Showing posts with label jokes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jokes. Show all posts

Monday, December 26, 2022

THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

 A Modern Day Love Story (complete with colorful expletives and emojis, of course)



December 26th

I went to the door today and the postman had delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a thoroughly delightful gift. I couldn't have been more surprised.

With deepest love and devotion,

Agnes💓


December 27th

Dearest John,

Today the postman brought your sweet gift. Just imagine ......... two turtle doves! I'm just delighted at your thoughtfulness. They are just adorable.

All my love,

Agnes💓


December 28th

Dearest John,

Oh, aren't you the extravagant one? Now I really must protest. I don't deserve such generosity ..........THREE French Hens!!! They are just darling, but I must insist, you've been too kind.

Love,

Agnes💓


December 29th

Dear John,

Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really, they are beautiful but don't you think enough is enough? You are being TOO romantic.

Affectionately,

Agnes💋


December 30th

Dearest John,

What a surprise! Today the postman delivered five golden rings... one for every finger. You are just impossible, but I love it. Frankly all those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves.

All my love,

Agnes💋


December 31st

Dear John,

What goes on? When I opened the door today there were actually six geese-a- layin' on my front steps, so your back to the birds again, huh? Those geese are HUGE. Where will I even keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. Please stop.

Cordially,

Agnes✋


January 1st

John,

What's with you and these fucking birds? Seven Swans-a-swimming. What kind of damn joke is that? There's bird shit all over the house and they never stop with the racket. I can't sleep at night and I'm a nervous wreck. It's not funny, so STOP...OKAY?

Sincerely,

Agnes✋


January 2nd

OKAY, Buster,

I think I prefer the birds...what the hell am I going to do with eight maids-a-milking? It's not enough with all those birds and eight maids-a-milking, but they had to bring their damn cows. There's shit all over the lawn and I can't move in my own house. Just lay off, Smartass!!!

Agnes💪


January 3rd

Listen Shithead,

What are you, some kind of idiot? Now there's nine pipers playing, and Christ do they play! They've never stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are getting upset, and they're stomping all over those screeching birds. What am I going to do? The neighbors are starting a petition to evict me.

You'll get yours,

Agnes😠


January 4th

You Dirty Prick!!!

Now there's ten ladies dancing. I don't know why I call these sluts "ladies". They've been balling those pipers all night long. Now the cows can't sleep and furthermore, they have diarrhea. My living room is a river of shit. The City Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to show cause why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm calling the cops on you..........I mean it!!!🖕


January 5th

You DIRTY, ROTTEN, BASTARD!!!

What's with the eleven Lords-a-Leaping on those maids and ladies? Some of those broads will never walk again. Those pipers ran through all the maids, and have been committing sodomy with the cows. All twenty-three of the birds are dead...they were trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you're satisfied, you stupid fucking moron.

Your ETERNAL ENEMY,

Agnes🖕


January 6th

This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve drummers drumming, which you have seen fit to inflict upon our client, Miss Agnes Crawford. The destruction of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you attempt to reach Miss Crawford at the sanitarium, the attendants have instructions to shoot you on sight. With this letter, please find attached a warrant for your arrest.🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Sunday, November 06, 2022

MY DOCTOR'S BEDSIDE MANNER

I was at one of my doctors yesterday for a follow-up (the list seems to be growing longer each day) when my doctor felt the need to tell me an off color joke. He asked me what were the 3 words a woman hates to hear during sex. As he's asking me this I'm thinking, "WTF! Why is he telling me a joke?" I shrugged my shoulders as an indicator to show him I'm pretty clueless. I barely even remember the last time I had sex let alone what I might have hated to hear in the throes of passion. Enlighten me, doctor...PLEASE! QUICKLY! The suspense was killing me! When he said, "Honey, I'm home!" followed by telling me he works til 10 some nights and rarely sees his wife, I really thought WTF. I left his office wondering if I had just been hit on or if it was just his style to break the ice in this peculiar manner. Next time I see him, I'll ask him if he knows why women have such problems with depth perception. When he looks as puzzled as I must have looked, I'll smile sweetly as I tell him, "It's because they've always been told this much |____________________________| is 6 inches!" And for all those who might be wondering....no, he isn't my gynecologist! Believe it or not, he was my pain management doctor and after today I started looking for a new doctor to treat that part of my health care.

*repost from January 6, 2012

Monday, November 11, 2019

The Definition of Confusion (Thank You, Mother)

Reposted from 3/15/2010 edited:

When my children were still quite young and in school, they used to visit their grandparents on school holidays. I would drive halfway to Pensacola to meet my mother and place my children in her care. The first few days always felt like utter bliss and then the house gradually became a mausoleum. By the time I would pick up my children, I was more than ready to have them come home again. I welcomed that deafening chaos and unruly banter that came with three children.

My mother was always rather rigid while I was growing up and had a very democratic way of handling punishment. If the guilty party didn't confess the first time when my brothers and I were asked who did something, we all suffered the consequences. As I grew older and eventually became a parent myself, the woman who raised me seemed to change. She got soft in her old age! Had I broken her spirit? Possibly! But each time my children would rave on about the fun-loving person who they perceived their grandmother to be, I knew it wasn't the same person who raised me. My mother was proof that aliens do exist! They has abducted my mother and left in her place a female Captain Kangaroo or would it date me too much if I said Shari Lewis and Lambchop? Ask anyone from my old neighborhood! They knew my mother was a force to be reckoned with. Her voice alone could raise the dead. 

Each time my children would go for a visit, it took weeks before I could straighten them out. My mother waited on them hand and foot and made them do NOTHING but fun things while they visited her. When they came home sassy and quite lazy, I would want to pull my hair out. One time while driving home, my children seemed quite mesmerized by a joke book one of them had gotten while in Pensacola. One of their visiting rituals was for her to take them (her angelic grandchildren) to Hawsey's, a used bookstore and let them each purchase a large paper bag full of books to read. All three of my children loved to read so going to Hawsey's was always a fun thing to do.

Since they were quiet on our trip home and this was an oddity for them, I tried to engage them in conversation only to be told they were busy reading jokes. That explained the occasional chuckle I heard from the backseat. I asked them to read me aloud some of the jokes. My youngest child, Matthew spoke up and said he would read one. Although he was only 7 at the time, his reading skills were quite advanced for someone his age. As Matthew read, I almost drove off the road.

Whats' the definition of "confusion"?
Twenty blind lesbians in a fish market!


WTF? Now, with glee they started reading more jokes from the book as fast as they could until I could gather my thoughts and ask them where they got the book. In unison they told me...HAWSEY'S! And of course I asked if  their grandmother let them buy that book? Well, I was told she never screened the books that they bought, so the book titled Truly Tasteless Jokes was easily purchased by my son, Daniel (age 9).

Then they all went on to start reciting the dirty little ditties my mother had taught them. It was then I knew she had truly lost her mind or maybe the rules that apply to being a parent were different from those that apply to being a grandparent. It definitely was a gotcha moment lovingly given to me by my mother. To this day, my mother just smiles innocently when this story is told. What I want to know is why she never taught my brothers and me these ditties when we were kids or why my grandmother never taught them to us? Geez! I feel cheated! 

An example of one of the my mother's ditties:

A flock of birds
Chocked full of turds
Flew over my father's castle
They stretched their necks
And shit a peck
Then closed up their assholes.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful I don't live in a castle near a fish market.

Saturday, August 02, 2014

THE PTA AND THE INCREDIBLE HULK

When my children were in elementary school they attended school in Port St. Joe, a small village along the Redneck Riviera.  I have mixed feelings about my years there largely due to the way in which a single mother was too often viewed and treated.  If I hadn't been a strong woman I believe on many occasions I would have either been destroyed or defined by a particular event, yet I somehow always let those times strengthen me and broaden my horizons.  My children seemed to follow suit and learned at a young age how to use their heads.  I have to admit they always seemed to amaze me every step of the way and never disappointed me in how they always managed to shine even when shining wasn't what they should have done.

My youngest child, Matthew was a quite precocious.  He was always up for a good challenge so when he announced to me one day that he wanted to be in a PTA sponsored talent contest, it didn't surprise me.  My only question was what he was going to do for talent.  You see, although I have always thought my children were the brightest amongst all the stars, the Jackson 5 they were not.  Matthew simply told me he was going to be a comedian and that was the last I heard about it for several weeks.

Then one day Christina, his only sister and the oldest of my three children came rushing into the house as soon as she got off the school bus.  There in the doorway she stopped with her hands firmly planted on her hips.  She looked at me and said, "You aren't going to believe what your son did today!"  Uh oh!  There wasn't any "my brother" or "Matthew" about it...at that moment he was my son and only my son so I knew he had done something pretty outstanding and probably something memorable.  She started telling me about the semi-finals for the talent contest that had been held earlier that afternoon in the school auditorium.  A panel of four teachers were appointed to select the best of the best who would compete in front of the families later that night.  All the fifth graders thought it was great because they were excused from class so they could watch the selection process.

When it came Matthew's turn, he sheepishly meandered up on stage.  Christina's friends all pointed out, "Hey, there's your little brother!"  Matthew took center stage and began his stand up comedy routine with the following joke:  What has a hundred teeth and guards the incredible hulk?  His punch line was "my zipper".  Immediately, the auditorium filled with laughter!  Now, it wasn't that he had told an inappropriate joke that embarrassed his sister.  It was the fact that all four of the teachers laughed at his joke.  With her hands still firmly planted on her hips she said with utter disgust, "And they laughed!"  Needless to say Matthew was not selected to perform in front of the families although I have to admit the night would have been more memorable if he had performed.

About that time Matthew came in the house.  Please tell me how does a mother explain to a 5 year old white version of Eddie Murphy what's appropriate and what's inappropriate?  How does one rip away the joy he must have felt from accomplishing what all comedians live to do?  After all he had accomplished his goal.  He got the audience to laugh!  All I asked him as he came in the house was if he had anything he wanted to tell me.  He stopped momentarily and thought for a second before getting a quizzical look on his face and simply told me,"No."  I left it at that and figured I'd address his choice and source of jokes another time. 

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

BITCHFEST- PART I

Remember the good old days of telling a joke to a group of friends? And if that joke was funny, you had the privilege of hearing people's laughter. Now, each time I check my email, my inbox is stuffed full of a few things..spam and jokes from the same few people. Okay, spam is something I guess I can remedy fairly easy, but the other is something I really don't understand and find it unnecessary and quite annoying. I would much rather have someone write a few lines ocassionally asking me how I'm doing than to have this daily barrage of jokes I never even open.

If a person feels the overwhelming urge to forward jokes to everyone in their address book, why do they do it by just hitting the FORWARD option? I, for one don't want the whole world to know my email address. The BLIND CARBON COPY (BCC) option seems to be one of the most underused email features there is. Why isn't the rule of thumb for any joke being passed around the internet that if you wouldn't tell the joke out loud to a group of people then it isn't worth passing along in an email? "LOL" just isn't the same thing as actual laughter. Some things just don't have a suitable substitute like manners, good judgment and laughter just to name a few.

Don't get me wrong! I’m all for passing along a FUNNY joke, but most of the jokes I've had the misfortune to open and read only makes me wonder if the sender ever reads what they send before they forward it to their entire contact list. A little screening beforehand might make the recipients of stupid jokes stop wondering what kind of drugs a person would have to take in order to make these jokes appear to be funny. Come on people! Think about those several jokes you forward to everyone daily and then multiply that by 4 or 5 well-meaning friends and acquaintances who obviously have alot time on their hands.

If I read everything that was sent to me each day and passed it on like instructed so I'll have some stroke of good fortune within the next few minutes, show my loyalty as a friend by sending it back to the sender and to show my patriotism or support to some organization by keeping the chain alive, I'd have to give up the few hours I sleep each night. Perhaps there lies my problem...if I spent more time keeping the chains and jokes going instead of trashing them, I'd be a millionaire now. I’d have friends who know I love them and there would be no question as to where my allegiance lies!!!

It sounds ridiculous when I put it like that, doesn't it? I just find it incredible that people actually pass that crap around without ever thinking about what they're doing. Maybe I'm missing some hidden point and if so, I wish someone would explain it to me because I really don't understand why any intelligent person would forward something like that to all their friends when most people find it to be such an annoying practice. Is this just another one of those delicate subjects that people find difficult to discuss with their friends?

You know, like the person who has bad breath or smelly feet and you back up every time they get close to you. You can't believe the person doesn't realize how offensive the odor is and wonder how they can be so blissfully ignorant to something like that. How do you enlighten a person without hurting their feelings? Many times I’ve sent an email to the guilty parties saying things like "I really appreciate being included in the list of people you forward jokes to on a regular basis, but I'd really prefer just to hear how you're doing every now and then instead." Obviously, my email must have been deleted as spam and never opened because the jokes just keep on coming and coming and coming... For good fortune send this to 5 friends in the next 5 minutes!!!

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for my sense of humor because it allows me to know when something is funny or when it's just annoying and not worth a chuckle or two.