there are some Jokes
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That's easy to answer. Congress isn't financing NASA to search for intelligent life in your kitchen. They have the NSA for that.
Redneck Vasectomy
After having their 11th child, an Alabama couple decided that was enough, as they could not afford a larger bed. So the husband went to his veterinarian and told him that he and his cousin didn't want to have any more children. The doctor told him that there was a procedure called a vasectomy that could fix the problem but that it was expensive.
"A less costly alternative," said the doctor, "is to go home, get a cherry bomb," (fireworks are legal in Alabama) "light it, put it in a beer can, then hold the can up to your ear and count to 10.
The Alabamian said to the doctor, "I may not be the smartest tool in the shed, but I don't see how putting a cherry bomb in a beer can next to my ear is going to help me."
"Trust me," said the doctor. So the man went home, lit a cherry bomb and put it in a beer can. He held the can up to his ear and began to count... 1...2....3...4...5... At which point he paused, placed the beer can between his legs and resumed counting on his other hand.
This procedure also works in Tennessee, Indiana, Arkansas, Mississippi, West Virginia, and Wayne County, Iowa.
After having their 11th child, an Alabama couple decided that was enough, as they could not afford a larger bed. So the husband went to his veterinarian and told him that he and his cousin didn't want to have any more children. The doctor told him that there was a procedure called a vasectomy that could fix the problem but that it was expensive.
"A less costly alternative," said the doctor, "is to go home, get a cherry bomb," (fireworks are legal in Alabama) "light it, put it in a beer can, then hold the can up to your ear and count to 10.
The Alabamian said to the doctor, "I may not be the smartest tool in the shed, but I don't see how putting a cherry bomb in a beer can next to my ear is going to help me."
"Trust me," said the doctor. So the man went home, lit a cherry bomb and put it in a beer can. He held the can up to his ear and began to count... 1...2....3...4...5... At which point he paused, placed the beer can between his legs and resumed counting on his other hand.
This procedure also works in Tennessee, Indiana, Arkansas, Mississippi, West Virginia, and Wayne County, Iowa.
Chauncey Gardener
Flashaholic
👆That's messed up. The POS committed murder.
PhotonWrangler
Flashaholic
When autocorrect makes things way worse
PhotonWrangler
Flashaholic
Bruce Lee was fast, but his brother Sudden was faster.
PhotonWrangler
Flashaholic
The other night, I went out with the girls for a much-needed night of fun. Before leaving, I reassured my husband, "I'll be home by midnight, I promise!" But as these things go, time flew by, and the margaritas flowed a little too freely. At around 3 a.m., a bit tipsy, I finally made my way home.
As soon as I walked in the door, I heard the ****oo clock in the hallway chime three times. My heart sank. I knew my husband would hear it and realize I was way past my promised curfew. But then, in my margarita-fueled genius, I had an idea! I quickly mimicked the clock, adding nine extra ****oos. "There!" I thought proudly. "3 ****oos plus 9 ****oos equals 12! That's midnight!" Problem solved—at least in my tipsy logic.
The next morning, my husband casually asked, "What time did you get home last night?" With the confidence of someone who'd pulled off a masterful deception, I replied, "Midnight, just like I said!"
He didn't seem mad at all. In fact, he just nodded and went back to drinking his coffee. I was secretly patting myself on the back for being so clever. That is, until he looked up and said, "We need a new ****oo clock."
Confused, I asked, "Why?"
He smiled and said, "Well, last night it ****ooed three times, muttered 'oh crap,' ****ooed four more times, cleared its throat, ****ooed three more times, giggled, ****ooed twice, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted."
As soon as I walked in the door, I heard the ****oo clock in the hallway chime three times. My heart sank. I knew my husband would hear it and realize I was way past my promised curfew. But then, in my margarita-fueled genius, I had an idea! I quickly mimicked the clock, adding nine extra ****oos. "There!" I thought proudly. "3 ****oos plus 9 ****oos equals 12! That's midnight!" Problem solved—at least in my tipsy logic.
The next morning, my husband casually asked, "What time did you get home last night?" With the confidence of someone who'd pulled off a masterful deception, I replied, "Midnight, just like I said!"
He didn't seem mad at all. In fact, he just nodded and went back to drinking his coffee. I was secretly patting myself on the back for being so clever. That is, until he looked up and said, "We need a new ****oo clock."
Confused, I asked, "Why?"
He smiled and said, "Well, last night it ****ooed three times, muttered 'oh crap,' ****ooed four more times, cleared its throat, ****ooed three more times, giggled, ****ooed twice, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted."
Chauncey Gardener
Flashaholic
Chauncey Gardener
Flashaholic
That's a hilarious story.
Yes, depends on which place you eat at and if it's in Manhattan.
PhotonWrangler
Flashaholic
Chauncey Gardener
Flashaholic
Chauncey Gardener
Flashaholic
Chauncey Gardener
Flashaholic
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