Sunday, May 25, 2008


These two guys are drinking really late one night in a bar when one of them looks at the other and says, "I have to get home, my wife is going to kill me."

The other guy says, "What, are you kidding me, my wife lets me do whatever I want."

The first guy says, "I know, I know", all embarrassed that his wife controls him. He continues," I try to sneak past her everytime to. I drive really slow down my street and turn the headlights off 100 yards short of my driveway, 50 feet short I turn off the key so that I can coast in, I shut the car door easily, open the front door to the house quietly, take off my boots so I can go up the stairs in my socks, sneak through the bedroom door, and as soon as I hit the bed she is up screaming at me."

The second guy laughs and replies, "There is your problem, let me tell you what I do. I drive 90 MPH down my street and lock it up sideways into my driveway, bump into the garage door, slam the car door shut, slam the front door, stomp up the stairs, swing the bedroom door open, jump up on the bed, slap my wife on the ass and say hey sweetie, how about a blowjob?"

The second guy pauses for a second and replies," She's sleeping every time."

Bill worked in a pickle factory. He had been employed there for a number of years when he came home one day to confess to his wife that he had a terrible compulsion. He had an urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer. His wife suggested that he should see a sex therapist to talk about it, but Bill indicated that he'd be too embarrassed. He vowed to overcome the compulsion on his own.

One day a few weeks later, Bill came home absolutely ashen. His wife could see at once that something was seriously wrong.

"What's wrong, Bill?" she asked.

"Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?"

"Oh, Bill, you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

"My God, Bill, what happened?"

"I got fired."

"No, Bill. I mean, what happened with the pickle slicer?"

"Oh...she got fired too."

A man spots a nice looking girl in a bar so he goes up and starts small talk. Seeing that she didn't back off he asks her name. "Carmen," she replies.
That's a nice name," he says warming up the conversation, "Who named you, your mother?"
"No, I named myself," she answers.
"Oh, that's interesting. Why Carmen?"
"Because I like cars, and I like men," she says looking directly into his eyes. "What's your name?"
"Beercunt." he replies

After hearing a couple's complaints that their intimate life wasn't what it used to be, the sex counsellor suggested they vary their position. "For example," he suggested, "you might try the wheelbarrow. Lift her legs from behind and off you go." The eager husband was all for trying this new idea as soon as they got home. "Well, okay," the hesitant wife agreed, "but on two conditions. First, if it hurts you have to stop right away, and second..." she continued, "you have to promise we won't go past my parents' house."

Two pedophiles were walking down the street one day when they came across a pair of small lacey knickers on the ground. The first one picks them up, smells them and goes, "Aahhh... A seven-year-old girl." The other grabs them from him and also takes a smell and goes, "No, no ... Definitely an eight-year-old girl!" The two of them are them smelling them in turns and arguing. "An eight-year-old!", "No, a seven-year-old!", "Definitely an eight-year-old!" .... and so on. The local priest is walking past as the two men argue and can't help but ask them what the commotion is all about.
The first pedophile tells the priest, and asks him if he could sort out the argument, so the priest takes the knickers, has a good long sniff, and after pondering for a few moments he looks at the two men and says: "Definitely an eight-year-old girl! ......... but not from my parish!"

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