Jokes

Combine_Advisor

Combine_Advisor

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Put your jokes here
Here is a one that i think u will find funny:
The Iranian president sends Bush a letter but didnt want to reveal its content.Bush opens the letter and finds something that looks like a code:
370HSSV 0773H
Since Bush didnt know what that was he sends it to the FBI.The FBI couldnt decifer it so they send it to the CIA.Same thing there.And at the NSA.So they ask MI-6 for help.A minute later they fax the white house:
"Tell the president he was holding the letter upside down"
:E:E:E:E:E:E
 
ike_where_this_thread_is_going-vi.jpg
 
There is this cat see, and this Elephant, and the cat is walking along a sewer pipe as the Elephant rushes by saying "STOP THAT WATERMELON CART!!" and the cat says "Heyyy, thats no watermelon cart, thats my mother!"

:LOL:
 
So, an atheist and a creationist walk into a bar, and the atheist goes 'You suck!' to the creationist and he's all like 'I know'.

OLOLOLOLOL
 
OK, so when are there going to be actual jokes in this thread?
 
So these two girls are sunbathing on some train tracks...
 
A mouse walks into a space bar and orders a tab.

Warning: the only funny part of the joke below this is how much time you waste reading it
 
WARNING: This is the longest joke in the world.

longestjokeinv.gif


/thread
 
Spoiler tags are your friend when uploading a$$h@lishly large pics....
 
****ing hell, did anyone acutally READ that huge joke!?

I couldn't :(
 
I don't have that kind of time to waste on rediculous stuff like that...
 
That joke has been posted before. It's just a very long elaborate buildup into a pun.
 
Teacher: So Johnny, how was your weekend?
Johnny: Horrible. A car hit my dog, right in the ass!
Teacher: Rectum.
Johnny: Wrecked 'em? Damn near killed 'em!

----

A horse walks into a bar and the bartender asks him: why the long face?

</thread>
 
highlander said:
****ing hell, did anyone acutally READ that huge joke!?

I couldn't :(
Click to expand...


I read it a long time ago in an old joke thread. It's quite good, you should all take the time to read it.


What's the best thing about a blowjob?

TEN MINUTES OF SILENCE!


HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

:|
 
So a sheep and a goat walk into a whore house. The goat says "Hey what did you say?" The sheep says "I didn't say anything". The goat says "SPEAK UP! I can't shear you! LOLOLOL"

^Your guess is as good as mine^
 
Darkside55 said:
So these two girls are sunbathing on some train tracks...
Click to expand...

...and fall asleep, with their necks across one rail and their feet across the other rail - they are uncommonly tall girls, or it is a narrow-gauge railway, I forget which. Anyway, their necks are across one of the rails and as they lie there in the sun, very little on, sunbathing you know, and in case you are wondering the one of them was sixteen and the other fifteen going on the number aforementioned, both of them about now reaching the age, or in the case of one of them, who was more precocious than the other, having reached the age somewhat earlier, in an series of incidents that culminated in a brief but very educational encounter in the back seat of a '98 Ford Escort - consequently she had already reached the point, as her friend had reached more recently, where a young girl realises the effect that her wearing a bikini tends to have on observers of the opposite sex (or the same sex, appropriately inclined). Now, these two young flowers were lying there across the tracks in their bikinis, in the hot sun, it being a summers day of the very hottest and loveliest type, where the very colour and tenor of the world seems improved, and such was the day that the heat began to have a soporific effect on them. They started to doze off. Easy thing to do - I'm sure many of you gentlemen there have done it many a time before, although perhaps not while lying across train tracks. I hear train tracks get very hot when it's sunny, and I imagine it would be quite painful. Searing and all that. Look like a human chargrill wouldn't you. In any case the girls were heedless of this danger, just as they were entirely ignorant to a much greater danger that to all of you and certainly to me should be very obvious indeed but to them was evidently not as obvious as it should have been - a danger even now bearing down on them.

Now it just so happened that a man was walking along the side of the tracks at this time. He was walking his dog along the side of the tracks. I'm not sure about the details of the dog, as they are mostly irrelevant to the passage of this joke, and so I will elaborate no further upon it, rather preferring to focus my powers of description upon the man, who was tall, lean, dark, not very handsome. Had a big nose and quite a mop of hair on him - one might have called him uncouth, or even shaggy, if the latter word did not bring about uncomfortable echoes of a certain children's television programme that I am sure many of you remember fondly. So, this bloke was walking down the side of the tracks and he saw the two young ladies lying there across the tracks. There they were, stretched out over the rails, just beginning to blossom into fine adulthood, and wearing clothes explicitly designed to show the fact off. Now the man stood there for a while, contemplating the two girls. His mind was divided between the danger of their position, and the pleasantness of simply remaining where he was, watching them. It wasn't that he was a particularly unsavoury man; although he had it in his mind to tie both girls to the tracks, cut the straps of their garments with the knife that he habitually carried and rape them both in turn, as many times as he felt he would like to, beating them bruised and bloody the while, and afterwards to take his knife to their cunts and fuck them with it, subsequently (as they screamed shrilly) excising their clits and making an incision from the top of their cunts up through their bellies, between their breasts, and up to their throats - slitting them open like fish - but he fought down this thought. Sometimes such visions and dark impulses rose unbidden in his mind and he was always disgusted by their vivacity, and their perversity. In fact in all his life he had never laid a harmful hand on a woman. He had caused emotional pain, of course. Every person in this world has caused someone else emotional pain - but few do it deliberately, and if he had done, only rarely, and not unless he felt it was deserved. As said, he quelled the impulse. Instead, he resolved to attempt to wake them up and warn them that they were doing a very dangerous thing, as any old vagabond who was not as in control of his dark self as he was might at any moment happen along and decide to do what he was so consummately preventing himself from doing.

He shook their shoulders. He shouted at them too, and slapped them around the faces. He even let drop a little liquour from his hip flask upon their faces. And yet wake they did not. Sleeping beauties, oblivious to the danger they were in, and ignorant entirely of the harsh marks already being burnt onto their virgin necks and calves. That said, of the more precocious of the girls, whose past exploits I have mentioned already, it could never be said that her neck was 'virgin', having bore in the past perhaps too many for her age of what would charitably be described as 'love-bites' and what would uncharitably, and more truthfully, be described as the strange and fairly frightening kinks of a 23-year old goth whom the precocious girl was merely a prop for his twisted vampiric fantasies, in which he imagined himself as a modern blood-sucker of the Anne Rice variety, preying on drunk and gormlessly willing victims with alabaster skin and ebony hair (the girl, at the time, fulfilled these preliminary requirements in all but one respect - she was not drunk, but she had earlier consumed nasally a substantial quantity of Methylenedioxy-N-methylamphetamine, or MDMA). This quirk of description, however, should, it is hoped, be accepted as narrative caprice, or what is commonly called 'artistic license'. Accordingly the story will continue without pause for apology. Art gives no apology, nor asks forgiveness. Now, however much the man tried he could not wake up either of the two girls, and presently he began to try various alternative - that is to say esoteric - methods. Methods not to be anticipated by any reasonable person. The heat was making him a little light-headed, and so he conceived plans such as which a 'reasonable person' would be unlikely to think very effective. First he barked like a dog. Then he sang and danced. Eventually he tried telling them jokes.

Many jokes he told them, most of which you will have heard before. Some of them were funny and some of them were not, but none of them succeeded in waking the two sleeping girls. After exhausting almost his entire repetoir, he told one of his favourite jokes, which was so high in his affections that he had decided to save it till nearly last. It went like this:

So there's these three nuns, right, an english nun, an irish nun and a french nun. The three nuns was entering confession and the priest was like listening to them confessing their sins. The first nun was the english nun and she came up to the confession booth and she's all like "forgive me father, I've sinned, I've had bad thoughts about men" and the priest, fairly bored of such tales by now, says "say ten hail marys and drink from the chalice of holy water, and you are forgiven, child." The next nun comes along, the irish nun, and she sits in the confession booth, and after a slight hesitation she manages to say: "forgive me father, for I have sinned, I've fornicated", and the priest tells her "say forty hail marys and drink from the chalice of holy water, and child, you shall be absolved." Now the third nun comes up, the french nun - got an accent inshe, but I ain't gonna do it - she comes into the booth and says "forgive me father, for I have sinned - " and hesitates. "Yes?" says the priest. "Well..." the french nun continues, "when I lived out in Cowley I used to get the number 59 bus to the convent every morning, and every morning on the number 59 bus there would also be a - how do you say - a hippy, riding on the bus with me. And every morning he would be casting his wanton eyes upon me. One day he struck up the courage to ask me if I would accompany him to - what is it? a pub, yes. And I said no, of course I said no. I was repulsed. And yet - there was - well. Afterwards he began talking to the bus driver. "Cor, that nun, eh?" he said. "Fit as." The bus driver waggled his eyebrows, and said "I know what to do. Listen 'ere. Every night at 10pm that nun goes down the graveyard and prays to jesus. Now if you were to appear unto her, dressed as the good lord, why, she'd do anyfink you told 'er too." "Cracking good idea that," said the hippy.

That night I was praying in the graveyard to Our Most Heavenly Father, as is my custom, and suddenly there was a sounding of trumpets, such as I did not expect to hear until the end days - and out from behind the largest gravestone there came a man in a white robe, a halo dancing around his head, and I had no doubt that it was the Lord Our Jesus Christ come to me at last. "I am the Resurrection* and I am the Light! he said. "You have been chosen. I must enter you." Mon pere, as you can imagine, this made me unsure, but such is my faith in god that I accepted his request. I told him I had one condition - he was to enter me from behind, so that I could preserve my virginity. And so he did enter me, there in that graveyard.

*see last ish - ed

After we were finished, a most horrible thing happened. He threw off his robe, and said 'I'm the hippy!'

My world crumbled around me. I was sent reeling into a state of shock. I could not see or hear, and i remember nothing - nothing at all - until I find myself at home, clutching a glass of gin, and the bottle that was full the day before now half empty, mon pere, my god! I felt entirely numb, and yet I could still - could still feel the pain in my - my - well, you know. I could still feel it.

Initially, as I said, I was numb. I felt nothing. I did not attend convent for some time. You see, I was in shock. When people spoke to me I did not respond, for I did not seem to hear them - I forgot small details of my life. How to operate the television, and to turn off the stove when I had finished cooking. I forgot the telephone numbers of friends and the addresses of my mother. And my thoughts, mon pere, felt simply shattered - I could not collect them, and yet I felt so calm.

And then I began to realise - it hit me - like a bomb - what had been done to me in what I thought was the name of God. At first, I blamed myself. Later I was told by a psychologist - Brother Benton, you know him - that this is a stage common to women who have been - who have - " the french nun could not continue, and paused for a minute. The priest was silent. The nun continued, remembering with pain that period of her life which had been awful to her. "I am so sorry, mon pere. I - it is as I say. I felt that something wrong with me, some wrong act, must have been at fault for what had happened to me. It was I who was to blame, you see? Somehow I had faltered on the path into heaven, somehow been sinful and self-deceiving and carried a guilty conscience, and so I deserved - I deserved - it.

The world seemed altogether too large. Crowds I could not tolerate. Though the stage of numbness passed, the anxiety continued - I was afraid all the time, mon pere, afraid for my life, for myself, for my - yes, and the dreams, they were terrible. I remember how I would fall asleep and wake up to see a dark figure over my bed - how I screamed and screamed. And yet at some point which even now I cannot remember when it was, I stopped blaming myself, and - the - the - the - it was no longer the central point of my life.

Although my life began to return to its normal state, my mind - ah! yet did not. I had stopped blaming my self, yes, for who had been more attentive to God, more diligent in their prayers, more pure of mind and heart and soul than I? Few I could think of - there was never anything I had done to incur the wrath of God. I put aside such thoughts, as one must put aside all such thoughts...all such doubts that one has. And yet, worse, the - he had appeared to me in the shape of our lord, and although I knew him now for a deceiver, it was nonetheless true that the robes and the halo, unfortunately true to the classical depiction of our saviour, had become irrevocably associated in my mind with the figure of the - the devil that had come upon me that night. I could not see the paintings nor hear the words of Jesus without a little shadow and a shudder of the fear I had felt before...

It was this constant reminder of the horror in my life that would not allow me to entirely dismiss my doubts. The - it - had shattered not only my anus but my thoughts, my peace of mind and, I feared, my faith. Yes, it had distorted my very connection to God. I could not help asking myself what kind of God would permit such a thing to happen to a poor lamb of the Lord who had done nothing - nothing, mon pere! - to invite the wrath of heaven, nor any act deserving of such harsh punishment.

And further, I began to realise that although no blame could be lost by the vile hippy who had done this to me, although not a thing in the world could make him any less culpable for the act he had committed, I realised that I had myself contributed - that, without decreasing the awfulness of what he had done, I had helped it to happen. In my bright faith in the heavens I never suspected, nor had a single inkling, that it was not really Our Lord who had in that graveyard appeared to me. I had absolute faith that it was He. I was certain. My faith, it was so strong, I was willing to cloud my own eyes - his halo was cooking foil, mon pere! And yet I thought, really believed, that I gazed with rapturous eyes upon the shining face of the Creator.

It dawned upon me at that time, mon pere, that it was not enough to believe blindly. I could not be the only one in the world who was harmed through not thinking hard enough. And slowly I began to wonder, thinking of the hippy and his disguise, what had been done to me - I began to wonder - what else has been done that wears the mask of God? What else has been done falsely in his name?"
Click to expand...
 
Silence prevailed, as the shaggy man sat; his joke was over. All through the tale the two ladies had been as silent as the grave. They had not stirred one bit. The man looked out across the train track, into the distance where it vanished into a tunnel, and looked the other way too, where it stretched off into the afternoon haze. He did not feel like telling jokes any longer.

But it was then that, slowly, the girls began to awaken. First the man saw fingers twitch, and eyelids shiver. Their faces shining in the sunlight, they woke up there on the train tracks, and blinked their sleepy eyes.

The younger and less precocious girl saw the man first. She let out a tiny scream, then closed her mouth, staring up at him. Her cry woke the other girl fully, who also looked up in surprise at the shaggy man.

The man himself realised he must look quite imposing silhouetted as he was against the light of the sun - not to mention his unkempt appearance - and he made quickly to reassure the girls that his intentions (if not his desires) were sound.

"Aw, sorry, girls, I didn't mean ter frighten you, I'm so sorry - " he blurted out.

The younger of the two girls stayed silent, gazing up at him in mute suspicion and not a little fear, but the older of the two, the more precocious, of exploits aforementioned, quickly regained her compositure. "Hello," she said, eyeing him, and yet somehow managing to inject into that simple single word the undeniable impression that she was very happy to see the listener, and should very much like to see more of him.

The man was not completely lacking in social graces and recognised this tone at once. Deciding to take an ironic approach, he asked "what are nice girls like you doing on a freight line like this?"

"I could ask you the same question," responded the precocious girl, somewhat coquettishly.

"Me? Oh, I was cruising for chicks."

"It looks as if you've found some."

"So I have. What's your name?"

"Ruth."

"I'm Doug," the man replied. “Though sometimes my friends call me Terry.”

“Why do they do that?”

“Short for terrier." This was the truth.

“That's a weird nickname." That was also the truth. "How did you get it?"

"I'm always chasing after people - women," grinned Doug. The girl laughed, although her companion remained schtum. "Actually," Doug continued, "I was also looking for the freight office."

"Really? How dull. Why?"

"Well, I have a load I need to shift." The tone of Doug's voice made his implication quiet obvious.

The girl bit her lip. "And you were looking for somewhere to store it."

"Yes. Only I was having trouble finding a place that was...accomodating."

"Big, is it?" A seductive flash of teeth.

"Huge."

"Oh my."

Doug knew the time had come to make the proposal. "I don't suppose you could help me?"

"Sorry," said the girl, grinning up at him. "I don't want to be a shaggy Doug storee."







*
 
So, it took me an hour, but I finally got through the huge ass joke while at work. I lawled REAL FREAKING hard.
 
sulkdodds you're ****ing crazy man, i am not reading that! it has trickery written all over it!
 
Oh God, I just wasted an hour of my life reading that joke, but it was worth it.
 
How many babies does it take to paint a wall?










Depends on how hard you throw them.
 
Oh dear, I rememeber the last time we spammed a thread with dead baby jokes.

What's the difference between baby blood and mountain dew?

Blood's genuinely refreshing.
 
Knock Knock....

Knock Knock....

Go away there's nobody here!
 
How do you turn a dishwasher into a snowblower?


give her a shovel

Have I ever told you guys the one about the agnostic, dyslexic, insomniac?


He couldn't sleep at night trying to figure out whether or not there is a dog
 
FishBulb said:
WARNING: This is the longest joke in the world.

*snip

/thread
Click to expand...
Hahahahaha! :LOL:

<looks at more> Hahahahrrmph :| ,

<continues to view post>, :sleep: Zzzzzzz Zzzzzzz.

<Wakes up an hour and a half later> :frown: LAME!

Next time use spoiler tags!
 
I thought about it, but decided that would ruin the whole purpose of posting the longest joke in the world. :rolleyes:
 
If you're floating down the river on a concrete slab, and all four wheels fall off, how many pancakes can fit in a dog house?

None, because ice cream has no bones!
 
That's the best thing I've ever read in my life, Willie.
 
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