Afternoon Humor!

[SuperScout]

A West Texas cowboy walked into a drug store in Marfa, Texas, and asked to talk to a male pharmacist. The woman he was talking to said that she was the pharmacist, and since she and her sister owned the store, there were no males employed there.

She then asked the cowboy if she could help him. He said, "I'd feel much more comfortable discussing my situation with a male pharmacist."

The female pharmacist assured him that she was completely professional, and whatever it was that he needed to discuss, he could be confident that she would treat him with the highest level of professionalism.

The young bronc-buster agreed, and began by saying, "This is tough to discuss, but I have a permanent erection. It causes me a lot of problems and severe embarrassment, and I was wondering what you could give me for it."

The pharmacist replied, "Just a minute, I'll go talk to my sister."

When she returned, she said, "We discussed it at length, and the absolute best deal we can do is 1/3 ownership in the store, a company pick-up truck, and $3,000 a month living expenses."

[sn-e3]

A Taser Story



To give you some background information, Rex, the author of this email, is in his mid 40's about 6'4 and 220 lbs and contrary to this story, he is quite an intelligent person.



Dear Friends, My wife is fond of saying that my last words on this earth will be something akin to "Well, I have out done myself once again." No doubt you will see this true story chronicled in a Life Time movie in the near future. Here goes.



Last weekend I spied something at the Pawn shop that tickled my fancy. (Note: Keep in mind that my "fancy" is easily tickled.) I bought something really cool for my wife. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my sweet girl. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer gun with a clip. For those of you who are not familiar with this product, it is a less-than-lethal stun gun with two metal prongs designed to incapacitate an assailant with a shock of high-voltage, low amperage electricity while you flee to safety. The effects are supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, but allowing you adequate time to retreat to safety. You simply jab the prongs into your 250 lb tattooed assailant, push the button, and it will render him a slobbering, goggle-eyed, muscle-twitching, whimpering, pencil-neck geek. If you've never seen one of these things in action, then you're truly missing out - way too cool!



Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was so disappointed. Upon reading the directions (we don't need no stinkin' directions), I found much to my chagrin that this particular model would not create an arch between the prongs. How disappointing! I do love fire for effect. I learned that if I pushed the button, however, and pressed it against a metal surface that I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs that I was so looking forward to. I did so. Awesome!!! Sparks, a blue arch of electricity, and a loud pop!!! Yipeeeeee. I'm easily amused, just for your information, but I have yet to explain to her what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.



Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, etc., etc. There I sat in my recliner, my dog looking on intently (trusting little soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not the dog) and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood target. I must admit I thought about zapping the dog for a fraction of a second and thought better of it. She is such a sweet pup, after all. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? Was I wrong to think that? Seemed reasonable to me at the time.



So there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, Tazer in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. All the while I'm looking at this little device (measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference, pretty cute really, and loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries) thinking to myself, "no friggin' way!" Friggin' way - trust me, but I'm getting ahead of myself. What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best. Those of you who know me well have got a pretty good idea of what followed. I'm sitting there alone, the dog looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it buddy," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny lil' ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. (Sound, rational thinking under the circumstances, wouldn't you agree?) I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the hell of it. (Note: You know, a bad decision is like hindsight-always twenty-twenty. It is so obvious that it was a bad decision after the fact, even though it seemed so right at the time. Don't ya hate that?) I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY *********!!!! I'm pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in through the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, then body slammed me on the carpet over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position. The dog was standing over me making sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "do it again, do it again!" (Note: If you ever feel compelled to mug yourself with a Tazer, one note of caution. There is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You're not going to let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. Then, if you're lucky, you won't dislodge one of the prongs 1/4" deep in your thigh like yours truly.) SON-OF-A-***** that hurt! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at this point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both titties were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, as my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. give or take an ounce or two, I'm pretty sure.



By the way, has anyone seen my testicles? I think they ran away. I'm offering a reward. They're round, rather large. Miss 'em ..... sure would like to get 'em back .



The End

[Jerry D]

On the Washington State Jeff Foxworthy jokes "yep they are true" seen them myself for twelve years and like the Bumper Sticker states "Washingtonians don't Tan they RUST"

and loved the W.TX cowboy story too

[Advisor]

Subject: U.S. Navy Directive 16134


The following directive was issued by the commanding officer of a naval installation somewhere in the Middle East, and it was obviously directed at the Marines.


To: All Commands


Subject: Inappropriate T-Shirts


Ref: ComMidEastFor Inst 16134//24 K


1. All commanders promulgate upon receipt.


2. The following T-shirts are no longer to be worn on or off base by any military or civilian personnel serving in the Middle East:


"Eat Pork Or Die" [both English and Arabic versions
"Shrine Busters" [Various. Show burning minarets or bomb/artillery shells impacting Islamic shrines. Some with unit logos.]
"Napalm, Sticks Like Crazy" [Both English and Arabic versions]
"Goat - it isn't just for breakfast any more". [Both English and Arabic versions]
"The Road to Paradise begins with me." [Mostly Arabic versions but some in English. Some show sniper scope cross-hairs]
"Guns don't kill people. I kill people". [Both Arabic and English versions]
"Pork. The other white meat". [Arabic version]
"Infidel" [English, Arabic and other coalition force languages.]


3. The above tee shirts will be removed from base exchanges upon receipt of this directive.


4.The following signs are to be removed upon receipt of this message:


"Islamic Religious Services Will Be Held at the Firing Range At 0800 Daily."


"Do we really need 'smart bombs' to drop on these dumb bastards?"


5. All commands are instructed to implement sensitivity training upon receipt.

[Keith_Hixson]

A curious fellow died one day and found himself waiting in the long line of judgment.

As he stood there, he noticed that some souls were allowed to march right through the Pearly Gates and into Heaven. Others though, were led over to Satan, who threw them into the burning pit. But every so often, instead of hurling a poor soul into the fire, Satan would toss a soul off to one side into a small pile.

After watching Satan do this several times, the fellow's curiosity got the best of him. So he strolled over and asked Satan what he was doing.

"Excuse me, Prince of Darkness," he said, "I'm waiting in line for judgment, but I couldn't help wondering, why are you tossing those people aside instead of flinging them into the Fires of Hell with the others?"

"Ah, those..." Satan said with a groan, "They're all from the Pacific Northwest... they're still too wet to burn."
___________

Mr. Swiller was known far and wide as a hard-nosed boss who
watched his employees like a hawk. He was making one of his
regular tours of the factory when he spotted a young man
leaning against a pile of boxes just outside the foreman's
office. Since George, the foreman, wasn't around, Swiller
stood off to the side and watched to see just how long the
young man would stand around doing nothing.

The young man yawned, scratched his head, looked at his
watch, and sat on the floor. He took out a nail file and
began cleaning his nails. Then he stretched, yawned again,
and leaned back on the pile of boxes.

Swiller stepped from his hiding place and walked up to the
young man. "You!" he boomed. "How much do you make a week?"

The young man looked up indifferently. "Two hundred and
fifty dollars," he said.

Swiller swooped into the cashier's office, took $250 from
the cash box, and returned. "Take it," he said, "and get
out! Don't let me see you around here again!"

The young man took the cash, put it in his pocket, and left.

Swiller snorted at his lack of remorse, embarrassment, or
any other feeling. Then he went looking for George. When he
found him, Swiller was red with anger. "That idler in front
of your office," Swiller said. "I just gave him a week's pay
and fired him. What's the matter with you, letting him stand
around as though he had nothing to do?"

"You mean the kid in the red shirt?" George asked.

"Yes! The kid in the red shirt!"

"He was waiting for the twenty dollars we owe him for
lunch," George said. "He works for the coffee shop around
the corner

Keith

[goodnessgracie]

Redneck special forces

The Pentagon announced today the formation of a new 500-man elite
fighting unit called the United States Redneck Special Forces. These
Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, Kentucky, Mississippi, Missouri, Oklahoma,
Tennessee and Texas boys will be dropped off into Iraq and have been
given only the following facts about terrorists.

1. The season opened today.

2. There is no limit.

3. They taste just like chicken.

4. They don't like beer, pickups, country music or Jesus.

5. They are DIRECTLY RESPONSIBLE for the death of Dale Earnhardt.

We expect the problem in Iraq to be over by Friday.

[Keith_Hixson]

You forgot Idaho and Montana. Except you tell them they taste just like elk.

Keith

[darrels joy]

How to speak about Women and be politically correct:

1. She is not a "Babe" or a "Chick" - She is a "Breasted American."

2. She is not a "Screamer" or a "Moaner" - She is "Vocally Appreciative."

3. She is not "Easy" - She is "Horizontally Accessible."

4. She is not a "Dumb Blonde" - She is a "Light-Haired Detour off the information superhighway."

5. She has not "Been Around" - She is a "Previously-Enjoyed Companion."

6. She is not an "Airhead" - She is "Reality Impaired."

7. She does not get "Drunk" or "Tipsy" - She gets "Chemically Inconvenienced."

8. She does not have "Breast Implants" - She is "Medically Enhanced."

9. She does not "Nag" you - She becomes "Verbally Repetitive."

10. She is not a "Tramp" - She is "Sexually Extroverted."

11. She does not have "Major League Hooters" - "She is "Pectorally Superior."

12. She is not a "Two-Bit Hooker" - She is a "Low Cost Provider."



How to speak about Men and be politically correct:

1. He does not have a "Beer Gut" - He has developed a "Liquid Grain Storage Facility."

2. He is not a "Bad Dancer" - He is "Overly Caucasian."

3. He does not "Get Lost All The Time" -- He "Investigates Alternative Destinations."

4. He is not "Balding" - He is in "Follicle Regression."

5. He is not a "Cradle Robber" - He prefers "Generational Differential Relationships."

6. He does not get "Falling Down Drunk" - He becomes "Accidentally Horizontal."

7. He does not act like a "Total Ass" - He develops a case of "Rectal-Cranial Inversion."

8. He is not a "Male Chauvinist Pig" - He has "Swine Empathy."

9. He is not afraid of "Commitment" - He is "Relationship Challenged."

10. It is not his "Crack" you see hanging out of his pants - It's "Rear Cleavage"

[revwardoc]

Why Sex Ed needs to be taught in Catholic schools:


Mother Superior called all the Nuns together one evening and said to them: "I must tell you all something. We have a case of Gonorrhea in the convent."

"Thank God," said one elderly Nun at the back.
"I'm so sick of Chardonnay."

[SuperScout]

A woman went to the doctor's office where she was seen by one of the younger doctors. After about four minutes in the examination room, she burst out, screaming as she ran down the hall. An older doctor stopped her and asked what the problem was and she told him her story.

After listening, he had her sit down and relax in another room. The older doctor marched down the hallway to the back where the young doctor was writing on his clipboard. "What's the matter with you?," the older doctor demanded. "Mrs. Reid is 62 years old, has four grown children and seven grandchildren and you told her she was pregnant?"

The younger doctor continued writing and without looking up said, "Does she still have the hiccups?"