With the holidays looming on the horizon, I thought some moderately dirty jokes might put a smile on your face. So, SMILE!
Q. What’s the difference between Mad Cow disease and PMS? A. Nothing.
😜😜😜
A man is sitting on a train across from a busty blonde wearing a tiny miniskirt. Despite his efforts, he is unable to stop staring at the top of your thighs. To his delight, he realizes she has no underwear. The blonde realizes he is staring and inquires, “Are you looking at my pussy?” “Yes, I’m sorry,” replies the man and promises to avert his eyes. “It’s quite all right,” replies the woman. “It’s very talented. Watch this, I’ll make you blow a kiss to you.” Sure enough the pussy blows him a kiss.” The man, who is completely absorbed, inquires what else the wonder pussy can do. “I can also make it wink,” says the woman. The man stares in amazement as the pussy cutely winks at him. “Come and sit next to me,” suggests the woman, patting the seat. As the man moves over, the woman quietly asks, “Would you like to stick a couple of fingers in it?” “Good God!” says the man. Can it whistle too?
😛😛😛
A man walks into a sex shop and tells the woman behind the counter he’s looking for a blowup doll. The woman asks, “Would you like a Christian or a Muslim doll?” Confused the man says, “What’s the difference?” “Well,” replied the woman, “the Muslim doll blows itself up!”
🐸🐸🐸
Q. What’s green, slimy and smells like Ms. Piggy? A. Kermit’s finger.
😁😁😁
The kid comes home from school and says, “Mom, I’ve got a problem.” She says, “Tell me.” He tells her that the boys at school are using two words he doesn’t understand. She asks him what they are. He says, “Well, pussy and bitch.” She says, “Oh, that’s no big deal. Pussy is a cat like our little Mittens and bitch is a female dog like our Sandy.” He thanks her and goes to visit his dad in the workshop in the basement. He says to his dad, “Dad, the boys at school are using words I don’t know, and I asked mom, and I don’t think she told me their exact meanings.” Dad says, “I told you never to go to mom for these kinds of matters, she can’t handle them. “What are the words, son?” He tells him, “Pussy and Bitch.” Dad says, OK, and pulls a Playboy down from the bookshelf. He takes a marker and circles the pubic area of the centerfold and says, “Everything inside the circle is Pussy.” “Okay, Dad,” so what’s a Bitch?” Dad quickly said, “Everything outside that circle.”
🤩🤩🤩
Q. What’s the difference between a bitch and a whore? A. A whore blows everybody at the party, and a bitch blows everyone at the party except for you.
Many people have asked me why I don’t write about religion very often. Whether it’s Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, or any other, I don’t see the need. I don’t need an organization of millions to tell me; good is good, evil is evil, and bad is bad. Don’t do bad, don’t be evil, and do good. Is there any human being out there that doesn’t get that? I don’t think so. Even evil people know they’re doing evil and that they should be doing good, but they just choose not to. I also don’t see the need to be required to turn over a portion of my hard-earned wages so organizations can build gigantic, extravagant cathedrals, mosques, and temples in which to worship. To me it’s a no-brainer. If there is a God (I’m not a believer) and he’s everywhere, I can speak to him or her anytime I want. No church, no congregation, no donations, no preaching, and no stupid rituals . . . just simple communication.
In my humble opinion “simple” is the way to live your life. Believe what you will, keep it a private matter between you and your God (if’s that what you believe), and live your life. I have one philosophy and that is “Always do the right thing no matter the consequences”. None of this “do onto others as they would do unto you” nonsense. I don’t want to do unto anyone and I don’t want anyone doing unto me.
In the mid-60s I spent two wonderful years in the Republic of South Korea thanks to travel plans from Uncle Sam. I became immersed in their culture, their religions, and their people. I learned a lot. One of my habits on my off time was to travel through the countryside and explore. I’d hike between the minefields to reach the mountains and then just walk for miles.
It was on one of these walks that I had my eyes opened somewhat. I was probably four miles from the nearest hut, in the mountains near a place called Blue Lancer Valley. It was bright and sunny, and I hadn’t seen another human being or animal for most of the day. I was taking pictures and enjoying my time not being in the Army for a few hours. I walked around the bend in the trail along this mountainside and discovered a small statue of Buddha that had been carved into a large boulder a very long time ago. Stuck into the crevice in front of that statue was a bouquet of freshly cut flowers. I was always sorry I never got to meet the person who trekked all that way to place those flowers in that spot. That is a person who I would’ve liked to meet because for me that is religion at its best. Simple, private, heartfelt, and meaningful, at least to the person making the journey.
I’m still an unbeliever in all-things mystical but that day gave some hope. It demanded that I at least look into Buddhism as a simple way of learning how to deal with myself. I’m no Buddhist but many of their practices appeal to me, their simple way of living their life.
I’ve talked a great deal over the years about my experiences while serving in the Army. As with any young man or woman serving outside of this country, being away from home and family during the Christmas season for the first time is difficult. In my case I was not only away from family, I was in a non-Christian county that seemed to be more than a little primitive to me.
Their religion was primarily Buddhist and the Christmas holiday meant very little to them. They at times pretended to understand but that was motivated entirely by their desire to make money from visiting Americans.
At the time I was stationed in an area that was primarily populated by rice farmers living in small villages that dotted the northern countryside. There were no paved roads and most villages only had electric power for a few hours a day. For those of us from the United States it was like traveling back in time a hundred years.
I was living almost full time in a local village and actually had my laundry taken to a local river where it was beaten on the rocks with wooded paddles and soap. That certainly took some getting used to for me. My Korean friends seemed totally befuddled by the entire Christmas holiday bro-ha-ha and sat silently as I tried to explain it to them. They were interested in my stories of Christ and the Magi, but the virgin birth story had them all silently giggling a little.
Regardless I was determined to have a Christmas celebration so I asked a few of my them for their help in putting up a Christmas tree. They agreed to help but weren’t exactly sure what I was up to. As that project was progressing I had a little old mama-san ask me through an interpreter why would any sane person put a tree inside their home. I was hard pressed to answer her because I didn’t know the reason either. They continued to humor me as I explained other peculiarities that they couldn’t quite grasp.
A week or so later with two Korean friends I hiked up a nearby mountain near a small Buddhist temple to find a tree. We ended up dragging back the sorriest looking bush you could ever imagine, set it up in my hooch, and started to decorate it as best we could. There was a hand-made star on top of the tree (my doing) and a number of pieces of charcoal tied to the branches with twine (their doing). I never had that fully explained to me but it was what they wanted to do. It had something to do with good luck or good pregnancy or something. Since we had no electricity they suggested placing candles in and around the tree but I nixed that immediately. The last thing we needed was to burn down my hooch and a portion of the village when a little, dry, and nasty looking tree, bust into flames.
I had some GI decorations I made from C-rations that looked stupid as hell but they loved it. Later we ate most of the decorations and drank a bottle of really cheap brandy that I’d brought along for the occasion. I presented them each with a small gift of candy and got a little kiss on the cheek from everyone.
I was still a little homesick but that weird little celebration came to mean a lot to me over the years. It was cozy, friendly, and more than a little strange but it was also genuine. They forever became part of my extended family because they’d made an effort to help get me through a very difficult time. Christmas, the holiday, had very little meaning to them but they realized how important it was to me.
I still wonder to this day if any of them have fond memories of that night and think about it occasionally. I also hope that all of my comrades-in-arms who are away from home this Christmas are lucky enough to find some friends like I did.
Please keep them all in your thoughts and prayers.
If you read this blog then you know I’m not a proponent of organized religion. I’m trying to keep from going into a major rant on religion because I’ve done it too may times before. You also know that I love to read and love to roam around the Internet to keep up with things as best I can.
As I was doing that yesterday I discovered a few sites offering letters written to God by children of all ages. The letters were for the most part typical of young kids writing to almost anyone like Santa, the President, their Parents, and others. In the corner of one page I noticed a link to access a letter from God.
This intrigued me so I decided to check it out. It was a long and boring essay from God knows who that was made available for parents to use. You filled in a number of blanks with the kids information which then merged with the document and printed out a completed letter specifically to that child from God. I thought to myself, “Who would do something like this to their child”. Scaring the hell out of a young kid with tales of a wrathful God demanding prayers makes me very uncomfortable. I wonder how many of the world’s Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, Christian, and Buddhist children were given similar letters or stories passed down through generations. I’m all for a good and wholesome religious message to kids but frightening them with tall tales is more than a little scary.
I was raised Catholic and part of my childhood education into religion was being told many things that disturbed me then and still do. I have issues with any religion that insists they are the only path to follow and will do almost anything to insure their flock stays loyal. Propagandizing kids has been done for generations and look where we’ve ended up. Some of the worst wars and mass killings throughout history were done in the name of religion, not your God but their God.
I continued looking around and found the following letter. It’s a multi-level guilt trip for your children that is intended to force them to pray. I guess most of the worlds largest religions use the same playbook for maintaining control. One of the most effective things is convincing the kids by any means necessary not to think for themselves but to obey the dictates of their church.
Here’s the letter. Would you send this to your children?
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Hi, As you got up this morning, I watched you and hoped you would talk to me, even if it was just a few words, asking my opinion or thanking me for something good that happened in your life yesterday – but I noticed you were too busy trying to find the right outfit to put on and wear to work.
I waited again. When you ran around the house getting ready I knew there would be a few minutes for you to stop and say hello, but you were too busy. At one point you had to wait fifteen minutes with nothing to do except sit in a chair. Then I saw you spring to your feet. I thought you wanted to talk to me but you ran to the phone and called a friend to get the latest gossip.
I watched as you went to work and I waited patiently all day long. With all your activities I guess you were too busy to say anything to me. I noticed that before lunch you looked around, maybe you felt embarrassed to talk to me, that is why you didn’t bow your head.
You glanced three or four tables over and you noticed some of your friends talking to me briefly before they ate, but you didn’t. That’s okay. There is still more time left, and I have hope that you will talk to me…yet you went home and it seems as if you had lots of things to do. After a few of them were done you turned on the TV,
I don’t know if you like TV or not, just about anything goes there and you spent a lot of time each day in front of it, not thinking about anything – just enjoying the show. I waited patiently again as you watched the TV and ate your meal… but again you didn’t talk to me.
Bedtime – I guess you felt too tired. After you said goodnight to your family you plopped into bed and fell asleep in no time.
That’s okay because you may not realize that I am always there for you. I’ve got patience more than you will ever know. I even want to teach you how to be patient with others as well. I love you so much that I wait everyday for a nod, prayer or thought or a thankful part of your heart. It is hard to have a one-sided conversation.
Well you are getting up again and once again I will wait with nothing but love for you hoping that today you will give me some time.
Have a nice day! Your friend, GOD
P.S. Do you have enough time to send this to another person?
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I have many other things to say on this subject but I’ll save them for another time.
everyuselessthing.com 