joke thread

[drunk.kiwi]

A father passing by his son's bedroom was astonished to see the bed was

nicely made and everything was picked up. Then he saw an envelope

propped

up prominently on the center of the bed. It was addressed,"Dad" With the

worst premonition, he opened the envelope and read the letter with

trembling hands:

 

 

Dear Dad,

 

It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope

with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with mom and

you.

I've been finding real passion with Joan and she is so nice -- even with

all her piercings, tattoos, and her tight Motorcycle clothes. But it's

not

only the passion dad, she's pregnant and Joan said that we will be very

happy. Even though you don't care for her as she is so much older than

I,

she already owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for
the

>whole winter. She wants to have many more children with me and that's

now

one of my dreams too. Joan taught me that marijuana doesn't really hurt

anyone and we'll be growing it for us and trading it with her friends for
all the cocaine and ecstasy we want. In the meantime, we'll pray that

science will find a cure for AIDS so Joan can get better; she sure

deserves it!!

 

Don't worry Dad, I'm 15 years old now and I know how to take care of

myself.

 

Someday I'm sure we'll be back to visit so you can get to know your

grandchildren.

 

Your son,

John



PS: Dad, none of the above is true. I'm over at the neighbor's house.



I just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than my

report card that's in my desk center drawer. I love you! Call when it is

safe for me to come home.

[DDM]

That ones already been posted in this thread.

[drunk.kiwi]

That ones already been posted in this thread.

oops.......
Thanks for that.
Changed it now.

[DDM]

Now if only i could delete my post so people never knew any different.

*Jedi mind trick*

How many babies does it take to paint a house?



Depends how hard you throw them.

[Phlex]

Haha

[Slim]

Dear Dr. Abby,

I need some advice. I am a sailor in the merchant navy. My parents live in South Auckland and one of my sisters, who lives in Wellington, is married to a guy from Australia. My Father and Mother have recently been arrested for growing and selling marijuana and are currently dependent on my two sisters, who are prostitutes.

I have two brothers, one who is currently serving a non-parole life sentence in Mt. Eden Prison for the rape and murder of a teenage boy in 1994, the other currently being held in Rolleston on charges of incest with his three children. I have recently become engaged to marry a former Thai prostitute who indeed is still a part time working girl in a brothel, however, her time there is limited as she has recently been infected with an STD.

We intend to marry as soon as possible and are currently looking into the possibility of opening our own brothel with my fiancée utilising her knowledge of the industry working as the manager. I am hoping my two sisters would be interested in joining our team. Although I would prefer them not to prostitute themselves, it would at least get them off the streets and hopefully the heroin.

My problem is this: I love my fiancée and look forward to bringing her into the family and of course I want to be totally honest with her but should I tell her about my brother-in-law being Australian?

I have edited it to make it more relevant to us Kiwis...

[Baldesto]

A teacher asks her class to use the word "contagious". Roland the teacher's pet, gets up and says, "Last year I got the measles and my mum said it was contagious." "Well done, Roland," says the teacher. "Can anyone else try?" Katie, a sweet little girl with pigtails, says, "My grandma says there's a bug going round, and it's contagious." "Well done, Katie," says the teacher. "Anyone else?" Little Irish Sean jumps up and says in a broad Dublin accent, "Our next door neighbour is painting his house with a 2 inch brush, and my dad says it will take the contagious."

[Baldesto]

Walking through San Francisco's Chinatown, a tourist from the Midwest was enjoying the artistry of all the Chinese restaurants, shops, signs and banners when he turned a corner and saw a building with the sign "Moishe Plotnik's Laundry." "Moishe Plotnik?" he wondered. "How does that belong in Chinatown?"

He walked into the shop and saw a fairly standard looking drycleaner, although he could see that the proprietors were clearly aware of the uniqueness of the store name as there were baseball hats, T-shirts and coffee mugs emblazoned with the logo "Moishe Plotnik's Chinese Laundry."

The tourist selected a coffee cup as a conversation piece to take back to his office. Behind the counter was a smiling old Chinese gentleman who thanked him for his purchase. The tourist asked, "Can you explain how this place got a name like 'Moishe Plotnik's Laundry?' The old man answered, "Ah...Evleebody ask me that. It name of owner."

Looking around, the tourist asked, "Is he here?" "It me," replies the old man. "Really? You're Chinese. How did you ever get a name like Moishe Plotnik?"

"Is simple", said the old man. Many, many year ago I come to this country. I standing in line at 'Documentation Center of Immigration.' Man in front of me was Jewish man from Poland. Lady at counter look at him and say, "What your name?"

He say, "Moishe Plotnik." Then she look at me and say, "What your name?" I say, "Sam Ting."

[Baldesto]

Stevie Wonder and Tiger Woods are in a restaurant having dinner. Woods turns to Wonder and says, "How's the singing career going"? Stevie Wonder replies, "Not too bad. How's your golf"?

Woods replies, "Not too bad, I've had some problems with my swing, but I think I've got that going right now."

Stevie says, "I always find that when my golf swing goes wrong, I need to stop playing for a while and not think about it. Then, the next time I play, it seems to be all right." Tiger says, "You play golf"? Wonder says, "Oh, yes, I've been playing for years." Woods says, "But you're blind! How can you play golf if you can't see?

Wonder replies, "I get my caddy to stand in the middle of the fairway and call to me. I listen for the sound of his voice and play the ball toward him.

Then, when I get to where the ball lands, the caddy moves to the green or farther down the fairway and again, I play the ball toward his voice"

"But how do you putt"? asks Woods. "Well," says Stevie, "I get my caddy to lean down in front of the hole and call to me with his head on the ground, and I just play the ball toward his voice."

Woods asks, "What's your handicap"? Stevie says, "Well, I'm a scratch golfer."

Woods, amazing, says, "We've got to play a round sometime." Wonder replies, "Well, people don't take me seriously, so I only play for money, and never play for less than $10,000 a hole."

Woods thinks it over and says, "Okay, I'm all for that. When would you like to play"? Stevie says, "Pick a night."

[Baldesto]

Little Johnny's dad was a retired gambler. Having picked up a few of his old man's bad habits, Johnny wagered on anything and everything, and he was good at it. Eventually, it became such a problem, that Johnny's teacher called his father to discuss it. After a long conversation, they decided to teach him a lesson.

One day after class Johnny approached his teacher. "You're not really blonde," he said. "I've seen your bush and it's pitch black, you dye your hair." "I most certainly do not," she replied. "I bet you ten bucks you do," he said.

She saw that this was an opportunity to teach him a lesson, so she waited for all the other children to leave the class and took off her pants, showing him that her pubic hair was the same color as the hair on her head. Johnny paid her the ten dollars and walked sullenly out of the room.

A few hours later Johnny's teacher called his father. "I think I finally taught him a lesson," she said. "The hell you have," his father said angrily. "This morning he bet me $50 he'd see your vagina before the end of the day."

[Baldesto]

I pulled an older woman at a club last night. She was alright sort for 57. We drank a bit, had a bit of a snog and she asked if I'd ever had the sportsman's double - a mother and daughter threesome? I said no. We drank a bit more, then she says that tonight was my lucky night. I went back to her place. She put the hall light on and shouted upstairs: "Mum you still awake?"
--
Men drive too fast, we were told, because the car is an extension of the penis. But if it were, men would surely not drive too fast; they would just back in and out of the garage. Or maybe just polish it all the time.

[UsernamePending]

I have edited it to make it more relevant to us Kiwis...

The joke its relevant to.....



:madcrowd: :madcrowd: :madcrowd:

[Baldesto]

In bed my wife sprawls out all over the mattress. I said, "I'm tired of only having two inches in this bed." She said, "Now you know how I feel."
--
This lady goes to the drug store to buy her husband some toiletries. A clerk comes up to her and asks if she needs some assistance. "I'm looking for some deodorant for my new husband," she says, "but I don't know what type he uses." "Is it the ball type?" The clerk asks. "No," replies the lady, "it's for his underarms."

[Baldesto]

A wedding occurred just outside Cavan in Ireland. To keep tradition going, everyone gets extremely drunk and the bride's and groom's families have a storming row and begin wrecking the reception room and generally kicking the shit out of each other. The police get called in to break up the fight.

The following week, all members of both families appear in court. The fight continues in the courtroom until the judge finally brings calm with the use of his gavel, shouting, "Silence in court!"

The courtroom goes silent and Paddy, the best man, stands up and says, "Judge, I was the best man at the wedding and I think I should explain what happened."

The judge agrees and asks Paddy to take the stand. Paddy begins his explanation by telling the court that it is traditional in a Cavan wedding that the best man gets the first dance with the bride. The judge says, "OK."

"Well," said Paddy, "after I had finished the first dance, the music kept going, so I continued dancing to the second song, and after that the music kept going and I was dancing to the third song, when all of a sudden the groom leapt over the table, ran towards us and gave the bride an unmerciful kick right between her legs."

Shocked, the judge instantly responded, "God, that must have hurt!" "Hurt?" Paddy replies. "He broke three of my fingers!"

[Baldesto]

A guy walks into a bar, notices a very large jar on the counter, and sees it's filled to the brim with $10 bills. He guesses there must be thousands of dollars in it. He approaches the bartender and asks. "What's with the jar?" "Well, you pay $10 and if you pass three tests, you get all the money."

The man certainly isn't going to pass this up. "What are the three tests?" "Pay first, those are the rules." says the bartender. So the man gives him the $10 and the bartender drops it into the jar.

"OK," the bartender says. Here's what you need to do: "First - You have to drink that entire gallon of pepper tequila... the whole thing... all at once... and you can't make a face while doing it. Second, there's a pit bull chained-up out back with a sore tooth. You have to remove the tooth with your bare hands. Third - there's a 90-year old woman upstairs who has never reached orgasm during intercourse. You've gotta make things right for her."

The man is stunned. "I know I paid my $10, but I'm not an idiot! I won't do it! You have to be nuts to drink a gallon of pepper tequila, and then do those other things..." "Your call," says the bartender, "but your money stays where it is."

As time goes by and the man has a few drinks, then a few more, then he asks, "Where ez zat tequila?" He grabs the gallon with both hands and downs it with a big slurp. Tears streaming down both cheeks, but he doesn't make a face.

Next, he staggers out back where the pit bull is chained-up and soon the people inside the bar hear a huge, noisy, scuffle going on outside. They hear the pit bull barking, the guy screaming, the pit bull yelping and then... silence.

Just when they think the man surely must be dead, he staggers back into the bar with his shirt ripped and large bloody scratches all over his body. "Now," he says. "Where's the old woman with the sore tooth?"

[Baldesto]

In the days of the Wild West, there was a young cowboy who wanted more than anything to be the greatest gunfighter in the world. He practiced every minute of his spare time, but he knew that he wasn't yet first-rate and that there must be something he was doing wrong.

Sitting in a saloon one Saturday night, he recognised an elderly man standing at the bar who - in his day - had the reputation of being the fastest gun in the West. The young cowboy took a place next to the old-timer, bought him a drink and told him the story of his great ambition. "Do you think you could give me some tips?" he asked.

The old man looked him up and down and said, "Well, for one thing, you're wearing your gun too high. Tie the holster a little lower down on your leg." "Will that make me a better gunfighter?" asked the young man. "Sure will," replied the old-timer. The young man did as he was told, stood up, whipped out his 44 and shot the bow tie off the piano player. "That's terrific!" said the hot shot. "Got any more tips for me?"

"Yep," said the old man. "Cut a notch out of your holster where the hammer hits it. That'll give you a smoother draw." "Will that make me a better gunfighter?" asked the younger man. "You bet it will," said the old-timer. The young man took out his knife, cut the notch, stood up, drew his gun in a blur, then shot a cufflink off the piano player. "Wow!" exclaimed the cowboy. "I'm learnin' somethin' here. Got any more tips?"

The old man pointed to a large can in a corner of the saloon. "See that axle grease over there? Coat your gun with it." The young man went over to the can and smeared some of the grease on the barrel of his gun. "No," said the old-timer, "I mean smear it all over the gun, handle and all." "Will that make me a better gunfighter?" asked the young man.

The Old Timer said, "No, but when Wyatt Earp gets done playing the piano, he's gonna shove that gun up your ass, and it won't hurt as much if it's all greased!"

[woofnstuff]

Copied off my website
The Best History of NZ Written
It IS long but FUNNY,

Geography:

New Zealand is situated the same distance eastwards from Australia as London is to Moscow. So if anybody tells you it's right next to Australia, tell them to piss off.

It is bigger than Connecticut, but smaller than Canada.

There are two main islands - The North Island and The South Island.

There is also about a zillion other islands dotted around and about, none of which need concern you.

The South Island is slightly bigger than the North Island, but South Islanders that refer to themselves as "Mainlanders" are wankers.

The largest city in New Zealand is Auckland, which has a population of approximately 1,300,000 people, many of whom own Holdens.

The capital is Wellington, which is really boring and windy and don't go there.

The fourth largest New Zealand city is called Bondi, a suburb of Sydney. It has more New Zealanders in it than Hamilton.

Lake Taupo, situated in the centre of the North Island, is very big, but smaller than Texas, and has less guns but more trout.

Why fucking bulls is better than fucking Bulls

The worst place in New Zealand goes by the tantalising and evocative name of Bulls, population two men and a dog. It has achieved it's dubious distinction by having the bones of stranded hitch hikers scattered along all points of egress. It is a shithole; if you manage to escape it within five hours of having entered it, you can count yourself very lucky indeed.

All you need know when travelling in New Zealand is:

North Island: beaches

South Island: mountains

...and don't go to Dannevirke, you'll hate it.

I was recently told about the perfect NZ tourist's map. It is a world map produced by an English publisher for use in schools, probably in the 1940s or 50s. It has marked on New Zealand three cities - Auckland, Wellington and Bennydale.

Go to Bennydale, it's choice. Mollusc's dad got beaten up by a big Maori woman in the Bennydale pub in 1976.

If you're a Crowded House or Split Enz fan, a pilgrimage to Te Awamutu is essential. You will see why Split Enz split, and why Neil Finn used to live in Melbourne.  But is back here now.

Hamilton is a strange place - very foggy in winter, and not in Canada (or Connecticut). If you are hitch hiking in the area and somebody offers you a lift "as far as Hamilton", you can guarantee you will end up walking from one side of town to the other,which will a) take about two hours and b) not endear you to any part of the stinky, boring, flat, green Waikato plains.

History

Many years ago a bloke called Maui went fishing with his brothers, using his grandmother's jawbone as a fish hook (apparently his grandmother's jaw fell off through overuse, an object lesson in verbosity). He caught a big fish and hauled it to the surface. It was a big fish (man). Like, really really big. About as big as the North Island. In fact, if the truth be told, it *was* the North Island. But that's okay, because Maui's canoe was pretty large as well, as big as The South Island (get the picture?)

Maui's brothers, seeing the size of the fish, became jealous and laid into it with their meres and axes and shit, thus conveniently terraforming it into a fairly rugged bit of heavily forested fish (or land, as geologists prefer to call it).

A bit after that, in a huge migration from Hawaiiki (probably no relation), the Maori people arrived in this new land of Aotearoa, The Land of The Long White Cloud. At which point they murdered all the local tribsmen (yes thats right the Maori's were NOT the first ones here). the Morories

After spending about 1000 years not inventing the internal combustion engine, nuclear weapons, those horrible guttering systems which get clogged up with leaves and twigs and dead sparrows and need to be cleaned out every six months, or Unix, the country was colonised (invaded) by Europeans, bringing blankets, muskets, whaling ships, God, syphilis, tuberculosis and guttering systems.

The Maoris, overwhelmed by the European's staggering generosity, occasionally went berko and killed some settlers, but to no avail. By 1840, the Treaty of Waitangi - popularly advertised as New Zealand's founding document - was signed by the Governor of New Zealand (representing Queen Vicky of England) and various Maori chiefs, representing each tribe.

After another thirty years of bloodshed, things began to settle down a little bit and the real business of farming sheep and building towns like Bulls could begin in earnest.

Bulls was built. It still exists today. Aaaaaargh.

The capital was moved from Russell to Auckland to Wellington to London to Washington. There was speculation during the 1940s that the new capital might be Berlin or Tokyo, but such rumours were unfounded in the cold impartial light of military sueriority and nuclear weapons.

World War One came, and with it came the battle of Gallipoli, in which heaps of Kiwis and Aussies got dropped on the wrong beach by a Pommie Bastard who was probably marinating his brain in gin at the time. A battle that should have lasted about twelve hours lasted six months, and cost Gunner Spinley (Mollusc's grandad) his face, which stopped a Turkish bullet.

World War Two rolled around, and thousands more Kiwis died displaying the refreshing lack of self-preservation that Allied High Command was so enamoured with.

The score stands at New Zealand two, Germany nil.

Nuclear ships stopped coming in 1984 with the election of The First Labour Government in a Very Long Time. America loves us slightly less than it did before.

The French blew up a Greenpeace ship, The Rainbow Warrior, in Auckland in 1985. We like the French slightly less than we did before. However, due to the fact that we export dairy products and beef and lamb to France, we don't dislike them enough to really do anything about it.

We won the Rugby World Cup in 1987 and nobody really gives a shit, except Westies and their fathers.

We had a sesquicentenial in 1990 (150th anniversary - we note with interest that the word did not exist prior to 1990). It was crap and lost lots of money.

Politics

[Editor's Note: this stuff is now slightly out of date....]

There are three main political parties in New Zealand: National, Labour and McGillicuddy Serious.

National: Currently the government. A bunch of right wing dickheads, intent of reducing inflation to 0-2% per annum by taking away everybody's money until nobody can afford anything, so prices don't go up. Simple? Rumour has it, so too is the Minister of Finance.

Labour: The Opposition. A bunch of right wing dickheads, who used to be a bunch of left wing dickheads until 1984 when, rumour has it, their souls were all sold to the Business Round Table (Mafia). We don't believe this, no no no, not at all. But it's worth repeating.

McGilicuddy Serious: Scottish Monarchist Regressionists, intent in re-establishing the Jacobite line to supreme executive office, then disassembling all the trappings of modern technology (internal combustion engines, guttering systems, Unix, etc) and living a life of pastoral, clan-oriented bliss. Due to growing popular disillusionment with both National and Labour, an outside favourite to win the 1993 general election.

It is interesting to note that New Zealand has no formal constitution and only one house of Parliament. So, if The McGillicuddy Serious Party is elected, it can do all this quite legally.

[woofnstuff]

Culture

Buzzy Bees: A quintessential piece of Kiwiana. It is a small wooden bee that toddlers can drag around on a piece of string. It has wings that rotate (backwards) and it makes a weird clicking sound. They are being made again....Yippie!!

The Edmond's Cook Book: More copies of this book have been sold in New Zealand than any other book (ever). Produced by Edmonds, makers of fine Baking Powder, Cake Mix and Bournville Cocoa. There are hundreds of recipes, many incorporating Edmond's "Sure to Rise" Baking Powder, Edmond's Cake Mix, and Bournville Cocoa.

Holdens: Holden is an Australian car manufacturer, a subsidiary of General Motors. Most Australiasians either don't know this, or don't care. The classic New Zealand car is a very old grey Holden station wagon, with shot suspension and dodgy brakes. It is driven by Westies. They are popular because they are cheap (because they are crap) and have big engines, which may or may not be V8s. We don't know, nor care. We are cyclists, who dislike most cars and hate Holdens.

Swannies: Woolen bush shirts and jackets made by Swanndri NZ Ltd. Very waterproof, scratchy, rugged, warm and make you look like a mass murderer when hitch hiking.

Pavlova:

3 egg whites 1 teaspoon vinegar

3 tablespoons cold water 1 teaspoon vanilla essence

1 cup castor sugar 3 teaspoons cornflour

Beat egg whites until stiff, add cold water and beat again. Add castor sugar gradually while still beating. Slow beater and add vinegar, vanilla and cornflour. Place of greased paper on greased tray and bake at 150 degrees C (300 F) for 45 minutes, then leave to cool in the oven.

(Courtesy of The Edmond's Cookbook (naturally)).

This recipe never works, nor does any other recipe for pav, except this one:

    *

      $15
    *

      Bicycle
    *

      Carrier bag

Ride bicycle down to supermarket, purchase pavlova with $15, place in carrier bag. Ride home. Remove pavlova from carrier bag, place in cold oven. When guests arrive, remove from oven and say "Look at this pav I just made!"

Any Australians, South Africans, Yugoslavians or Tibetans who tell you that the pav was invented in their country are full of shit and are not to be believed.

Pies: North Americans may be unfamiliar with this phenomenon. A pie is a savoury hors d'ouvres pastry thing, but three times the size, filled with meat (from whence we can only guess) and with a lid on.

The worst pies in New Zealand can be had for NZ$1.80 a piece at a grimy, smelly, cockroach-infested petrol station by Lake Karapiro. Coming a close second are the infamous Putrid Pies of Panmure (a suburb of Auckland). They seem to be available from all the bakeries - do not touch them, they are the source of all evil.

There are some quite nice pies in Queenstown, but we really hate Queenstown, and this ruins the whole pie eating experience for us. There are also some quite nice pies in Onehunga (south Auckland). However, it should be noted that pies can never be rated at anything above "good". Also, pie criticism is one of the most subjective things imaginable.

[frankytanky]

Baldesto could charge this thread all by himself!! +rep for beign good at jokes


what is brown and looks through your window.













































a poo on stilts!!

[TuataraDude]

Also, pie criticism is one of the most subjective things imaginable.

Very true, the Butter Chicken pies at BP are excellent, which proves your point on the subjectivity of the subject. lol.


Oops! As this is a joke thread, better put on in.

Little Johnny (Oh noes, not little Johnny) walks past the bathroom and sees him mum in the bath.
"Mummy, what are those?" he asks pointing at her chest.
"Those are my breats dear".
"What is that?" he asks, pointing at her nether regions.
"erm....that's where your daddy hit me with the axe dear" she replies.
"Really?" he says, "Wow! What a shot! Right in the c**t!".

[Zero_error]

vista

[drunk.kiwi]

Paddy had been drinking at his local Dublin pub all day and most of the night celebrating St Patrick's Day.

Mick, the bartender says, " You'll not be drinking anymore tonight Paddy.

Paddy replies, "OK Mick, I'll be on my way then."

Paddy spins around on his stool and steps off. He falls flat on his face. "Shoite" he says and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts himself off.

He takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his face, "Shoite, Shoite!"

He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if he can just get to the door and some fresh air he'll be fine.

He belly crawls to the door and shimmies up to the door frame. He sticks his head outside and takes a deep breath of fresh air, feels much better and takes a step onto the sidewalk and falls flat on his face.

"Bi'Jesus... I'm fockin' focked," he says.

He can see his house just a few doors down, and crawls to the door, hauls himself up the door frame, opens the door and shimmies inside.

He takes a look up the stairs and says "No fockin' way".

He crawls up the stairs to his bedroom door and says "I can make it to the bed."

He takes a step into the room and falls flat on his face.

He says "Fock it" and falls into bed.

The next morning, his wife, Jess, comes into the room carrying a cup of coffee and says, "Get up Paddy. Did you have a bit to drink last night?".

Paddy says, "I did Jess. I was fockin' pissed. But how'd you know?"

Mick phoned, . . . You left your wheelchair at the pub."

[drunk.kiwi]

A man decides to take off early from work and go drinking. He stays until the bar closes at 2am, at which time he is extremely drunk. When he enters his house, he doesn't want to wake anyone, so he takes off his shoes and starts tip-toeing up the stairs. Half-way up the stairs, he falls over backwards and lands flat on his rear end. That wouldn't have been so bad, except that he had couple of empty pint bottles in his back pockets, and they broke, and the broken glass carved up his buttocks terribly. But, he was so drunk that he didn't know he was hurt.

A few minutes later, as he was undressing, he noticed blood, so he checked himself out in the mirror, and, sure enough, his behind was cut up something terrible. Well, he repaired the damage as best he could under the circumstances, and he went to bed.

The next morning, his head was hurting, and his rear was hurting, and he was hunkering under the covers trying to think up some good story, when his wife came into the bedroom.

"Well, you really tied one on last night," she said. "Where'd you go?"

"I worked late," he said, "and I stopped off for a couple of beers."

"A couple of beers? That's a laugh," she replied. "You got plastered last night. Where the heck did you go?"

"What makes you so sure I got drunk last night, anyway?"

"Well," she replied, "my first big clue was when I got up this morning and found a bunch of band-aids stuck to the mirror."

[drunk.kiwi]

You are driving in a car at a constant speed.

On your left side is a valley and on your right side is a fire engine traveling at the same speed as you.

In front of you is a galloping pig which is the same size as your car and you cannot overtake it.

Behind you is a helicopter flying at ground level.

Both the giant pig and the helicopter are also traveling at the same speed as you.

What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?














Don't ride the kiddie merrygo round when you are drunk, so get off.

(the sad thing is, I've been there:disappoin )

[Baldesto]

After having been served in a Las Vegas cocktail lounge, a real southern gentleman beckoned the waitress back and said quietly, "Miss, y'all sure are a luvly, luvly lady... can ah persuade y'all to give me a piece of ass?"

"Lord, that's the most direct proposition I've ever had!" gasped the girl. Then she looked around the room, smiled and added, "Sure, why not!? You're nice lookin' too and it's pretty slow here right now, so why don't we just slip away up to my room?"

When the pair returned half an hour later, the man sat down at the same table and the waitress asked, "Will there be anything else, sir?"

"Why yes," replied the southern gentleman. "Ah sure 'preciate what y'all just did for me; it was real sweet and right neighbourly, but where ah come from in Ten'see, we lack our bourbon real cold, so ah still need to trouble y'all for a piece uh ass for mah drink."