Post your jokes here

WORLD WAR III IN THE PLANNING STAGES

President Bush and VP Cheney are sitting in a bar. A guy walks in and
Asks the barman, 'Isn't that Bush and Cheney sitting over there?'

The bartender says, 'Yep, that's them.'

So the guy walks over and says, 'Wow, this is a real honor! What are? You guys doing in here?'

Bush says, 'We're planning World War III.'
The guy says, 'Really? What's going to happen?'

Bush says, 'Well, we're going to kill 140 million Muslim Extremists and one blond with big t-i-t-s.'

The guy exclaimed, 'A Blond with big t-i-t-s??
Why kill a blond with big t-i-t-s?'?

Bush turns to Cheney and says, "See, I told you, no one gives a shit about the 140 million Muslim Extremists."

Stop the wedding!!!! :shock:

John O'Reilly hoisted his beer and said, 'Here's to spending the rest of me life!, between the legs of me wife!'

That won him the top prize at the pub for the best toast of the night!

He went home and told his wife, Mary, 'I won the prize for the Best toast of the night'

She said, 'Aye, did ye now. And what was your toast?'

John said, 'Here's to spending the rest of me life, sitting in church beside me wife.'

'Oh, that is very nice indeed, John!' Mary said.

The next day, Mary ran into one of John's drinking buddies on the street corner.

The man chuckled leeringly and said, 'John won the prize the other night at the pub with a toast about you, Mary.'

She said, 'Aye, he told me, and I was a bit surprised myself. You know, he's only been there twice in the last four years.

Once he fell asleep, and the other time I had to pull him by the ears to make him come.'

An Army grunt stands in the rain with a 35-pound pack on his back, 15-lb. weapon in his hand, having marched 12 miles, and says, "This is shit."

An Army Airborne Ranger stands in the rain with a 45-pound pack on his back, weapon in hand, after having jumped from a plane and jogged 18 miles, says with a smile, "This is good shit."

A Navy Seal lies in the mud, 55-pound pack on his back, weapon in hand, after swimming 10 miles to shore, crawling through a swamp, and running 25 miles at night past enemy positions, says with a grin, "This is really great shit."

A Marine Force Recon, up to his nose in the stinking, bug-infested mud of a swamp with a 65-pound pack on his back and weapons in both hands after jumping from an aircraft at high altitude into the ocean, swimming 12 miles to shore, killing several alligators
to enter the swamp, then crawling 30 miles through the brush to assault an enemy camp, says, "I love this shit."

An Air Force NCO sits in an easy chair in an air-conditioned, carpeted office in front of his computer and says, "My e-mail is out? What kind of shit is this?"

I LOVE MY JOB

This is even funnier when you realize it's real!

Next time you have a bad day at work think of this guy.

Rob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in Louisiana

He performs underwater repairs on offshore drilling rigs.

Below is an E-mail he sent to his sister. She then sent it to radio station 103.2 on FM dial in Ft. Wayne , Indiana , who was sponsoring a worst job experience contest. Needless to say, she won.

• Hi Sue,
  
  Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother.
  
  Last week I had a bad day at the office. I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all.
  
  Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job.
  
  As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wet suit. This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is this: We have adiesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose. Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit. This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi.
  
  Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my b u t t started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it.
  
  This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened. The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it. However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate.
  
  When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt.
  
  I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say I aborted the dive. I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression.
  
  When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet.
  
  As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber.
  
  The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my butt was swollen shut. So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your butt..
  
  Repeat to yourself, 'I love my job, I love my job.'
  
  Now whenever you have a bad day, ask yourself is this a jellyfish day?

Only click here if you hate telemarketers :snicker: :devil:

Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community.

The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71. Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours.

Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded.

Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.

The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

A man is walking home alone late one foggy Halloween night, when behind him he hears:


BUMP...



BUMP...



BUMP...




Walking faster, he looks back and through the fog he makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street toward him.



BUMP...




BUMP...




BUMP...





Terrified, the man begins to run toward his home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.




FASTER...



FASTER...




BUMP...




BUMP...




BUMP....



He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, rushes in, slams and locks the door behind him. However, the casket crashes through his door, with the lid of the casket clapping.


clappity-BUMP...



clappity-BUMP...


clappity-BUMP...


on his heels, as the terrified man runs.



Rushing upstairs to the bathroom, he locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.



With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door.









Bumping and clapping toward him.





The man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup! Desperate, he throws the cough syrup at the casket...


and,





(hopefully you're ready for this!!!)






The coffin stops