The Monday Morning Mirth

Tag: neck

  • Two Old Men

    Two old men decide they are close to their last day on earth and decide to have a last night on the town. After a few drinks they end up at the local brothel. The madam takes one look at the two old geezers and whispers to her manager, "go up to the first two rooms and put an inflated doll in each bed. These two are so old and drunk, I’m not wasting two of my girls on them. They won’t know the difference."

    Her manager does as he is told and the two old men go up stairs and take care of their business. As they walked home the first one says, "You know, I think my girl was dead!"

    "Dead?" says his friend, "why would you think that?"

    "Well, she never moved or made a sound all the time I was loving her."

    His friend says, "I think mine was a witch."

    "A WITCH!!! Why the hell would you say that?"

    "Well, I was making love to her, kissing on her neck and I gave it a little bite, then she farted and flew out the window!!"

  • A Father’s Rules on Dating his Daughter

    Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure not picking anything up.

    Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them.

    Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

    Rule Four: I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

    Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."

    Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

    Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

    Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

    Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a pot-bellied, balding, middle-aged, dim-witted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

    Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy outside of Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car – there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

  • Two Blonde Genies

    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. He feels something soft under his feet, he looks down and the floor is covered in $100 bills. Then, there is a knock at the door. He answers the door and standing there are two people dressed in Ku Klux Klan outfits. They drag him outside to the nearest tree, throw a rope over a limb and hang him by the neck until he is dead. As the Klansmen are walking away, they remove their hoods, and it’s the two blonde genies. One blonde genie says to the other one, "Hey, I can understand the first wish having all these beautiful women in a big mansion to make love to. I can also understand him wanting to be a millionaire. But to be hung like a black man is beyond me!"

  • Three Guys in a Bar

    Three guys go into a bar: a guy from Dallas, a guy from San Francisco, and a guy from Boulder. They drank and got a little rowdy. Suddenly, completely without warning, the Texan grabbed a bottle of tequila, unscrewed the top, took a good swig, and threw the bottle into the air. He then jerked a Colt .45 pistol out of his pocket and shot the bottle, spraying tequila all over everything and everybody. The patrons at the bar shouted, "Hey, bud, why’d you waste that tequila?"
    The Texan said, "Heck, it’s just tequila. Us Texans go across the border all the time and get all the tequila we want."
    Not to be outdone, the Californian whipped out a corkscrew and uncorked a bottle of wine. He poured some into a glass, swirled it, sniffed, commented on the tart insolence of its bouquet, sipped, tossed the bottle in the air, nicked it with a round from a silly little chrome-plated pistol, and showered a couple of patrons at the bar with wine.
    The patrons, upset by the casual waste and general lack of concern for their safety, expressed their displeasure and astonishment, to which the Californian replied, "Well, I’m from Napa Valley, and we have more than enough wine where I come from."
    The Boulderite, a quiet observer up to this point, touched the crystal hanging from his neck, adjusted his Birkenstocks, flipped back his ponytail, put down his guitar, and borrowed a bottle opener from the bartender. He popped the top off a bottle of Fat Tire beer, hammered it back, threw the empty bottle into the air, pulled a 9mm Beretta, took careful aim, shot both the Californian and the Texan, and caught the falling bottle.
    The patrons screamed in utter disbelief, "Why’d you do that?" 
    The Boulderite replied, "I’m from Colorado. We’ve already got too many Texans and way too many Californians, but glass bottles, now those can be recycled!"

  • Two Bored Casino Operators

    Two bored casino dealers are waiting at a craps table. A very attractive blonde lady comes in and wants to bet twenty-thousand dollars on a single roll of the dice. She says, "I hope you don’t mind, but I feel much luckier when I’m completely nude." With that she strips naked from her neck down, and rolls the dice while yelling, "Momma needs new clothes!" Then she hollers…"YES! YES! I WON! I WON!" and begins jumping up and down and hugging each of the dealers. With that she picks up her money and clothes and quickly leaves. The dealers just stare at each other dumbfounded. Finally one of them asks, "What did she roll anyway?" The other answers, "I thought YOU were watching!"

  • The Headache

    Joe was moderately successful in his career, but as he got older he was increasingly hampered by terrible headaches. When his personal hygiene and love life started to suffer, he sought medical help.
    After being referred from one specialist to another, he finally came across a doctor who solved the problem. "The good news is I can cure your headaches. The bad news is that it will require castration. You have a very rare condition which causes your testicles to press up against the base of your spine. The pressure creates one hell of a headache. The only way to relieve the pressure is to remove the testicles."
    Joe was shocked and depressed. He wondered if he had anything to live for. He couldn’t concentrate long enough to answer, but decided he had no choice but to go under the knife.
    When he left the hospital, his mind was clear, but he felt like he was missing an important part of himself. As he walked down the street, he realized that he felt like a different person. He could make a new beginning and live a new life.
    He walked past a men’s clothing store and thought, "That’s what I need, a new suit." He entered the shop and told the salesman, "I’d like a new suit."
    The salesman eyed him briefly and said, "Let’s see… size 44 long."
    Joe laughed, "That’s right, how did you know?"
    "It’s my job."
    Joe tried on the suit. It fit perfectly. As Joe admired himself in the mirror, the salesman asked, "How about a new shirt?"
    Joe thought for a moment and then said, "Sure!"
    The salesman eyed Joe and said, "Let’s see,… 34 sleeve and… 16 and a half neck."
    Joe was surprised, "That’s right, how did you know?"
    "It’s my job."
    Joe tried on the shirt, and it fit perfectly. As Joe adjusted the collar in the mirror, the salesman asked, "How about new shoes?"
    Joe was on a roll and said, "Sure!"
    The salesman eyed Joe’s feet and said, "Let’s see…9 and a half wide."
    Joe was astonished, "That’s right, how did you know?"
    "It’s my job." 
    Joe tried on the shoes and they fit perfectly. Joe walked comfortably around the shop and the salesman asked, "How about a new hat?"
    Without hesitating, Joe said, "Sure!"
    The salesman eyed Joe’s head and said, "Let’s see. . . 7 5/8."
    Joe was incredulous, "That’s right, how did you know?"
    "It’s my job."
    The hat fit perfectly. Joe was feeling great, when the salesman asked, "How about some new underwear?"
    Joe thought for a second and said, "Sure!"
    The salesman stepped back, eyed Joe’s waist and said, "Let’s see… size 36."
    Joe laughed, "No, I’ve worn size 34 since I was 18 years old."
    The salesman shook his head and said, "You can’t wear a size 34. It would press your testicles up against the base of your spine and give you one hell of a headache!"

  • The Weight Loss Program

    A fellow was reading the paper one day lamenting the fact that his doctor has ordered him to lose 75 pounds. Next thing he sees is an advertisement for a guaranteed weight loss program. Guaranteed like heck, he thinks to himself. But lets see what they think they can do. He calls them on the phone and subscribes to the 3 day, 10 LB weight loss program. The next day there comes a knock at his door, and when he answers, there stands before him a voluptuous, athletic 19 year old babe dressed in nothing but a pair of Nikes and a sign hanging around her neck. She introduces herself as a representative of the weight loss company. The sign reads, If you can catch me, you can have me. Well, without a second thought he takes off after her (like who wouldn’t). A few miles later, huffing and puffing, he finally catches her and has his way with her. After they are through he kisses the girl one last time and thinks to himself with a nod, I like the way this company does business. For the next two days, the same girl shows up and the same thing happens each time. On the fourth day, he weighs himself and, sure enough, he has lost 10 pounds. Deciding that he likes his somewhat more slender physique, not to mention the method of treatment, he calls the company back and subscribes to their 5 day, 20 LB weight loss program. He thinks that losing 20 pounds in only 5 days seems like a lot, but he is intrigued by what their workout schedule might be like this time. As expected, the next day there comes a knock at his door. When he answers it there stands a 22 year old knockout dressed in nothing but a pair of Reeboks and a sign hanging around her neck. She is simply stunning, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. She introduces herself as a representative of the weight loss company. The sign reads, If you can catch me, you can have me. He’s out the door like a shot. This gal is in excellent shape and it takes a while to catch her. But when he does, it is worth every cramp and wheeze. She is wonderful, the best he has ever had. He is really looking forward to the next four days… For the next four days, the same girl shows up and the same thing happens each time, much to his delight. On the sixth day, he weighs himself and, unbelievably, he has lost another 20 pounds. I love this company, he thinks to himself, I never knew losing weight could be so easy and so much fun. Feeling much better about himself, he decides to go for broke and subscribe to the companies 7 day, 50 pound weight loss program. Are you sure, sir? asks the representative on the phone. This is our most rigorous program. Absolutely, says he, I love your program. haven’t felt this good in years! The next day there comes a knock at his door and he enthusiastically answers it. There stands before him a 200 pound perfect specimen of a man dressed in nothing but racing spikes and a sign around his neck. He introduces himself as a representative of the weight loss company. The sign reads, If I can catch you, I can have you.

  • 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>