, and seeing John Bradford sobbing at the bar, one said to the other...
"Look Paddy, there's that frigging idiot that got in the car while we were pushing it"...
My buddy, Hal, said he was watching porn the other day when he could hear his wife walking into the room. He quickly changed to the outdoor channel. His wife stopped and told him, “better change the channel back, you know how to fish”.
Not sure how funny laymen would consider this story to be, but I’ll post this anyway. R.H. Bing was a very fine mathematician, he was the advisor of my topology prof at Tennessee, Bob Daverman.
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Three guys were sitting in a biker bar.
A man came in, already drunk, sat down at the bar, and ordered a drink.
The man looked around and saw the 3 men sitting at a corner table.
He got up, staggered to the table, leaned over, looked the biggest one in the face, and said, "I went by your grandma's house and I saw her in the hallway, buck naked.
Man, she is fine!"
The biker looked at him and didn't say a word.
His buddies were confused, because he was a badass, and would fight at the drop of a hat.
The drunk leaned on the table again and said, "I got it on with your grandma and she is good, the best I ever had!" The biker still said nothing.
His buddies were starting to get mad.
The drunk leaned on the table again and said, "I'll tell you something else boy, your grandma liked it!"
The biker stood up, took the drunk by the shoulder, and said,
"Damn it, Grandpa, you're drunk! Go home!"
A man came in, already drunk, sat down at the bar, and ordered a drink.
The man looked around and saw the 3 men sitting at a corner table.
He got up, staggered to the table, leaned over, looked the biggest one in the face, and said, "I went by your grandma's house and I saw her in the hallway, buck naked.
Man, she is fine!"
The biker looked at him and didn't say a word.
His buddies were confused, because he was a badass, and would fight at the drop of a hat.
The drunk leaned on the table again and said, "I got it on with your grandma and she is good, the best I ever had!" The biker still said nothing.
His buddies were starting to get mad.
The drunk leaned on the table again and said, "I'll tell you something else boy, your grandma liked it!"
The biker stood up, took the drunk by the shoulder, and said,
"Damn it, Grandpa, you're drunk! Go home!"
Genie: What is your final wish?
Boy: I wish I were you.
Genue: Weurd, but all rught.
Boy: I wish I were you.
Genue: Weurd, but all rught.
In the late 1980’s there was a young man fully dressed out in punk rocker attire sitting at a bar. He sported a rainbow colored mohawk haircut with gold beads throughout. He dangled green and orange earrings. He had blue and red nose studs. He had gold eyebrow rings. He had multi-colored tattoos on his face. He even wore a rainbow- colored leather jacket with silver studs. He was the quintessential poster child for the punk look.
As he was nursing his drink, he noticed an older man in an army green parker coat staring at him from across the bar. After a while the punker got tired of being stared at, so he confronted the older man and asked, “What’s your problem old man?. Why the hell are you staring at me?”
The old man replied, “No disrespect intended. You look somewhat familiar. I was wondering if you were born in Southeast Asia?”
“Hell no, Why would you ask such a stupid a$$ question?”
The old man smiled and said, “You see son, back when I was in Vietnam, I overdosed on LSD one night while on patrol in the Jungle. I got so crazy that I caught and fvcked me a peacock. I was wondering if you might be my son.”
As he was nursing his drink, he noticed an older man in an army green parker coat staring at him from across the bar. After a while the punker got tired of being stared at, so he confronted the older man and asked, “What’s your problem old man?. Why the hell are you staring at me?”
The old man replied, “No disrespect intended. You look somewhat familiar. I was wondering if you were born in Southeast Asia?”
“Hell no, Why would you ask such a stupid a$$ question?”
The old man smiled and said, “You see son, back when I was in Vietnam, I overdosed on LSD one night while on patrol in the Jungle. I got so crazy that I caught and fvcked me a peacock. I was wondering if you might be my son.”
Don’t know where else to drop this, but I was too nervous after the Phils win to go to sleep and got lost in YouTube. What is it with Germans and their crazy mashup sports. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any stranger than Headis (playing table tennis by heading a small soccer ball) which I discovered the other year, they come up with Eisfußball. Yes, you guessed it. Soccer on a hockey ice surface while wearing bowling shoes. Apparently it started out as a challenge on a game show. I also noticed that one of the side board advertisements is for a cannabis beverage, which I am sure is purely coincidental.
A chicken farmer went to a local bar, sat next to a woman, and ordered a glass of champagne.
The woman perked up and said, “How about that? I just ordered a glass of champagne, too!”
“What a coincidence,” the farmer said. “This is a special day for me; I am celebrating.”
“This is a special day for me too, I am also celebrating,” said the woman.
“What a coincidence!” said the farmer. As they clinked glasses, he added, “What are you celebrating?”
“My husband and I have been trying to have a child, and today my gynecologist told me that I am pregnant!”
“What a coincidence!” said the man. “I’m a chicken farmer, and for years all of my hens were infertile, but today they are all laying fertilized eggs.”
“That’s great!” said the woman, “How did your chickens become fertile?”
“I used a different rooster,” he replied.
The woman smiled, clinked his glass and said, “What a coincidence!”
The woman perked up and said, “How about that? I just ordered a glass of champagne, too!”
“What a coincidence,” the farmer said. “This is a special day for me; I am celebrating.”
“This is a special day for me too, I am also celebrating,” said the woman.
“What a coincidence!” said the farmer. As they clinked glasses, he added, “What are you celebrating?”
“My husband and I have been trying to have a child, and today my gynecologist told me that I am pregnant!”
“What a coincidence!” said the man. “I’m a chicken farmer, and for years all of my hens were infertile, but today they are all laying fertilized eggs.”
“That’s great!” said the woman, “How did your chickens become fertile?”
“I used a different rooster,” he replied.
The woman smiled, clinked his glass and said, “What a coincidence!”
I mowed me lawn today and after doing so I sat down and had a cold beer.
The day was really quite beautiful, and the drink facilitated some deep thinking.
My wife walked by and asked me what I was doing. and I said, "Nothing."
The reason I said "nothing" instead of saying just thinking" is because she then would have asked, 'About what?" At that point, I would have had to explain that men are deep thinkers about various topics, which would lead to other questions.
Finally, I pondered an age-old question: Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the nuts?
Women always maintain that giving birth is way more painful than a guy getting kicked in the nuts, but how could they know? Well, after another beer and some more heavy deductive thinking. I have come up with an answer to that question. Getting kicked in the nuts is more painful than having a baby and even though I obviously couldn't really know, here is the reason for my conclusion:
A year or so after giving birth, a woman will often say, it might be nice to have another child."
But you never hear a guy say.
"You know, I think I would like another kick in the nuts.'
I rest my case. Time for another beer. Then maybe a nap.
The day was really quite beautiful, and the drink facilitated some deep thinking.
My wife walked by and asked me what I was doing. and I said, "Nothing."
The reason I said "nothing" instead of saying just thinking" is because she then would have asked, 'About what?" At that point, I would have had to explain that men are deep thinkers about various topics, which would lead to other questions.
Finally, I pondered an age-old question: Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the nuts?
Women always maintain that giving birth is way more painful than a guy getting kicked in the nuts, but how could they know? Well, after another beer and some more heavy deductive thinking. I have come up with an answer to that question. Getting kicked in the nuts is more painful than having a baby and even though I obviously couldn't really know, here is the reason for my conclusion:
A year or so after giving birth, a woman will often say, it might be nice to have another child."
But you never hear a guy say.
"You know, I think I would like another kick in the nuts.'
I rest my case. Time for another beer. Then maybe a nap.
The display is beautiful.....
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Mrs. Ravioli comes to visit her son Anthony for dinner. He lives with a female roommate, Maria.
During the course of the meal, his mother couldn't help but notice how pretty Anthony's roommate is.
Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Anthony and his roommate than met the eye.
Reading his mom's thoughts, Anthony volunteered,
“I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you, Maria and I are just roommates.''
About a week later, Maria came to Anthony saying,
“Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find the silver sugar bowl. You don't suppose she took it, do you?"
"Well, I doubt it, but I'll email her, just to be sure."
So he sat down and wrote an email:
Dear Mama,
I'm not saying that you "did" take the sugar bowl from my house; I'm not saying that you "did not" take it.
But the fact remains that it has been missing ever since you were here for dinner.
Your Loving Son,
Anthony
A few days later, Anthony received a response email from his Mama which read:
Dear son,
I'm not saying that you "do" sleep with Maria, and I'm not saying that you "do not" sleep with her.
But the fact remains that if she was sleeping in her OWN bed, she would have found the sugar bowl by now.
Your Loving Mama
Moral:
Never Bulla Shita your Mama.
During the course of the meal, his mother couldn't help but notice how pretty Anthony's roommate is.
Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Anthony and his roommate than met the eye.
Reading his mom's thoughts, Anthony volunteered,
“I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you, Maria and I are just roommates.''
About a week later, Maria came to Anthony saying,
“Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find the silver sugar bowl. You don't suppose she took it, do you?"
"Well, I doubt it, but I'll email her, just to be sure."
So he sat down and wrote an email:
Dear Mama,
I'm not saying that you "did" take the sugar bowl from my house; I'm not saying that you "did not" take it.
But the fact remains that it has been missing ever since you were here for dinner.
Your Loving Son,
Anthony
A few days later, Anthony received a response email from his Mama which read:
Dear son,
I'm not saying that you "do" sleep with Maria, and I'm not saying that you "do not" sleep with her.
But the fact remains that if she was sleeping in her OWN bed, she would have found the sugar bowl by now.
Your Loving Mama
Moral:
Never Bulla Shita your Mama.
More pics of Maria please
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