The Monday Morning Mirth

Tag: God

  • The Fisherman & the Priest

    An Irish priest decides to take a walk to the pier near his church. He looks around and finally stops to watch a fisherman load his boat. The fisherman notices, and asks the priest if he would like to join him for a couple of hours. The priest agrees. The fisherman asks if the priest has ever fished before, to which the priest says "no". He baits the hook for the priest and says, "Give it a shot father" .

    After a few minutes, the priest hooks a big fish and struggles to get it into the boat. The fisherman catches a glimpse of it and says, "Whoa, look at the size of that fucker!".

    Priest: "Uh, please, the lord is watching would you please you mind your language?"

    Fisherman: (THINKING QUICKLY) "I’m sorry father, but that’s what this fish is called – a fucker!"

    Priest: "Oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t know."

    After the trip, the priest brings the fish to the church and spots the bishop.

    Priest: "Look at this big fucker"

    Bishop: "Please, mind your language, this is a house of God."

    Priest: "No, you don’t understand – that’s what this fish is called, and I caught it. I caught this fucker!"

    Bishop: "Hmmm. You know, I could clean this fucker and we could have it for dinner."

    So the Bishop takes the fish and cleans it, and brings it to the Mother Superior.

    Bishop: "Could you cook this fucker for dinner tonight?"

    Mother Superior: "My lord, what language!"

    Bishop: "No, sister, that’s what the fish is called – a fucker! Father caught it, I cleaned it, and we’d like you to cook it."

    Mother Superior: "Hmmm. Yes, I’ll cook that fucker tonight."

    Well, then the Pope stops by for dinner with the three of them, and they all think the fish is great. He asks where they got it.

    Priest: "I caught the fucker!"

    Bishop: "And I cleaned the fucker!"

    Mother Superior: "And I cooked the fucker!"

    There’s absolute silence, and the Pope stares at them for a minute with a steely gaze, but then lets out a huge fart, takes off his hat, puts his feet up on the table, lights up cigarette, pours himself a large whisky and says, "You know what? You cunts are alright."

  • Cyber Sex

    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>