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Good Jokes: Not For The Faint-Hearted (Adult content)


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Two brooms were hanging in the closet and after a while they got to know

> each other so well, they decided to get married. One broom was, of

> course, the bride broom, the other the groom broom.

> The bride broom looked very beautiful in her white dress. The groom

> broom

> was handsome and suave in his tuxedo. The wedding was lovely. After the

> wedding, at the wedding dinner, the bride-broom leaned over and said to

> the groom-broom, 'I think I am going to have a little broom!'

> 'IMPOSSIBLE !' said the room broom. Are you ready for this? Brace

> yourself; this is going to hurt!!!!!! 'WE HAVEN'T EVEN SWEPT TOGETHER!'

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Five surgeons are discussing who were the best patients to operate on.

The first surgeon says, 'I like to see Accountants on my operating table because when you open them up, everything inside is numbered.'

The second responds, 'Yeah, but you should try Electricians! Everything inside them is colour-coded.'

The third surgeon says, 'No, I really think Librarians are the best; everything inside them is in alphabetical order.'

The fourth surgeon chimes in, 'You know I like Construction Workers. Those guys always understand when you have a few parts left over at the end, and when the job takes longer than you said it would.'

But the fifth surgeon shut them all up when he observed, 'You're all wrong. Politicians are the easiest to operate on. There's no guts, no heart, no balls, no brains, and no spine, and there are only two moving parts - the mouth and the !*!@# - and they are interchangeable'

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Dear Mr. Cameron,

Please find below our suggestion for fixing the UK 's economy.

Instead of giving billions of pounds to banks that will squander the money on lavish parties and unearned bonuses, use the following plan.

You can call it the Patriotic Retirement Plan:

There are about 10 million people over 50 in the work force.

Pay them £1 million each severance for early retirement with the following stipulations:

1) They MUST retire.

Ten million job openings - unemployment fixed

2) They MUST buy a new British car.

Ten million cars ordered - Car Industry fixed

3) They MUST either buy a house or pay off their mortgage -

Housing Crisis fixed

4) They MUST send their kids to school/college/university -

Crime rate fixed

5) They MUST buy £100 WORTH of alcohol/tobacco a week .....

And there's your money back in duty/tax etc

It can't get any easier than that!

P.S. If more money is needed, have all members of parliament pay back their falsely claimed expenses and second home allowances

If you think this would work, please forward to everyone you know.

Also......

Let's put the pensioners in jail and the criminals in a nursing home..

This way the pensioners would have access to showers, hobbies and walks.

They'd receive unlimited free prescriptions, dental and medical treatment, wheel chairs etc and they'd receive money instead of paying it out.

They would have constant video monitoring, so they could be helped instantly, if they fell, or needed assistance.

Bedding would be washed twice a week, and all clothing would be ironed and returned to them.

A guard would check on them every 20 minutes and bring their meals and snacks to their cell.

They would have family visits in a suite built for that purpose.

They would have access to a library, weight room, spiritual counselling, pool and education.

Simple clothing, shoes, slippers, PJ's and legal aid would be free, on request.

Private, secure rooms for all, with an exercise outdoor yard, with gardens.

Each senior could have a PC a TV radio and daily phone calls.

There would be a board of directors to hear complaints, and the guards would have a code of conduct that would be strictly adhered to.

The criminals would get cold food, be left all alone and unsupervised. Lights off at 8pm, and showers once a week. Live in a tiny room and pay £600.00 per week and have no hope of ever getting out.

Think about this (more points of contention):

COWS

Is it just me, or does anyone else find it amazing that during the mad cow epidemic our government could track a single cow, born in Appleby almost three years ago, right to the stall where she slept in the county of Cumbria?

And, they even tracked her calves to their stalls. But they are unable to locate 125,000 illegal immigrants wandering around our country. Maybe we should give each of them a cow.

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A woman walks into the DSS office,

trailed by 15 kids . . ...

'WOW,' the social worker exclaims, 'Are they ALL yours?'

'Yeah, they are all mine,' the flustered mother sighs,

having heard that question a thousand times before.

She says, 'Sit down Terry.' 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 Terry.'

'OK, and who's next?'

'Well, this one, he is Terry, also.'

The social worker raises an eyebrow but

continues. One by one, through the oldest

four, all boys, all named Terry.

Then she is introduced to the eldest girl,

named Terri.

'All right,' says the caseworker. 'I'm seeing

a pattern here. Are they ALL named Terri?'

Their Mother replied, 'Well, yes - it makes it

easier. When it is time to get them out of bed

and ready for school, I yell, 'Terry!' An' when

it's time for dinner, I just yell 'Terry!' an' they

all come running.' An' if I need to stop the kid

who's running into the street, I just yell 'Terry'

and all of them stop. It's the smartest idea

I ever had, naming them all Terry.'

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 surnames!'

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A very tired nurse walks into a bank,

totally exhausted after an 18-hour shift.

Preparing to write a cheque,

she pulls a rectal thermometer out of her purse

and tries to write with it.

When she realizes her mistake,

she looks at the flabbergasted teller,

and without missing a beat, she says:

'Well, that's great....that's just great....

Some !*!@#'s got my pen!'

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A little boy comes down to breakfast. Since they live on a farm, his mother asks if he had done his chores.

"Not yet," said the little boy.

His mother tells him no breakfast until he does his chores.

Well, he's a little teed off, so he goes to feed the chickens, and he kicks a chicken. He goes to feed the cows, and he kicks a cow. He goes to feed the pigs, and he kicks a pig. He goes back in for breakfast and his mother gives him a bowl of dry cereal.

" How come I don't get any eggs and bacon ? Why don't I have any milk in my cereal ? " he asks.

" Well, " his mother says, " I saw you kick a chicken, so you don't get any eggs for a week. I saw you kick the pig, so you don't get any bacon for a week either. I saw you kick the cow so for a week you aren't getting any milk. "

Just then, his father comes down for breakfast and kicks the !*!@# cat halfway across the kitchen.

The little boy looks up at his mother with a smile, and says,

" You gonna tell him or should I ? "

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Wiremu, a New Zealander, was on the dole in Australia but about to fly home

to watch the Rugby World Cup and was not feeling well,

So he decided to see a doctor.

"Hey doc, I dun't feel so good, ey" said Wiremu.

The doctor gave him a thorough examination and informed Wiremu

that he had long existing and advanced prostate problems and that the

only cure was testicular removal.

"No way doc" replied Wiremu "I'm gitting a sicond opinion ey!"

The second Aussie doctor gave Wiremu the same diagnosis and also

advised him that testicular removal was the only cure.

Not surprisingly, Wiremu refused the treatment.

Wiremu was devastated, but with the Rugby World Cup just around

the corner he found an expat Kiwi doctor and decided to get one last

opinion from someone he could trust.

The Kiwi doctor examined him and said: "Wiremu Cuzzy Bro, you huv Prostate

suckness ey."

"What's the cure thin doc ?" asked Wiremu hoping for a different answer.

"Wull, Wiremu", said the Kiwi doctor "Wi're gonna huv to cut off your balls."

"Phew, thunk god for thut!" said Wiremu,

"those Aussie bastards wanted to take my test tickets off me!"

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BEER TROUBLESHOOTING

SYMPTOM: Feet cold and wet.

FAULT: Glass being held at incorrect angle.

ACTION: Rotate glass so that open end points toward

ceiling.

SYMPTOM: Feet warm and wet.

FAULT: Improper bladder control.

ACTION: Stand next to nearest dog, complain about house

training.

SYMPTOM: Beer unusually pale and tasteless.

FAULT: Glass empty.

ACTION: Get someone to buy you another beer.

SYMPTOM: Opposite wall covered with fluorescent lights.

FAULT: You have fallen over backward.

ACTION: Have yourself leashed to bar.

SYMPTOM: Mouth contains cigarette butts.

FAULT: You have fallen forward.

ACTION: See above.

SYMPTOM: Beer tasteless, front of your shirt is wet.

FAULT: Mouth not open, or glass applied to wrong part of

face.

ACTION: Retire to restroom, practice in mirror.

SYMPTOM: Floor blurred.

FAULT: You are looking through bottom of empty glass.

ACTION: Get someone to buy you another beer.

SYMPTOM: Floor moving.

FAULT: You are being carried out.

ACTION: Find out if you are being taken to another bar.

SYMPTOM: Room seems unusually dark.

FAULT: Bar has closed.

ACTION: Confirm home address with bartender.

SYMPTOM: Taxi suddenly takes on colorful aspect and

textures.

FAULT: Beer consumption has exceeded personal

limitations.

ACTION: Cover mouth.

SYMPTOM: Everyone looks up to you and smiles.

FAULT: You are dancing on the table.

ACTION: Fall on somebody cushy-looking.

SYMPTOM: Beer is crystal-clear.

FAULT: It's water. Somebody is trying to sober you up.

ACTION: Punch him.

SYMPTOM: Hands hurt, nose hurts, mind unusually clear.

FAULT: You have been in a fight.

ACTION: Apologize to everyone you see, just in case it was

them.

SYMPTOM: Don't recognize anyone, don't recognize the room

you're in.

FAULT: You've wandered into the wrong party.

ACTION: See if they have free beer.

SYMPTOM: Your singing sounds distorted.

FAULT: The beer is too weak.

ACTION: Have more beer until your voice improves.

SYMPTOM: Don't remember the words to the song.

FAULT: Beer is just right.

ACTION: Play air guitar.

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A policeman was patrolling a local parking spot overlooking a golf course. He drove by a car and saw a couple inside with the dome light on. There was a young man in the driver's seat reading a computer magazine and a young lady in the back seat knitting. He stopped to investigate. He walked up to the driver's window and knocked. The young man looked up, cranked the window down, and said, "Yes Officer?"

"What are you doing?" the policeman asked. "What does it look like?" answered the young man. "I'm reading this magazine." Pointing towards the young lady in the back seat, the officer then asked, "And what is she doing?" The young man looked over his shoulder and replied, "What does it look like? She's knitting."

"And how old are you?" the officer then asked the young man. "I'm nineteen," he replied. "And how old is she?" asked the officer. The young man looked at his watch and said, "Well, in about twelve minutes she'll be sixteen."

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A blonde, wanting to earn some money, decided to hire herself out as a handyman-type and started canvassing a wealthy neighborhood. She went to the front door of the first house and asked the owner if he had any jobs for her to do.

"Well, you can paint my porch. How much will you charge?"

The blonde said, "How about 50 dollars?" The man agreed and told her that the paint and ladders that she might need were in the garage. The man's wife, inside the house, heard the conversation and said to her husband, "Does she realize that the porch goes all the way around the house?"

The man replied, "She should. She was standing on the porch."

A short time later, the blonde came to the door to collect her money.

"You're finished already?" he asked. "Yes," the blonde answered, "and I had paint left over, so I gave it two coats. "Impressed, the man reached in his pocket for the $50. "And by the way," the blonde added, "that's not a Porch, it's a Ferrari

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0 to 200 in 6 seconds Bob was in trouble. He forgot his wedding anniversary. His wife was

really pixxxd.

She told him "Tomorrow morning, I expect to find a gift in the

driveway that goes from 0 to 200 in 6 seconds AND IT BETTER BE THERE !!"

The next morning he got up early and left for work. When his wife woke

up, she looked out the window and sure enough there was a box

gift-wrapped in the middle of the driveway.

Confused, the wife put on her robe and ran out to the driveway, brought

the box back in the house.

She opened it and found a brand new bathroom scale.

Bob has been missing since Friday.

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THE DEAD COW LECTURE

First-year students at the Purdue Vet School were attending their first

anatomy class with a real dead cow. They all gathered around the surgery

table with the body covered with a white sheet.

The professor started the class by telling them, "In Veterinary medicine it

is necessary to have two important qualities as a doctor. The first is that

you not be disgusted by anything involving the animal's body." For an

example, the professor pulled back the sheet, stuck a finger in the butt of

the cow, withdrew it, and stuck a finger in his mouth. "Go ahead and do

the same thing," he told his students.

The students freaked out, hesitated for several minutes, but eventually

took turns sticking a finger in the butt of the dead cow and sucking on it.

When everyone finished, the Professor looked a them and said, "The

second most important quality is observation. I stuck in my middle

finger and sucked on my index finger. Now learn to pay attention. Life's

tough but it's even tougher if you're stupid.."

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IF MY BODY WAS A CAR..

If my body was a car, this is the time I would be thinking about trading it in for a newer model. I've got bumps and dents and scratches in my finish and my paint job is getting a little dull ...

But that's not the worst of it.

My headlights are out of focus and it's especially hard to see things up close

My traction is not as graceful as it once was.. I slip and slide and skid and bump into things even in the best of weather..

My whitewalls are stained with varicose veins.

It takes me hours to reach my maximum speed. My fuel rate burns inefficiently.

But here's the worst of it --

Almost every time I sneeze, cough or sputter, either my radiator leaks or my exhaust backfires!

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IF MY BODY WAS A CAR..

If my body was a car, this is the time I would be thinking about trading it in for a newer model. I've got bumps and dents and scratches in my finish and my paint job is getting a little dull ...

But that's not the worst of it.

My headlights are out of focus and it's especially hard to see things up close

My traction is not as graceful as it once was.. I slip and slide and skid and bump into things even in the best of weather..

My whitewalls are stained with varicose veins.

It takes me hours to reach my maximum speed. My fuel rate burns inefficiently.

But here's the worst of it --

Almost every time I sneeze, cough or sputter, either my radiator leaks or my exhaust backfires!

No. It could be worse. Your Big End could have gone too!

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Paddy is feelin' a bit horny, so he pops down the local red light district. Down a back alley he meets a pro.

How much for a good time pet?

£10 replies the pro.

I'll have some of that, replies Paddy.

As he was doing the business a policeman comes up the alley shining his torch.

Aye! Aye! What's going on here then? Asks the policeman.

I'm having sex with my wife! Replies Paddy.

I'm so sorry says the policeman I didn't realise it was your wife!

Neither did I until you shone your torch, says Paddy

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Three old Aussie rednecks were working up on an outback Queensland cell phone tower:

...

Coot Hooter, Hurricane Lamp* and Martin Place *.

As they start their descent, Coot slips, falls off the tower and is killed instantly..

As the ambulance takes the body away,

Martin says, 'Well, !*!@# me; someone should go and tell Coot's wife.

Hurricane says, 'OK, I'm pretty good at that sensitive stuff, I'll do it.'

Two hours later, he comes back carrying a case of Beer.

Martin says, 'Where did you get that beer, Hurricane?'

'Coot's wife gave it to me,' Hurricane replies.

'That's unbelievable, you told the Missus her husband was dead and she gave you a case of beer?' 'Well, not exactly', Hurricane says. 'When she answered the door, I said to her, "you must be Coot's widow." She said, 'You must be mistaken.. I'm not a widow.' Then I said, 'I'll bet you a case of beer you are..'

Queenslanders are good at that sensitive stuff.

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IF MY BODY WAS A CAR..

If my body was a car, this is the time I would be thinking about trading it in for a newer model. I've got bumps and dents and scratches in my finish and my paint job is getting a little dull ...

But that's not the worst of it.

My headlights are out of focus and it's especially hard to see things up close

My traction is not as graceful as it once was.. I slip and slide and skid and bump into things even in the best of weather..

My whitewalls are stained with varicose veins.

It takes me hours to reach my maximum speed. My fuel rate burns inefficiently.

But here's the worst of it --

Almost every time I sneeze, cough or sputter, either my radiator leaks or my exhaust backfires!

more to the point the whitewalls were most commonly used in the 1920's so you're definitely showing your age!!

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