Jokes thread

Steve is shopping for a new motorcycle. He finally finds one for a great price, but it’s missing a seal, so whenever it rains he has to smear Vaseline over the spot where the seal should be. One day, his girlfriend asks him over for dinner to meet her parents. He drives his new bike to her house, where she is outside waiting for him. “No matter what happens at dinner tonight, don’t say a word.” She tells him, “Our family had a fight a while ago about doing dishes. We haven’t done any since, but the first person to speak at dinner has to do them.” Steve sits down for dinner and it is just how she described it. Dishes are piled up to the ceiling in the kitchen, and nobody is saying a word. So Steve decides to have a little fun. He grabs his girlfriend, throws her on the table and has sex with her in front of her parents. His girlfriend is a little flustered, her dad is obviously livid, and her mom horrified when he sits back down, but no one says a word. A few minutes later he grabs her mom, throws her on the table and does a repeat performance. Now his girlfriend is furious, her dad is boiling, and her mother is a little happier. But still there is complete silence at the table. All of a sudden there is a loud clap of thunder, and it starts to rain. Steve remembers his motorcycle. He jumps up and grabs his jar of Vaseline. Upon witnessing this, his girlfriend’s father backs away from the table and screams, “OKAY, ENOUGH! I’LL DO THE DISHES

Little Johnny is passing 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! Horsie 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, agrees. Johnny hops on and daddy starts going to town. Pretty soon mommy starts moaning and gasping. Johnny cries out, “Hang on tight, Daddy! This is the part where me and the milkman usually get bucked off!

Bill worked in a pickle factory. He had been employed there for a number of years when he came home one day to confess to his wife that he had a tremendous urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer. His wife suggested that he should see a sex therapist to talk about it, but Bill indicated that he’d be too embarrassed. He vowed to overcome the compulsion on his own. One day a few weeks later, Bill came home absolutely ashen. His wife could see at once that something was seriously wrong. “What’s wrong, Bill?” she asked. “Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?” “Oh, Bill, you didn’t.” “Yes, I did.” “My God, Bill, what happened?” “I got fired.” “No, Bill. I mean, what happened with the pickle slicer?” “Oh...she got fired too.”

A guy walks into a bar holding three ducks. He sets them on the bar and orders a drink. After talking with the bartender for a while, the man excuses himself to use the restroom. The bartender feels a tad awkward with just himself and three ducks at the bar, so he decides to make small talk with them. He asks the first duck, “What’s your name?” “Huey,” replies the duck. “So, how’s your day been?” “Oh, I’ve had a great day,” replies Huey. “I’ve been in and out of puddles all day.” The bartender asks the second duck, “What’s your name?” “Duey,” replies the duck. “So, how’s your day been?” “Oh, I’ve had a great day,” replies Duey. “I’ve been in and out of puddles all day.” The witty bartender says to the third duck, “So I guess your name is Louie?” The duck replies, “No, I’m Puddles.”

The other night I was invited out for a night with the boys. I promised my wife that I would be home by midnight! Well, the hours passed and the beer was going down way too easy. At around 2:30 a.m., drunk as a
skunk, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed three times. Quickly, I realized she’d probably wake up, so I cuckooed another nine times. I was really proud of myself for having a quick-witted solution, even when smashed, to escape a possible conflict. The next morning my wife asked me what time I got in, and I told her twelve o’clock. She didn’t seem disturbed at all. Whew! Got away with that one! She then told me that we needed a new cuckoo clock. When I asked her why, she said, “Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said ‘oh shit,’ cuckooed four more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then farted.”