This just ain’t your day… (joke)

A lonely young guy driving cross-country picked up a stunning female hitchhiker. Out in the middle of the desert, she started coming on to him. When she offered him some oral pleasure, he pulled over to the side of the road. But once his pants were around his ankles, she pulled out a gun, bound his wrists to his ankles, robbed him of his wallet and clothes, and drove off in his car. After hopping beside the road for miles, a trucker happened along and stopped. “What happened?” asked the trucker and the man explained his plight. The trucker got out of his rig, unzipped his pants, and said, “This just ain’t your day, is it, boy?!”

I Want to Make Love (joke)

Jerry brought home a dozen red roses for his wife. “How lovely, dear,” she said. “What’s the occasion?” “I want to make love to you tonight,” he replied. “Oh, not tonight, dear; I have a headache.” The next night, Jerry brought home a big box of chocolates and again explained that he wanted to make love. “I’m awfully tired, honey,” said his wife. “Not tonight.” Every night for a week Jerry brought home a gift, but every night her answer was no. Finally he brought her six black kittens. “How adorable, Jerry,” she exclaimed. “What are they for?” He said, “They’re six pallbearers for your dead pu$$y!”

Don’t Shave Your Ass Hair!

Don’t Shave

I have recently made one of the biggest mistakes in my life, and I offer my story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble shitting.

No, I was not constipated. This was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my ass-hair had grown to such a length that tiny balls of shit were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my ass-cheeks. It led to much frustration, with me knowing that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butt hair dwelling place. Eventually I would have to do one of two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its ‘Can’t-Be-Flushed’ threshold.

As I was contemplating this problem, I had what seemed at the time to be a brilliant idea. “Hey, this is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don’t I just eliminate all the hair all together, and then my crap will flow out like beer from a keg!” I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements, things like “How many Indians could there be?” said by General Custer. “Looks like a good day for a drive!” by JFK, or “There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!” by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.

I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my ass of hair. Occasionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My ass was smooth as ivory. I smiled; satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.

Little did I know?

I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two ass-cheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.

Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic shit- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky shit/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. And I mean it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.

Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my ass off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4-block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering shit/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my ass cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own shit blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: “It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks.”

Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my ass at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for ass-hair, ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my ass-cheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum-sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.

As if that wasn’t enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing back in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your ass having the texture of a Brillo pad. Well, that’s what I am dealing with now. It is a hellish torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn’t just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.

All I can say is friends don’t shave your ass hair!

The Blonde Genie (joke)

A guy is walking along a beach when he comes across a lamp partially buried in the sand. He picks up the lamp and gives it a rub.

Two blonde genies appear, and they tell him he has been granted three wishes. The guy makes his three wishes and the blonde genies disappear.

The next thing the guy knows, he’s in a bedroom, in a mansion, surrounded by 50 beautiful women. He makes love to all of them and begins to explore the house.

Suddenly he feels something soft under his feet. He looks down and notices the floor is covered in $100 bills.

Next, there’s a knock at the door, so he answers it.

Standing there are two persons dressed in Ku Klux Klan outfits. They drag him outside to the nearest tree, throw a rope over a sturdy limb, and hang him by the neck until he’s dead.

As the Klansmen are walking away, they remove their hoods.

It’s the two blonde genies!

One blonde genie says to the other, “I can understand the first wish–having all those beautiful women in a big mansion to make love to.

I can also understand him wanting to be a millionaire.

But, why he wanted to be hung like a black man is beyond me!”

Military Joke

Military jokes are hilarious because those guys are so darn stiff! Oh – did I just make a funny pun?

A Marine, fresh back from a year at a North African embassy, told his wife, “Honey, I didn’t waste all my time alone over there. Instead, I mastered the art of mind over matter. Watch this!” He dropped his pants and stood naked before her. “Dick, ten-HUT!” And immediately it did. “Dick, at EASE!” And down it went. “That’s amazing,” said his wife. “Would you mind showing that to my friend, Susie?” “Not at all. Go get her.” She left and returned with her hot young next door neighbor. “All right, watch this: Dick, ten-HUT!” Up it went. Then, “Dick, at EASE!” But nothing happened. “Dick, at EASE!” But still nothing. “For the last time, AT EASE!” Nothing. The embarrassed Marine ran to the bathroom while his wife made excuses for him and then headed for the bathroom, where she found him masturbating. “What are you doing?” she demanded. He looked up and replied, “I’m givin’ this son-of-a-b¡tch a dishonorable discharge!”

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More G I Laughs: Real Army Humor
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You can call me Leroy (joke)

A woman walks into the downtown welfare office, trailed by 15 kids… “WOW,” the social worker exclaims, “Are they ALL YOURS???”

“Yep they are all mine,” the flustered momma, sighs having heard that question a thousand times before. She says, “Sit down Leroy.” All the children rush to find seats.

“Well,” says the social worker, “then you must be here to sign up. I’ll need all your children’s names.”

“This one’s my oldest – he is Leroy.”

“OK, and who’s next?”

“Well, this one he is Leroy, also.”

The social worker raises an eyebrow but continues. One by one, through the oldest four, all Boys, all named Leroy. Then she is introduced to the eldest girl, named Leighroy! “All right,” says the caseworker. “I’m seeing a pattern here. Are they ALL named Leroy?”

Their Momma replied, “Well, yes-it makes it easier. When it is time to get them out of bed and ready for school, I yell, ‘Leroy!’ An’ when it’s time for dinner, I just yell ‘Leroy!’ an’ they all comes arunnin.’ An ‘if I need to stop the kid who’s running into the street, I just yell ‘Leroy’ and all of them stop. It’s the smartest idea I ever had, namin’ them all Leroy.”

The social worker thinks this over for a bit, then wrinkles her forehead and says tentatively, “But what if you just want ONE kid to come, and not the whole bunch?”

“I call them by their last names.”

Testing the Monks (joke)

Twelve candidates, nearing completion of their studies, were led into the garden for their final exam before becoming a monk. Each stripped naked and tied a small bell to his penis. “Any man whose bell rings has not reached an adequate state of purity,” announced the abbot. A beautiful nude woman was brought out to dance before each of them in turn. She did her best to excite them, but the first candidate had no reaction, nor did the second, nor the third. But the final monk’s bell rang so loudly it fell off and clattered to the ground. Embarrassed, he bent down to pick it up… and all the other bells went off!

Pour me a drink (joke)

A man sits down on a bar stool and tells the bartender, “Pour me a drink before the trouble starts.” The bartender looks puzzled, but pours him a drink. The man chugs it and says, “Pour me another drink before the trouble starts.” The bartender does and the man downs it as quickly as the first. After a few more rounds, the bartender says, “Look, pal: you’ve had five drinks and all you talk about is ‘some trouble starting.’ Just when is this trouble supposed to start?” The man replies, “Just as soon as you discover I don’t have the money to pay you for these drinks!

Chicken Farmer (joke)

An accountant greeted his rather voluptuous new client and offered her a chair. “Let’s start with the basics. Occupation?” The woman replies, “Whore.” “Oh, no, madam,” said the accountant. “I can’t put that on your tax return.” “Okay. I’m a prostitute.” “No, try again.” “Okay. Call me a chicken farmer.” “Chicken farmer? How’s that?” “Well, last year I raised over 2,000 cocks!”

Early Retirement Bonus (military joke)

The Pentagon had too many Generals and offered an early retirement bonus. They promised any General who would retire early his full annual benefits, plus (in some bureaucratic bungle) $10,000 for every inch measured in a straight line along his body, between two points he chose. General Jones accepted, asking them to measure him from the top of his head to the tip of his toes: 6 feet. He received a bonus of $720,000. General Paul asked them to measure from the tip of his outstretched hands to the tip of his toes: nearly 8 feet. He got a $950,000 bonus. But when they asked General Smith where to measure, he dropped his pants and said, “From the tip of my penis to the tip of my testicles.” The attending physician placed the tape measure on the tip of General Smith’s penis and began to work back. “My God, man! Where are your testicles?” The General grinned. “Vietnam!”