JOKES !!!!

[DJKOR]

In response to the previous post....

Um, I've seen my fair share of lame a** jokes, and well... I'm lost for words on that one.

[Steven]

Okay so at my school we have faculty advisers that are assigned to students according to their last names. The faculty advisers help students with scheduling conflicts, general questions, help with internships/employment, etc. My adviser is named Jess Depew, and she's pretty hot. She's like 25 and she's only been at the school a few years. Anyway, I have been looking into getting an internship at a TV station or something over the summer, and the school helps coordinate these things with an internship database that's maintained by the advisers. You log in with your student ID and password and you can browse internships and stuff. I was having trouble logging on to mine so I went to go see Miss Depew. That's where all the trouble started.

Firstly, I walked into the office like 15 minutes early like an idiot and she's in the middle of lunch. So I akwardly make stupid small talk until she's finished.

"Oh hey, what are you eating?"

"Salmon. I love it, I eat it practically every day."

"Just salmon? That's weird." Why did I say this?

"Oh, well, I don't know. I try to eat healthy, natural foods... you know, like wild berries and honey and stuff."

"Yeah, I like food too." *facepalm*

Man, I was so nervous. Anyway, we finally begin squaring my stuff away. She looks up what I registered with in the beginning of the year. This is when the crap really hit the fan. This is how the conversation went:

"Okay, your account name is [my name] and your password is 'depewissexy'...

Oh crap. I completely forgot that I put that as my password at the beginning of the year. What the heck was I thinking? It was probably the longest 20 seconds of my life before I finally got my balls together to stand up and leave. Just as I walk out the door she says,

"In the future, you might want to bear in mind what kind of things you want to keep to yourself." I was so freaking embarassed I wanted to kill myself right then and there. I wanted to run the heck out of there and never, ever see her again. But something about what she said kept me standing out the doorway. I decided to man up and apologize. I turned to her, looked her straight in the eyes, and swallowed my pride. And then, it hit my like a train full of bricks.

She was eating salmon.

She tries to eat healthy, all-natural foods like wild berries and honey.

She told me that I might want to bear in mind the kind of things I want to keep to myself.

Miss Depew was a bear disguised as a human!

Immediately, the bear saw that I had seen through its charade. It roared loudly and took a menacing swipe at me. I deftly avoided its claw and sprinted out of the office. The bear was soon in chase, crashing through the walls of the office as if they were made of paper. I jumped over the receptionist desk and ran out the back entrance. The bear followed, tossing the secretary aside like a rag doll. The bear began to pursue me through the street traffic. While I fought my way through the maze of vehicles, the bear simply careened its massive force through anything standing in its way. Cars veered of the road to escape the onslaught of grizzly force that was barreling down the road. The bear was gaining fast. I had no other option but to make my way into the nearest building: a preschool. I burst through the door, startling the children from their naps. Immediately, the bear slammed through the wall, crushing a child beneath its massive paws and burying several other children in sheet rock and debris. I maneuvered my way through the chaos towards the back exit. The preschoolers were little more than a screaming annoyance for the bear. Its massive paws cut swaths through the sea of toddlers with each swipe. I used the precious time these children had afforded for me to make my escape into the playground. I scrambled up a ladder to a fort-like structure. I walked across the monkey bars to a tree which I climbed to the roof of the preschool. I was eventually able to flag down a passing helicopter. I had survived...

[Steven]

In response to the previous post....

Um, I've seen my fair share of lame a** jokes, and well... I'm lost for words on that one.

It's not even lame enough to be funny. It's just, lame...

[Morequick]

^ lol, found it hanging around a Warcraft Forum.

maybe Tucker Max can turn that frown upside down. Slightly longer than the jokes being passed around, but interesting read (will filter out the profanity).

[i spent the summer between my 2nd and 3rd year of college suckling on the parental teat in South Florida. It was the absolute prime of my “do anything to get laid” phase. I was recently freed from a 4-year long-distance relationship that began in high school and I wanted nothing more than to have sex with as many girls as possible.

Most of the things I did that summer are not story-worthy; you can only tell the same, “I got drunk on Dom and f*cked this hottie” story so many times before it gets annoying. That summer I experienced every random sex situation that a 20 year old can imagine: f*cking on the beach, getting head from random girls in club bathrooms, sleeping with 3 different girls in a day, getting so drunk I passed out during sex, getting arrested for receiving fellatio in the pool at the Delano, blah, blah, blah…Jesus. What does it say about how f*cked up my life is that I don’t consider these stories to be extraordinary anymore?

Anyway, while most of my stories may not be extraordinary for me, there is one very notable exception…

I was seeing one girl, “Jaime,” about twice a week. She was a fresh arrival to South Beach, having moved there 5 months ago from upstate New York as a 19 year old with a modeling contract. We met through a mutual friend who befriended her while they were shooting a TV commercial. Five weeks and lots of sex later, she thought we were dating. I knew better, but she was way too hot to bother correcting her assumption.

The ex-girlfriend of 4-years I previously spoke about was very sexually conservative. It was missionary in the dark and then straight to sleep, with maybe a blowjob on the weekends if she’d had a few glasses of wine with dinner (it was a high school relationship, I didn’t know any better). After four years of this, I was ready to experience all the things I’d missed out on (when I wasn’t cheating on her, of course).

Buttsex, known in the biz as “anal,” was one of these unknowns, and I decided that I wanted to try it. Jaime was the perfect partner: very hot and very sweet, and more importantly, very naïve and very open to suggestion.

She was reluctant at first, not understanding why we just couldn’t keep having normal sex, so I had to employ my persuasive powers:

Jaime “But…I’ve never done it.”

Tucker “I’ve never done it either; it can be our thing.”

Jaime “But…I don’t know if I’ll like it.”

Tucker “You won’t have to worry about getting pregnant.”

Jaime “But…I like normal sex.”

Tucker “Everyone’s doing anal. It’s the new black.”

Jaime “But…I don’t know…it seems weird.”

Tucker “It’s the preferred method in Europe. Especially with the runway models. Don’t you want to do runways in Europe?”

After a few weeks of this, she finally consented. Though she agreed to let me put my ***** in her small hole, she extracted a promise in return:

“OK, we can try anal sex, but I want it to be special and romantic. You have to take me out to a nice place, like The Forge or Tantra, NOT one of your parent’s restaurants, and it has to be a weekend night, NOT a Monday. And you have to keep taking me out on weekends. I’m tired of being your Monday night girl.”

I made reservations for the next Friday at Tantra. Aside from being insanely expensive, Tantra is famous for having grass floors. Really; they put in new sod every week. They also advertise their food as “aphrodisiac cuisine.” Yes, at that point in my life, I thought these things worked.

Thanks to my father’s connections, I got us a corner booth in the grass room. She was quite impressed. I ordered like it was the Last Supper. No expense was spared. Two $110 bottles of merlot, veal rack, stone crabs, the Tantra Love platter–it was lavish and decadent. I was 21, stupid, and wanted to f*ck Jaime in the butt; I wasn’t about to let a $400 tab get in my way.

By the time we left Tantra, this girl had doe eyes that made Bambi look like a heroin-chic CK model. She could not have been more in love with me. The entire drive back to my place she was rubbing my crotch, telling me how badly she wanted to me to f*ck her, how hot I made her, etc, etc. We get back to my place and our clothes are off before we even get in the door. We collapse on the bed and start f*cking. Normal vaginal sex at first, just like always.

Now, what she did not know, and what I have not told you yet, was that I had a surprise waiting for her.

[Aside: Before I tell you what the surprise was, let me make this clear: As I stand right now, 27 as of this writing, I am a bad person. At 21, I was possibly the worst person in existence. I had no regard for the feelings of others, I was narcissistic and self-absorbed to the point of psychotic delusion, and I saw other people only as a means to my happiness and not as humans worthy of respect and consideration. I have no excuse for what I did; it was wrong and I regret it. Even though I normally revel in my outlandish behavior, sometimes even I cross the line, and this is one of those situations....but of course, I'm still going to write about it.]

This was going to be my first time foraging in the ***** forest, and I wanted to have a reminder of my trip, a memento I could carry with me the rest of my life…so I decided to film us.

I planned this beforehand, but I was afraid she would decline, so instead of being mature and discussing this with Jaime, I just made the executive decision to get it on camera…without telling her.

That alone is pretty bad. But instead of just setting up a hidden camera…I got my friend to hide in my closet and film it.

No really–I know that I will burn in hell. At this point, I’m just hoping that my life can serve as a warning to others.

I left my door unlocked and we arranged it so that around midnight my friend would go over to my place and wait until my car pulled in, and then run into the closet and get the camera ready. The top half of the closet door was a French shutter, so it was easy to move the slats and give him a decent camera shot through the closed door.

By the time Jaime and I got to the bed, I was so drunk I had forgotten that he was filming this, and of course she had no idea he was there. After a few minutes of standard sex, she kinda stopped and said, all serious and in her best seductive soap opera voice, “I’m ready.”

I quickly flipped her over and grabbed the brand new bottle of AstroGlide I had on my bedside table.

A week prior, after Jaime consented to buttsex, I realized that I didn’t have any idea how to do it. How exactly do you f*ck a girl in the *****? Luckily, I had the world’s best anal sex informational resource at my disposal: The gay waiter. I consulted several gay waiters who worked at one of my parents restaurants about the mechanics of buttsex, and each one recommended AstroGlide as the lubricant of choice. Much to my dismay, I learned that spitting on your ***** is not enough lube for buttsex. Stupid, lying porn movies.

The other important piece of advice I remembered was from Calvin, “Make sure you use enough, because if this is her first time, she’ll be especially tight, and it might hurt her. Use enough to really loosen her up and go slow until she gets used to it. Then it’s smooth sailing from there.”

Well, since some is good, more is better, right? At 21, this seemed logical.

I opened the cap, crammed the bottle top into her *****, and squeezed. I probably emptied half of the 4-ounces of AstroGlide into her. I have since learned from homosexuals that a 4-ounce bottle usually lasts them about 6 months. So yeah–I overdid it.

But Tucker Max wasn’t done. Oh no, after depositing enough grease in her to run a Formula One racecar, I dumped half of what remained onto my c*ck and balls, really wanting to lube up because I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.

Really–consider my thought process: I was going to f*ck her in the butt and film it without her consent, yet I was truly concerned about her personal comfort. Sometimes the contradictions in my personality even amuse me.

Predictably, I slid in with ease. She was a little tense at first, but with an Exxon Valdez size load spilled into her poop chute, she quickly loosened up and got into it. I liked it also; it had a different feel to it. Not as good as vaginal sex, a little grainy, kinda tight, but still very nice.

Before I knew it I was f*cking her like the apocalypse was imminent, burying it to the hilt with impunity. After a few minutes I was ready to come. My urgency was expressed in my tempo, and I began really jackhammering her. As the excitement got the best of me, I pulled out too far and my ***** came out of her *****. I kinda scrambled to grab my ***** and put it back in so I could finish off inside of her, but before I could even get a hold of it and put it back in her *****, I heard a faint “psssst” sound and felt something wet and warm hit my crotch.

It was dark in the room (I was not smart or sober enough to leave the lights on for the camera), so after I looked down it took me a few seconds to realize that my *****, balls and groin area were covered in a viscous black liquid. I stopped moving and stared at my strangely colored crotch for a good 5 seconds, completely confused, until I realized what happened:

“Did you…did you just…**** on my *****??”

I reached down to touch the liquid feces, still in complete and utter disbelief that this girl shot explosive diarrhea on my *****, when, without warning, the smell hit me.

I have a very sensitive nose, and I have never been more repulsed by a smell in my life. The combination of synthetic AstroGlide and rancid stench of raw fecal matter combined to turn my stomach, which was full of seafood, veal and wine, completely over.

I tried to hold it back. I really did everything I could to stop myself, but there are certain physical reactions that are beyond conscious control. Before I knew what I was doing, it just came out:

“BBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH”

I vomited all over her *****. Into her crack. Into her *****. On her ***** cheeks. On the small of her back. Everywhere.

She turned her head, said, “Tucker, what are you doing?,” saw me vomiting on her, screamed “Oh my God!,” and immediately joined me:

“BBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH”

Watching her throw up on my bed made me vomit even more. Her vomiting all over my bed, me vomiting on her *****, the next step was almost inevitable.

I heard the loud CRASH first, turned to see my friend break through the shutters and rip the closet door off as he, the video camera, and the door tumbled out of the closet and crashed onto the floor next to us:

“BBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH”

The memory of the 2-second span where all three of us were vomiting at once is permanently seared into my brain. I have never heard anything like that symphony of sickness. It was like something out of the old Pink Panther movies.

I think the crowning moment was when my eyes locked with Jaime’s, I saw her moment of realization and then her quick shift from shock and surprise to complete and irreparable anger. Between bouts of hurling she flipped out:

“OH MY GOD–BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH–YOU FILMED THIS, YOU *****– BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH– HOW COULD YOU– BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH–I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME–BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH–OH MY GOD– BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH–I LET YOU F*CK ME IN THE *****–BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH.”

She tried to stand up, slipped on the huge puddle of backflow AstroGlide on the bed, and fell into both my pile and her pile of vomit, covering her body and hair in vomit, **** and anal lubricant. She flailed on the bed for a second, grabbed the top sheet, wrapped it around her, and started running out of my place. Still naked and retching, my ***** covered in **** and oil, I followed her as far as my front door.

The last contact I ever had with her is the image I witnessed of her in a dead sprint, a ****, vomit and grease stained sheet stuck to her body, running from my apartment.

POST-SCRIPT:

The camera we used was one of those old fragile ones that filmed onto a VHS tape, and when he crashed out of the closet, the tape recorder and tape broke. It didn’t occur to us at that the tape records the images magnetically, and we could take the actual tape itself and get someone to put it in another holster until after we had thrown it out. I know it seems stupid now, and believe me I kick myself about it everyday, but you should have seen the apartment afterwards–the tape was not a high priority. AstroGlide, **** and vomit covered EVERYTHING.

I had to rent one of those steam cleaners, buy a new mattress, and I STILL lost my deposit. It was impossible to get the smell out. The next month was like living in a sewer. Every girl I brought back to my place after that refused to stay there, and some even refused to sleep with me anywhere because of how my place smelled.

What I never found out, and I still want to know, is how the girl got home. I never heard from her again, and the mutual friend who introduced us called her but didn’t get her calls returned. I never heard anything about her or from her again, even though she left her clothes and ID at my place (she wore a tight dress out that night, and didn’t bring a purse or any money with her).

Can you picture that scene? What did she do, hop in taxi? Wave down a passing car? Get on the bus? She lived at least 30 miles away, there is no way she walked home. It perplexes me to this day.

I’m hoping she reads this. Maybe then I’ll find out how she got home.]

Edited August 29, 2010 by Morequick

[SuperDave]

An old Italian man lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden; but it was very difficult work as the ground was hard.

His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:

Dear Vincent,

I am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won't be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days.

Love, Papa

A few days later he received this letter from his son:

Dear Pop,

Don't dig up that garden. That's where the bodies are buried.

Love, Vinnie

At 6 am the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left. That same day the old man received another letter from his son.

Dear Pop,

Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the circumstances.

Love, Vinnie

[maca_10]

nice joke SD, made me laugh

[Foss]

In response to the previous post....

Um, I've seen my fair share of lame a** jokes, and well... I'm lost for words on that one.

The funniest part was that he's still a virgin at 22.

[Morequick]

The funniest part was that he's still a virgin at 22.

;)

[Foss]

The only way to pull off a Sunday afternoon 'quickie' with their 8-year old son in the apartment was to send him out on the balcony with a Mars Bar and tell him to report on all the Street activities.

He began his commentary as his parents put their plan into operation:

'There's a car being towed from the parking lot,' he shouted.

'An ambulance just drove by!'

'Looks like the Anderson's have company,' he called out.

'Matt's riding a new bike!'

'Looks like the Sanders are moving!'

'Jason is on his skate board!

After a few moments he announced, 'The Coopers are shagging!'

Startled, his mother and dad shot up in bed!

Dad cautiously called out, 'How do you know they're shagging?'

'Jimmy Cooper is standing on his balcony with a Mars Bar.'

[Foss]

What do you do if a bird sh!ts on your car?

Never take her out again!

[SuperDave]

There are two statues in a park; One of a nude man and one of a nude woman.

They had been facing each other across a pathway for a hundred years, when one day an angel comes down from the sky and, with a single gesture, brings the two to life.

The angel tells them, 'As a reward for being so patient through a hundred blazing summers and dismal winters, you have been given life for thirty minutes to do what you've wished to do the most.'

He looks at her, she looks at him, and they go running behind the Shrubbery. The angel waits patiently as the bushes rustle and giggling ensues. After fifteen minutes, the two return, out of breath and laughing.

The angel tells them, 'Um, you have fifteen teen minutes left, would you care to do it again?' He asks her 'Shall we?'

She eagerly replies, 'Oh, yes, let's! But let's change positions. This Time, I 'll hold the pigeon down and you **** on its head.'

[Noodle Boy]

a caterpillar and a turtle have run out of beer. the turtle offers to go out and get some more, but the caterpillar says that the turtle will take ages, therefore he offers to go instead. the turtle let the caterpillar to go to get some more beer. after a few hours not seeing the caterpillar come home, the turtle decides to search for him. he opens his front door to see that the caterpillar was still putting on his socks and shoes.

[Foss]

This ones an oldie, but I feel its appropriate for the day.

A bloke walks into a bar with a crocodile and asks the barman "do you serve Collingwood supporters?"

"Yes, of course. We serve anybody!" replies the barman.

"Well," says the fella "I'll have a VB, and a Collingwood supporter for the croc."

[STYLSH]

Found this funny explaination of marketing.

Several women have asked for an explanation of Marketing.

Perhaps the following analogies will help clear up the meanings of terms.

You go to a party and you see an attractive female across the room.

You walk up to her and say "Hi, I'm great in bed."

This is an example of direct marketing.

You go to a party and you see an attractive female across the room. You give your mate 10 quid to approach the attractive female and comment "Hi, my friend over there (pointing to you) is great in bed."

This is an example of advertising.

You go to a party and you see an attractive female across the room. You give two of your female friends ten quid each to stand within earshot of her and talk about how great you are in bed.

This is an example of PR.

You see a handsome guy at a party. You go up to him and get

his telephone number. The next day you call and say, "Hi, I'm

fantastic in bed."

That's Telemarketing.

You go to a party and you see an attractive female across the room.

She immediately walks over and says, "Hi, I hear you're great in bed."

This is an example of branding.

You go to a party and you see an attractive female across the room. You pay a complete stranger 500 quid to go and ask her what she likes in bed, then come back and tell you.

This is an example of qualitative research

You're at a party and see a handsome guy. You get up and straighten your dress. You walk up to him and pour him a drink. You say, "May I," and reach up to straighten his tie brushing your breast lightly against his arm, and then say, "By the way, I'm fantastic in bed."

That's Public Relations.

You're at a party and see a handsome guy. You talk him into going home with your friend.

That's a Sales Rep.

Your friend can't satisfy him so she calls you.

That's Tech Support.

You're on your way to a party when you realize that there could be handsome men in all these houses you're passing. So you climb onto the roof of one situated toward the center and shout at the top of your lungs, "I'm fantastic in bed!"

That's Spam.

[Noodle Boy]

wtf?!funny. however, if it was in real life, i doubt someone would have the balls to make that sort of approach to a complete stranger.

[Noodle Boy]

here's one guys:

It was about 2 in the morning. a bloke somehow knows one of the librarians' home phone number and rings him.

"sorry to wake you up, mate. can i ask when the library opens?"

wearily, the librarian replies,"uhh...9am.Why,is there a problem?"

"Damn!There's a big problem!"the bloke says.

"what, do you need to go there and get something?"the librarian asks.

"No!i want to get out!"

[STYLSH]

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

was nicely made, and that everything was picked up and tidy.

Then, he saw an envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow. 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 to you. I had to

elope with my new girlfriend, because I wanted to avoid a scene with

Mum and you.

I've been finding real passion with Stacy, and she is so nice, but I

knew you would not approve of her, because of all her piercings',

tattoos, her tight Motorcycle clothes, and because she is so much

older than I am.

But it's not only the passion, Dad. She's pregnant.

Stacy said that we will be very happy. She owns a trailer in the woods, and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children.

Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't, really

hurt anyone. We'll be growing it for ourselves, and trading it with

the other people in the commune, for all the cocaine and

ecstasy we want.

In the meantime, we'll pray that science will find a cure for AIDS, so

Stacy can get better. She sure deserves it!

Don't worry Dad, I'm 15, 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 many grandchildren.

Love, your son, Joshua.

P.S. Dad, none of the above is true. I'm over at Jason's house.

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

life than the School report that's on the kitchen table.

[SuperDave]

The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats, and have therefore raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved". Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross". The English have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940, when tea supplies nearly ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to "A Bloody Nuisance". The last time the British issued a "Bloody Nuisance" warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada.

The Scots have raised their threat level from "****** Off" to "Let's get the Bastards". They don't have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years.

The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide". The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender". The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability.

Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing". Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides".

The Germans have increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs". They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbor" and "Lose".

Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual; the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels.

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.

Americans meanwhile, and as usual, are carrying out pre-emptive strikes on all of their allies "just in case".

Canada doesn't have any alert levels.

New Zealand has raised its security levels - from "baaa" to "BAAAA". Due to continuing defense cutbacks, New Zealand has only one more level of escalation, which is "I hope Australia will come and rescue us".

Australia, meanwhile, has raised its security level from "No worries" to "She'll be alright, mate". Three more escalation levels remain

(1) "Crikey!",

(2) "I think we'll need to cancel the barbie this weekend" and

(3)"The barbie is cancelled".

So far no situation has ever warranted use of the final escalation level.

[DJKOR]

In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his wisdom.

One day an acquaintance ran up to him excitedly and said, "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about Diogenes?"

"Wait a moment," Socrates replied, "Before you tell me I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test."

'Triple filter?" asked the acquaintance.

"That's right," Socrates continued, "Before you talk to me about Diogenes let's take a moment to filter what you're going to say.

The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"

"No," the man said, "Actually I just heard about it."

"All right," said Socrates, "So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second filter, the filter of Goodness.

Is what you are about to tell me about Diogenes something good?"

"No, on the contrary..."

"So," Socrates continued, "You want to tell me something about Diogenes that may be bad, even though you're not certain it's true?"

The man shrugged, a little embarrassed. Socrates continued, "You may still pass the test though, because there is a third filter, the filter of Usefulness.

Is what you want to tell me about Diogenes going to be useful to me?"

"No, not really."

"Well," concluded Socrates, "If what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even useful, why tell it to me or anyone at all?"

The man was bewildered and ashamed. This is an example of why Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem.

It also explains why Socrates never found out that Diogenes was shagging his wife.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As good as this bar is," said the Scotsman, "I still prefer the pubs back home. In Glasgow, there's a wee place called McTavish's. The landlord goes out of his way for the locals. When you buy four drinks, he'll buy the fifth drink."

"Well, Angus," said the Englishman, "at my local in London, the Red Lion, the barman will buy you your third drink after you buy the first two."

"Ahhh, dat's nothin'," said the Irishman, "back home in my favourite pub, the moment you set foot in the place, they'll buy you a drink, then another, all the drinks you like, actually. Then, when you've had enough drinks, they'll take you upstairs and see dat you gets laid, all on the house!"

The Englishman and Scotsman were suspicious of the claims. The Irishman swore every word was true. "Did this actually happen to you?"

"Not meself, personally, no," admitted the Irishman, "but it did happen to me sister quite a few times."

[YinG]

what did the frog/s say to the librarian?

what did the mother chicken say to her child while in the library?

and finally.. ''what has four legs, than two legs and ends up with three legs?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

answers:

A: Read It Read It Read It

B: Book Book Book Book

C: a baby. a human. an elder citizen person with a walking stick

Edited December 13, 2010 by YinG

[Odin]

Here's a blonde joke (because they are always so lame they're funny :D)

Three girls go into a hippy store, a blonde, a red head and a brunette. While browsing, one of them spots a funny looking disk with glyphs carved on the surface. She picks it up and asks the shop assistant -

"Hey, what's this?"

The assistant says "It's an ancient form of lie detecting. If you tell the truth while holding it, nothing will happen. If you lie, well... you'll vanish."

Intrigued, the three girls gather around it. The brunette decides to try it first, holding it in both hands she says "I think I'm the prettiest girl in school."

Nothing happens... so she passes it to the red head. She holds it in front of her and says "I think I'm the smartest girl in school." Again, nothing happens.

The blonde eagerly grabs the disk and says "I think-*POOF!*" and she vanishes.

[Foss]

Tim and Janice met on a singles cruise and Tim fell head over heels for her.

When they discovered they lived in neighboring cities only a few miles apart Tim was ecstatic. He immediately started asking her out when they got home.

Within a couple of weeks, Tim had taken Janice to dance clubs, restaurants, concerts, movies, and museums. Tim became convinced that Janice was indeed his soul mate and true love. Every date seemed better than the last.

On the one-month anniversary of their first dinner on the cruise ship, Tim took Janice to a fine restaurant. While having cocktails and waiting for their salad, Tim said, "I guess you can tell I'm very much in love with you. I'd like a little serious talk before our relationship continues to the next stage. So, before I get a box out of my jacket and ask you a life changing question, it's only fair to warn you, I'm a total golf nut. I play golf, I read about golf, I watch golf on TV. In short, I eat, sleep, and breathe golf. If that's going to be a problem for us, you'd better say so now!"

Janice took a deep breath and responded, "Tim, that certainly won't be a problem. I love you as you are and I love golf too; but, since we're being totally honest with each other, you need to know that for the last five years I've been a hooker."

"Oh wow! I see," Tim replied. He looked down at the table, was quiet for a moment. Deep in serious thought he added, "You know, it's probably because you're not keeping your wrists straight when you hit the ball."

[RedSportivo]

In response to the previous post....

Um, I've seen my fair share of lame a** jokes, and well... I'm lost for words on that one.

It's not even lame enough to be funny. It's just, lame...

Cant call it lame either Ultra lame or EPIC Fail times 10..

[Defyant]

Guy walks into a bar with a steering wheel down his pants!

Bartender says "dude you got a stearing wheel in your pants!"

Guy says "yer it's driving me nuts!"

[wanga]

Guy walks into a bar with a steering wheel down his pants!

Bartender says "dude you got a stearing wheel in your pants!"

Guy says "yer it's driving me nuts!"

i dunno why but i just cracked up reading that one