I have always been proud of my sense of humor, and I look for that trait in people I associate with. It was always one of the first things I looked for when dating as well and it never failed me. I think in the future this blog will contain much more humor meaning of course a bit of “off color” funniness. Humor that isn’t tweaked by double entendres is “boring funny” and I find that totally unacceptable. I fully intend to load this blog with non-boring humor as often as possible starting today. Here goes nothing . . .
A man walks into a bar and asks for a beer. After drinking it, he looks into his shirt pocket and then asks for second beer. After drinking that one he again looks in his shirt pocket and asks for a third beer. This happens about seven more times before the bartender finally asks him, “Why do you keep looking in your pocket?” “The man replies, I have a picture of my wife in there and when she starts looking good enough, I’ll be heading on home.”
Little Johnny is walking past his parents’ bedroom in the middle of the night in search of a glass of water. Hearing a lot of moaning and thumping, he peeks in and catches his folks in the act. Before dad can even react, little Johnny exclaims, “Oh boy! Horsey ride! Daddy, can I ride on your back?” Daddy, relieved that Johnny’s not asking more uncomfortable questions, and seeing the opportunity not to break his stride, he agrees. Johnny hops on and daddy starts going to town. Pretty soon mommy starts moaning and gasping. Johnny cries out loudly, “Hang on tight, Daddy! This is the part where me and the milkman usually get bucked off!”
Goldie was sitting on a beach in Florida, attempting to strike up a conversation with the attractive gentleman reading on the blanket next to her. “Hello, sir,” she said. “Do you like movies?” “Yes, I do, “he responded, then returned to his book. Goldie persisted. “Do you like gardening?” The man again looked up from his book. “Yes, I do,” he said politely before returning to his reading. Undaunted, Goldie asked, “Do you like pussycats?” With that, the man dropped his book and pounced on Goldie, ravaging her as she’d never been ravaged before. As the cloud of sand began to settle, Goldie dragged herself to a sitting position and panted, “How did you know that was what I wanted?” The man thought for moment and replied, “How did you know my name was Katz.?”
While many of my postings contain humor, I also feel required to add a few additional lines of beautiful poetry better known as a limerick. I always prefer ones that are a bit off-color whenever possible.
Once again, it’s time for a small collection of somewhat strange riddles from my favorite raunchy decade the 1980’s. That decade wasn’t near as bad as the 1960’s but it’s a damn close second for raunchiness. Enjoy this short retro trip down mammary lane . . .
Why is a virgin like a balloon? One prick and it’s all over!
Why was the bisexual prizefighter undefeated? He could lick anyone!
Why do girls fart after they pee? They can’t shake it, so they blow it dry!
How can you tell if Dolly Parton forgot to wear her bra? There are no wrinkles in her face!
What did Adam say when he woke up and was missing a rib? “Something smells fishy around here!”
What does the Lone Ranger do in the men’s room after a big meal? Take a dump, take a dump, take a dump dump dump!
What do you call oral sex in a national park? Old faceful!
What’s a prophylactic? A planned parent hood!
What’s the definition of trust? Two cannibals having oral sex!
How many lesbians does it take to screw in a light bulb? Four. One to screw it in, and three to discuss how it’s so much more gratifying than with a man!
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.
I thought I’d start the weekend off with a little humor. Seeing as how there are only 106 shopping days until Christmas, you should start smiling as soon as possible in preparation.
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A farm girl brought a bull to a pasture in order that it might service the cow there. The farm boy in charge of the cow joined her and they watched the process. After a while, the farm boy turned to the farm girl and said, “That just makes me itch to do the same thing. How about it?” And the farm girl said indifferently, “Go ahead. It’s your cow.”
The nuclear war had come and gone. Earth lay devastated and nearly lifeless. In a puddle of water were two tiny bacteria. One said the other, “All over again – but this time, no brains.”
I once saw a cartoon which that showed two people staring at each other. One was a little man in a loin cloth, looking like Mahatma Gandhi. The other was a stalwart man with a full feathered headdress looking like Sitting Bull. Both are speaking simultaneously, and the caption reads: “Funny but you don’t look Indian.”
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There was an old fellow named Paul
Whose prick was exceedingly small.
When in bed with a lay
He could screw her all day
Without touching the vaginal wall.
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“Well,” said Mrs. Jones to her young daughter, “and what did you learn in Sunday School today?” “We learned,” said little Nancy, “about Moses.” “Ah,” said her mother, “and what did you learn about Moses?” Nancy said, “Well he was a general leading an army on a retreat from Egypt. The Egyptians, in hot pursuit, had the weight of tanks on their side, and Moses, taking casualties, was forced back upon the Red Sea, where he faced annihilation. Calling for air support, however, he proceeded to throw a pontoon bridge hastily across —” By this time Mr. Jones had finally managed to catch her breath and said, “Nancy! Surely that is not what they taught you about Moses.” “Well not exactly,” said Nancy, “but if I told it to you the way the teacher told it to me, you’d never believe it.”
Here’s a collection of really stupid headlines I rediscovered recently in my files. It still amazes me how much stuff I forgot I was saving for a rainy day. The more I dig around the more I seem to find. You can thank all of our many educated and skilled editors for their fine jobs in editing these gems.
Amphibious Pitcher Makes Debut
Forecasters Call for Weather on Monday
War Dims Hope for Peace
Death Causes Loneliness, Feeling of Isolation
Kids Make Nutritious Snacks
Statistics Show Teen Pregnancy Drops Off After Age 25
“Lady Jacks” Off to Hot Start in Their Conference
Utah Poison Control Center Reminds Everyone Not to Take Poison
City Unsure Why Sewers Smell
17 Remain Dead in Morgue Shooting Spree
Safety Meeting Ends in Accident
Best Man Left Bleeding After Being Hit by Flying Dildo
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.
Since we’re well into the middle of August already, I feel like I’m on another planet. These changes in the weather patterns are just too weird to try and explain. I’ve lived in Maine almost 24 years and I’ve never seen or experienced summer weather that would require using an electric blanket in July. It’s hard at times to celebrate a summer that we haven’t had yet but I’m sure next year will be just as effing great. With that depressing thought in mind, I feel the need to inject a little humor back into our lives. You’re welcome to come along for the ride if you like.
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There was a man who had insomnia so bad he couldn’t even fall asleep when it was time to wake up.
It was an enormous funeral that was winding its way through the streets of the town, and, in every way, no signs of sorrow had been seen. A bystander, who had been away from the neighborhood for a while, nudged a neighbor. “Who died?” he whispered. “Big Angelo’s girlfriend, said the other.” Big Angelo’s girlfriend? But she was so young! What did she die of?” “Gonorrhea!” “Gonorrhea! But that’s impossible. No one dies of gonorrhea.” “You do when you give it to Big Angelo.”
I sat next to the Duchess at Tea.
It was just as I feared it would be.
Her rumblings abdominal
Were truly phenomenal,
And everyone thought it was me.
A man and a woman met on the beach, they fell in love with each other at first glance, and after three days, were married. The wedding night was just as successful as it could be, but when the woman awoke the following morning, she found her husband dressing. She asked, “Where are you going?” “Darling, we married so quickly I didn’t have a chance to tell you I’m addicted to golf. I’m afraid you’ll rarely see me. She nodded and said, “That’s all right, we married so quickly I forgot to tell you I’m a hooker.” The man smiled and said, “That’s nothing darling. Don’t worry about that because it’s easily corrected. You just need to hold the club like this . . . . “
Chemists are known for synthesizing some marvelous chemicals. There is the story that one synthesized an aphrodisiac for men that was so powerful it had to be swallowed very quickly to avoid getting a stiff neck.
And last but not least a short but interesting story about a visitor to the home of Pablo Picasso. The visitor remarked there were no Picasso’s on the walls. “Don’t you like Picasso paintings?” asked the visitor roguishly.” “Of course, I do,” said Picasso. “I just can’t afford them.”
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!
He was an American writer and professor of biochemistry at Boston University. A prolific writer, he wrote or edited more than 500 books. He also wrote an estimated 90,000 letters and postcards. Best known for his hard science fiction, Asimov also wrote mysteries and fantasy, as well as a great deal of non-fiction.
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I’ve been a fan of Isaac Asimov, for as long as I can remember. I’ve tried to read everything of his that I could find and have never regretted it. He’s one of the most prolific writers who’ve ever lived and is well-versed in virtually any topic someone would like to talk about. Over the years I’ve also discovered that he was one of the funniest writers as well and has written books of limericks and stories that were outrageously funny. I recently acquired a book of his from 1992 (the year of his death) titled Azimov Laughs Again. It’s a volume of funny stories from his life as well as some of his favorite jokes and limericks. Here are a couple jokes to help get your day started.
Mr. Ginsberg, age 83, went to the doctor for a complete examination head to toe. About halfway through, the doctor was called to the telephone. He said, “Mr. Ginsberg, this will not take more than a few minutes. Here’s a jar. While I am gone, go to the bathroom and place a semen sample in it for examination. Then we’ll continue. “A few minutes later, the doctor indeed returned, and there stood Mr. Ginsberg with the jar- totally empty. “Doctor,” said Mr. Ginsberg. “I did my best. I tried with my right hand, and I tried with my left hand. I even tried with both hands, but nothing happened. The doctor said soothingly, “Now, Mr. Ginsberg, don’t feel embarrassed. At the age of 83, it is quite common to be impotent.” Whereupon Ginsberg said, with towering indignation, “What do you mean, impotent? I couldn’t open the jar.”
Old Mr. Anderson and his equally aged wife were filing for divorce. The judge, eyeing them with astonishment, said, “How old are you, Mr. Anderson?” “Ninety-three”, Your Honor. “And your wife?” “Ninety-one”, Your Honor.” “And how long have you been married?” “Sixty-six years.” “Then why do you want to get a divorce now?” “Well, you know how it is, Your Honor.” We were waiting for the children to die.”
He has an interesting sense of humor and I freaking love it. Here’s a small add-on which is one of his favorite limericks.
everyuselessthing.com 