The following jokes I have received by e-mail
Diary of a snow shoveler...December 8: 6:00 PM.2006
6". Snow packed so hard by snowplow, I broke the shovel.
Thought I was having a heart attack.
If I ever catch the son-of -a-bitch who drives that snowplow, I'll drag him through the snow by his balls and beat him to death with my broken shovel.
I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling and then he comes down the street at a 100 miles an hour and throws snow all over everywhere I've just been!
Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents, but I was too busy watching for the Goddamn snowplow.
December 25: 2006
Merry F!=3D@x@!x!x1 Christmas. 20 more inches of the !=3D@x@!x!x1 slop tonight. Snowed in. The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil. God, I hate the snow! Then the snowplow driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad attitude. I think she's a fricking idiot. If I have to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" one more time, I'm going to stuff her into the microwave.
December 26: 2006
Still snowed in. Why the hell did I ever move here? It was all HER idea. She's really getting on my nerves.
December 27: 2006
Temperature dropped to -30, and the pipes froze. Plumber came after 14 hours of waiting for him; he only charged me $1,400 to replace all my pipes.
December 28: 2006
Warmed up to above -50. Still snowed in. The BITCH is driving me crazy!!!!!
December 29: 2006
10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in. That's the silliest thing I ever heard. How dumb does he think I am?
December 30: 2006
Roof caved in. I beat up the snow plow driver. He is now suing me for a million dollars; not for only the beating I gave him, but also for trying to shove the broken snow shovel up his ass. The wife went home to her mother. 9" predicted.
December 31: 2006
I set fire to what's left of the house. No more shoveling.
January 8: 2006
Feel so good. I just love those little white pills they keep giving me. Why am I tied to the bed?
George Carlin's new rules for 2007
New Rule: Stop giving me that pop-up ad for classmates.com! There's a reason you don't talk to people for 25 years. Because you don't particularly like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days: mowing my lawn.
New Rule: Don't eat anything that's served to you out a window unless you're a seagull. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of Wendy's chili. Hey, it cost less than a dollar What did you expect it to contain? Trout?
New Rule: If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're a dope. If you're a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols.
If you're a grown man, they're pictures of men.
New Rule: Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: do you have two of them? Okay, we're done.
New Rule: There's no such thing as flavored water. There's a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket, water, but without that watery taste.
Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink. You want flavored water? Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water.
New Rule: Stop screwing with old people. Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that's square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the bottom. And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.
New Rule: The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the ass hole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a "decaf Grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet," ooh, you're a huge ass hole.
New Rule: I'm not the cashier! By the time I look up from sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing "Enter," verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don't want cash back, and pressing "Enter" again, the kid who is supposed to be ringing me up is standing there eating my Almond Joy.
New Rule: Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass. And it translates to "beef with broccoli." The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just high.
New Rule: Competitive eating isn't a sport. It's one of the seven deadly sins. ESPN recently televised the US. Open of Competitive Eating, because watching those athletes at the poker table was just too damned exciting. What's next, competitive farting? Oh wait. They're already doing that. It's called "The Howard Stern Show."
New Rule: I don't need a bigger mega M&Ms. If I'm extra hungry for M&Ms, I'll go nuts and eat two.
New Rule: If you're going to insist on making movies based on crappy, old television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what's playing on the other screens. Let's remember the reason something was a television show in the first place is that the idea wasn't good enough to be a movie.
New Rule: No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for weddings. Now it's for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab.
picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn't gift giving, it's the white people version of looting.
New Rule: and this one is long overdue: No more bathroom attendants.
After I zip up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex with George Michael. I can't even tell if he's supposed to be there, or just some freak with a fetish. I don't want to be on your webcam, dude. I just want to wash my hands.
New Rule: When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't need to know in months. "27 Months." "He's two," will do just fine. He's not a cheese.
And I didn't really care in the first place.
New Rule: If you ever hope to be a credible adult and want a job that pays better than minimum wage, then for God's sake don't pierce or tattoo every available piece of flesh. If so, then plan your future around saying" Do you want fries with that?"
Due to the climate of political correctness now pervading America, Kentuckians, Tennesseans and West Virginians will no longer be referred to as "HILLBILLIES."
You must now refer to them as APPALACHIAN-AMERICANS.
HOW TO SPEAK ABOUT WOMEN AND BE POLITICALLY CORRECT:
1 She is not a "BABE" or a "CHICK" - She is a "BREASTED AMERICAN."
2. She is not "EASY" - She is "HORIZONTALLY ACCESSIBLE."
3. She is not a "DUMB BLOND" - She is a "LIGHT-HAIRED DETOUR OFF THE INFORMATION SUPERHIGHWAY."
4. She has not "BEEN AROUND" - She is a "PREVIOUSLY-ENJOYED COMPANION."
5 . She does not "NAG" you - She becomes "VERBALLY REPETITIVE."
6. She is not a "TWO-BIT H00KER" - She is a "LOW COST PROVIDER."
HOW TO SPEAK ABOUT MEN AND BE POLITICALLY CORRECT:
1. He does not have a "BEER GUT" - He has developed a "LIQUID GRAIN STORAGE FACILITY."
2. He is not a "BAD DANCER" - He is "OVERLY CAUCASIAN."
3. He does not "GET LOST ALL THE TIME" - He "INVESTIGATES ALTERNATIVE DESTINATIONS."
4. He is not "BALDING" - He is in "FOLLICLE REGRESSION."
5. He does not act like a "TOTAL A$$" - He develops a case of "RECTAL-CRANIAL INVERSION."
6. It's not his "CRACK" you see hanging out of his pants - It's "REAR CLEAVAGE."
HAPPY AND SAD
and wife were sharing a bottle of wine when the husband
said,"I bet you can't tell me something which will make me happy and sad at the same time".
The wife thought for a few moments, then said, "Your d**k's bigger than your brother's."
Subject: Medical Distinctions
We've all heard about people having guts or balls. But do you really know the difference between them? In an effort to keep you informed, the definition for each is listed below...
GUTS - is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being met by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask: "Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?"
BALLS - is coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the butt and having the balls to say: "You're next."
This should clear up any confusion on the definitions.
Medically speaking, there is no difference in the outcome since both ultimately result in death.
10 Husbands, Still a Virgin
A lawyer married a woman who had previously divorced ten husbands.
On their wedding night, she told her new husband, "Please be gentle, I'm still a virgin."
"What?" said the puzzled groom.
"How can that be if you've been married ten times?"
"Well, Husband #1 was a sales representative: he kept telling me how great it was going to be.
Husband #2 was in software services: he was never really sure how it was supposed to function, but he said he'd look into it and get back to me.
Husband #3 was from field services: he said everything checked out diagnostically but he just couldn't get the system up.
Husband #4 was in telemarketing: even though he knew he had the order, he didn't know when he would be able to deliver.
Husband #5 was an engineer: he understood the basic process but wanted three years to research, implement, and design a new state-of-the-art method.
Husband #6 was from finance and administration: he thought he knew how, but he wasn't sure whether it was his job or not.
Husband #7 was in marketing: although he had a nice product, he was never sure how to position it.
Husband #8 was a psychologist: all he ever did was talk about it.
Husband #9 was a gynecologist: all he did was look at it.
Husband #10 was a stamp collector: all he ever did was... God! I miss him! But now that I've married you, I'm really excited!"
"Good," said the new husband, "but, why?"
"You're a lawyer. This time I know I'm gonna get screwed!"
Blonde paint job
A blonde, wanting to earn some money, decided to hire herself out as a
handyman-type and started canvassing a wealthy neighborhood. She went to the
front door of the first house and asked the owner if he had any jobs for her to
"Well, you can paint my porch. How much will you charge?"
The blonde said, "How about 50 dollars?" The man agreed and told her that the paint and ladders that she might need were in the garage. The man's wife, inside the house, heard the conversation and said to her husband, "Does she realize that the porch goes all the way around the house?"
The man replied, "She should. She was standing on the porch."
A short time later, the blonde came to the door to collect her money.
"You're finished already?" he asked. "Yes," the blonde answered, "and I had paint left over, so I gave it two coats. "Impressed, the man reached in his pocket for the $50. "And by the way," the blonde added, "that's not a Porch, it's a Ferrari."