I’ve been blogging now for more than fourteen years, and I’ve tried to be as interesting as possible as I spread as much useless informationthat I could find to as many readers as possible. Initially I spent my first four years writing a political blog that was interesting, but all of the lame and badly written death threats from either side of the aisle convinced that I was wasting my time. Since the changeover to a more easy-going and friendly blog, blogging has returned to being fun. Now it’s time for another sidestep from my normal routine to an even friendlier and more fun format. “HUMOR”. It’s probably one of the few areas that almost everyone can enjoy whether it’s from jokes (both clean or dirty), limericks (both clean or dirty), humorous trivia, or any other means to help you grin, smile, laugh, and lighten your day. I’ll give it a go for the remainder of this year with the hope it will keep you coming back for more.
“Joke of the Day”
A farmer sent his 15-year-old son into town and, as a birthday present, handed him a duck. “See if you can get a girl in exchange for this,” he said. The lad met a prostitute along the way and said, “It’s my birthday and all I’ve got is this duck. Would you be willing to fuck? “Sure,” she said, “I’m sentimental about birthdays. And besides, I’ve never owned a duck.” Afterwards, she said, “Do you know for a 15-year-old boy, you’re quite a good lay. If you’d like to do it again, I’ll give you back your duck.” “Sure,” said the boy. When his pleasurable work was through, he left the village to return home. While he was crossing the main street in the village, the duck suddenly flew out of his hands and was hit by a passing beer truck. The driver of the truck felt so sorry for the boy and gave him two dollars. When he got home, his father asked, “How did you make out?” The son said, “I got a duck, a fuck, a duck for a fuck, and two dollars for a duck.”
In keeping with the new format here is the “Limerick of the Day” which should pay homage to a former lecherous President and his BFF:
Let’s start this post with a statement of obvious fact:
“Organic gardening is a lot of shit.”
Now we can move on to some humor for all of you card playing fanatics out there:
Mr. Jones had come home from a hard day of work and was appalled when his wife reminded him that they had arranged to visit a friend’s house for dinner and bridge. “I’m too tired to budge”, he protested. “It can’t be helped”, said Mrs. Jones, her eyes turning dangerous. So, Jones was forced to shower, change clothes, and drag himself off to the friend’s house. In the bridge game he was paired off with the hostess and then proceeded to play one lousy game after another, so that he and the hostess lost steadily. Finally, he got up and muttered, “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” He didn’t bother to close the door of the bathroom, and the sound of water trickling into water was clear and distinct. Mrs. Jones, totally embarrassed said, “Please excuse my husband. He’s had a very hard day.” The hostess then said, “No need for excuses. I don’t mind. This is the first moment since we started playing bridge tonight that I knew what he had in his hand.”
Since I love history, here is an interesting backstory I thought I’d share with you:
George IV of Great Britain hated his wife with growing intensity, and she returned it with interest. There were prolonged and rather disgusting divorce proceedings between them, and the entire British nation took an emotional part in it. When Napoleon died at St. Helena in 1821, the news was immediately brought to George IV’s attention. “Our greatest enemy is dead”, he was told. “Oh, is she?”, smiled George.
And of course, here is the expected and gratuitous limerick:
I met a lewd nude in Bermuda,
Who thought she was shrewd, but I was shrewder.
She thought it quite crude
To be wooed in the nude.
I was cruder, pursued her, and eventually screwed’er
I tend to look for publications containing limericks and I like them funny, silly, bawdy, and outright outrageous. Many of my readers constantly complain that my selections are too tame. They want lots of sexual content and even go so far as to complain about my selections of children’s limericks. I enjoy posting the more innocent lyrics from kids with the hope they will someday grow up and write some truly memorable and bawdy poetry. Someone has to assist the next generation in their endeavors, and I have gladly volunteered. Here are a few you can sample . . .
As the title suggests here are a few humorous stories and one gratuitous limerick. They’re all pearls of wisdom and I hope they help make you a little wiser. Here goes . . .
Once Yogi Berra, in his younger days, was in a batting slump. The manager felt this was because he was swinging at too many bad pitches. He therefore called Yogi to one side during a slow day in the schedule and gave him an intensive course in judging incoming baseball to determine whether they were outside the strike zone. Yogi’s batting promptly grew even worse, he said “It’s this judging of balls. I just can’t hit and think at the same time.”
And here’s a limerick for all of you aficionados:
To moralists, sex is a sin
Yet Nature suggests we begin.
She arranged it, no doubt,
That a fellow juts out
In the place where a damsel juts in.
🤣🤣🤣
A friend of mine was on a plane. It had achieved a high and steady flight and was set on autopilot. The pilot stretched, yawned, and said, “What I need now is a cup of coffee and a blow job. “What the pilot didn’t know was that the public address system was still on, and his words were heard throughout the plane. A stewardess hurriedly ran forward to the cockpit to tell the pilot to shut off the PA system before he committed any further indiscretions. As she ran by, an elderly female passenger yelled out, “Don’t forget, honey. He wants coffee, too.”
Julius Caesar was once asked what kind of death was the best. He gave the best conceivable answer, for he said, “A sudden one.” Unfortunately for Caesar he was assassinated the next day – suddenly.
An irate woman once told Winston Churchill, when he was a young man and temporarily sporting a small mustache, “Young man, I like neither your politics nor your mustache.” To which Churchill replied, “Madam, you are not likely to come into contact with either.”
Since we’re celebrating “Hump Day”, here are a few truly twisted limericks to test your reading skills. Pick any one of these three and try to read it as fast as possible without tying your tongue in a knot. Doing that is probably just as difficult as it was for me trying to type these damn things. Have fun with it.
😉😉😉
Two witchy witches in a Wichita ditch,
One witch with a twitch caused the witches to switch,
The spell they were under,
Caused people to wonder,
Which Wichita witch switched was which?
😤😤😤
Frankly, Frank Fankley felt cranky,
Inside Frank Fankley’s frank was Hank’s hanky.
Hank’s hanky Frank got,
Filled with Hank’s hanky snot,
“It ain’t frankly swanky,” said Fankley, “NO THANK-Y!”
As anyone who reads this blog knows I love limericks. I love the mild ones written by kids and for kids, the medium ones for many of the limerick loving adults who shy away from many of the naughtier limericks, and occasionally I get in the mood to post something a little raunchier. My favorite limerick writer has always been Isaac Azimov but one of his close friends deserved an honorable mention today. That friend was John Ciardi who for 16 years was the poetry editor for the Saturday Review and his translation of The Divine Comedy is still considered a classic. Sadly, he passed away in 1986 but his works and love of limericks lives on. Enjoy.
To those of you who were alive in the 1960’s, you know what a strange time it was not only for the country but for each of us individually. Free love, drugs, rock & roll, and anti-war fever made for interesting relationships and all the craziness you could possibly handle. I have to say I enjoyed the hell out of it. With that in mind I’m offering up a few limericks from the early sixties that you might find interesting. Put on your bell-bottoms and roll up a “J” and enjoy.
There seem to be a few of you out there who continue to request a selection of down&dirty limericks. I’m feeling a little down&dirty myself today, so I’ll bow to the pressure and offer up a few.
I’m not quite sure how to act today, there’s a huge yellow orb in the sky and I’m not exactly certain what it is. I suspect it has something to do with global warming but unfortunately, I have very few liberal friends to help explain it to me. Let’s move along to today’s post. I recently acquired a small paperback book titled Raunchy Riddles, published in 1984, (Sarcasm On) an era of true sophistication and good humor. (Sarcasm Off) Here’s a small sampling of the fine work of that era.
What would a country girl do for birth control? If she can, she crosses her legs . . . If she can’t, she crosses her fingers!
Why are anchovies like telephones? They’re the next best thing to being there!
What should a girl do if she’s looking for a passionate husband? Try a few on for sighs!
What’s brown and smells like a bell? Dung!
How can you tell the novice at a nudist colony? He sticks out like a sore thumb!
What’s a “vagrancy brassiere”? No visible means of support!
What happens when people tease you too much about masturbating? You grow callous!
What’s the greatest thing about masturbation? It’s sex with someone you love!
What does a cautious gynecologist do? Tries not to stirrup any trouble!
Why should you guard your rear when you’re in a hospital? You’re in enema territory!
Well, as I said in the past so many times it’s a gray and rainy and crappy day here in Maine. The state is overrun with tourists from Canada and from Massachusetts zero making any kind of trip even to just shop is a pain. Least touristy summer days totally destroy what sense of humor I normally have, and I need something to make me smile at least. So, with that in mind about some jokes.
😂🤣😂🤣😂
The terrible tempered Mr. Anderson, having missed an easy putt, shouted, “Oh Fuck!” A young lady in the party said, “You needn’t use such vile language. “Anderson stared at her angrily and said, “Oh, come on. I’m sure you’ve heard that word many times before. “I have, said the young lady, but never in anger.”
A woman who was having a one-night stand with the man she had casually picked up said rather contemptuously, “You have a very small organ.” To which the man immediately replied, “It merely seems small because it has been asked to play in a cathedral.”
A visitor to a certain college paused to admire the new Hemingway Hall that had been built on campus. “It’s a pleasure to see a building named for Ernest Hemingway”, he said. “Actually,” said his guide, it’s named for Joshua Hemingway. No relation.” The visitor was astonished. “Was Joshua Hemingway a writer, also?” “Yes, indeed,” said his guide. “He wrote a check.”
“Worry is the first time you find you can’t do it the second time; panic is the second time you find you can’t do it the first time.”
There was a young woman named Sally
Who loved an occasional dally.
She sat on the lap
of a well-endowed chap,
And said, “Ooh, you’re right up my alley.”
A woman said proudly, “Before I married my husband, I told him quite frankly of the various different love affairs I had had. I did not want to marry under false pretenses. “What honesty,” said one of those who was listening to her. “And what courage,” said another. “And what a memory,” said a third.
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