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Two scatalogical news items today:

1. An elderly Romanian man ran outside early one morning to chop off the neck of a noisy rooster. He either missed or has poor vision because he chopped off his penis instead. The story gets even sadder because the dog immediately ate the dismembered member¹.
2. Japanese women apparently don’t like to make rude noises in public washrooms. Many establishments are installing hand activated systems where a speaker emits flushing noises. The device saves water, too as these genteel ladies usually flushed the toilet several times to mask the sounds². I like the name: Sound Princess. Funny, the guys on the canoe trip never really worried about rude sounds—the noisier and grosser, the better.

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A guy with a black eye boards his plane bound for Pittsburgh and sits down in his seat. He notices immediately that the guy next to him has a black eye, too. He says to him, “Hey, this is a coincidence, we both have black eyes, mind if I ask how you got yours?”

The other guy says, “Well, it just happened. It was a tongue twister accident.”

“See, I was at the ticket counter and this gorgeous blonde with the most massive breasts in the world was there. So, instead of saying I’d like two tickets to Pittsburgh I accidentally said, I’d like two pickets to Tittsburgh … So she socked me a good one.”

The first guy replied, “Wow! This is unbelievable. Mine was a tongue twister too. I was at the breakfast table and I wanted to say to my wife, Please pour me a bowl of Corn Flakes, Honey. But I accidentally said, You’ve ruined my life you evil fat bitch.”

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This list has been around and around; but, as a service to the Internet community, I have formatted it into a table for easier comparison.

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A guy walks into a bar with a pet alligator by his side. He puts the alligator up on the bar. He turns to the astonished patrons. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll open this alligator’s mouth and place my genitals inside. Then the gator will close his mouth for one minute. He’ll then open his mouth and I’ll remove my unit unscathed. In return for witnessing this spectacle, each of you will buy me a drink.”

The Crowd murmured their approval. The man stood up on the bar, dropped his trousers, and placed his privates in the alligator’s open mouth. The gator closed his mouth as the crowd gasped.

After a minute, the man grabbed a beer bottle and rapped the alligator hard on the top of its head. The gator opened his mouth and the man removed his genitals unscathed as promised. The crowd cheered and the first of his free drinks were delivered.

The man stood up again and made another offer. “I’ll pay anyone $100 who’s willing to give it a try.”

A hush fell over the crowd. After a while, a hand went up at the back of the bar. A Blonde timidly spoke up, “I’ll try, but don’t hit me so hard on the head with the beer bottle.”

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An Irishman, an Englishman and a Scotsman were sitting in a bar in Sydney. The view was fantastic, the beer excellent, the food was exceptional.

“But”said the Scotsman, “I still prefer the pubs back home. Why in Glasgow there’s a little bar called McTavish’s. Now the landlord there goes out of his way for the locals so much that when you buy 4 drinks he will buy the 5th drink for you.” “Well,”said the Englishman, “At my local, the Red Lion, the barman there will buy you your 3rd drink after you buy the first 2.”

“Ahhh that’s nothin’,”said the Irishman. “Back home in Dublin there’s O’Mally’s Bar. Now, the moment you set foot in the place, they’ll buy you a drink, then another, all the drinks you like. Then, when you’ve had enough drinks, they’ll take you upstairs and see that you get laid. All on the house.”

The Englishman and Scotsman immediately heap scorn on those claims. But, he swears every word is true.

The Englishman said, “Did this actually happen to you?”

“Not to myself, personally, no,”said the Irishman. “But it happened to my sister.''

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• Do the Alphabet song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star have the same tune?
• Why did you try singing those two songs?
• Why do they call it an asteroid when it’s outside the hemisphere, but call it a hemorrhoid when it’s in your ass?
• Why do people point to their wrist when asking for the time, but don’t point to their crotch when they ask where the bathroom is?
• If Wile E. Coyote had enough money to buy all that ACME crap, why didn’t he just buy dinner?

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Sheila the Aussie housewife got out of the shower and slipped over on the bathroom floor.

Instead of slipping over forwards or backwards, she somehow slipped sideways and did the splits and suctioned herself to the floor.

She yelled out for her husband Bruce. “Bruce! Bruce!”she yelled. Bruce came running in. “Bruce, I’ve bloody suctioned myself to the floor,”she said.

“Strewth!”Bruce said and tried to pull her up.

“You’re stuck fast girl. I’ll go across the road and get Cobba.”(His mate). They came back and they both tried to pull her up.

“Let’s try Plan B.”said Cobba.

“Plan B?!”exclaimed Bruce. “What’s that?” “I’ll go home and get my hammer and chisel and we’ll break the tiles under her,”replied Cobba.

“Spot on.”Bruce said. “While you’re doing that, I’ll stay here and play with her tits.

“Play with her tits?”Cobba said, “Not exactly a good time for that mate.” “No,”Bruce replied, “But I reckon if I can get her wet enough, we can slide her into the kitchen where the tiles aren’t so bloody expensive.''

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During his monthly visit to the corner barbershop, this guy asked his barber for any suggestions on how to treat his increasing baldness. After a brief pause, the barber leaned over and confided that the best thing he’d come across was, well, “female juices.” “But you’re balder than I am,”protested the customer.

“True,”admitted the barber, “but you’ve got to admit, I’ve got one hell of a mustache!''

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The third grade teacher asked her students to use the word ‘fascinate’ in sentence.

Molly said. “My family went to the Toronto Zoo and we saw all the animals. It was fascinating.”The teacher said, “That was good, but I wanted you to use the word ‘fascinate’” Sally raised her hand. She said, “My family went to the CN Tower and I was fascinated.“ The teacher said, “Well, that was good, Sally, but want the word ‘fascinate’''.

Johnny raised his hand.

The teacher hesitated because Johnny was noted for his bad language. She finally decided there was no way he could damage the word ‘fascinate’, so she called on him.

Johnny said, “My sister has a sweater with ten buttons, but her tits are so damn big, she can only fasten eight!''

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Though this appears in many places (134 on Google) on the Internet, it doesn't appear on my blog. The Toronto Star had a tamer rendition of the pome this weekend but I kinda like this raunchier, punnier version. I am trying "white-space: pre" for the verse style instead of using lots of <br />.

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I was gonna ramble on about some Valentine's thing but then I came across this joke while reading /.ers comments:

Every heard of Y2KY Jelly? It allows you to fit 4 digits into your date instead of 2.

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A little old lady had always wanted to join a local biker club. One day she went up and knocked on the door. A big, hairy, bearded biker with tattoos all over his arms answered. She proclaimed, "I want to join your club."

The guy was amused, but said she must to meet certain biker requirements in order to join. The biker asked, "Do you have a motorcycle?

The little old lady replied, "Yep... my bike's parked over there", and pointed to a flamed black Harley chopper in the driveway.

The biker asked, "Do you drink?"

The little old lady replied, "Yep, drink like a fish. I'll drink any man in your club under the table."

The biker asked, "Do you smoke?"

The little old lady replied, "Yep... smoke like a chimney. At least 4 packs of cigarettes and three joints a day and a couple of cigars in the evening, while I'm shootin' pool."

The biker was very impressed and asked, "Last question, have you ever been picked up by the fuzz?"

The little old lady thought for a minute and said, "Nope, but I've been swung around by my nipples a few times."

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How do you know a blonde's having a bad day?

Her tampon's behind her ear and she can't find her pencil.

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Two Nuns are riding their bicycles down the back streets of Rome. One leans over to the other and says, "I've never come this way before."

The other nun whispers, "It's the cobblestones."

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A camel and an elephant meet.

The elephant asked the camel, "Why do you have your breast on your back?"

The camel, clearly irritated, replies, "What a silly question from someone who has his dick on his face."

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The judge calls the double-homicide defendant before his bench. "You're charged with beating your wife to death with a hammer."

A voice at the back of the courtroom interrupts the judge and yells out, "You bastard!!

The judge continues, "And you're also charged with beating your mother-in-law to death with a hammer."

The voice in the back again yells, "You bloody f**king bastard!!"

The judge stops, and addresses the man. "Sir, I can understand your anger and frustration at these heinous murders, but any more outbursts from you and I will have to charge you with contempt? Do you understand?"

The guy in the back stands up and replies, "For fifteen years I've lived next door to this asshole, and every time I've asked to borrow a hammer, he said he didn't have one!"

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When I was 16, I hoped that one day I would have a boyfriend...

When I was 18, I got a boyfriend, but there was no passion. So I decided I needed a passionate guy with a zest for life.

In college, I dated a passionate guy, but he was too emotional. Everything was an emergency, he cried all the time and threatened suicide. So I decided I needed a guy with stability.

When I was 25, I found a very stable guy but he was boring. He was totally predictable and never got excited about anything. Life became so dull that I decided I needed a guy with some excitement.

When I was 28, I found an exciting guy, but I couldn't keep up with him. He always got mad, he did impetuous things and flirted with everyone he met. He made me miserable as often as happy. He was very energetic, but directionless. So I decided to find a guy with some ambition.

When I turned 31, I found a smart, ambitious guy with his feet planted firmly on the ground and married him. He was so ambitious that he divorced me, took everything I owned, and ran off with my best friend.

I am now 40, and I'm looking for a guy with a big dick.

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Q: What do you call four sheep tied to a post in Greece?

A: A brothel.

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The supply teacher told the class their teacher would be away for a few days so she would like them to remember her name: Ms. Prussy. She would ask them tomorrow.

On his way home that day, little Johnny said over and over, "Pussy with an 'R', pussy with an 'R'."

The next day, the supply teacher asked the children what her name was. Little Johnny waved his hand high in the air and was so insistent she asked him to be the first to say good morning to her.

"Good morning, Ms. Crunt!"

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The Teacher asked, "All right children, who can tell me what a chicken gives?"

Mary answered, "A chicken gives eggs!"

The Teacher then asked, "Now who can tell me what a goat gives?"

And Paul answered, "A goat gives goat milk!"

And finally the Teacher asked, "Well now, who can tell me what the cow gives?"

And Little Johnny replied, "F⋅⋅king homework and tests!"

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A guy sitting at an airport bar noticed a beautiful woman sitting next to him. He thought to himself, "Wow, she's so gorgeous she must be a flight attendant; but which airline does she work for?"

Hoping to pick her up, he leaned towards her and said, "Love to fly and it shows?"

She gave him a blank, confused stare and he immediately thought to himself, she doesn't work for Delta.

A few seconds later, another slogan popped into his head. He leaned towards her again, "Something special in the air?"

She gave him the same confused look. He mentally kicked himself and scratched American Airlines off of the list.

Next he tried "I would really love to fly your friendly skies?"

This time the woman barked back at him "Man, what the f⋅⋅k do you want?"

The man smiled, then slumped back in his chair, "Ahhh, Air Canada".

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It has been studied and determined that the most often used sexual position for married couples is the doggie position.

The husband sits up and begs and the wife rolls over and plays dead.

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Source: rec.humor.funny

For years and years they told me,
Be careful of your breasts.
Don't ever squeeze or bruise them.
And give them monthly tests.

So I heeded all their warnings,
And protected them by law.
Guarded them very carefully,
And I always wore my bra.

After 30 years of astute care,
My gyno, Dr. Pruitt,
Said I should get a Mammogram.
"O.K," I said, "let's do it."

"Stand up here real close" she said,
(She got my boob in line,)
"And tell me when it hurts," she said,
"Ah yes! Right there, that's fine."

She stepped upon a pedal,
I could not believe my eyes!
A plastic plate came slamming down,
My hooter's in a vice!

My skin was stretched and mangled,
From underneath my chin.
My poor boob was being squashed,
To Swedish Pancake thin.

Excruciating pain I felt,
Within it's vice-like grip.
A prisoner in this vicious thing,
My poor defenseless tit!

"Take a deep breath" she said to me,
Who does she think she's kidding?!?
My chest is mashed in her machine,
And woozy I am getting.

"There, that's good," I heard her say,
(The room was slowly swaying.)
"Now, let's have a go at the other one."
Have mercy, I was praying.

It squeezed me from both up and down,
It squeezed me from both sides.
I'll bet SHE'S never had this done,
To HER tender little hide.

Next time that they make me do this,
I will request a blindfold.
I have no wish to see again,
My knockers getting steamrolled.

If I had no problem when I came in,
I surely have one now.
If there had been a cyst in there,
It would have gone "ker-pow!"

This machine was created by a man,
Of this, I have no doubt.
I'd like to stick his balls in there,
And see how THEY come out.

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This was forwarded in an email but I found it also posted at I-resign.com. It hit the hubbo funny bone, so I post it here too.

Mr. X,

As an employee of an institution of higher education, I have a few very basic expectations. Chief among these is that my direct superiors have an intellect that ranges above the common ground squirrel. After your consistent and annoying harassment of myself and my co-workers during the commission of our duties, I can only surmise that you are one of the few true genetic wastes of our time. Asking me, a network administrator, to explain every little nuance of everything I do each time you happen to stroll into my office is not only a waste of time, but also a waste of precious oxygen. I was hired because I know about Unix, and you were apparently hired to provide amusement to myself and other employees, who watch you vainly attempt to understand the concept of "cut and paste" for the hundredth time. You will never understand computers. Something as incredibly simple as binary still gives you too many options.You will also never understand why people hate you, but I am going to try and explain it to you, even though I am sure this will be just as effective as telling you what an IP is. Your shiny new iMac has more personality than you ever will. You walk around the building all day, shiftlessly looking for fault in others. You have a sharp dressed useless look about you that may have worked for your interview, but now that you actually have responsibility, you pawn it off on overworked staff, hoping their talent will cover for your glaring ineptitude. In a world of managerial evolution, you are the blue-green algae that everyone else eats and laughs at. Managers like you are a sad proof of the Dilbert principle.

Seeing as this situation is unlikely to change without you getting a full frontal lobotomy reversal, I am forced to tender my resignation, however I have a few parting thoughts.

1. When someone calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal to give me a bad recommendation. The most you can say to hurt me is "I prefer not to comment." I will have friends randomly call you over the next couple of years to keep you honest, because I know you would be unable to do it on your own.
2. I have all the passwords to every account on the system, and I know every password you have used for the last five years. If you decide to get cute, I am going to publish your "favourites list", which I conveniently saved when you made me "back up" your useless files. I do believe that terms like "Lolita" are not usually viewed favourably by the administration.
3. When you borrowed the digital camera to "take pictures of your mothers b-day", you neglected to mention that you were going to take pictures of yourself in the mirror nude. Then you forgot to erase them like the techno-moron you really are. Suffice it to say I have never seen such odd acts with a ketchup bottle, but I assure you that those have been copied and kept in safe places pending the authoring of a glowing letter of recommendation. (Try to use a spell check please, I hate having to correct your mistakes.)

Thank you for your time, and I expect the letter of recommendation on my desk by 8:00 am tomorrow. One word of this to anybody, and all of your little twisted repugnant obsessions will be open to the public. Never fuck with your sys admin, because they know what you do with all your free time.

Sincerely,

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This complaint letter to a British cable operator seems to a part of Internet folklore but it makes a good read nevertheless. It reminds me of that Monty Python Argument sketch where the client walks into the Office of Abuse by mistake. I have categorized it as Crude Humour because of some of the language.

Dear Cretins,

I have been an NTL customer since 9th July 2001, when I signed up for your 3-in-one deal for cable TV, cable modem, and telephone. During this three-month period I have encountered inadequacy of service which I had not previously considered possible, as well as ignorance and stupidity of monolithic proportions.

Please allow me to provide specific details, so that you can either pursue your professional prerogative, and seek to rectify these difficulties - or more likely (I suspect) so that you can have some entertaining reading material as you while away the working day smoking B&H and drinking vendor-coffee on the bog in your office:

My initial installation was cancelled without warning, resulting in my spending an entire Saturday sitting on my fat arse waiting for your technician to arrive. When he did not arrive, I spent a further 57 minutes listening to your infuriating hold music, and the even more annoying Scottish robot woman telling me to look at your helpful website.... HOW? I alleviated the boredom by playing with my testicles for a few minutes - an activity at which you are no-doubt both familiar and highly adept.

The rescheduled installation then took place some two weeks later, although the technician did forget to bring a number of vital tools - such as a drill-bit, and his cerebrum. Two weeks later, my cable modem had still not arrived. After 15 telephone calls over 4 weeks my modem arrived... six weeks after I had requested it, and begun to pay for it. I estimate your internet servers downtime is roughly 35%... hours between about 6pm -midnight, Mon-Fri, and most of the weekend.

I am still waiting for my telephone connection. I have made 9 calls on my mobile to your no-help line, and have been unhelpfully transferred to a variety of disinterested individuals, who are it seems also highly skilled bollock jugglers. I have been informed that a telephone line is available (and someone will call me back); that I will be transferred to someone who knows whether or not a telephone line is available (and then been cut off); that I will be transferred to someone (and then been redirected to an answer machine informing me that your office is closed); that I will be transferred to someone and then been redirected to the irritating Scottish robot woman...and several other variations on this theme.

Doubtless you are no-longer reading this letter, as you have at least a thousand other dissatisfied customers to ignore, and also another one of those crucially important testicle-moments to attend to. Frankly I don't care, it's far more satisfying as a customer to voice my frustrations in print than to shout them at your unending hold music. Forgive me, therefore, if I continue.

I thought BT were shit, that they had attained the holy piss-pot of god-awful customer relations, that no one, anywhere, ever, could be more disinterested, less helpful or more obstructive to delivering service to their customers. That's why I chose NTL, and because, well, there isn't anyone else is there? How surprised I therefore was, when I discovered to my considerable dissatisfaction and disappointment what a useless shower of bastards you truly are. You are sputum-filled pieces of distended rectum - incompetents of the highest order.

British Telecom - wankers though they are - shine like brilliant beacons of success, in the filthy puss-filled mire of your seemingly limitless inadequacy. Suffice to say that I have now given up on my futile and foolhardy quest to receive any kind of service from you. I suggest that you cease any potential future attempts to extort payment from me for the services which you have so pointedly and catastrophically failed to deliver - any such activity will be greeted initially with hilarity and disbelief - quickly be replaced by derision, and even perhaps bemused rage.

I enclose two small deposits, selected with great care from my cats litter tray, as an expression of my utter and complete contempt for both you and your pointless company. I sincerely hope that they have not become desiccated during transit - they were satisfyingly moist at the time of posting, and I would feel considerable disappointment if you did not experience both their rich aroma and delicate texture.

Consider them the very embodiment of my feelings towards NTL, and its worthless employees.

Have a nice day - may it be the last in your miserable short life, you irritatingly incompetent and infuriatingly unhelpful bunch of twats.

Yours psychotically,

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The kids file back into class Monday morning. They are all very excited. Their weekend assignment was to sell something, then give a short speech on productive salesmanship.

Little Mary leads off. "I sold Girl Guide cookies and I made $30.00," she says proudly. "My sales approach was to appeal to the customer's civic spirit and I credit that approach for my obvious success."

"Very good," says the teacher.

Little Sally is next. "I sold magazines door-to-door. I made $45.00, and I explained to everyone that magazines would keep them up-to-date with current events."

Eventually it is Little Johnny's turn. He walks up to the front of the classroom and dumps a box full of cash on the teacher's desk. "$2,465.00," he says.

"$2,465.00!!" cries the teacher. "What in the world were you selling??"

"Tooth brushes."

"Tooth brushes? How could you possible sell enough tooth brushes to make that kind of money?"

"Well, I found the busiest corner in town," says Little Johnny, "and I set up a free Chip & Dip stand. I gave every single person who walked by a sample. And, they all said the same thing, 'Hey, this stuff tastes like shit!'"

Then I would say, "It is shit! Wanna buy a $5.00 toothbrush??"

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"Last week I was with one of my summer interns in the lobby when a receptionist complained that her printer wasn't working. The intern discovered a pen stuck inside the printer. He started to jam his fingers ter to get the pen, but I told him we didn't have time for that now, just put a note on the printer telling folks not to use it and then report it to the Help Desk. So he grabs a piece of paper and starts scrawling on it. I left before he finished the note.

"About 20 minutes later, one of my techs comes in and says he was just in the lobby, saw a piece of paper on a printer and went to investigate.

"This is what he found.

"Sometimes things don't always come out the way they were meant to.

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A father came in the bedroom to find his 13-year-old daughter smoking a cigarette. "My God! How long have you been smoking?" screams the father.

"Since I lost my virginity," replies the girl.

"You lost your virginity!!! When the hell did this happen?" shrieks the father.

"I don't remember," says the girl. "I was completely drunk."

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What can I say? My engineering (education) background still finds some crude humour funny. You can always skip clicking on the More... link or never look in the Crude Humour archives.

Source: rec.humor.funny

Mr. Jones gets a call from the hospital. They tell him his wife's been in a terrible car accident. He rushes to the hospital, runs into the ER and says his wife's been in an accident. They tell him Dr. Smith is handling the case. They page the doctor. He comes out to the waiting room to see a terribly upset Mr. Jones.

"Mr. Jones?" the doctor asks. "Yes sir, what's happened? How is my wife?" The doctor sits next to him and says, "Not good news. Your wife's accident resulted in two fractures of her spine."

"Oh my God" says Mr. Jones, "what will be her prognosis?" Dr. Smith says "Well, Mr. Jones, her vital signs are stable. However, her spine is inoperable. She'll have no motor skills or capability. This means you will have to feed her." Mr. Jones begins to sob. "And you'll have to turn her in her bed every two hours to prevent pneumonia."

Mr. Jones begins to wail and cry loudly. "Then, of course," the doctor continued, "you'll have to diaper her as she'll have no control over her bladder and of course these diapers must be changed at least five times a day." Mr. Jones begins to shake as he cries, sobs, wails.

The doctor continues: "And you'll have to clean up her feces on a regular basis as she'll have no control over her sphincters. Her bowel will engorge whenever and quite often I'm afraid. Of course you must clean her immediately to avoid accumulation of the putrid effluent she'll be emitting regularly."

Now Mr. Jones is convulsing sobbing uncontrollably and beginning to wither off the bench into a sobbing pitiful mass.

Just then Dr. Smith reaches out his hand and pats Mr. Jones on the shoulder.

"Hey, I'm just fucking with you, she's dead."

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My Name is John Doe.

Driving to the office this morning on the
401, I looked over my shoulder to the left and there was a woman
in a brand new Mustang doing 115 km per hour, with her face up next
to her rear view mirror putting on her eyeliner! I looked away for a
couple seconds and when I looked back she was halfway over in my lane,
still
working on that damn makeup! It scared me so bad, I dropped my
electric shaver, which knocked the donut out of my other hand. In all
the confusion of trying to straighten out the car using my knees
against the steering wheel, it knocked my cell phone away from
my ear which fell into the coffee between my legs,
splashed and scalded Big Jim and the Twins, ruined the damn phone and
disconnected an important call!

Women drivers!

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A professor of mathematics sent a fax to his wife. It read:

“Dear Wife:

You must realize that you are 54 years old, and I have certain needs which you are no longer able to satisfy. I am otherwise happy with you as wife, and I sincerely hope you will not be hurt or offended to learn that by the time you receive this letter, I will be at the Grand Hotel with my 18-year-old teaching assistant. I’ll be home before midnight.

Your Husband”

When he arrived at the hotel, there was a faxed letter waiting for him that read as follows:

“Dear Husband:

You, too, are 54 years old, and by the time you receive this letter, I will be at the Breakwater Hotel with the 18-year-old pool boy. Being the brilliant mathematician that you are, you can easily appreciate the fact that 18 goes into 54 many more times than 54 goes into 18. Don’t wait up.”

Source: www.netfunny.com

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Source: Cousin Paul

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Every so often I might post a crude (but funny, at least to me :-) joke. Here's one from Randy Cassingham, author of This is True.

While playing on the front nine of a complicated golf course, a man
became confused as to where he was on the course.

Looking around, he saw a lady playing ahead of him. He walked up to her,
explained his confusion and asked her if she knew what hole he was
playing.

"I'm on the 7th hole," she replied, "and you are a hole behind me. So
you must be on the 6th hole." He thanked her and went back to his golf.

On the back nine, the same thing happened and he approached her again
with the same request. "I'm on number 14, and you're still a hole
behind, so you must be on the 13th hole."

Once again he thanked her and returned to his play. He finished his
round and went to the clubhouse were he saw the same lady sitting at the
end of the bar. He asked the bartender if he knew the lady. The
bartender said that she was a saleslady and played the course often.

He approached her and said, "Let me buy you a drink in appreciation for
your help. I understand that you're in the sales profession. I'm in
sales also. What do you sell?"

"I'll tell you, but you'd laugh," she replied.

"No, I won't," he promised.

"Well, if you must know," she answered, "I work for Tampax."

With that, he laughed so hard he almost fell off the bar stool.

"See," she said. "I knew you'd laugh!"

"That's not why I'm laughing," he replied. "I'm a salesman for
Preparation H, so I'm still a hole behind you."