JOKES FOR SEPTEMBER '08

ONE FOR THE BIKER KIDS

Q: What kind of bee makes milk?
A: A boobie!

I GAVE MY FRIEND ONE

After a lifetime of chasing skanks, Filthy Fred resolved to change his ways and settle down with one woman. He spent years searching the countryside looking for a dumb-as-dirt, drop-dead gorgeous blonde virgin to marry. He finally found the perfect girl, but as he wooed her, he had to tell a hard to hide lie to win her heart. Fred showed the stunning simpleton his pecker, and told her he was the only man in the world who had one, and that he’d use it to maker the happiest woman in the world if she would only marry him.
The beauty agreed, and the two of them spent the next few years in a state of wedded and sexual bliss seldom seen.
One night, Filthy Fred came home to find his ditzy beauty furious, crying, and waiting for him.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked.
“You lied to me!” she sobbed. “You told me you were the only man in the world with a dick, But I saw your friend Bob out back pissing, and, well, he’s got one too!”
Thinking fast, Fred said, “Oh, is that all, baby? Ya see, at one time I had two dicks, and since Bob’s my closest friend, I gave him one.”
“Well,” the bimbo cried, “even if that’s true, why’d you give him the big one?”

NO ALZHIEMERS HERE

Three crusty old bikers were sittin’ around tellin’ lies when it got around to whose memory went back further.
The first says, “ I remember being dressed in some white scratchy stuff with people standing around while water was splashed on me. It was terrifying.”
The second says, “ That’s nothing. I can remember being in a warm, dark room, then being squeezed and smashed around, then coming out into this big, bright room and being spanked. It was awful.”
“I got you two beat by miles,” says the third graybeard. “I remember going on a bike run with my father and coming back with my mother.”

HITCHIN’ FOR A RIDE

Two fleas ran across each other on Daytona Beach, one was covered in suntan oil, soaking up rays, and the other was wrapped in a blanket, teeth chattering and running a fever.
“What happened to you?” asked the sunbather. “You look terrible.”
“I hitched a ride down here in the moustache of some damn biker, said the second flea. “That bastard rode his motorcycle through everything Mother Nature threw at us. I about froze my nuts off.”
“Listen, pal,” said the first flea, what you have to do is go to the airport, get up on a toilet seat and wait for a Air Florida stewardess to come in. Then, just climb aboard for a nice warm ride. You can’t go wrong that way.”
A month or so later, the two crossed paths on the beach again. The first flea was oiled and tan, but the second flea looked worse than before.
“Didn’t you listen to me…?” the first flea started, but the second flea cut him off.
“I did everything you told me,” the frozen flea said. “I made it to the stewardess’ lounge, waited for a real cute one to come in, and jumped on. I got comfortable and warm, and fell right to sleep it was so nice.”
“And then what?” asked the first flea.
“And then I woke up on the same damned biker’s moustache!”

GOIN’ HUNTIN’

A lost female tourist pulled into a speck of a town in Wyoming looking for directions. The town seemed deserted except for a weathered old local sitting in front of the general store.
Wanting to make conversation before asking for travel directions of a stranger, the woman said to the old-timer, “ Nice little town you have here. What do you folks do around here?”
The old guy replied, “We don’t do nuthin’ but hunt an’ fuck.”
Trying to keep the conversation friendly and not show her shock, the tourist asked, “Oh? What do you hunt?”
The old guy said with a smile, “Sumthin’ ta fuck.”

I’M GOIN’ IN

Loud Lefty was at the drugstore digging around the selection of rubbers on display. The pharmacist saw the mess he was making and decided to go see if he could help Lefty out.
“Can I help you find something, sir?” the pharmacist asked.
“I’m lookin’ for some rubbers with that insecticide in ‘em,” Lefty growled.
Stifling a laugh, the pharmacist replied, “Sir, I think you mean spermicide, not insecticide.”
“No, dammit! I mean insecticide,” barked Lefty. “My ol’ lady’s got a bug up her ass an’ I’m goin’ in after it!”

WHAT’S NEXT?

Q: What comes after two days of rain?
A: Monday.