joke of the day..

If you had one of those "I HATE MY #%$& JOB days...

Try this out:

Stop at your pharmacy

Go to the thermometer section

Purchase a rectal thermometer made by Johnson & Johnson (be very sure you get this brand)

When you get home, lock your doors,draw the curtains and disconnect the phone so you will not be disturbed.

Change into very comfortable clothing and sit in your favorite chair.

Open the package and remove the Thermometer.

Now, carefully place it on a table or a flat surface so that it will not become chipped or broken.

Now the fun part begins.

Take out the literature from the box and read it carefully.

You will notice that in small print there is a statement:

"Every rectal thermometer made by Johnson & Johnson is personally tested and then sanitized."

Now, close your eyes and repeat out loud five times,
"I am so glad I do not work in the thermometer quality control department at Johnson & Johnson..."

 

Will be send this one one to fellow Marines with a smile

 

Yes, Henny Youngman was the guy. Thinking he bred Jack Benny?...Those old radio shows are excellent entertainment. Need to use your brain more when listening to radio as opposed to TV. Which is more work than I'm used to.

 

There are three spies that get captured.
One spy is French, one is German and the other is Italian.
Their captors come into the cell and grab the French spy and tie his hands behind a chair in the next room. They torture him for 2 hours before he answers all questions and gives up all of his secrets.
The captors throw the French spy back into the cell and grab the German spy. They tie his hands behind the chair as well and torture him for 4 hours before he tells them what they want to know. They throw him back into the cell and grab the Italian spy.
They tie his hands behind the chair and begin torturing. 4 hours go by and the spy isn't talking. Then 8 hours, then 16 and after 24 hours they give up and throw him back into the cell.
The German and French spy are impressed and ask him how he managed to not talk. The Italian spy responds, " I wanted to!, but I couldn't move my hands!".

 

Three friends married women from different parts of the country.

The first man married a woman from Indiana. He told her that she was... to do the dishes and house cleaning. It took a couple of days, but on the third day, he came home to see a clean house and dishes washed... and put away.

The second man married a woman from Alabama. He gave his wife orders to do all the cleaning, wash dishes, and prepare gourmet meals.
The first day he didn't see any results, but the next day he saw it was better. By the third day, he saw his house was clean, the dishes were done, and there was a huge dinner on the table.

The third man married a girl from Alaska. He ordered her to keep the house cleaned, the dishes washed, the lawn mowed, the laundry
washed and ironed, and hot meals on the table for every meal. He said the first day he didn't see anything, and the second day he didn't see anything, but by the third day, some of the swelling had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye, and his arm was healed enough that he could fix himself a sandwich and load the dishwasher. He still has some difficulty when he pees......

 

View attachment 19302

Anyway...the lady phones....Says..put the spuds on while I'm working my love...

OK says I? Shall I peel em all...

No just half of em she says...

So why did she lose her rag when she got home? Women...

 

Oi, either I didn't get Urqhs joke or there isn't one...Perhaps she said "studs [and leather]", and instead comes home to potato's?..I'd be upset too -in that case.

 

Play her this Urqh. Music soothes the savage beast: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TNEg65rlnu4

 

Blimey...I have to explain it? Means I've lost it...

Shall I peal em all...no half of em...half the bag...not half the spud....It must be an Urqh thing..

 

The picture was not present when I posted... I see now. ..You may have started a new dilicacy. Half dressed potato.

 

I love you poppppy......

 

Well, this is awkward...Manlove expressed so openly for all to gawk at. Kinda hoped someone would have posted after, but it seems we are stuck here- twisting in the wind...OK. I love you too Urqh. ..This is what the world needs to hear... Love baby , not war. ..We can evolve.

 

This is getting creepy.

 

Who you calling a creep...you wear dresses and lippy on the CB...

 

The Historian wears dresses, not me. Besides, your grandmaw wears army boots so there.

 

My grandma is dead you bugger...Now how do you feel....Bit better than her I suppose...Yep getting creepy...

 

Wish I still had a Granny... Used to wake up every morning after [the tractor accident] while cleaning the lake, and think " Iff granny were here, we could finish earlier". ..Still can't look at a John Deer without thinking of her.

 

John Deer is green over here...is it green over there...Yep Grannies...they knew how to work...
Mine worked down the pit of course..
She tested the mines for gas.
Had a pit pony..Named Eeaww.
She used to send the pony down the pit...bit difficult at times until she taught it how to press the lift button.
If the pony came back up...no gas..
She was made redundant when the mine owners realised they could do the same with a parrot
Which gave my grand dad employment as he had a parrot.
He used to send the parrot down the pit...bit difficult at times until he taught it how to press the lift button.
He was made redundant that day in 36...the big mine disaster of old Liverpool Town..
He had a few drinks at the local inn by the pit...with Granny's donkey...at the packhorse pub...do you know it?
Let the parrot go to work on its own...It was a clever parrot, could use the lift and all..but he usually gave it its lantern himself
and put it into lift...he didn't on this fateful day...and the parrot took the red stick instead of the blue stick with the candle in it..
Well...lots of upset miners...a new lift...featheres flew...you know the sort of thing...
Grandad then joined the army to do what he did best...He trained parrots to fly towards the Japanese...Stick of dynamite in beaks...Only thing was...after war. He kept a few parrots..didn't hand them in...then when he was a dooman at a big Japanese Bank in London...well I'll leave the rest to you...it was in the papers though...Big bang hits city of London...

 

Luxury...I wish we could afford a parrot. We would take a sparrow, add some alligator legs, play ABBA 24 hrs and be happy with the results we did not achieve.

 

Parrots. I've never trusted them. Much too flamboyant and colorful, and pushy - always wanting a cracker. I'll take a pet ptarmigan or perhaps a crow. Or a BBQ'd ptarmigan to share with a crow.

Some stuff I plagiarized from the Dictionary of Bad Analogies:

GOP immigration policy is like a dirty hooker - they both will let you penetrate their southern borders for fun and profit.

My penis is like a stillborn baby. It stretches out your vagina, then you cry after it goes limp.

As pointless as the female orgasm.

Some people are like Slinky's. Not good for much of anything, but they can still bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs.

I'll tell ya where we'll go. Some place warm. A place where the beer flows like wine. Where beautiful women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capistrano.

My bank account is hemorrhaging like a hemophiliac in a mosh pit.

He was as disappointed as a midget with a yo yo...

[SIZE=11pt]Her legs were like peanut butter: creamy smooth and easy to spread[/SIZE]