One night, an 87-year-old woman came home from Bingo to find her husband in bed with another woman. Angry, she became violent and ended up pushing him off the balcony of their apartment, killing him instantly. When brought before the court on charges of murder, she was asked if she had anything to say to defend herself.
"Well, Your Honour," she replied coolly. "I figured that at 92, if he could fuck, he could fly!"
There were two brothers who were national yodelling champions. One day their car broke down out in the middle of nowhere and they had to put up at a farmhouse. As fate would have it there was a beautiful farmer’s daughter at the house.
The two brothers had a way of communicating over several miles by yodelling to each other. One particular yodel (ay-la-de-o-la-te-tu) signalled trouble, and meant for the other one to run.
Anyway, the farmer warned the two brothers not to mess with his daughter. The next morning the farmer was up before dawn, and caught his daughter in the bed with one of the brothers. He grabbed his gun and shouted that he would start counting, and if the guy wasn’t out of his sight by the count of 5 he would shoot him.
Well, the fellow high-tailed it out of there and was just jumping over the fence when the farmer hit 3. He yodelled the tune to warn his brother of impending doom, when the farmer suddenly shot him.
The other brother came running out of his room and said, "What happened?"
The farmer said, "I caught your brother sleeping with my daughter and, although I gave him a fair chance, before he was out of sight he yelled, "I laid the old lady, too," so I shot him.
A wealthy playboy met a beautiful young girl in an exclusive lounge. He took her to his lavish apartment where he soon discovered she was not a tramp, but was well groomed and apparently very intelligent. Hoping to get her into bed he began showing her his collection of expensive paintings, first editions by famous authors and offered her a drink.
He asked whether she preferred Sherry or Port and she said, "Oh, Sherry by all means. To me it’s the nectar of the gods. Just looking at it in a crystal-clear decanter fills me with a glorious sense of anticipation. When the stopper is removed and the gorgeous liquid is poured into my glass, I inhale the enchanting aroma and I’m lifted on the wings of ecstasy. It seems as though I’m about to drink a magic potion and my whole being begins to glow. The sound of a thousand violins being softly played fills my ears and I’m transported into another world.
"On the other hand, Port makes me fart."
A little boy goes to his dad and asks, "What is Politics?"
Dad says, "Well son, let me try to explain it this way: I’m the breadwinner of the family, so call me Capitalism. Your mother, she’s the administrator of the money, so we call her the Government. We’re here to take care of your needs, so we’ll call you the People. The nanny, we’ll consider her the Working Class. And your baby brother, we’ll call him the Future. Now think about that and see if it makes sense."
So the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what Dad has said. Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has severely soiled his diaper. So the little boy goes to his parent’s room and finds his mother sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny’s room. Finding the nanny door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed. The next morning, the little boy says to his father, "Dad, I think, I understand the concept of politics now."
The father says, "Good son, tell me in your own words, what you think politics is all about."
The little boy replies, "Well, while Capitalism is screwing the Working Class, the Government is sound asleep, the People are being ignored and the Future is in Deep Shit."
A young man is wandering, lost, in a forest when he comes upon a small house. Knocking on the door he is greeted by an ancient Chinese man with a long gray beard.
"I’m lost," said the man. "Can you put me up for the night?"
"Certainly", the Chinese man said, "but on one condition. If you so much as lay a finger on my daughter I will inflict upon you the three worst Chinese tortures known to man".
"OK,", said the man, and entered the house.
Over dinner, the daughter came down the stairs. She was young, beautiful and had a fantastic body. She was obviously attracted to the young man as she couldn’t keep her eyes off him during the meal.
Remembering the old man’s warning he ignored her and went up to bed alone. During the night he could bear it no longer and snuck into her room for a night of passion.
He was careful to keep everything quiet so the old man wouldn’t hear and, near dawn, he crept back to his room, exhausted but happy. He woke to feel a pressure on his chest. Opening his eyes he saw a large rock on his chest with a note on it that read:
"Chinese Torture 1….Large rock on chest.".
"Well, that’s pretty crappy", he thought. "If that’s the best the old man can do then I don’t have much to worry about."
He picked the boulder up, walked over to the window and threw the boulder out.
As he did so, he noticed another note on it that read: "Chinese Torture 2…. Rock tied to left testicle."
In a panic he glanced down and saw the rope that was already getting close to taut.
Figuring that a few broken bones was better than castration he, jumped out of the window after the boulder.
As he plummeted towards the ground he saw a large sign on the ground that read, "Chinese Torture 3….Right testicle tied to bed post."
Online computer users sometimes engage in what is affectionately known as "cybersex". Often the fantasies typed via keyboards and shared through the Internet get pretty raunchy. This one, however, somehow misses the boat…
Dave (surname withheld) – Wellhung
Online Cyber Slut – Sweetheart
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?
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 your 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 breasts. 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 breasts 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 our 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: <logged off>
So… there’s an egg and a chicken laying together in a bed the chicken is laying there with this big satisfied grin on its face, smoking a cigarette.
The egg is just laying there on its side, facing away from the chicken.
Finally the egg mumbles…. "Well I guess we finally answered THAT question."