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INGO: Joke of the day page
- Thread starter FordMan08
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Teacher with no sense of humor
Our teacher asked us what our favorite animal was, and I said, "Fried
chicken." She said I wasn't funny, but she couldn't have been right
because everyone else in the class laughed.
My parents told me to always be truthful and honest, and I am. Fried
chicken is my favorite animal. I told my dad what happened, and
he said my teacher was probably a member of PETA. He said they love
animals very much. I do, too. Especially chicken, pork and beef.
Anyway, my teacher sent me to the principal's office. I told him what
happened, and he laughed too. Then he told me not to do it again.
The next day in class my teacher asked me what my favorite live animal
was. I told her it was chicken. She asked me why, just like she'd
asked the other children. So I told her it was because you could make
them into fried chicken. She sent me back to the principal's office
again. He laughed, and told me not to do it any more.
I don't understand. My parents taught me to be honest, but my teacher
doesn't like it when I am. Today, my teacher asked us to tell her what
famous person we admire most.
I told her, "Colonel Sanders".
Guess where I am now...
Our teacher asked us what our favorite animal was, and I said, "Fried
chicken." She said I wasn't funny, but she couldn't have been right
because everyone else in the class laughed.
My parents told me to always be truthful and honest, and I am. Fried
chicken is my favorite animal. I told my dad what happened, and
he said my teacher was probably a member of PETA. He said they love
animals very much. I do, too. Especially chicken, pork and beef.
Anyway, my teacher sent me to the principal's office. I told him what
happened, and he laughed too. Then he told me not to do it again.
The next day in class my teacher asked me what my favorite live animal
was. I told her it was chicken. She asked me why, just like she'd
asked the other children. So I told her it was because you could make
them into fried chicken. She sent me back to the principal's office
again. He laughed, and told me not to do it any more.
I don't understand. My parents taught me to be honest, but my teacher
doesn't like it when I am. Today, my teacher asked us to tell her what
famous person we admire most.
I told her, "Colonel Sanders".
Guess where I am now...
Dr.Midnight
Master
Three pregnant female friends, a brunette, a red head, and a blonde, were having lunch one day and they started discussing what they thought the gender of their child would be.
The brunette says, "I'm going to have a boy because when my child was conceived, I was on top. That means the sperm had to be aggressive and work hard to impregnate me. Traits that a man has."
The red head says, "Well I'm going to have a girl then because when my child was conceived, I was on my back. The sperm didn't have to work as hard, and it didn't have to be as aggressive. That's what females are like."
They both look over at their blonde friend and she's crying he eyes out. They ask her what's wrong. The blonde says, "I'm going to have puppies."
The brunette says, "I'm going to have a boy because when my child was conceived, I was on top. That means the sperm had to be aggressive and work hard to impregnate me. Traits that a man has."
The red head says, "Well I'm going to have a girl then because when my child was conceived, I was on my back. The sperm didn't have to work as hard, and it didn't have to be as aggressive. That's what females are like."
They both look over at their blonde friend and she's crying he eyes out. They ask her what's wrong. The blonde says, "I'm going to have puppies."
Dr.Midnight
Master
Jeff Gordon and Tony Stewart went fishing one day. They had fished for a couple of hours, but they hadn't caught a thing.
Stewart looks at Gordon and says, "I know what to do." Tony strips down totally naked and jumps in the water. After a minute or two, he jumps out and has a huge catfish hanging off his private parts. He takes a hammer, hits it in the head, and he throws it in his bucket.
Tony then jumps back in the water, and what do you know, he hops back out in a couple of minutes with another huge catfish hanging off his privates. He takes his hammer again and hits the fish in the head and proceeds to throw it in his bucket.
Stewart jumps back in the water, then turns to Gordon and says, "Hey Jeff. Do you want to try this?"
Gordon says, "Sure. Just don't hit me in the head with a hammer."
Stewart looks at Gordon and says, "I know what to do." Tony strips down totally naked and jumps in the water. After a minute or two, he jumps out and has a huge catfish hanging off his private parts. He takes a hammer, hits it in the head, and he throws it in his bucket.
Tony then jumps back in the water, and what do you know, he hops back out in a couple of minutes with another huge catfish hanging off his privates. He takes his hammer again and hits the fish in the head and proceeds to throw it in his bucket.
Stewart jumps back in the water, then turns to Gordon and says, "Hey Jeff. Do you want to try this?"
Gordon says, "Sure. Just don't hit me in the head with a hammer."
Instant=.40cal=Karma
Plinker
This week at work, I caught wind of a new gun in the making. "The Congressman" is supposedly a very basic firearm set to be available in most popular calibers, but sports two key features:
- You'll never get it to ****ing work...
- You can't fire it...
- You'll never get it to ****ing work...
- You can't fire it...
Don't use Cell Phones in Public Bathrooms!
------------------------------------------------
All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a
malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a
sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But
more importantly for this story, it had been over
forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd
tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with
a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it
with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a
bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home
from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles
and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big
Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at
the mall to pick up an order for my wife. I completed
this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my
way backto the car, I noticed a large sale sign
proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic,
for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp
and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed
about to go. I hurried to the mall bathrooms. I
surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 0
through 4 (I write a lot of software) for your
convenience:
0.Occupied.
1.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as
it's next to the occupied one.
2.Poo on seat.
3.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid
splattered on seat.
4.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable
sticky object near base of
toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall ..1. I trudged back,
entered, dropped trou and sat down. I'm normally a
fairly Shameful Sh1tter. I wasn't happy about being
next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a
sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next
door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a
voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell
phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder
than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my
sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on
and on. Mr. ****ter was blathering to Mrs. ****ter
about the ****ty day he had. I sat there, cramping and
miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud
conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier,
thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too
polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know
in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping
soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame
Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet
paper holder with one hand, braced my other hand
against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my
might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal
magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone
ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood
being torn off a wall. The sound gradually
transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone,
not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to
hit the resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook
gently.
Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze,
three things became apparent:
(1) The next-door conversation had ceased;
(2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there
was more to come; and
(3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch
stench.
It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The
foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and
began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart
had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with
suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby,
that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that
(gag)??"
Now there was no stopping me. I pushed for all I was
worth. I could swear that in the resulting cacophony
of rips, squirts, splashes, poots, and blasts, I was
actually lifted slightly off the pot. The amount of
stuff in me was incredible. It sprayed against the
bowl with tremendous force. Later, in surveying the
damage, I'd see that liquid poop had actually managed
to ricochet out of the bowl and run down the side on
to the floor. But for now, all I could do was hang on
for the ride.
Next door I could hear him fumbling with the paper
dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task.
Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard
over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw
up... in my mouth... not... make it... tell the
kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more
sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.
Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one's phone
and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my
high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I
heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by
string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had
dropped his phone into the toilet.
There was a lull in my production, and the restroom
became deathly quiet. I could envision him standing
there, wondering what to do. A final anal announcement
came trumpeting from my behind, small chunks plopping
noisily into the water. That must have been the last
straw. I heard a flush, a fumbling with the lock, and
then the stall door was thrown open. I heard him
running out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind
him.
After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and
surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd
be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing
was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle
that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor
flooded with filth.
As I left, I glanced into the next-door stall. Nothing
remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had
he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty
unwashed hands? The world will never know.
I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and
Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me.
But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my
supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my
Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll
be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in
public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell
phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you
should never talk on your phone in the bathroom.
------------------------------------------------
All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a
malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a
sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But
more importantly for this story, it had been over
forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd
tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with
a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it
with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a
bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home
from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles
and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big
Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at
the mall to pick up an order for my wife. I completed
this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my
way backto the car, I noticed a large sale sign
proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic,
for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp
and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed
about to go. I hurried to the mall bathrooms. I
surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 0
through 4 (I write a lot of software) for your
convenience:
0.Occupied.
1.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as
it's next to the occupied one.
2.Poo on seat.
3.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid
splattered on seat.
4.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable
sticky object near base of
toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall ..1. I trudged back,
entered, dropped trou and sat down. I'm normally a
fairly Shameful Sh1tter. I wasn't happy about being
next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a
sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next
door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a
voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell
phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder
than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my
sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on
and on. Mr. ****ter was blathering to Mrs. ****ter
about the ****ty day he had. I sat there, cramping and
miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud
conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier,
thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too
polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know
in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping
soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame
Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet
paper holder with one hand, braced my other hand
against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my
might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal
magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone
ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood
being torn off a wall. The sound gradually
transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone,
not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to
hit the resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook
gently.
Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze,
three things became apparent:
(1) The next-door conversation had ceased;
(2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there
was more to come; and
(3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch
stench.
It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The
foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and
began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart
had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with
suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby,
that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that
(gag)??"
Now there was no stopping me. I pushed for all I was
worth. I could swear that in the resulting cacophony
of rips, squirts, splashes, poots, and blasts, I was
actually lifted slightly off the pot. The amount of
stuff in me was incredible. It sprayed against the
bowl with tremendous force. Later, in surveying the
damage, I'd see that liquid poop had actually managed
to ricochet out of the bowl and run down the side on
to the floor. But for now, all I could do was hang on
for the ride.
Next door I could hear him fumbling with the paper
dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task.
Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard
over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw
up... in my mouth... not... make it... tell the
kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more
sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.
Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one's phone
and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my
high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I
heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by
string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had
dropped his phone into the toilet.
There was a lull in my production, and the restroom
became deathly quiet. I could envision him standing
there, wondering what to do. A final anal announcement
came trumpeting from my behind, small chunks plopping
noisily into the water. That must have been the last
straw. I heard a flush, a fumbling with the lock, and
then the stall door was thrown open. I heard him
running out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind
him.
After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and
surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd
be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing
was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle
that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor
flooded with filth.
As I left, I glanced into the next-door stall. Nothing
remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had
he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty
unwashed hands? The world will never know.
I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and
Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me.
But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my
supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my
Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll
be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in
public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell
phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you
should never talk on your phone in the bathroom.
Everyone knows the story of William Tell, you know the one where he shoots the arrow off his son's head. But did you know that the two of them were also avid bowlers?
A friend of mine was doing some research on the Tell family while he was attending Harvard University a number of years ago. He was astounded to find out that the entire Tell family were champion bowlers. With further reading and research, my friend formed a theory that Tell's skill with his crossbow translated into almost inhuman fine motor skills, allowing him to bowl strike after strike. His skill was so great that one of the great monarchs of the day offered him a fiefdom if the Tells would represent him in the national tournament.
My friend was almost finished with his research when a tragic accident caused a fire in the Harvard library. He was able to save his notes, but all of the original documents were consumed in the fire. That was a shame since he never discovered which monarch it was that the Tells played for.
So, alas, we do not know for Whom the Tells bowled.
A friend of mine was doing some research on the Tell family while he was attending Harvard University a number of years ago. He was astounded to find out that the entire Tell family were champion bowlers. With further reading and research, my friend formed a theory that Tell's skill with his crossbow translated into almost inhuman fine motor skills, allowing him to bowl strike after strike. His skill was so great that one of the great monarchs of the day offered him a fiefdom if the Tells would represent him in the national tournament.
My friend was almost finished with his research when a tragic accident caused a fire in the Harvard library. He was able to save his notes, but all of the original documents were consumed in the fire. That was a shame since he never discovered which monarch it was that the Tells played for.
So, alas, we do not know for Whom the Tells bowled.
[FONT="]Pinocchio, Snow White, and Superman are out for a stroll in town one Day.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
As they walk, they come across a sign:[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]"Beauty contest for the most beautiful woman in the world."[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="] [/FONT]
[FONT="]"I am entering" said Snow White.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
After half an hour she comes out and they ask her, "Well, how'd ya do?[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
" First Place ," said Snow White.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="] [/FONT]
[FONT="]They continue walking and they see a sign: "Contest for the strongest man in the world."[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
"I'm entering," says Superman.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
After half an hour he returns and they ask him, "How did you make out?"[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="] [/FONT]
[FONT="]" First Place ," answers Superman. "Did you ever doubt?"[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="] [/FONT]
[FONT="]They continue walking when they see a sign: "Contest! Who is the greatest liar in the world?"[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
Pinocchio enters.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
After half an hour he returns with tears in his eyes. "What happened?" they asked.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="] [/FONT]
[FONT="]“Who the hell is Obama?"[/FONT]
[FONT="]
As they walk, they come across a sign:[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]"Beauty contest for the most beautiful woman in the world."[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="] [/FONT]
[FONT="]"I am entering" said Snow White.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
After half an hour she comes out and they ask her, "Well, how'd ya do?[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
" First Place ," said Snow White.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="] [/FONT]
[FONT="]They continue walking and they see a sign: "Contest for the strongest man in the world."[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
"I'm entering," says Superman.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
After half an hour he returns and they ask him, "How did you make out?"[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="] [/FONT]
[FONT="]" First Place ," answers Superman. "Did you ever doubt?"[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="] [/FONT]
[FONT="]They continue walking when they see a sign: "Contest! Who is the greatest liar in the world?"[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
Pinocchio enters.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="]
After half an hour he returns with tears in his eyes. "What happened?" they asked.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
[FONT="] [/FONT]
[FONT="]“Who the hell is Obama?"[/FONT]
Two identical white toyota cars are sitting at a stop light. One has an American in it and the other is packed with 12 Jihadis.
Before the light can turn green, an oncoming semi blows through the red light, crosses into their lane, and smash's through and over the car with Jihadis.
The guy in the other car just stares, thinking... " that could have been me...
I'm gonna go get a CDL!!"
Before the light can turn green, an oncoming semi blows through the red light, crosses into their lane, and smash's through and over the car with Jihadis.
The guy in the other car just stares, thinking... " that could have been me...
I'm gonna go get a CDL!!"
[FONT="]WOMEN'S ASS SIZE STUDY
There is a new study about women and how they feel about their asses; the results were pretty interesting:
30% of women think their ass is too fat.
10% of women think their ass is too skinny.
The remaining 60% say they don't care, they love him, he's a good man and they wouldn't trade him for the world.
(I know you're laughing)[/FONT]
There is a new study about women and how they feel about their asses; the results were pretty interesting:
30% of women think their ass is too fat.
10% of women think their ass is too skinny.
The remaining 60% say they don't care, they love him, he's a good man and they wouldn't trade him for the world.
(I know you're laughing)[/FONT]
Upon hearing that her elderly grandfather had just passed away, Katie went straight to her grandparent's house to visit her 95 year-old grandmother and comfort her. When she asked how her grandfather had died, her grandmother replied, "He had a heart attack while we were making love on Sunday morning." Horrified, Katie told her grandmother that 2 people nearly 100 years old having sex would surely be asking for trouble.
"Oh no, my dear," replied granny. "Many years ago, realizing our advanced age, we figured out the best time to do it was when the church bells would start to ring. It was just the right rhythm. Nice and slow and even. Nothing too strenuous, simply in on the Ding and out on the Dong."
She paused to wipe away a tear, and continued, "He'd still be alive if the ice cream truck hadn't come along."
"Oh no, my dear," replied granny. "Many years ago, realizing our advanced age, we figured out the best time to do it was when the church bells would start to ring. It was just the right rhythm. Nice and slow and even. Nothing too strenuous, simply in on the Ding and out on the Dong."
She paused to wipe away a tear, and continued, "He'd still be alive if the ice cream truck hadn't come along."
semperfi211
Master
OMG!....I was in in the public restroom - I was barely sitting down when I heard a voice in the other stall: "Hi, how are you?" Me: embarrassed, "Doin' fine!" Stall: "So what are you up to?" Me: "Uhhh, I'm like you, just sitting here." Stall: "Can I come over?" Me: (attitude) "No, I'm a little busy right now!!" Stall: "Listen, I'll have to call you back. There's an idiot in the other stall who keeps answering all my questions
OK, I was wondering where to put this, but you folks provided me the proper setting for my youngins latest joke: Ready? Here it comes, and if you find it rude, DON'T blame me! ROFL
Chloroforme: Putting the "sensual" in "nonconsenual" sex! Since 1873!
Damn, that was even before her grandfather was born! ROFL! Warped? Yup, the whole fam damily is, right to the core! LOL
7th Stepper
Chloroforme: Putting the "sensual" in "nonconsenual" sex! Since 1873!
Damn, that was even before her grandfather was born! ROFL! Warped? Yup, the whole fam damily is, right to the core! LOL
7th Stepper
Husband Banned From WalMart (joke) Rated G
This is why women should not take men shopping against their will.
After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to
Wal-Mart.
Unfortunately, like most men, I found Shopping boring and preferred to get
in and get out.
Equally unfortunately, my wife is like most women - - she loved to Browse.
Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter from the local
Wal-Mart.
Dear Mrs. Samsel,
Over the past six months, your husband has been causing quite a commotion in
our store.
We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to ban both of you
from the store.
Our complaints against Mr. Samsel are listed below and are documented by our
video Surveillance cameras.
1. June 15:
Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's carts when they
weren't looking.
2 . July 2:
Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute Intervals.
3. July 7:
Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.
4. July 19:
Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, "Code 3 in
Housewares. Get on it right away."
5. August 4:
Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&M's on Layaway.
6. August 14:
Moved a "CAUTION - WET FLOOR" sign to a carpeted area.
7. August 15:
Set up a tent in the camping department and told other shoppers he'd Invite
them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding
Department.
8. August 23:
When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, "Why
can't you people just leave me alone?"
9. September 4:
Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he
picked his nose.
10. September 10:
While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk Where the
antidepressants were.
11. October 3:
Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the " Mission
Impossible" theme.
12. October 6:
In the auto department, he practiced his "Madonna look" by using Different
sizes of funnels.
13. October 18:
Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled "PICK ME!
PICK ME!"
14. October 21:
When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal Position
and screamed "OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!"
And last, But not least ..
15. October 23:
Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, then Yelled very
loudly, "Hey! There's no toilet paper in Here!"
Regards,
Tom Richards
Walmart Manager
This is why women should not take men shopping against their will.
After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to
Wal-Mart.
Unfortunately, like most men, I found Shopping boring and preferred to get
in and get out.
Equally unfortunately, my wife is like most women - - she loved to Browse.
Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter from the local
Wal-Mart.
Dear Mrs. Samsel,
Over the past six months, your husband has been causing quite a commotion in
our store.
We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to ban both of you
from the store.
Our complaints against Mr. Samsel are listed below and are documented by our
video Surveillance cameras.
1. June 15:
Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's carts when they
weren't looking.
2 . July 2:
Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute Intervals.
3. July 7:
Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.
4. July 19:
Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, "Code 3 in
Housewares. Get on it right away."
5. August 4:
Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&M's on Layaway.
6. August 14:
Moved a "CAUTION - WET FLOOR" sign to a carpeted area.
7. August 15:
Set up a tent in the camping department and told other shoppers he'd Invite
them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding
Department.
8. August 23:
When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, "Why
can't you people just leave me alone?"
9. September 4:
Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he
picked his nose.
10. September 10:
While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk Where the
antidepressants were.
11. October 3:
Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the " Mission
Impossible" theme.
12. October 6:
In the auto department, he practiced his "Madonna look" by using Different
sizes of funnels.
13. October 18:
Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled "PICK ME!
PICK ME!"
14. October 21:
When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal Position
and screamed "OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!"
And last, But not least ..
15. October 23:
Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, then Yelled very
loudly, "Hey! There's no toilet paper in Here!"
Regards,
Tom Richards
Walmart Manager
GunSlinger
Master
An Irishman walks OUT of a bar...
A TRIP TO SAM'S CLUB
Yesterday I was at my local SAM'S CLUB buying a large bag of Purina
dog chow for my loyal pet, Biscuit, the Wonder Dog, and was in the
checkout line when the woman behind me asked if I had a dog.
What did she think I had, an elephant? So since I'm retired and have
little to do, on impulse I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, I
was starting the Purina Diet again. I added that I probably shouldn't,
because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50
pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes
coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.
I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that
it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat
one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so
it works well and I was going to try it again.. (I have to
mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my
story.)
Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the
dog food poisoned me. I told her no, I stepped off a curb to sniff an
Irish Setter's ass and a car hit us both.
I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was
laughing so hard.
Sam's Club won't let me shop there anymore.
Yesterday I was at my local SAM'S CLUB buying a large bag of Purina
dog chow for my loyal pet, Biscuit, the Wonder Dog, and was in the
checkout line when the woman behind me asked if I had a dog.
What did she think I had, an elephant? So since I'm retired and have
little to do, on impulse I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, I
was starting the Purina Diet again. I added that I probably shouldn't,
because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50
pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes
coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.
I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that
it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat
one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so
it works well and I was going to try it again.. (I have to
mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my
story.)
Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the
dog food poisoned me. I told her no, I stepped off a curb to sniff an
Irish Setter's ass and a car hit us both.
I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was
laughing so hard.
Sam's Club won't let me shop there anymore.
man died and went to heaven. He saw a huge wall of clocks behind St. Peter. "Why all the clocks"?' St. Peter answered, 'Those are Lie-Clocks. Everyone has a Lie-Clock. Every time you lie the hands on your clock will move.' 'Oh,' said the man, 'whose clock is that?' ...............'That's Mother Teresa's. The hands have never moved, she never told a lie.' 'Where's President Obama's clock?' asked the man. Obama's clock is in Jesus' office. He's using it as a ceiling fan...
