FALSE START!
RUBBIN' THE OL' LAMP!
TEACHER! TEACHER!
YA GOTTA LOVE BLONDES!
The redhead reaches out and touches it with her fingers, smells it, and says “It smells like semen.”
Judi, the blonde, reaches out and touches it with her fingers and then puts her fingers in her mouth and tastes it and says “It doesn't taste like anyone in this building...”
SLOOTS GONNA SLOOT!
Her mom calmly said, “That part where the hair has grown is called Monkey, be proud that your monkey has grown hair.” …. the girl smiled.
At dinner, she told her sister, “My monkey has grown hair.”
Her older sister smiled and said, “That’s nothing, mine is already eating bananas.”
SIGN LANGUAGE!
He pointed to his eye meaning “I”, pointed to his knee meaning “need”, then moved his hand back and forth in a hand saw motion. The man on the ground floor nods his head, pulls down his pants, whips out his chop and starts masturbating.
The worker on 5th floor gets so pissed off he runs down to the ground floor and says, “What the f–k is your problem!!! I said I needed a hand saw!”.
The other guy says, “I knew that! I was just trying to tell you – I’m coming!”
FIRE THE BISH!
Dave looked at Mr. Smith and said, “Barbara is my best worker, but Jack has a wife and three kids. I don’t know whom to fire.”
The next morning Dave waited for his employees to arrive.
Barbara was the first to come in, so Dave said, “Barbara, I’ve got a problem. You see, I’ve got to either lay you or Jack off and I don’t know what to do?”
Barbara replied, “You’d better jack off. I’ve got a headache.”
TELLING TITTY JOKES TO MY MOM!
Many, many years ago I was at dinner at my Dad's ranch, I asked my Pops, "Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there?"
My Dad paused for a moment, and said, "Well son, there are many answers to this question, but I recall what your Granddad once told me: In her 20's a woman's boobies are like melons, round and firm. In her 30's to 40's, they are like pears, still nice, but hanging a bit. After 50 they are like onions..."
"Onions?" I asked quizzically
"Yes, you see them, and they make you cry." he said with a laugh.
When I came back home, I impishly repeated this to my mother, to see what sort of reaction I could elicit.
She didn't bat an eye.
"Did he tell you about the three stages of your willie, so you know what to look forward to?"
"Um no..." I said, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation I had imprudently started.
"Well my dear, a man goes through three phases. In his youth, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his mid thirties, it is like a birch, flexible, but reliable. After his 50s it is like a Christmas Tree..."
"Christmas Tree?" I asked curious, yet dreading the answer.
"Yes, the root is dead, and the balls are just for decoration."
And that is when I learned at a young age, not to try and prank my mom.
I HOPE YOU HAD FUN...
...BUT THAT'S ALL FOLKS
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