JOKER: A person who is fond of joking.
A foolish or inept person.
Synonyms: jester
A statue outside a hotel on the Mississippi River - New Orleans Louisiana
Photo Hunters Month of July Themes
6th * Zany
13th * Dance
20th * Song
27th * Joker
CONNECTING TO:
_ _ _
WEEKEND FUNNIES
A man took his wife to the County Show and one of the exhibits is that of breeding bulls.
They went up to the first pen and there was a sign that said, "This bull mated 50 times last year." The wife poked her husband in the ribs and said, "He mated 50 times last year." They walked a little further and saw another pen with a sign that said, "This bull mated 120 times last year." The wife hit her husband and said, "That's more than twice a week! You could learn a lot from him." They walked further and a third pen had a bull with a sign saying, "This bull mated 365 times last year." The wife got really excited and said, That's once a day. You could REALLY learn something from this one." The husband looked at her and said, "Go up and ask him if it was with the same old cow."
*
Two priests were going to Hawaii on vacation and decided that they would make this a real vacation by not wearing anything that would identify them as clergy. As soon as the plane landed, they headed for a store and bought some really outrageous shorts and Aloha shirts, sandals, sunglasses, etc. The next morning, they went to the beach, dressed in their "tourist" garb and were sitting on beach chairs, enjoying MaiTais, the sunshine and the scenery when a drop dead gorgeous redhead in a tiny bikini came walking straight toward them. They couldn't help but stare and when she passed them she turned to them, smiled and said, "Good morning Father Murphy. Good Morning Father O'Toole," nodding and addressing each of them individually, then passed on by. They were both stunned. How in the world did she recognize them as priests? The next day they went back to the store, bought even more outrageous outfits. These outfits were so loud, you could hear them before you even saw them. Again, they settled on the beach in their chairs to enjoy the sunshine, etc. After a while, the same gorgeous redhead, wearing a string bikini this time, came walking toward them again. (They were glad they had sunglasses, because their eyes were about to pop out of their heads). Again, she approached them and greeted them individually, "Good Morning Father Murphy. Good Morning Father O'Toole," and started to walk away. One of the priests couldn't stand it and said, "Just a minute young lady. Yes we are priests, and proud of it, but I have to know, how in the world did YOU know?"
"Oh Father, don't you recognise me? I'm Sister Kathryn!"
*
Murphy buys his son two Goldfish, and tells him he must call the goldfish 1 and 2.
Puzzled, the boy asks why.
Murphy replies "If 1 dies you've still got 2"
*
Doctor Doctor what can you prescribe for MS and impotence?
Cannabis for MS relief, and Viagra for the impotence.
Any side effects from mixing those two?
Only a stiff joint now and then.
animated goldfish borrowed with permission from GLITTER GRAPHICS
When you have to visit a public “Restroom”, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it’s your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won’t latch. It doesn’t matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern ‘seat covers’ (invented by someone’s Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn’t – so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume ‘The Stance’. In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You’d love to sit down, but you certainly hadn’t taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold ‘The Stance”. To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother’s voice saying, ‘Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was not toilet paper!’ Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday – the one that’s till in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It’s till smaller than your thumbnail. Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn’t work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. ‘Occupied!’ you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it’s too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper – not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you’re certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, ‘You just don’t KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.’ By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your bottom and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At this point, you give up. You’re soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You’re exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can’t figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper off your shoe, plunk it in the woman’s hand and tell her warmly, ‘Here, you just might need this.’
