A married couple was invited to a Halloween party. That night, as they
were getting ready to go out, the wife said she had developed a migraine
headache and had to stay home. She told her husband to go to the party without her.
“Don’t let me spoil a good time for you,” she said. After further
discussion, he husband put his costume on and went to the party. The wife took some
aspirin and went to bed.

After sleeping for a while, she woke feeling much better and decided
to go to the party and surprise her husband. As she was getting ready, she
thought to herself, “I wonder what my husband really does when I’m not
around.” She then got into a different costume, so her husband wouldn’t
recognize her, and went to the party. Getting there, she stood off to the
side and watched.

There was her husband dancing with one girl after another and getting
very physical with them. She decided to see just how far he would go. She went
up to him and started dancing with him, got very close and whispered that they
should go outside.

Going to one of the cars, they made love. Prior to the midnight
unmasking, she left and went home to wait for her husband to return so she
could confront him.

He arrived home about 1:00 a.m. and climbed into bed. She sat up and
asked “Well, how was the party?” He replied, “It was no fun without you
honey.” She said, “I don’t believe you. I bet you had lots of fun!” He
replied, “Really, Honey. When I got to the party, some of the guys and I
got bored and we went downstairs and played poker all night. But you know, that
guy I loaned my costume to had one hell of a great time.”

Pierre, a VERY brave French fighter pilot, takes his girlfriend, Marie, out for a pleasant little picnic by the River Seine. It’s a beautiful day and love is in the air. Marie leans over to Pierre and says, “Pierre, kiss me!”

Our hero grabs a bottle of Merlot and splashes it on Marie’s lips.

“What are you doing, Pierre?” says the startled Marie.

“I am Pierre ze fighter pilot! When I have red meat, I like to have red wine!”

She smiles and they start kissing. When things began to heat up a little, Marie says, “Pierre, kiss me lower.” Pierre tears her blouse open, grabs a bottle of Chardonnay and starts pouring it all over her chest.

“Pierre! What are you doing?” asks the bewildered Marie.

“I am Pierre ze fighter pilot! When I have white meat, I like to have white wine. They resume their passionate interlude and things really steam up. Marie leans close to his ear and whispers, “Pierre, kiss me lower!”

Our hero rips off her underwear, grabs a bottle of Cognac and pours it in her lap. He strikes a match and lights the Cognac.

Marie shrieks and dives into the river.

Standing waist deep, Marie throws her arms upwards and screams furiously, “PIERRE, WHAT IN HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?”

Our hero stands up defiantly and says, “I am Pierre ze fighter pilot! And when I go down, I go down in flames!”

Steven Wright

Ads in Bills:
Have you ever noticed that they put advertisements in with your bills
now? Like bills aren’t distasteful enough, they have to stuff junk mail
in there with them. I get back at them. I put garbage in with my check
when I mail it in. Coffee grinds, banana peels…I write, “Could you
throw this away for me? Thank you.”

Fabric Softener:
My wife uses fabric softener. I never knew what that stuff was for.
Then I noticed women were coming up to me (sniff) ‘Married’ (walk off).
That’s how they mark their territory. You can take off that ring, but
it’s hard to get that April fresh scent out of your clothes.

Cripes My wife’s from the Mid-west. Very nice people there. Very
wholesome. They use words like ‘Cripes.’ For Cripe’s sake. Who would
that be, Jesus Cripes? The son of ‘Gosh?’ of the church of ‘Holy Moly’.
I’m not making fun of it. You think I wanna burn in ‘Heck’?

Morning Differences:
Men and women are different in the morning. The men wake up aroused in
the morning. We can’t help it. We just wake up and we want you. And the
women are thinking, ‘how can he want me the way I look in the morning?’
It’s because we can’t see you. We have no blood anywhere near our optic
nerve.

Pregnancy:
It’s weird when pregnant women feel the baby kicking. They say, ‘Oh my
god. He’s kicking. Do you wanna feel it?’ I always feel awkward
Reaching over there. Come on! It’s weird to ask someone to feel your
stomach. I don’t do that when I have gas. “Oh my god…give me your
hand…It won’t be long now…”

Grandma:
My grandmother has a bumper sticker on her car that says, ‘Sexy Senior
Citizen’. You don’t want to think of your grandmother that way, do you?
Out entering wet shawl contests. Makes you wonder where she got that
dollar she gave you for your birthday.

Reverse Life Cycle:
The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is
tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of
it? A death. What’s that, a bonus? I think the life cycle is all
backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you live
in an old age home. You get kicked out when you’re too young, you get a
gold watch, you got to work. You work forty years until you’re young
enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alchohol, you party, you
get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid,
you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you
go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating…you
finish off as a gleam.

Prisons:
Did you know that it costs forty thousand dollars a year to house each
prisoner? Jeez, for forty thousand bucks a piece I’ll take a few
prisoners into my house] I live in Los Angeles. I already have bars on
the windows. I don’t think we should give free room and board to
criminals. I think they should have to run twelve hours a day on a
treadmill and generate electricity. And if they don’t want to run, they
can rest in the chair that’s hooked up to the generator.

Award Shows:
Can you believe how many award shows they have now? They have awards
for commercials. The Cleo Awards. A whole show full of commercials. I
taped it and then I fast-forwarded through the whole thing.

Phone-in Polls:
You know those shows where people call in and vote on different issues?
Did you ever notice there’s always like 18% “I don’t know”. It costs 90
cents to call up and vote…They’re voting “I don’t know.” “Honey, I
feel very strongly about this. Give me the phone. (Into phone) I DON’T
KNOW! (hangs up, looking proud) Sometimes you have to stand up for what
you believe you’re not sure about.” This guy probably calls up phone
sex girls for $2.95. (into phone) “I’m not in the mood.”

Answering Machine:
Did you ever hear one of those corny, positive messages on someone’s
answering machine? “Hi, It’s a great day and I’m out enjoying it right
now. I hope you are too. The thought for the day is ‘Share the love.’”
Beep.” “Uh, yeah…this is the VD clinic calling…Speaking of being
positive, your test is back. Stop sharing the love.”

Redneck Family Tree

Many many years ago when I was twenty three,
I got married to a widow who was pretty as could be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter
Who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her,
And soon the two were wed.
This made my dad my son-in-law
And changed my very life.
My daughter was my mother,
For she was my father’s wife.
To complicate the matters worse,
Although it brought me joy.
I soon became the father
Of a bouncing baby boy.
My little baby then became
A brother-in-law to dad.
And so became my uncle,
Though it made me very sad.
For if he was my uncle,
Then that also made him brother
To the widow’s grown-up daughter
Who, of course, was my step-mother.
Father’s wife then had a son,
Who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
For he was my daughter’s son.
My wife is now my mother’s mother
And it makes me blue.
Because, although she is my wife,
She’s my grandma too.
If my wife is my grandmother,
Then I am her grandchild.
And every time I think of it,
It simply drives me wild.
For now I have become
The strangest case you ever saw.
As the husband of my grandmother,

I am my own grandpa!!

Top Ten Signs Your Co-worker Is a Computer Hacker:

10. You ticked him off once and your next phone bill was for $20,000.

9. He’s won the Publisher’s Clearing House sweepstakes 3 years running.

8. When asked for his phone number, he gives it in hex.

7. Seems strangely calm whenever the office LAN goes down.

6. Somehow gets HBO on his PC at work.

5. Mumbled, “Oh, puh-leeez” 95 times during the movie “The Net”.

4. Massive 401k contribution made in half-cent increments.

3. His video dating profile lists “public-key encryption” among
turn-ons.

2. For his welcome voice on AOL, you hear, “Good Morning, Mr.
President”.

… and the Number One Sign Your Co-worker Is a Computer Hacker:

1. You hear him murmur, “Let’s see you use that Visa now, Professor
I-Don’t-Give-A’s-In-Computer-Science!”

An old one, but a good one!

A teenage boy has a hot date one evening so he decides to buy some condoms. He goes into the pharmacy and sees that there are 3, 9, and 12 packs of condoms. He talks to the pharmacists and says his date that night is really hot so he decides to go with the 12 pack. That evening, he eats dinner with his date and her family and they ask him to say grace. He proceeds to do so and then continues to keep his head down and prays. After a while, his date says I didn’t know you were such a religious person. He replies, “I didn’t know your dad was a pharmacist!”

Be careful that you type in the right address when you send an e-mail. Who knows what might happen: A businessman from Wisconsin went on a business trip to Louisiana. Upon arrival, he immediately plugged his laptop into the hotel room port and sent a short E-mail back home to his wife, Jennifer Johnson, at her address, JennJohn@world.net. Unfortunately, in his haste, he mistyped a letter and the E-mail ended up going to JeanJohn@world.net, a Jean Johnson in Duluth, the wife of a preacher who had just passed away and was buried that day. The preacher’s wife took one look at the E-mail and promptly fainted. It read: “Arrived safely, but it sure is hot down here!”

This was emailed to me 10/29/1998 and it was one of my favorites. There is some coarse language in it so be warned. If you choose to read it then click the Read More link below!

Hello, my name is Alfonso Merkin. I am suffering from rare and deadly diseases, poor scores on final exams, lack of sexual activity,fear of being kidnapped and executed by anal electrocution, and guilt for not sending out 50 billion fucking forwards sent to me by people who actually believe that if you send them, that poor 6 year old girl in Arkansas with lung cancer brought on by second-hand smoke from the cigarettes smoked by the big bad men who kidnapped her and took pornographic pictures of her for use on their child pornography web site will get 6 fucking cents every time you send me the letter. Do you honestly believe that Bill Gates is going to give you and everyone you send “his” email to $1000? How fucking stupid are you? Ooooh, looky here! If I scroll down this page and make a wish, I’ll get laid by every Victoria’s Secret model in the catalog! What a bunch of bullshit.

So basically, this message is a big FUCK YOU to all the people out there who have nothing better to do than to send me stupid chain mail forwards. Maybe the evil chain letter leprechauns will come into my apartment and sodomize me in my sleep for not continuing the
chain which was started by Jesus in 5 A.D. and was brought to this country by midget pilgrims on the Mayflower and if it makes it to the year 2000, it’ll be in the Guinness Book of World Records for longest continuous streak of blatant stupidity. Fuck them. If you’re going to forward something, at least send something mildly amusing. I’ve seen all the “send this to 50 of your closest friends, and this poor, wretched excuse for a human being will somehow receive a nickel from some “omniscient being” forwards about 90 times. I don’t fucking care.

Show a little intelligence and think about what you’re actually contributing to by sending out forwards. Chances are it’s your own unpopularity.

P.S.
Please forward this to at least 50 of your best friends

A nun gets into a cab and the cab driver won’t stop
staring at her.

She asks him why is he staring and he replies, “I
have a question to ask you but I don’t want to offend
you.”

She answers, “My dear son, you cannot offend me.
When you’re as old as I am and have been a nun as
long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just
about everything. I’m sure that there’s nothing you
could say or ask that I would find offensive.”

“Well, I’ve always had a fantasy to have a nun perform
oral sex on me.”

She responds, “Well, let’s see what we can do about
that: 1) you have to be single and 2) you must be Catholic.”

The cab driver is very excited and says, “Yes, I am
single and I’m Catholic too!” The nun says, “O.K.,
pull into the next alley.” He does and the nun
fulfills his fantasy. But when they get back on the
road, the cab driver starts crying.

“My dear child, why are you crying?”

“Forgive me sister, but I have sinned. I lied, I must
confess, I’m married and I’m Jewish.”

The nun says, “That’s o.k., my name is Kevin and I’m
on my way to a Halloween Party.”

Online computer users often engage in cyber sex. However, one of the two cyber-surfers in the following transcript doesn’t seem to quite get the point of cyber sex. Then again, maybe he does…
——————————————————————-

Wellhung: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like?

Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I’m toned and perfect. My measurements are 36-24-36. What do you look like?

Read More!

Wellhung: I’m 6′3″ and about 250 pounds. I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Walmart. I’m also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner…it smells funny.

Sweetheart: I want you. Would you like to screw me?

Wellhung: OK

Sweetheart: We’re in my bedroom. There’s soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table. I’m looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.

Wellhung: I’m gulping, I’m beginning to sweat.

Sweetheart: I’m pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.

Wellhung: Now I’m unbuttoning your blouse. My hands are trembling.

Sweetheart: I’m moaning softly.

Wellhung: I’m taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.

Sweetheart: I’m throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk slides off my warm skin. I’m rubbing you bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.

Wellhung: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole in your blouse. I’m sorry.

Sweetheart: That’s OK, it wasn’t really too expensive.

Wellhung: I’ll pay for it.

Sweetheart: Don’t worry about it. I’m wearing a lacy black bra. My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breath harder and harder.

Wellhung: I’m fumbling with the clasp on your bra. I think it’s stuck. Do you have any scissors?

Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly. I’m reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breast. My nipples are erect for you.

Wellhung: How did you do that? I’m picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.

Sweetheart: I’m arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me.

Wellhung: I’m dropping the bra. Now I’m licking your, you know, breasts. They’re neat!

Sweetheart: I’m running my fingers through your hair. Now I’m nibbling your ear.

Wellhung: I suddenly sneeze. Your breast are covered with spit and phlegm.

Sweetheart: What?

Wellhung: I’m so sorry; Really.

Sweetheart: I’m wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.

Wellhung: I’m taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a plop.

Sweetheart: OK. I’m pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing your hard tool.

Wellhung: I’m screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!

Sweetheart: I’m pulling up my miniskirt. Take off my panties.

Wellhung: I’m pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you…umm… wait a minute.

Sweetheart: What’s the matter?

Wellhung: I’ve got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I’m choking.

Sweetheart: Are you OK?

Wellhung: I’m having a coughing fit. I’m turning all red.

Sweetheart: Can I help?

Wellhung: I’m running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I’m fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?

Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.

Wellhung: I’m drinking a cup of water. There, that’s better.

Sweetheart: Come back to me, lover.

Wellhung: I’m washing the cup now.

Sweetheart: I’m on the bed arching for you.

Wellhung: I’m drying the cup. Now I’m putting it back in the cabinet. And now I’m walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it’s dark, I’m lost. Where’s the bedroom?

Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.

Wellhung: I found it.

Sweetheart: I’m tuggin’ off your pants. I’m moaning. I want you so badly.

Wellhung: Me too.

Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately-our naked bodies pressing each other.

Wellhung: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.

Sweetheart Why don’t you take off your glasses?

Wellhung: OK, but I can’t see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table.

Sweetheart: I’m bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!

Wellhung: I have to pee. I’m fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.

Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover.

Wellhung: I find the bathroom and it’s dark. I’m feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid.

Sweetheart: I’m waiting eagerly for your return.

Wellhung: I’m done going. I’m feeling around for the flush handle, but I can’t find it. Uh-oh!

Sweetheart: What’s the matter now?

Wellhung: I’ve realized that I’ve peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I’m walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.

Sweetheart: Mmm, yes. Come on.

Wellhung: OK, now I’m going to put my…you know …thing…in your…you know…woman’s thing.

Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!

Wellhung: I’m touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I’m having a little trouble here.

Sweetheart: I’m moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can’t stand it another second! Slide in! Screw me now!

Wellhung: I’m flaccid.

Sweetheart: What?

Wellhung: I’m limp. I can’t sustain an erection.

Sweetheart: I’m standing up and turning around; an incredulous look on my face.

Wellhung: I’m shrugging with a sad look on my face, my wiener all floppy. I’m going to get my glasses and see what’s wrong.

Sweetheart: No, never mind. I’m getting dressed. I’m putting on my underwear. Now I’m putting on my wet nasty blouse.

Wellhung: No wait! Now I’m squinting, trying to find the night table. I’m feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles.

Sweetheart: I’m buttoning my blouse. Now I’m putting on my shoes.

Wellhung: I’ve found my glasses. I’m putting them on. My God! One of your candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I’m pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.

Sweetheart: Go to hell. I’m logging off, you loser!

Wellhung: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh noooo!

Sweetheart: