Once upon a time at a Big Spread just outside of Dallas. a wealthy Oilman was throwing a big pool party at his Home. The swimming pool was an Olympic Size Pool, however, when the guests began to arrive, they noticed a very large 10' Gator swimming in the pool.

After everyone had arrived and had time to discuss the reason for the Huge Gator to be in the Swimming Pool, especailly since it was a pool party, the Oilman showed up he told everyone that the Gator was there for the first part of the Entertainment Program. He then proceeded to tell the guests that he was willing to pay anyone a $100,000 to get the Gator out of the pool.

About that time 'ol Bubba Billy Bob jumped into the pool and began wrestling the Gator and after a very long battle he finally drug the dead Gator out of the pool.

Everyone was applauding and the Oilman said "Son that was the most daring thing that I have ever seen and I am going to write you a check for a $100, 000 right now!" Then Bubba Billy Bob, still choking from all the water that he had swallowed managed to say "Screw the 100 Grand, I want the name of that Son of a ***** that pushed me in the pool !"

How to clean a toilet

1.. Put both lids of the toilet up and add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the water in the bowl.

2.. Pick up the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the bathroom.

3. In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close the lid.
� � You may need to stand on the lid.

4. The cat will self agitate and make ample suds.� Never mind the noises that come from the toilet, the cat is actually enjoying this.

5. Flush the toilet three or four times.� This provides a 'power-wash' and rinse'.

6. Have someone open the front door of your home.� Be sure that there are no people between the bathroom and the front door.

7. Stand behind the toilet as far as you can, and quickly lift the lid.

8. The cat will rocket out of the toilet, streak through the bathroom, and run outside where he will dry himself off.

9. Both the commode and the cat will be sparkling clean.

The Chilli........
I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that
course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had
prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented "You're definitely
going to $h!t yourself" chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful,
which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the next da y
both of your ***** cheeks WILL fall off.



Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of
coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No "Watson's
Movement 2". Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my
intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning
symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning.



Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when, I
bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I often
haunt in search of tasty tidbits.



Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and
began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was
at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me.
Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm
referring to that "Uh oh, gotta go" pain that always seems to hit us at the
wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.



The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt. In a
mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines,
forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one
step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it
happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.



There I st ood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped in a
noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was
afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly,
oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I
began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly woman turned
into it.



I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction
would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she
walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different
directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at
least will be able to relate.



I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched as she walked
into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible
that all she could do before gathering her senses and running, was to stand
there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though trying to ward
off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me
laugh. Mistake.



Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things "clamped down",
if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth
from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a
few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the
0Astore and firing off a shotgun.



Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off through
the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying
that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.



Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the
inevitable "Oh my God", floating above the toilet seat because my *** is
burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle
of what is the true meaning of "Shock and Awe". He made a gagging sound, and
disgustedly said, "Sonofa*****!", then quickly left.



Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart
intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me
and said, "Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears
some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to
run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of
the problem."



That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The
employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose
and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, "IT'S YOU!", then ran off
returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted
from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.



Home again with out having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat
but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to
shop at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court
over the whole matter. Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the
store..

I see you got over the "Tazer incident" quite well!





In a while, Chet.

__________________
It's not what you take with you when you leave, it's what you leave behind you when you go.

My Monte Carlo Addicts site

All are just an old e mails that I thought were funny,I can only wish that I could write that well.but as you can tell I have managed to learn to copy& paste since our last comunication.BTW I've enjoyed your funny stuff very much I'll be doing some copying & pasting some for my hotrodder buddies down under,most of its all new to them,they really liked the tazer one(its five yrs old)but still makes me laugh.He he

...and you think you had a bad day!!!!

HA,Ha,Ha,I been there .Those pink things aint breath mints.....How do you wipe the big smile off an Irishmans face?..............Last Call..........."brain" deadbodyman...LOL.....Thanks ,dinger,told ya I liked it.This is my favorite thread.Who started this anyway?He,he

The day finally arrived. Forrest Gump dies and goes to Heaven. He is at

the Pearly Gates, met by St. Peter himself..



However, the gates are closed,

and Forrest approaches the gatekeeper.


St. Peter said, 'Well, Forrest,it is certainly good to see you.

We have heard a lot about you.. I must

tell you, though, that the place is filling up fast, and we have been administering

an entrance examination for everyone. The test is short, but you have to

pass it before you can get into Heaven.'


Forrest responds, 'It sure is good to be here, St. Peter, sir.

But nobody ever told me about any entrance exam. I sure hope that the test ain't too hard.

Life was a big enough test as it was.'


St. Peter continued, 'Yes, I

know, Forrest, but the test is only three questions'

First:

What two days of the week begin with the letter T?

Second:

How many seconds are there in a year?

Third:

What is God's first name?'


Forrest leaves to think the questions over.

He returns the next day and sees St. Peter, who waves him up, and says,

'Now that you have had a chance to think the questions over, tell me your answers'


Forrest replied, 'Well, the first one -- which two days in the week begins with the letter 'T'?

Shucks, that one is easy.. That would be Today and Tomorrow.'


The Saint's eyes opened wide and he exclaimed, 'Forrest, that is not what I was thinking, but you do have a point,

and I guess I did not specify, so I will give you credit for that answer.. How about the next one?' asked St. Peter.


'How many seconds in a year?

Now that one is harder,' replied Forrest, but I thunk and thunk about that,

and I guess the only answer can be twelve.'


Astounded, St. Peter said, 'Twelve?

Twelve?

Forrest, how in Heaven's name could you come up with twelve seconds in a year?'


Forrest replied, 'Shucks, there's got to be twelve: January 2nd, February 2nd, March 2nd.. '


'Hold it,' interrupts St. Peter. 'I see where you are going with this, and I see your point,

though that was not quite what I had in mind....but I will have to give you credit for that one, too.



Let us go on with the third and final question.

Can you tell me God's first name'?


'Sure,' Forrest replied, 'it's Andy..'


'Andy?' exclaimed an exasperated and frustrated St Peter.


'Ok, I can understand how you

came up with your answers to my first two questions, but just how in the world did you come up with the name Andy as the first name of God?'


'Shucks, that was the easiest one of all,' Forrest replied.






'I learnt it from the song, 'ANDY WALKS WITH ME, ANDY TALKS WITH ME, ANDY TELLS ME I AM HIS OWN..'


St. Peter opened the Pearly Gates, and said: 'Run Forrest, Run'

A little boy says to his mother,"Mommy, how come I'm black and you're white?"





His mother replied,
"Don't even go there! From what I remember about that party, you're ****ing lucky you don't bark!

An old Italian lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground was hard.

His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:


Dear Vincent,

I am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won't be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over.. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days.

Love, Papa


A few days later he received a letter from his son.


Dear Pop,

Don't dig up that garden. That's where the bodies are buried.

Love,

Vinnie




At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left.


That same day the old man received another letter from his son..


Dear Pop,

Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the circumstances.


Love you,


Vinnie

A little boy wanted $100.00 very badly and prayed for weeks, but nothing happened .

Then he decided to write God a letter requesting the $100.00.

When the postal authorities received the letter to God, USA, they decided to send it to the President.

The President was so amused that he instructed his secretary to send the little boy a $ 5.00 bill.

The President thought this would appear to be a lot of money to a little boy.

The little boy was delighted with the $5.00 bill and sat down to write a thank-you note to God, which read:

Dear God: Thank you very much for sending the money. However, I noticed that for some reason you sent it through Washington, D.C. and those thieves took $95.00 in taxes.

----- A handful of 7 year old children were asked what they thought of beer:



Some interesting responses:

7 year old Tim:
" I think beer must be good. My dad says the more beer he drinks the prettier my mum gets "

7 year old Mellanie:
" Beer makes my dad sleepy and we get to watch what we want on television when he is asleep, so beer is nice "

7 year old Grady:
"My Mum and Dad both like beer. My Mum gets funny when she drinks it and takes her top off at parties, but Dad doesn't think this is very funny "

7 year old Toby:
" My Mum and Dad talk funny when they drink beer and the more they drink the more they give kisses to each other, which is a good thing "

7 year old Sarah:
"My Dad gets pissed on beer. He is funny. He also wets his pants sometimes, so he shouldn't have too much "

7 year old Lilly:
" My Dad loves beer. The more he drinks, the better he dances. One time he danced right into the pool "

7 year old Ethan:
" I don't like beer very much Every time Dad drinks it, he burns the sausages on the barbaque and they taste disgusting "

7 year old Shirley:
" I give Dad's beer to the Dog and he goes to sleep"

7 year old Jack:
" My Mum drinks beer and she says silly things and picks on my father. Whenever she drinks beer she yells at Dad and tells him to go bury his
bone down the street again, but that doesn't make any sense"

Q: why do dogs lick their nuts?.............A:because they can

Two California Highway Patrol Officers were conducting speeding enforcement on I-15, just north of the Marine Corps Air Station at Miramar . One of the officers was using a hand held radar device to check speeding vehicles approaching the crest of a hill. The officers were suddenly surprised when the radar gun began reading 300 miles per hour. The officer attempted to reset the radar gun, but it would not reset and then turned off.
Just then a deafening roar over the tree tops revealed that the radar had in fact locked on to a USMC F/A-18 Hornet which was engaged in a low flying exercise near the location.


Back at the CHP Headquarters the Patrol Captain fired off a complaint to the USMC Base Commander. The reply came back in true USMC style:
Thank you for your letter. We can now complete the file on this incident.
You may be interested to know that the tactical computer in the Hornet had detected the presence of, and subsequently locked on to your hostile radar equipment and automatically sent a jamming signal back to it, which is why it shut down.
Furthermore, an Air-to-Ground missile aboard the fully armed aircraft had also automatically locked on to your equipment location.
Fortunately, the Marine Pilot flying the Hornet recognized the situation for what it was, quickly responded to the missile system alert status, and was able to override the automated defense system before the missile was launched to destroy the hostile radar position.
The pilot also suggests you cover your mouths when cussing at them, since the video systems on these jets are very high tech.
Sergeant Johnson, the officer holding the radar gun, should get his dentist to check his left rear molar. It appears the filling is loose. Also, the snap is broken on his holster.
Thank you for your concern.
Semper Fi

(I'll tone this one down a little...)

A lounge owner put a sign in the window saying "Pianist Wanted". The next day, a man walks in, introduces himself as Frank and says he's interested in the job.

"What kind of songs can you play?" asks the owner.

"I play all my own compositions." says Frank.

"Come over to the piano, Frank, and let's have a listen." says the owner.

Frank sits down and plays a wonderful piece. The owner is impressed. He asks, "What that one called?"

"I Love an Orgy early in the Morning" answers Frank.

The owner is taken aback a little, but asks to hear another one. Frank proceeds to play another beautiful piece of music. The owner is thrilled. "And what's that one called?" he asks.

Frank answers, "My Blue Balls are Beggin' to Burst."

The owner can't believe what he's hearing but says to Frank anyways , "You've got the job. Your songs are marvelous, but I'm not too sure about their names. Please, just don't tell the audience what they're called." Frank agrees.

Later that night, Frank plays a great set. The audience loves him. He tells the crowd he's going to take a break and that he'll be back shortly. During the break he goes to the restroom. When he comes out, he walks by a patron who almost chokes from what he sees.

"Hey!" the patron calls to Frank. "Come here! Quick!"

Frank goes over to the patron who tells him discreetly, "Do you know your zipper's open and your wiener's hanging out?"

Frank answers proudly, "Do I know it? I WROTE IT!!"