Topic: Joke Thread - (keep it clean)

[Matthew]

No. 7 could be useful for taking car of bullies

[-<WillyP>-]

A friend of mine just started his own business, making landmines that look like prayer mats.  He says business is booming, and prophets are going through the roof…

[Matthew]

A friend of mine just started his own business, making landmines that look like prayer mats.  He says business is booming, and prophets are going through the roof…

That sounds like a good way to take of all the suicide bombers.

[Scyphi]

...or edge them on.

[Matthew]

...or edge them on.

How so?

[Scyphi]

I can just as easily see them using those things against their enemies too.

[Canceler]

reminds me of this

[-<WillyP>-]

Dear Ma and Pa,


I am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Army beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before all of the places are filled.


I was restless at first because you get to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m. But I am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot, and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing.


Men got to shave but it is not so bad, there's warm water. Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc.., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried egg plant, pie and other regular food, but tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city boys that live on coffee. Their food, plus yours, holds you until noon when you get fed again.


We go on 'route marches,' which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it's not my place to tell him different. A 'route march' is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.



This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk head and don't move, and it ain't shooting at you like the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don't even load your own cartridges They come in boxes..


Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy.


Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.




Your loving daughter ,

Alice

[Kaiaatzl]

Lol...  The end of that joke always surprises me .

I wouldn't join the army though.  I might get sent off to an actual war.

A friend of mine just started his own business, making landmines that look like prayer mats.  He says business is booming, and prophets are going through the roof…

I can't let my dad see this... it's too punny (way better than the ones he makes though).

[NUMBERZero]

I don't get the army story. Can anyone explain?

[Scyphi]

I can't let my dad see this... it's too punny (way better than the ones he makes though).

Maybe he should meet Techpro (he's pretty punny too. )

[-<WillyP>-]

I don't get the army story. Can anyone explain?

Some chic named Alice joined the Army and wrote a letter home to her Ma and Pa about how much she loved the Army, and how much life was so much easier than back home.

[-<WillyP>-]

[-<WillyP>-]

A man walks into a bar and orders one shot. Then he looks into his shirt pocket and orders another shot. After he finishes, he looks into his shirt pocket again and orders another shot. The bartender is curious and askes him "every time you order a shot, you look in your shirt pocket. Why?" The man replies, "I have a picture of my wife in my pocket and when she starts to look good, I go home."



A fellow decides to take off early from work and go drinking. He stays until the bar closes at three in the morning, at which time he is extremely drunk. After leaving the bar, he returns home on foot. When he enters his house, he doesn't want to wake anyone, so he takes off his shoes and starts tip-toeing up the stairs. Half-way up the stairs though, he falls over backwards and lands flat on his back. That wouldn't have been so bad, except that he had couple of empty pint bottles in his back pockets, and they broke; the broken glass carved up his back terribly. Yet, he was so drunk that he didn't know he was hurt. A few minutes later, as he was undressing, he noticed blood, so he checked himself out in the mirror, and, sure enough, his behind was cut up terribly. He then repaired the damage as best he could under the circumstances, and he went to bed. The next morning, his head was hurting, his back was hurting, and he was hunkering under the covers trying to think up some good story, when his wife came into the bedroom. "Well, you really tied one on last night," she said. "Where'd you go?" "I worked late," he said, "and I stopped off for a couple of beers." "A couple of beers? That's a laugh," she replied. "You got plastered last night. Where did you go?" "What makes you so sure I got drunk last night, anyway?" "Well," she replied, "my first big clue was when I got up this morning and found a bunch of band-aids stuck to the mirror."

[-<WillyP>-]

One dark night outside a small town in Saskatchewan , a fire started
inside the local sausage plant and in a blink it exploded into massive
flames.

The alarm went out to all the fire departments from miles around.

When the volunteer fire fighters appeared on the scene, the sausage
company president rushed to the fire chief and said, 'All of our secret
formulas are in the vault in the center of the plant.

They must be saved and I will give $50,000 to the fire department that
brings them out intact.'

But the roaring flames held the firefighters off.

Soon more fire departments from surrounding towns had to be called in as
the situation became desperate.

As the firemen arrived, the president shouted out that the offer was now
$100,000 to the fire department who could bring out the company's secret
files.

From a distance, a lone siren was heard as another fire truck came into
sight.

It was the nearby Melville rural township volunteer fire department
composed mainly of Norwegians over the age of 65.

To everyone's amazement, the little run-down fire engine,
operated by these Norwegians, passed all the newer sleek engines
parked outside the plant and drove straight into the middle of the inferno.

Outside, the other firemen watched as the Norwegian old timers jumped off
and began to fight the fire with a performance and effort never seen before.

Within a short time, the Melville old-timers had extinguished the fire and
saved the secret formulas.

The grateful sausage company president joyfully announced that for such a
superhuman feat he was upping the reward to $200,000, and walked over
to personally thank each of the brave, though elderly, Norwegian
firefighters.

The local TV news reporters rushed in after capturing the event on film asking,
'What are you going to do with all that money?'

'Vell,' said Olaf Johnson, the 70-year-old fire chief,


'.....da furst ting vee gonna do is fix da brakes on dat focking truck.'