• Hello there guest and Welcome to The #1 Classic Mustang forum!
    To gain full access you must Register. Registration is free and it takes only a few moments to complete.
    Already a member? Login here then!

Joke of the day - Add your jokes here

My husband has scolded me many times for leaving the keys in the ignition. My theory is the ignition is the best place not to lose them. His theory is that the car will be stolen. As I burst through the door, I came to a terrifying conclusion. His theory was right. The parking lot was empty.

I immediately called the police. I gave them my location, confessed that I had left my keys in the car, and that it had been Stolen. Then I made the most difficult call of all, "Honey," I stammered; I always call him "honey" in times like these. "I left my keys in the car and it has been stolen." There was a period of silence. I thought the call had been dropped, but then I heard his voice.

"Are you kiddin' me?" he barked, "I dropped you off!
Now it was my time to be silent. Embarrassed, I said, "Well, come and get me."
He retorted, "I will, as soon as I convince this policeman I have not stolen your f*cking car!!
 
Last edited:
A train hits a bus filled with Roman Catholic schoolgirls and they all perish.

They are in heaven trying to enter the pearly gates when St. Peter asks the first girl 'Tiffany, have you ever had any contact with a male organ?' She giggles and shyly replies, 'Well, I once touched the head of one with the tip of my finger.' St. Peter says, 'Okay, dip the tip of your finger in the Holy Water and pass through the gate.'

St. Peter asks the next girl the same question, 'Jennifer, have you ever had any contact with a male organ?' The girl is a little reluctant but replies, 'Well, once I fondled and stroked one.' St. Peter says, 'Okay, dip your whole hand in the Holy Water and pass through the gate.'

All of a sudden, there is a lot of commotion in the line of girls. One girl is pushing her way to the front of the line. When she reaches the front, St. Peter says, 'Louise, what seems to be the rush?'

The girl replies, 'If I'm going to have to gargle that Holy Water, I want to do it before Sharon sticks her ass in it."
 
A hungry traveler stopped at a monastery and was taken to the kitchen where a brother was frying chips…

“Are you the friar?” he asked.

The brother replied “No. I’m the chip monk.”
 
One dark night in Dublin, a fire started inside the local chemical plant. In the blink of an eye, it exploded into massive flames. The alarm went out to all the fire departments for miles around. When the firefighters appeared on the scene, the chemical company president rushed to the fireman in charge and said, “All our secret formulas are in the vault in the center of the plant. They must be saved. I will give 50,000 pounds to the fire department that brings them out intact.”

But the roaring flames held the firefighters off. Soon more fire departments had to be called in as the situation became desperate. As the firemen arrived, the president shouted out that the offer was now 100,000 pounds to the fire station who could bring out the company’s secret files. But still, the firefighters could not get through.

From the distance, a lone siren was heard as another fire truck came into sight. It was the nearby rural township volunteer fire brigade, composed mainly of old men over 65. To everyone’s amazement, that little run-down fire engine roared right past all the newer sleek engines that were parked outside the plant. Without even slowing down it drove straight into the middle of the inferno.

Outside, the other firemen watched as the old timers jumped off right in the middle of the fire and fought it back on all sides. It was a performance and effort never seen before. Within a short time, the old timers had extinguished the fire and had saved the secret formulas. The grateful chemical company president announced that for such a superhuman feat he was upping the reward to 200,000 pounds and walked over to personally thank each of the brave firefighters.

The local TV station caught the thank you on film and asked the chief, “What are you going to do with all that money?”

“Well,” said Paddy, the 70-year-old fire chief, “the first thing we’re gonna do is fix the brakes on that bloody fire truck.”
 
Happy Daddy
A mother and father read a bedtime story of a king to their five year old son.
As the story concludes, the son says, “Mom, I also want five wives. One will cook, one will sing, one will bathe me…”
Mom: “And one will put you to sleep!”
Son: “No mom, I will still sleep with you.”
Mom’s eyes fill up with tears: “God bless you son.”
Mom continues: “But who will sleep with your 5 wives?”
Son: “Let them sleep with daddy.”
Daddy’s eyes fill up with tears: “God bless you son.”
 
I’ve always suffered with a bad back. For years and years, I went to the docs, pleading for them to do something. He referred me to another specialist.

When I saw him, he said there’s a cure in America, but it’s sixty thousand dollars. I said I don’t care, I'll try anything. What’s the cure? I asked, he said well they inject mercury into the spine. Wow isn’t that dangerous. No he said, it’s safe, but there is a drawback.

What’s that I asked. He said, well In summer you’re nine foot three, and in winter you’re two foot six.
 
A knockout young lady decided she wanted to get rich quick so she proceeded to find herself a rich 73-year-old man, planning to love him to death on their wedding night. The courtship and wedding went off without any problem, in spite of the half-century age difference.

The first night of her honeymoon, she got undressed, and waited for him to come out of the bathroom to come to bed.

When he emerged, however, he had nothing on except a rubber to cover a twelve-inch erection, and was carrying a pair of earplugs and a pair of noseplugs.

Fearing her plan had gone desperately amiss, she asked, “What are those for?”

The elderly gentleman replied, “There are two things I can’t stand: the sound of a woman screaming, and the smell of burning rubber!”
 
Finding one of her students making faces at others on the playground, Ms. Smith stopped to gently reprove the child.

Smiling sweetly, the Sunday School teacher said, Johnny, when I was a child, I was told if that I made ugly faces, it would freeze and I would stay like that.

Johnny looked up and replied, Well, Ms. Smith, you can't say you weren’t warned.
 
My friend just phoned and asked me if I could loan her $500 to help her pay her rent... And you know me always willing to help my friends and family out... I told her..."give me a minute let me check my account and I'll phone u right back." Before I could check my account my friend's mom phones and says, "Don’t give her any money because she's lying.” Mom proceeds to tell me that she wants to use that $500 to get her boyfriend out of jail because she wants to be under the same roof with him for her birthday!!!

So I thought about it for a minute, and decided to go ahead and give her the $500 cuz we all need help at times... So I phoned her back and said, "yea, I can help you" and met her and gave her an envelope of cash.

A couple hours later, I got a call from the County Jail, I say hello and she starts screaming and asking, “Why did you give me counterfeit money?!"

I replied: " so you and your boyfriend would be under the same roof for your birthday!!!"
 
A new virus which is spreading a hundred times quicker then Coronavirus has been discovered, the imasthickasshit virus affects people’s ability to social distance properly, people with the imasthickasshit virus will go out to parks and beauty spots in their droves with no worries about spreading the Coronavirus. Doctors think that Coronavirus and imasthickasshit virus could be connected, but are worried by the speed imasthickasshit virus is spreading, if you see a group of people drinking beers in a public area please keep well clear of them!
 
OK, hope this is better. Long, but funny.

In honor of colorectal cancer awareness month and to persuade you there’s absolutely no reason to put off getting screened I’m sharing this hilarious colonoscopy journal written by Dave Barry.

I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis.

Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn’t really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, ‘HE’S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!’

I left Andy’s office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called ‘MoviPrep,’ which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America’s enemies.

I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn’t eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor.

Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons).

Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes – and here I am being kind – like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon. The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, ‘a loose watery bowel movement may result.’ This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.

MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don’t want to be too graphic, here, but:

Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet..

After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, ‘What if I spurt on Andy?’ How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.

At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actuall y naked.

Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand.

Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep.

At first was ticked off that I hadn’t thought of this, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode.

You would have no choice but to burn your house. When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anaesthetist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere.

I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anaesthetist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was ‘Dancing Queen’ by Abba. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, ‘Dancing Queen’ has to be the least appropriate. ‘You want me to turn it up?’ said Andy, from somewhere behind me.. ‘Ha ha,’ I said.

And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade.

If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like:

I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, Abba was shrieking ‘Dancing Queen! Feel the beat from the tambourine …’ and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors.

I have never been prouder of an internal organ.

[ABOUT THE WRITER: Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.]
 
Aussie67 said:
OK, hope this is better. Long, but funny.

In honor of colorectal cancer awareness month and to persuade you there’s absolutely no reason to put off getting screened I’m sharing this hilarious colonoscopy journal written by Dave Barry.

I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis.

Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn’t really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, ‘HE’S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!’

I left Andy’s office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called ‘MoviPrep,’ which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America’s enemies.

I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn’t eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor.

Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons).

Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes – and here I am being kind – like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon. The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, ‘a loose watery bowel movement may result.’ This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.

MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don’t want to be too graphic, here, but:

Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet..

After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, ‘What if I spurt on Andy?’ How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.

At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actuall y naked.

Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand.

Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep.

At first was ticked off that I hadn’t thought of this, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode.

You would have no choice but to burn your house. When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anaesthetist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere.

I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anaesthetist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was ‘Dancing Queen’ by Abba. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, ‘Dancing Queen’ has to be the least appropriate. ‘You want me to turn it up?’ said Andy, from somewhere behind me.. ‘Ha ha,’ I said.

And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade.

If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like:

I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, Abba was shrieking ‘Dancing Queen! Feel the beat from the tambourine …’ and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors.

I have never been prouder of an internal organ.

[ABOUT THE WRITER: Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.]
Click to expand...

Every word is true


Mark
 
A married couple was in a terrible accident where the woman's face was severely burned. The doctor told the husband that they couldn't graft any skin from her body because she was too skinny. So the husband offered to donate some of his own skin.

However, the only skin on his body that the doctor felt was suitable would have to come from his buttocks.

The husband and wife agreed that they would tell no one about where the skin came from, and requested that the doctor also honor their secret. After all, this was a very delicate matter.

After the surgery was completed, everyone was astounded at the woman's new beauty. She looked more beautiful than she ever had before! All her friends and relatives just went on and on about her youthful beauty!

One day, she was alone with her husband, and she was overcome with emotion at his sacrifice. She said, "Dear, I just want to thank you for everything you did for me. How can I possibly repay you?"

"My darling," he replied, "I get all the thanks I need every time I see your mother kiss you on the cheek."
 
msell66 said:
Every word is true


Mark
Click to expand...

Not so much for me. Found a bunch of polyps, want to do it again in 3 years. Forgot to mention that after the second round of MoviPrep you are so sore that it burns to even think about touching it, wiping OMG no. :eek:

fd
 
Next time you have a bad day at work... think of this guy. Rob is a commercial saturation Diver for a Diving company in Western Australia. He performs underwater repairs on offshore drilling rigs. Below is an E-mail he sent to his sister. She then sent it to a radio station in Perth, who was sponsoring a worst job experience contest. Needless to say, she won.

G'day Sue,

Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad day at the office. I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all. Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job.

As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wetsuit.

This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is this. We have a diesel powered industrial 'water heater'; This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver through a hose, which is taped to the side of the suit. I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit. This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi. Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my arse started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse.

Within a few seconds my arse started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was already done. In agony I realized what had happened. The machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it. However, the crack of my arse was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my arse.

I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all in fits of hysterical laughter. I was then instructed to make three agonizing in-water compression stops totalling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet. As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my arse as soon as I got into the chamber. Yes the cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my arse was swollen shut.

So, next time you're having a bad day at work,think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your arse.

Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job".
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top