A tough looking group of hairy bikers are riding when they see a girl about to jump off a bridge, so they stop.
The leader, a big burly man, gets off his bike and says, “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to commit suicide,” she says.
While he doesn’t want to appear insensitive, he also doesn’t want to miss an opportunity, so he asks, “Well, before you jump, why don’t you give me a kiss?”
She does, and it is a long, deep, lingering kiss.
After she’s finished, the tough, hairy biker says, “Wow! That was the best kiss I’ve ever had! That’s a real talent you’re wasting. You could be famous. Why are you committing suicide?”
“My parents don’t like me dressing up like a girl…”
A contractor dies in a car accident on his 40th birthday and finds himself at the Pearly Gates.
A brass band is playing, the angels are singing a beautiful hymn, there is a huge crowd cheering and shouting his name, and absolutely everyone wants to shake his hand.
Just when he thinks things can’t possibly get any better, Saint Peter himself runs over, apologizes for not greeting him personally at the Pearly Gates, shakes his hand, and says, “Congratulations son, we’ve been waiting a long time for you.”
Totally confused and a little embarrassed, the contractor sheepishly looks at Saint Peter and says “Saint Peter, I tried to lead a God-fearing life, I loved my family, I tried to obey the 10 Commandments, but congratulations for what? I honestly don’t remember doing anything really special when I was alive.”
“Congratulations for what?” says Saint Peter, totally amazed at the man’s modesty.
“We’re celebrating the fact that you lived to be 160 years old! God himself wants to see you!”
The contractor is awestruck and can only look at Saint Peter with his mouth wide open.
When he regains his power of speech, he looks up at Saint Peter and says “Saint Peter, I lived my life in the eternal hope that when I died I would be judged by God and be found to be worthy, but I only lived to be forty.”
“That’s simply impossible son,” says Saint Peter. “We’ve added up your time sheets.”
A guy is having marital problems.
He and the wife are not communicating at all and he’s lonesome so he goes to a pet store thinking a pet might help.
The store he happened into specialized in parrots.
As he wanders down the rows of parrots he notices one with no feet.
Surprised he mutters, “I wonder how he hangs onto the perch?”
The parrot says, “With my prick, you dummy.”
The guy is startled and says, “You certainly talk well for a parrot.”
The parrot says, “Of course, I’m a very well educated parrot. I can discuss politics, sports, religion, almost any subject you wish.”
The guy says, “Gee, you sound like just what I was looking for.”
The parrot says, “There’s not much of a market for maimed parrots. If you offer the proprietor $20 for me I’ll bet he’ll sell me.”
The guy buys the parrot and for three months things go great.
When he comes home from work the parrot tells him what Obama said, whether the A’s won, or the Giant’s lost, what the pope did and so on.
One day the guy comes home from work and the parrot waves a wing at him and says, “Come in and shut the door.”
The guy says, “What’s up?”
The parrot says, “I don’t know how to tell you this but the mail man came today. Your wife answered the door in her negligee and he kissed her right on the lips.”
The guy says, “Oh, a momentary flight of passion.”
The parrot says, “Then he fondled her breasts.”
The guy says, “He did?”
The parrot says, “Then he pulled her negligee down and started sucking on her breasts.”
The guy says, “My God, what happened next?”
The parrot says, “I don’t know. I got a hard-on and fell off my perch.”
John worked hard for his living and his wife decided that he deserved a treat for his birthday, so she blindfolded him and took him to a local strip club.
The doorman at the club greeted them and said, “Hey, John! How ya doin?”
Once inside, his wife removed the blindfold but she was puzzled and asked if he’d been to this club before.
“Oh no,” said John. “He’s one of the security guys I meet on my business trips.”
When they were seated, a waitress asked John if he’d like his usual and brought over a Budweiser.
His wife was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and said, “How did she know that you drink Budweiser?”
“I recognize her, she’s the waitress at the bar around the corner from work. I always drop in and have a Bud on Fridays, honey.”
A stripper then came over to their table, threw her arms around John, started to rub herself all over him and said, “Hi Johnny. Want your usual table dance, big boy?”
John’s wife, now furious, grabbed her purse and stormed out of the club. John followed and spotted her getting into a cab. Before she could slam the door, he jumped in beside her.
John tried desperately to explain how the stripper must have mistaken him for someone else, but his wife was having none of it. She was screaming at him at the top of her lungs, calling him every four letter word in the book.
The cabby turned around and said, “Geez John, you picked up a real piece of work this time.”
One day Mrs. Jones went to have a talk with the minister at the local church. “Reverend,” she said, “I have a problem, my husband keeps falling asleep during your sermons. It’s very embarrassing. What should I do?”
“I have an idea,” said the minister. “Take this hatpin with you. I will be able to tell when Mr. Jones is sleeping, and I will motion to you at specific times. When I motion, you give him a good poke in the leg.”
In church the following Sunday, Mr. Jones dozed off. Noticing this, the preacher put his plan to work. “And who made the ultimate sacrifice for you?” he said, nodding to Mrs. Jones.
“Jesus!”, Jones cried as his wife jabbed him in the leg with the hatpin.
“Yes, you are right, Mr. Jones,” said the minister. Soon, Mr. Jones nodded off again. Again, the minister noticed. “Who is your redeemer?” he asked the congregation, motioning towards Mrs. Jones.
“God!” Mr. Jones cried out as he was stuck again with the hatpin.
“Right again,” said the minister, smiling. Before long, Mr. Jones again winked off. However, this time the minister did not notice. As he picked up the tempo of his sermon, he made a few motions that Mrs. Jones mistook as signals to bayonet her husband with the hatpin again.
The minister asked, “And what did Eve say to Adam after she bore him his 99th son?”
Mrs. Jones poked her husband, who yelled, “You stick that goddamned thing in me one more time and I’ll break it in half and shove it up your ass!”
“Amen,” replied the congregation.