Not necessarily the Sunday Funnies

A man by the name of Honest John, who never told a lie in his life, who'd been married to his wife for well over 30 years, and faithfully the whole time, hired a new secretary to work for him in his office. Well, after 6 months of employment, and 6 months of her trying to get John to go to bed with her, he finally broke down and went with her to her apartment and had wild sex, but when they were finished, she asked John what he was going to tell his wife when he got home, about what they had done. He replied, dear, I have never lied to my wife, nor to anyone else in my entire life, I don't plan on starting now, so I'll tell her the truth.

But, before he departed her to go home, he asked his secretary if she had any baby powder, in which she replied, yes. So she went and got it and gave it to John, in which he proceeded to sprinkle a little of the powder on his hands, and after doing so, wiped his hands on his trouser pant legs, then thanked his secretary for a wonderful evening and left for home.

Once John arrived at his house and went in, he could see that his wife was not in the best of moods when she began questioning him as to his whereabouts, and why he was coming home so late at night??? Well, John proceeded to explain that he'd had an affair with his secretary this evening and that he was sorry for coming home so late, and he wanted to appoligze...but before he could finish speaking his wife noticed the baby powder on his pant legs and asked John to hold out his hands so that she could take a look at them. When noticing the baby powder on his hands as well as his pants, she became even more upset and proceeded to yell at John, telling him is story was nothing but a damn lie and that he was out bowling with the boys again, in which she told him she was going to bed and that for tonight...he could sleep on the couch!!!

Glen
 
Blue Hog ridr said:
There was a fellow who was having an affair with one of the girls in his office. Her name was Shirley.
His wifes name was Lorraine. One Sunday afternoon, he was out walking by a river with his wife. His wife got a little close to the rivers edge, fell in and got washed away.
His first thought was, Great, I can see Shirley now, Lorraine is gone.
Click to expand...

You know, it only took me a little over two years, but I finally get the gist of this one.
Hilarious! :smile:
 
I was in a bar in Colorado a few years back, installing some Diamond bar tables, when a customer walked in and up to the bar, complaining about this and that. The owner of the bar asked him, looks like you've been working hard, I thought you retired. "

He told him that he had indeed retired, but was so damn busy doing nothing yesterday...that he only got half done"!!!:thumbup:

Glen
 
A couple of years ago i was in florida looking for a place to live. Looking through classifieds i stumbled across an ad that read "Talking dog, free to good home". I decided to invesigate. I went to the address and knocked on the door. When a man answered i said "I'm here about the talking dog." He led me to the bedroom where the dog looked up and said "Hey, how's it going?".
"Holy crap" i said "You're actually a talking dog!"
"Yup thats me" he replie
"How did you wind up this way?" i inquired.
"I was born in 1999. My father was a German Shepheard and my mother a Gryehound. I was adopted by a police officer who thought I'd make a great police dog. After my training was complete my first real job was finding survivors at ground zero afte 9/11. I worked for 17 straight days only stopping for food and water and saved 23 lives. After that i did a tour in Afghanistan sniffing out IUDs and other bomb senarios. When i got back to the states i decided to retire and move to florida and now here i am."
"That's incredible!" i exclaimed. "Why on earth are you giving away such an amazing animal?"
The man looked at me and simply said "Cuz he's a big liar!"
 
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There's no reason in the world that this thread should go away so soon. There's not much going on this weekend, anyway.
So, with the kind permission of my good friend, pt, I will tell another story.

Some time back a fellow I play one pocket with was seriously injured in a late night automobile accident. By seriously injured I mean he lost his penis.
At the hospital, where my friend was taken, doctors were confounded as to what should be done. One suggested a plastic prosthetic, another opined that they should leave it off completely. A third suggestion came from a bold young intern fresh out of med school. He informed the other two that earlier in the day a baby elephant was born at the local zoo, but sadly however, had died a short time later. The doctor said that it might be possible to remove the trunk from the baby elephant and graft it onto the area where my friend's penis once was. With few other options available the doctors agreed to the procedure and scheduled it for the following day.
That next day the surgery was performed successfully, and my buddy now had a baby elephant's trunk where his penis used to be. A scant two weeks later he was home, having fully recuperated from his injury, and having dinner with his wife.
She asked him, "How do feel, Dear?"
"Great." He said. "You want to see something really cool?"
"Sure, Honey." Said his wife.
He reached down and unzipped his pants then placed both his hands on the dinner table.
"Watch this." He said, with a smile on his face.
After a minute, or so, a small elephant trunk appeared over the edge of the table and began sniffing at his plate of food. It stopped at a dinner roll, curled itself around it, then quickly disappeared back under the table.
"That was amazing!" Exclaimed his wife. "Can you do it again?"
"Maybe later." Said my friend. "Right now I don't feel like having another dinner roll stuck up my ass."
:)
 
LuckyStroke said:
A couple of years ago i was in florida looking for a place to live. Looking through classifieds i stumbled across an ad that read "Talking dog, free to good home". I decided to invesigate. I went to the address and knocked on the door. When a man answered i said "I'm here about the talking dog." He led me to the bedroom where the dog looked up and said "Hey, how's it going?".
"Holy crap" i said "You're actually a talking dog!"
"Yup thats me" he replie
"How did you wind up this way?" i inquired.
"I was born in 1999. My father was a German Shepheard and my mother a Gryehound. I was adopted by a police officer who thought I'd make a great police dog. After my training was complete my first real job was finding survivors at ground zero afte 9/11. I worked for 17 straight days only stopping for food and water and saved 23 lives. After that i did a tour in Afghanistan sniffing out IUDs and other bomb senarios. When i got back to the states i decided to retire and move to florida and now here i am."
"That's incredible!" i exclaimed. "Why on earth are you giving away such an amazing animal?"
The man looked at me and simply said "Cuz he's a big liar!"
Click to expand...

That's got to be pretty awkward, having a dog that sniffs out IUD's. :eek:
 
Hey, TSA is strict these days. IEDs. Sorry, I think Siri changed that one. Please don't ask about recent text conversations.
 
Bigfoot Paul...that's what some called him before the 'Rack' days...
...the man wore 13 or 14 size shoes...could've made a living stamping out
forest fires.

Paul Brusilov was a Korean vet...when he got demobbed, he showed up
at the Detroit Recreation, an old Grand Touring room, which was before
my time. He started playing snooker for small money, couldn't make a ball....
..the army time hadn't helped his stroke at all.
He couldn't win a game until the house called closing time....Paul dumped
all his money on the table, a few thousand he had saved from the army.
...the room faded his bet and Paul had his only win of the night.
He was a high-roller long before he became wealthy.

A few years later, he bought a new Olds...it had a lot of problems, but GM
wouldn't compensate him....so he bought a Ford....he hired a kid to
drive the Olds around the Gm plant for a few weeks.....
...it was decorated with lemons from his brother Marty's fruit store chain.
On the roof was a big sign that said "GM lemon."

Paul always thought big, so when the Rack days started, he became
known as The King.

I'm glad the rumors of his passing were untrue....
....and I'll always think of him as The King.

Long live the King
 
Hey, speaking of fast rabbits, or other animals.

A liitle lad was visiting his pregnant Mother in the hospital. While he was there, a Priest came in and sprinkled a bit of Holy Water on his Mothers tummy.

The little boy asked the Priest why he did that. The priest told him that was so she would pass a fine baby.

The boy was thoughtful for a few seconds and said, "I know something that works better than that.

The Priest asked him what that was. Gasoline replied the boy.

Gasoline exclaimed the Priest.

Yes, said the boy. Put some on a cats a ss and it'll pass a FKin motorcycle.
 
So this summer my two buddies and my brother and I went up to Chicago for a vacation. We went out to a nice steak dinner and then headed out to some upscale bars in I believe river north. Anyways, this bar is super nice, live band, good drinks and great looking scenery. Well I break my cardinal rule and have to find the bathroom and I'm sh!tfaced at this point. This bar ends up having a nice one person bathroom with a freakin solid gold toilet. I can't believe it, nicest commode I've ever seen. Anyways I handle my business, finish getting blackout drunk and end up leaving my credit card there.

The next morning none of us can remember what the bar's name was but I remember they had a gold crapper and a big blue door. We get in a cab and find a bar in the area with a big blue door and I go in. The bartender is busy setting up the place and I approach him and ask if he has my card. He starts to look for it and as he is doing so I ask, "hey are y'all the bar with the golden toilets?"
He turns his head towards the back and yells out, " hey Lou! Here's they guy who sh!t in your tuba!"
 
Richie Florence

image.jpg

Richie was a gambling man...a high roller and he liked to bet his own money....
...he told me this story when I was a kid...out on the West Coast.

...middle sixties...somewhere in the Carolinas.

A wealthy southern gentleman who loved pool offered to play Richie 9-ball for $20 a game. Richie agreed....the man takes off the jacket of his three-piece suit and wipes his cue down with a monogrammed handkerchief.

They play for a few hours and break for lunch...the man goes home to his wife.
...comes back, same routine, takes off his jacket and wipes his cue....fresh handkerchief.
Richie comes out 25 games ahead, $500....the man offers to play him again the next day.
...same thing all over again...and Richie wins another $500.

The man is a model of politeness...asks him each day if he slept well or enjoyed his lunch.

Sooo...after six days of this soft action, Richie wakes up at the motel on a Sunday....he thinks about meeting the man again at the pool hall....and making another $500 at 20 a game.....
....with a man who is the epitome of a Southern Gentleman, never raises his voice, never asks for a spot...

...now Richie starts thinking of all the high-rolling action he's been in....winning and losing...and how much he misses it.

He flies off the bed, packs his suitcase, checks out, and gets in his car.
He said "I kept my foot on the gas pedal till I was clean out of the Carolinas....
....I like ACTION!"


If all pool hustlers wanted was money, they wouldn't be pool players....
...they NEED to play pool....and it's got to be dangerous.
 
pt109 said:
Richie Florence

View attachment 426354

Richie was a gambling man...a high roller and he liked to bet his own money....
...he told me this story when I was a kid...out on the West Coast.

...middle sixties...somewhere in the Carolinas.

A wealthy southern gentleman who loved pool offered to play Richie 9-ball for $20 a game. Richie agreed....the man takes off the jacket of his three-piece suit and wipes his cue down with a monogrammed handkerchief.

They play for a few hours and break for lunch...the man goes home to his wife.
...comes back, same routine, takes off his jacket and wipes his cue....fresh handkerchief.
Richie comes out 25 games ahead, $500....the man offers to play him again the next day.
...same thing all over again...and Richie wins another $500.

The man is a model of politeness...asks him each day if he slept well or enjoyed his lunch.

Sooo...after six days of this soft action, Richie wakes up at the motel on a Sunday....he thinks about meeting the man again at the pool hall....and making another $500 at 20 a game.....
....with a man who is the epitome of a Southern Gentleman, never raises his voice, never asks for a spot...

...now Richie starts thinking of all the high-rolling action he's been in....winning and losing...and how much he misses it.

He flies off the bed, packs his suitcase, checks out, and gets in his car.
He said "I kept my foot on the gas pedal till I was clean out of the Carolinas....
....I like ACTION!"


If all pool hustlers wanted was money, they wouldn't be pool players....
...they NEED to play pool....and it's got to be dangerous.
Click to expand...

you must spread some reputation around yada yada yada...
 
Blue Hog ridr said:
There was a fellow who was having an affair with one of the girls in his office. Her name was Shirley.

His wifes name was Lorraine. One Sunday afternoon, he was out walking by a river with his wife. His wife got a little close to the rivers edge, fell in and got washed away.

His first thought was, Great, I can see Shirley now, Lorraine is gone.
Click to expand...

You are a bad man but I love it.
 
This is a good opportunity for me to apologize to my good friend pt, for trying to steal his thunder at the beginning of this thread. I could put together a pamphlet of made up jokes and stories whereas pt could fill volumes with genuine, firsthand accounts.
He is a true asset to this forum. :smile:
 
This one makes me laugh everytime I read it:

Dear sir:

I am writing in response to your request for additional information. In
block #3 of the accident reporting form, I put "LOST PRESENCE OF MIND" as
the cause of the accident. You said in your letter that I should explain
more fully, and I trust that the following details will be sufficient.

I am a brick layer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working
alone on the roof of a six-story building. After completing my work, I
discovered that I had about 500 pounds of unused bricks. Rather than
carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by
using a pully, which was fortunately attached to the side of the building
at the sixth floor.

Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel
out, and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went back to the ground and
untied the rope (holding it tightly to insure a slow descent of the 500
pounds of bricks). You will note in block #11 of the accident reporting
form that I weigh 135 pounds.

Due to my surprise at being jerfed off the ground so suddenly, I "LOST MY
PRESENCE OF MIND" and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I
proceeded at a rather rapid rate up the side of the building.

In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel comong down. This
explains my fractured skull and broken collarbone. Slowed only slightly,
I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right
hand were two knuckles deep into the pully.

Fortunately, by this time I had regained my "PRESENCE OF MIND" and was able
to hold tightly to the rope inspite of the pain. At approximately the same
time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out
of the barrel. Devoid of the weight of the bricks, the barrel now weighed
approximately 50 pounds.

I refer you again to my weight in block #11. As you might imagine, I began
a rapid descent down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third
floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured
ankles and the laceration of my legs and lower body.

This encounter with the barrel slowed me enough to lessen my injuries when
I fell into the pile of bricks and, fortunately, only three vertebrae were
cracked.

I am sorry to report, however, as I lay there on the pile of bricks, in
pain, unable to move, I again lost my composure and presence of mind and
let go of the rope and I lay there watching the empty barrel begin its
journey back down onto me. This explains the two broken legs.

I hope this answers your inquiry
 
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Tramp Steamer said:
This is a good opportunity for me to apologize to my good friend pt, for trying to steal his thunder at the beginning of this thread. I could put together a pamphlet of made up jokes and stories whereas pt could fill volumes with genuine, firsthand accounts.
He is a true asset to this forum. :smile:
Click to expand...

Tramp, you're one of the reasons I hang around AZ....
....oh, shit...I just thought about post # 2....:yikes:
 
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