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These are JOKES and do not represent the beliefs or morals of our staff.  If you are offended by anything written here, that's your problem and we apologize for your lack of exposure to world cultures. If a joke is copyrighted material, please notify us and it will be removed within 12 hours.  

ENJOY!

A routine police patrol parked outside a local neighborhood bar.  Late in the evening the officer noticed a man leaving the bar so intoxicated he could barely walk.  The man stumbled around the parking lot for a few minutes with the officer quietly observing.  After what seemed an eternity and trying his keys on five different vehicles he managed to find his own car, which he fell into.

He was there for a few minutes as a number of other patrons left the bar and drove off.  Finally he started the car, switched the wipers on and off (it was a dry night), flicked the hazard flasher, tooted the horn and then switched on the lights.  He moved the vehicle forward a few inches, reversed a little and remained stationary for a few more minutes as more patrons left in their vehicles.

At last he pulled out of the parking lot and started driving slowly down the street.  The police officer, having patiently waited all this time now started up his patrol car, put on the flashing lights.  Promptly pulled the man over and carried out a breathalyzer test.  To his amazement, the Breathalyzer indicated no evidence of the man having consumed alcohol at all.

Dumbfounded, the officer said, "I'll have to ask you to accompany me to the police station, apparently this equipment is broken."

"I doubt it," said the man, "Tonight I'm the designated decoy."

One morning a husband took a pair of underwear out of the drawer.
What the hell?" he said to himself as a little "dust" cloud appeared
when he shook them out.

April," he hollered into the bathroom, "why did you put talcum
powder in my underwear?"

She shot back: "It's not talcum powder. It's 'Miracle Grow'."

Anger Management Really Works 

	When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, 

don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.

	I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the 

number and dialed it. A man answered, saying "Hello."  I politely said, "This is Sandy.  Could I please 

speak with Robin Carter?"  Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that 

anyone could be so rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. I had transposed 

the last two digits of her phone number.

	After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy 

answered the phone, I yelled, "You're an asshole!" and hung up.  I wrote his number down with the

 word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying 

bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an asshole!" It always cheered me up.

	When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling would have to stop.

So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I'm calling to see 

if you’re familiar with our Caller ID Program?" He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone. 
 	I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an Asshole!"

 	 One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black 

BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for.   I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been 

waiting for that spot. 

	The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window, so I wrote down his 

number. A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial,) 

I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole, too. 

	I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"

	"Yes, it is."

	"Can you tell me where I can see it?"

	"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front."  

	"What's your name?" I asked. 
	"My name is Don Hansen," he said. 
	"When's a good time to catch you, Don?" 
	"I'm home every evening after five." 	
	"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?" 
	"Yes?" 
	"Don, you're an asshole." Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too. 

Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.
 Then I came up with an idea. I called Asshole #1. 

	"Hello."
 	"You're an asshole!" (But I didn't hang up.)
 	"Are you still there?" he asked.
 	"Yeah," I said.
 	"Stop calling me," he screamed.
 	"Make me," I said. 
	"Who are you?" he asked. 
	"My name is Don Hansen." 
	"Yeah? Where do you live?"
 	"Asshole, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house, with my black
Beamer parked in front."
	He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying
your prayers."
 	I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole."

 	 Then I called Asshole #2. 
 	"Hello?" he said.
 	"Hello, asshole," I said.
 	He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."
 	"You'll what?" I said.
	"I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed. 

	I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
 	Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1802 

West 34th Street, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover. 

	Then I called Channel 11 News about the gang war going down on West 

34th Street.

 	I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th street. There I saw two
assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars, a police 

helicopter and a news crew.
	Now I feel much better.  

 	Anger management really works.

 Defense Attorney: "Will you please state your age."
 Little Old Lady: "I am 87 years old."
 Defense Attorney: "Will you tell us, in your own words, what happened the night of April 1st?"
 Little Old Lady: "There I was, sitting there in my swing on my front porch on a warm spring evening, when a young man comes creeping upon the porch      and sat down beside me."
 Defense Attorney: "Did you know him?"
 Little Old Lady: "No, but he sure was friendly."
 Defense Attorney: "What happened after he sat down?"
 Little Old Lady: "He started to rub my thigh."
 Defense Attorney: "Did you stop him?"
 Little Old Lady: "No, I didn't stop him."
 Defense Attorney: "Why not?"
 Little Old Lady: "It felt good. Nobody had done that since my Abner died some 30 years ago."
 Defense Attorney: "What happened next?"
 Little Old Lady: "He began to rub my breasts."
 Defense Attorney: "Did you stop him then?"
 Little Old Lady: "No, I did not stop him."
 Defense Attorney: "Why not?"
 Little old Lady: "His rubbing made me feel all alive and excited. I haven't felt that good in years!"
 Defense Attorney: "What happened next?"
 Little Old Lady: "Well, by then, I was feeling really "spicy" that I just laid down and told him, 'Take  me, young man. Take me!'"
 Defense Attorney: "Did he take you?"
 Little Old Lady: "Hell, no! He just yelled, 'April Fool!'  ... And that's when I shot the little bastard."

A guy walks into a bar in mountains of North Carolina  and orders a glass of wine.  All the redneck hillbillies sitting around the bar look up, expecting to see some pitiful Yankee from the North.

The bartender says, "You ain't from 'round here, are ya?"

The guy says, "No, I'm from Alaska ."

The bartender says, "What you do in Alaska ?"

The guy says, "I'm a taxidermist."

The bartender says, "A taxidermist? What in the hell is a taxidermist? Do you drive a taxi?"

The guy says, "No, a taxidermist doesn't drive a taxi. I mount animals."

The bartender grins and hollers, "It's okay boys. He's one of us."

A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp between two missing teeth, "Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep widdle wabbits?"

As the shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his knees so that he's on her level and asks, "Do you want a widdle white wabbit, or a thoft and fuwwy bwack wabbit, or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabbit  over there?"

She, in turn, blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her  knees, leans forward and says, in a quiet voice, "I don't think my python weally gives a thit."

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