Weedman420o
New member
Oh shit somebody call the cops because y'all killed it (Cringe worthy)
-
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A guy comes into a bar one day and says to the barman, "Give me six double vodkas."
The barman says, "Wow! You must have had one hell of a day."
"Yes, I've just found out my older brother is gay."
The next day the same guy comes into the bar again and asks for the same drinks. When the bartender asks what the problem was today, the guy says,
"I've just found out my younger brother is gay too!"
On the third day the guy comes back into the bar yet again and orders another six double vodkas.
The barman says "JESUS! Doesn't anybody in your family like women?"
"Yeah! Says the guy, "My wife..."
The barman says, "Wow! You must have had one hell of a day."
"Yes, I've just found out my older brother is gay."
The next day the same guy comes into the bar again and asks for the same drinks. When the bartender asks what the problem was today, the guy says,
"I've just found out my younger brother is gay too!"
On the third day the guy comes back into the bar yet again and orders another six double vodkas.
The barman says "JESUS! Doesn't anybody in your family like women?"
"Yeah! Says the guy, "My wife..."
> It had rained hard and a big puddle had formed in front of an Irish pub.
> An old man stood beside the puddle holding a stick with a string on the
> far end. Every so often he would bounce the string up and down in the
> water.
>
> A curious Englishman asked what he was doing.
>
> "Fishing," replied the old man.
>
> "Poor old fellow," thought the gentleman, so he invited the old man to
> have a drink in the pub.
>
> Feeling he should engage the old guy in some conversation while they were
> sipping their whisky, the gentleman asked, "How many have you caught?"
>
> The old man replied, "You're the eighth."
> An old man stood beside the puddle holding a stick with a string on the
> far end. Every so often he would bounce the string up and down in the
> water.
>
> A curious Englishman asked what he was doing.
>
> "Fishing," replied the old man.
>
> "Poor old fellow," thought the gentleman, so he invited the old man to
> have a drink in the pub.
>
> Feeling he should engage the old guy in some conversation while they were
> sipping their whisky, the gentleman asked, "How many have you caught?"
>
> The old man replied, "You're the eighth."
A young boy is out riding his brand new bicycle when he is stopped by a police officer riding a horse. The policeman says to the boy, "Did Santa Claus bring you that new bike for Christmas?"
The boy says, "He sure did." The policeman responds by saying with a grin, "Well next year, tell Santa to bring you a taillight for that bike. Here's a bicycle safety violation ticket for $25."
The boy asks the cop, "So did Santa bring you that horse for Christmas?"
The policeman jokingly says, "Yes he did."
The boy responds, "Well next year tell Santa to put the dick under the horse instead of on top"
The boy says, "He sure did." The policeman responds by saying with a grin, "Well next year, tell Santa to bring you a taillight for that bike. Here's a bicycle safety violation ticket for $25."
The boy asks the cop, "So did Santa bring you that horse for Christmas?"
The policeman jokingly says, "Yes he did."
The boy responds, "Well next year tell Santa to put the dick under the horse instead of on top"
Two good ol' boys in a Alabama trailer park were sitting around talking one afternoon over a cold beer after getting off work at the local Nissan plant. After a while the 1st guy says to the 2nd, "If'n I was to sneak over to your trailer Saturday & make love to your wife while you was off huntin' and she got pregnant and had a baby, would that make us kin?” The 2nd guy crooked his head sideways for a minute, scratched his head and squinted his eyes thinking real hard about the question. Finally, he says, "Well, I don't know about kin, but it would make us even!"
Have a good day, y'all !
Have a good day, y'all !
in turn, several potential 2016 candidates were invited to stay overnight in the White House by president Obama, and as is custom they were to stay in the Lincoln bedroom.
While Chris Christie was staying overnight he prayed for guidance if he were to become president, Abraham Lincolns ghost appeared before him and instructed him to "strike down any and all prejudices in the USA as peace & prosperity cannot be attained without these equalities."
Mark Dutter was drifting off to sleep while hoping to find the answers to this country's issues when the spirit of Abe Lincoln fills the room and tells him "use your powers to tax the rich, create jobs, housing and education, balance the scales of wealth."
Finally Hillary Clinton is invited to stay the night and as she's seeking solutions to the problems in the states Lincoln's ghost materializes before her, she begs him for help in fixing our country's woes. "Hillary" Lincoln says, "I suggest that you attend the theater and take a seat in the balcony......."
Do you drink?" asked the doctor.
"no" he replied.
"Smoke?"
"Gave up ten years ago, never looked back."
"Do you eat healthily?"
"Mostly vegetables and a little protein twice a week."
"Then I'm afraid I can confirm your diagnosis," he said. "You ARE a self-righteous little prick."
"no" he replied.
"Smoke?"
"Gave up ten years ago, never looked back."
"Do you eat healthily?"
"Mostly vegetables and a little protein twice a week."
"Then I'm afraid I can confirm your diagnosis," he said. "You ARE a self-righteous little prick."
A young man in college got a lesson in the power of moral freedom and self-determination, as well as a classical education.
He needed something to spike that big A in his class so he decided he had to get out and meet people in actual, active research that seemed to have some authority - so he came up with a genius idea: ask old people what led them to fight through life's disappointing challenges.
So he goes down to the old folks home and there's these guys out on the front porch rocking, and he nods; goes in and gets permission to ask a few pertinent questions, and heads out front to inquire what the secret to a long life really seems to be.
He asks three old guys their stories and the first one says ''Well, I was a cowboy when I was young, working in the high Rockies weeks on end. The quiet and pastoral lifestyle gave me an easy going, laid back outlook on life that went well with the wholesome diet and I never really had much of a care except that I did a good job as a cowboy. LIfe's been filled with many wonders. You have to be true to a really wholesome life style, without too many physical needs or material desires. This I feel, is the key to my own longivity.''
Moved a little, the kid asked the old man ''Well sir... how many years and decades have you been pondering on the wisdom of this in life?"
''I am 88 years old.''
So the kid says thanks and to the second man he nods toward the recorder and says ''Please sir share the secret of meaning in your long life.''
''I worked as a pastor for a little church I founded feeding the poor and hungry on the streets of inner cities.
I was mugged 7 times,
stabbed once,
and met the love of my life,
a lost wonderful librarian and married her,
on the streets of some of America's toughest ghettos.
I shared so much of the love of Jesus that I simply had extra love left over, I suppose.
I've outlived my first wife, the love of my life, and then my second wife. Here I am today to tell you that sharing the love Jesus Christ exemplified
will keep you young far, FAR beyond your normal years.''
Rather moved by THIS guy, he sorta stared down at his pants leg a few seconds, and said, trying to make sure an actual real tear didn't fall, ''Well sir, how old ARE you?''
''Young man I am 97 years old, and I can tell you, I saw the wisdom in what I was doing, already, by the time I was forty. I didn't seem to age like other men. I was always happy, even when I was giving a poor downtrodden child of our Lord my very last dime. Hope, and love, son, are the keys to a happy life, coupled most especially with the kind of wholesome living my Cowboy friend here partook in, as he pondered the deepest depths of philosophical happiness gazing out at some of our Creator's finest masterpieces: natural sunsets and changing seasons of our great natural outdoors.''
The young man felt like he had stumbled into a realm where... something intangible, something exalted, something... holy, had punched through the dreary disconnection to the good life, the rewarding life of gentle introspection and kindness even at ones' own cost in dollars, material holdings or comfort.
Turning to the third old wrinkled little man, his hair gone, obviously he hadn't any dentures in today, mismatched socks - the very picture of life toward the end, long after the earning years.
''Sir, would you tell me your story? I know it might not be as grand as this mans, or as contemplative and well led as this one's, but I know you have a worthy story to tell that will lend as much clarity to my PhD as either of these gentlemen.''
The old man sagged a little in his chair, and looking down at his own lap, resting his bird's bones forearms on the armrests of his wheelchair, he shook his head up and down a little signaling he realized he had a contribution just as the others did, and began the story of his evolution.
''I was born to parents who were intellectuals; professors at a famous college they brought me up to love the fine things, the uplifted things, the refined; but early on I showed an ungovernable, stubborn streak that saw me through some things, and held me back a little bit in others. When I was only a boy of 12, I was sneaking cigarettes with the older boys at the college my parents worked at, and by 15, I was running the streets with a knife in one pocket and a bottle of booze in the other. I beat a young man down with a pipe one night when I was fueled on cocaine and cheap whiskey and had to flee the place of my youth with it's towering trees and ivy covered walls. I went out on the road, joined the circus, did that for awhile, then i became a bouncer in one of the most upscale celebrity watering holes, in one of the biggest cities in our country. I schmoozed with the biggest stars, I did dope in bathrooms, in coat closets, slept with famous peoples' women, I drank single malt scotch and nothing else because I had the dope connections to let me make the call to anybody, any time, to get what I needed."
"I had a tremendous physique back then, and a jawline made for movies. When I walked into a room women got wet; men felt weak. I wasn't all worn out from the nearly endless debauchery I engaged in for years back then, and would lead the parties for days, laughing at the lightweights, and setting the standard for the amount of alcohol, cigarettes and spilled cocaine found in hotel rooms I demolished; I used civilization as a door mat while I took, took, took.
Unfortunately it seems I have gotten away with, what others continually claim in their superstitious ignorance, is impossible: a life of vice and addiction,
every pleasure sated before I did anything at all for anyone, and only then, so I could get whatever I wanted next. I lived for myself, and in doing that, I became known as one of those people seen in exotic locations worldwide hanging around with the rich, and the beautiful. Normal morality is for normal losers. I was above it, I knew I was, and I proved I was. Those other straight lacers were saps. Here I am just like them and what have they got to show for what they did? Have they enjoyed their life? Pffft. They SAY they did but how could they compared to what I've told you I did?''
Well naturally the young PhD candidate was stunned to hear about the widely disparate conditions of all these ancient and storied characters' lives, and this brought to his understanding a new sense of just how narrow the outlook of people can be, if they haven't really gone and done the research about how life CAN be led, asking the questions others aren't really interested in hearing the truthful answers to.
Understanding this old man had single handedly made him decide to eat more ice cream, have another micro brew beer with his meal, smile and flirt with more ladies, he tilted his head as he reached for his recorder which had sat on the table through all three of these indefatigable individuals' fascinating stories.
Enraptured with realizing his work was sure to infuriate his more straitlaced compatriots in the social statistics field, he smiled with victorious elation as his hand hovered on the 'STOP' button of his recorder.
''...So.. you feel like the secret to life is to just love what you're doing, and not let a false sense of prudery limit your experience and pleasure as you pursue a life you prefer, rather than simply lay down and go the route of the followers, the sheeple, the humaniherd?"
"That's right son, all that fresh air and spirit of love sh**'s just a giant CON. There's nothing to it once you realize how much it really LIMITS your accomplishments in life.''
''That's stunning to me,'' said the student. ''Well sir... after all you've seen, I want to ask YOU - how old are YOU?''
Lifting his head to look out from beneath his untrimmed eyebrows which scraggled across a weathered, beaten up old crag of a face, he revealed how long he had held on to the internal dignity which kept him alive through hell on earth.
"I am TWENTY NINE YEARS OLD this comin' THURSD'Y BOY.''
He needed something to spike that big A in his class so he decided he had to get out and meet people in actual, active research that seemed to have some authority - so he came up with a genius idea: ask old people what led them to fight through life's disappointing challenges.
So he goes down to the old folks home and there's these guys out on the front porch rocking, and he nods; goes in and gets permission to ask a few pertinent questions, and heads out front to inquire what the secret to a long life really seems to be.
He asks three old guys their stories and the first one says ''Well, I was a cowboy when I was young, working in the high Rockies weeks on end. The quiet and pastoral lifestyle gave me an easy going, laid back outlook on life that went well with the wholesome diet and I never really had much of a care except that I did a good job as a cowboy. LIfe's been filled with many wonders. You have to be true to a really wholesome life style, without too many physical needs or material desires. This I feel, is the key to my own longivity.''
Moved a little, the kid asked the old man ''Well sir... how many years and decades have you been pondering on the wisdom of this in life?"
''I am 88 years old.''
So the kid says thanks and to the second man he nods toward the recorder and says ''Please sir share the secret of meaning in your long life.''
''I worked as a pastor for a little church I founded feeding the poor and hungry on the streets of inner cities.
I was mugged 7 times,
stabbed once,
and met the love of my life,
a lost wonderful librarian and married her,
on the streets of some of America's toughest ghettos.
I shared so much of the love of Jesus that I simply had extra love left over, I suppose.
I've outlived my first wife, the love of my life, and then my second wife. Here I am today to tell you that sharing the love Jesus Christ exemplified
will keep you young far, FAR beyond your normal years.''
Rather moved by THIS guy, he sorta stared down at his pants leg a few seconds, and said, trying to make sure an actual real tear didn't fall, ''Well sir, how old ARE you?''
''Young man I am 97 years old, and I can tell you, I saw the wisdom in what I was doing, already, by the time I was forty. I didn't seem to age like other men. I was always happy, even when I was giving a poor downtrodden child of our Lord my very last dime. Hope, and love, son, are the keys to a happy life, coupled most especially with the kind of wholesome living my Cowboy friend here partook in, as he pondered the deepest depths of philosophical happiness gazing out at some of our Creator's finest masterpieces: natural sunsets and changing seasons of our great natural outdoors.''
The young man felt like he had stumbled into a realm where... something intangible, something exalted, something... holy, had punched through the dreary disconnection to the good life, the rewarding life of gentle introspection and kindness even at ones' own cost in dollars, material holdings or comfort.
Turning to the third old wrinkled little man, his hair gone, obviously he hadn't any dentures in today, mismatched socks - the very picture of life toward the end, long after the earning years.
''Sir, would you tell me your story? I know it might not be as grand as this mans, or as contemplative and well led as this one's, but I know you have a worthy story to tell that will lend as much clarity to my PhD as either of these gentlemen.''
The old man sagged a little in his chair, and looking down at his own lap, resting his bird's bones forearms on the armrests of his wheelchair, he shook his head up and down a little signaling he realized he had a contribution just as the others did, and began the story of his evolution.
''I was born to parents who were intellectuals; professors at a famous college they brought me up to love the fine things, the uplifted things, the refined; but early on I showed an ungovernable, stubborn streak that saw me through some things, and held me back a little bit in others. When I was only a boy of 12, I was sneaking cigarettes with the older boys at the college my parents worked at, and by 15, I was running the streets with a knife in one pocket and a bottle of booze in the other. I beat a young man down with a pipe one night when I was fueled on cocaine and cheap whiskey and had to flee the place of my youth with it's towering trees and ivy covered walls. I went out on the road, joined the circus, did that for awhile, then i became a bouncer in one of the most upscale celebrity watering holes, in one of the biggest cities in our country. I schmoozed with the biggest stars, I did dope in bathrooms, in coat closets, slept with famous peoples' women, I drank single malt scotch and nothing else because I had the dope connections to let me make the call to anybody, any time, to get what I needed."
"I had a tremendous physique back then, and a jawline made for movies. When I walked into a room women got wet; men felt weak. I wasn't all worn out from the nearly endless debauchery I engaged in for years back then, and would lead the parties for days, laughing at the lightweights, and setting the standard for the amount of alcohol, cigarettes and spilled cocaine found in hotel rooms I demolished; I used civilization as a door mat while I took, took, took.
Unfortunately it seems I have gotten away with, what others continually claim in their superstitious ignorance, is impossible: a life of vice and addiction,
every pleasure sated before I did anything at all for anyone, and only then, so I could get whatever I wanted next. I lived for myself, and in doing that, I became known as one of those people seen in exotic locations worldwide hanging around with the rich, and the beautiful. Normal morality is for normal losers. I was above it, I knew I was, and I proved I was. Those other straight lacers were saps. Here I am just like them and what have they got to show for what they did? Have they enjoyed their life? Pffft. They SAY they did but how could they compared to what I've told you I did?''
Well naturally the young PhD candidate was stunned to hear about the widely disparate conditions of all these ancient and storied characters' lives, and this brought to his understanding a new sense of just how narrow the outlook of people can be, if they haven't really gone and done the research about how life CAN be led, asking the questions others aren't really interested in hearing the truthful answers to.
Understanding this old man had single handedly made him decide to eat more ice cream, have another micro brew beer with his meal, smile and flirt with more ladies, he tilted his head as he reached for his recorder which had sat on the table through all three of these indefatigable individuals' fascinating stories.
Enraptured with realizing his work was sure to infuriate his more straitlaced compatriots in the social statistics field, he smiled with victorious elation as his hand hovered on the 'STOP' button of his recorder.
''...So.. you feel like the secret to life is to just love what you're doing, and not let a false sense of prudery limit your experience and pleasure as you pursue a life you prefer, rather than simply lay down and go the route of the followers, the sheeple, the humaniherd?"
"That's right son, all that fresh air and spirit of love sh**'s just a giant CON. There's nothing to it once you realize how much it really LIMITS your accomplishments in life.''
''That's stunning to me,'' said the student. ''Well sir... after all you've seen, I want to ask YOU - how old are YOU?''
Lifting his head to look out from beneath his untrimmed eyebrows which scraggled across a weathered, beaten up old crag of a face, he revealed how long he had held on to the internal dignity which kept him alive through hell on earth.
"I am TWENTY NINE YEARS OLD this comin' THURSD'Y BOY.''
I was in the restaurant yesterday. I quietly realized, I needed to break wind. The music in the place, was really, really loud, and out of place too: line dance country music. I figured WTF but lucky is, as lucky works the deal it finds, so I timed my gas passing, with the beat of the music.
"Oh, Heel, toe, do-see-doh, c'mon baby LeTS GO, BOOT SCOOT'n... BAhMP, BahMP BAHMP!"
"CadiLLaC, BLaCK JaCK, Baby, Meet Me OUT BACK we're gonna BOOGIE! BahMP, BahMP, BAhMP!!
And every time that all those instruments would go BAhMP, BahMP, BAhMP!!,
I'd let out a full, satisfying, intestine-stretch relieving, fart: Fart, FaRT, FART!
After a couple of songs, I began to feel better. I felt like somebody took an anvil out of my guts and I could kinda breathe again.
I sat there in the booth swinging my knees and finishing my coffee, and raised my arm and waved at the girl, and yelled over the music,
''SCUSE ME! I WANNA PAY up and GO!!
As I tipped back my arm to reach for my wallet, and kinda glanced down at myself, I noticed something I had forgotten:
I had walked into the resturaunt with my Ipod on, and the volume up on 'high' while I ate my breakfast.
There wasn't any music at ALL on in that Dennys except my own Ipod.
"Oh, Heel, toe, do-see-doh, c'mon baby LeTS GO, BOOT SCOOT'n... BAhMP, BahMP BAHMP!"
"CadiLLaC, BLaCK JaCK, Baby, Meet Me OUT BACK we're gonna BOOGIE! BahMP, BahMP, BAhMP!!
And every time that all those instruments would go BAhMP, BahMP, BAhMP!!,
I'd let out a full, satisfying, intestine-stretch relieving, fart: Fart, FaRT, FART!
After a couple of songs, I began to feel better. I felt like somebody took an anvil out of my guts and I could kinda breathe again.
I sat there in the booth swinging my knees and finishing my coffee, and raised my arm and waved at the girl, and yelled over the music,
''SCUSE ME! I WANNA PAY up and GO!!
As I tipped back my arm to reach for my wallet, and kinda glanced down at myself, I noticed something I had forgotten:
I had walked into the resturaunt with my Ipod on, and the volume up on 'high' while I ate my breakfast.
There wasn't any music at ALL on in that Dennys except my own Ipod.
