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():love jokes (2491): A GIFT FOR HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW |
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| Posted by Timothy Withers on 10-Aug-2005 | A GIFT FOR HIS MOTHER-IN-LAWTwo guys were talking at work.
"I've got a problem," said the first one.
"What is it?"
"My wife has done it to me again. I'm supposed to buy my mother-in-law a
present for her birthday, from the two of us. And I am fresh out of ideas. I
mean it's HER mother, why can't she buy it?"
"What did you buy her last year?" the other one asked.
"Last year I bought her a VERY EXPENSIVE cemetery plot."
"Hmmmm, hard to top that one," said the other.
The two guys couldn't come up with anything. So the son-in-law didn't buy his
mother-in-law anything for her birthday.
When the big day arrived the next weekend, she was a bit upset. At the family
gathering for her birthday, she announced out loud to everyone, "Thank you all
for the wonderful gifts. Too bad my daughter and son-in-law weren't so
thoughtful!"
Thinking quickly, the son-in-law responded, "Well, you haven't
used the gift I gave you last year!"
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| Posted by Gracey Lou Freebush on 10-Aug-2005 | TAKE A HIKEDon't you hate it when you're just getting into your "productive zone" and a
family member interrupts with some fool project that threatens to derail your
whole day?
Case in point: This weekend I'm settling into my chair, a pristine bag of taco
chips nestled under my arm like a newborn baby. In my lap the TV listings reveal
an entire day of sporting events (including Ukrainian Woman's Body Building,
which I never miss); while to my right are a beer, glistening with dew and
shimmering with promise. Then my wife bursts into the room and begins to wax
irrational.
"I want to go on a family hike," she proclaims.
I nod encouragingly. "Then you should go. I'm sure there are plenty of
families who would love to accompany you."
"I mean us."
"Why a hike?" I demand. "Don't they have a web site for that?"
My children are equally astounded, but, like any responsible parent, I've
decided to present them with a unified front. "Your mother is crazy," I explain.
"We'd better do what she says."
"But I have plans for the weekend!" my oldest daughter howls. "Why do I have
to go?"
"Well, you ARE technically part of the family," I observe. "Pretend you're
walking at the mall."
"You are ruining my whole life," she snaps. (I don't tell her what having two
teenagers has done to mine.)
My other daughter tries a different approach.
"Can Brittany come along?"
"No."
"How about Whitney?"
"No."
"Danielle?"
"No."
"Greta?"
"Is Greta the one I like?"
"Yes!"
"Then no."
The family packs as if we're never coming back. Everyone is carrying enough
water to wash the car. Our backpacks bulge with extra clothing suitable for both
a day on a dog sled and an afternoon of beach volleyball.
After carefully applying makeup, my 17-year-old daughter troops out in a
skin-tight blouse that looks like it came right off the rack at "Babes R Us."
Maybe she's hoping we'll encounter a cleavage contest. "What do you think; we're
going to run into boys on this trip?" I demand. Her response is an insolent toss
of the hair that makes me wish I had some sheep-shearing tools in the garage.
"Put on something less...mammalian," I tell her.
"Why?" she jeers. "Do you think we're going to run into boys on this trip?"
My son wants to know why he can't take his hamster. "Because all pets have to
be kept on a leash," I explain.
"I WILL keep him on a leash!" he promises eagerly.
An hour later we're at the base of a hill. "This is crazy," I tell my wife
supportively. "Why couldn't we pick a downhill path?"
"It will be downhill on the way back," she says, as if this makes any sense.
I cast a look at my kids. My eleven-year-old is carrying a walking stick and
wearing ski goggles -- he looks like a sherpa. My youngest daughter is plugged
into CD headphones; my oldest is talking on the cell phone. "We're coming up on
a big, big rock," she reports. "No, wait, that's my dad's butt."
For some reason this strikes my wife as funny and she begins what will turn
out to be two straight hours of giggling.
I step into a mucky bog and my shoe is sucked right off. "Hey! The trail is
eating my feet!" I protest. Only my son stops to help. He has changed into a
hockey helmet. I frown. "Where'd you get that?" I ask.
"In your backpack, under the ant farm."
"You brought your ant farm? Why?"
"Because I couldn't bring my hamster," he explains logically.
After we've hiked across a couple of time zones, my knees begin muttering to
themselves about the ordeal. "We need to take a break, I'm bleeding internally!"
I call out. I'm ignored.
I'd still be up there if it weren't for a sudden storm (shows what happens
when you send your prayers marked "urgent"). My son pulls umbrellas from my
backpack and we run down the hill.
"That was an once-in-a-lifetime, never-again experience," I announce as I
start the car.
My wife, gazing out the window, pretends she doesn't understand the
significance of my phrasing.
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| Posted by Dean A. Evans on 10-Aug-2005 | ONLY CRAYONComing out of the shower i grab a towel and begin to dry my face. something
smells funny so i pull the towel off to investigate. staring me in the face is a
long, thick brown streak. my heart skips a beat as i realize i've just dried my
face in somebody's fecal matter. further examination reveals brown spots all
over the towel.
completely grossed out i jump back into the shower and scrub three layers of
skin off my face.
after i've finished i go downstairs, towel in hand, to ask my wife how this
could happen. how could she allow the girls the freedom to wipe their asses in
the towels?
"oh," she said, "that??™s not poop. there was a brown crayon in the dryer and it
melted all over the towels."
"what?" i stammer as relief floods over me. but then relief turns to
irritation. "why didn't you rewash them? did you want to give me a heart attack?
i just scrubbed five pounds of flesh off my face thinking it was s***!"
"no, i just didn't want to waste a wash cycle washing clean stuff."
"but, honey," i say slowly so she could understand, "it ain't clean!"
"oh, you big baby, it's only crayon."
it's only crayon... i tell you, i wasn't even drinking but i nearly got s***
faced!
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| Posted by brady on 10-Aug-2005 | CHILDRENWhenever your kids are out of control, you can take comfort from the thought
that even God's omnipotence did not extend to God's kids. After creating Heaven
and earth, God created Adam and Eve. And the first thing He said to them was:
"Don't."
"Don't what?" Adam replied.
"Don't eat the forbidden fruit," God said.
"Forbidden fruit? We got forbidden fruit? Hey, Eve...we got Forbidden Fruit!"
"No way!"
"Yes WAY!"
"Don't eat that fruit!" said God.
"Why?"
"Because I'm your Creator and I said so!" said God, wondering why he hadn't
stopped after making the elephants.
A few minutes later God saw the kids having an apple break and was angry.
"Didn't I tell you not to eat that fruit?" God asked.
"Uh huh," Adam replied.
"Then why did you?"
"I dunno," Eve answered.
"She started it!" Adam said.
"Did Not!"
"DID so!"
"DID NOT!!"
Having had it with the two of them, God's punishment was that Adam and Eve
should have children of their own.
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():love jokes (2491): POLITICAL CORRECTNESS FOR TEENAGERS |
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| Posted by Sam Malone on 10-Aug-2005 | POLITICAL CORRECTNESS FOR TEENAGERSNo one fails a class anymore; he's merely "passing impaired."
You don't have detention; you're just one of the??? exit delayed."
Your bedroom isn't cluttered; it's just "passage restrictive."
These days, a student isn't lazy. He's "energetically declined."
Your locker isn't overflowing with junk; it's just "closure prohibitive."
Kids don't get grounded anymore. They merely hit "social speed bumps."
Your homework isn't missing; it??™s just having an "out-of-notebook experience."
You're not sleeping in class; you're "rationing consciousness."
You're not late; you just have a "rescheduled arrival time."
You're not having a bad hair day; you're suffering from "rebellious follicle
syndrome."
You don't have smelly gym socks; you have "odor-retentive athletic footwear."
No one's tall anymore. He's "vertically enhanced."
You're not shy. You're "conversationally selective."
You don't talk a lot... You're just "abundantly verbal."
You weren't passing notes in class. You were "participating in the discreet
exchange of penned meditations."
You're not being sent to the principal??™s office. You're "going on a mandatory
field trip to the administrative building."
It's not called gossip anymore. It's "the speedy transmission of near-factual
information."
The food at the school cafeteria isn't awful. It's "digestively challenging."
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():love jokes (2491): YOU KNOW NO ONE LOVES YOU IF... |
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| Posted by phlegm on 10-Aug-2005 | YOU KNOW NO ONE LOVES YOU IF...- The pet cat got better food than you did.
- Your parents told you about strange men giving away sweets and to go and
find as many of them as possible.
- You play "hide & seek" with your Mother and she hides in another town.
- Your parents take you to an orphanage and tell you to mingle.
- Your parents told you about the magic money box in the cupboard where you
can hide your pocket money, and - you've since found out it was the coin-op
electric meter.
- You had to share your sandbox with the cat.
- You always got your weekly allowance in Traveler's Checks.
- Your folks threw a "going-into-the-Army" party when you were only three
years old.
- You run away, and the family can't give the Police an accurate description.
- You kept getting left beside the monkey enclosure at the zoo.
- You were always stood-up at the Father-Son banquet held at the local
Church.
- Kidnappers send back a piece of your ear and your parents demand more
proof before they pay any ransom.
- When you were born, your Father gave out old cigar butts.
- Your parents encourage you to fish in shark infested waters.
- As a baby, your Father threw you in the air and walked away.
- You find out your Mother is nursing another baby on the side.
- Your tub toys included a toaster shaped like a rubber duck.
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