Bad jokes collected from your Inbox

[me]

http://www.eyecandee.com/
A game warden was driving down the road when he came upon a young boy carrying a wild turkey under his arm.



He stopped and asked the boy, 'Where did you get that turkey?'



The boy replied, 'What turkey?'



The game warden said, 'That turkey you're carrying under your arm.'



The boy looks down and said, 'Well, lookee here, a turkey done roosted under my arm!'



The game warden said, 'Now look, you know turkey season is closed, so whatever you do to that turkey, I'm going to do to you.



If you break his leg, I'm gonna break your leg. If you break his wing, I'll break your arm. Whatever you do to him, I'll do to you. So, what are you gonna do with him?'



The little boy said, 'I guess I'll just kiss his ass and let him go!'

[me]

Legal Semantics...

A lawyer runs a stop sign and gets pulled over by a sheriff's deputy. He thinks that he is smarter than the deputy because he is sure that he has a better education.

He decides to prove this to himself and have some fun at the deputy's expense...deputy says, "License and registration, please."

Lawyer says, "What for?"

Deputy says, "You didn't come to a complete stop at the stop sign ..."

Lawyer says, "I slowed down, and no one was coming."

Deputy says, "You still didn't come to a complete stop. License and registration, please."

Lawyer says, "What's the difference?"

Deputy says, "The difference is, you have to come to a complete stop, that's the law. License and registration, please!"

Lawyer says, "If you can show me the legal difference between slow down and stop, I'll give you my license and registration and you give me the ticket, if not you let me go and no ticket."

Deputy says, "Exit your vehicle, sir." At this point, the deputy takes off his gloves and starts slapping the lawyer and says, "Do you want me to stop or just slow down?"

[me]

Life As A Turkey

When I was a young turkey, new to the coop,
My big brother Mike took me out on the stoop;
Then he sat me down, and he spoke real slow,
And he told me there was something that I had to know.



His look and his tone I will always remember,
When he told me of the horrors of ... Black November;
"Come about August, now listen to me,
Each day you'll get six meals instead of just three."

"And soon you'll be thick, where once you were thin,
And you'll grow a big rubbery thing under your chin;
And then one morning, when you're warm in your bed,
In will burst the farmer's wife, and hack off your head."



"Then she'll pluck out your feathers so you're bald 'n pink,
And scoop out all your insides and leave ya lyin' in the sink;
And then comes the worst part," he said not bluffing,
She'll spread your cheeks and pack your rear with stuffing!"


Well, the rest of his words were too grim to repeat,
I sat on the stoop like a winged piece of meat;
I decided on the spot that to avoid being cooked,
I'd have to lay low and remain overlooked.

I began a new diet of nuts and granola,
High-roughage salads, juice and diet cola;
And as they ate pastries, chocolates and crepes,
I stayed in my room doing exercise tapes.

I maintained my weight of two pounds and a half,
And tried not to notice when the bigger birds laughed;
But 'twas I who was laughing, under my breath,
As they chomped and they chewed, ever closer to death.



And sure enough when Black November rolled around,
I was the last turkey left in the entire compound!
So now I'm a pet in the farmer's wife's lap,
I haven't a worry, so I eat and I nap.

She held me today, while sewing and humming,
And smiled at me and said
"Christmas is coming ..."

[FSUCLASSOF1971]

Dumb Robber
Police in Los Angeles had good luck with a robbery suspect who just couldn't control himself during a lineup.

When detectives asked each man in the lineup to repeat the words, "Give me all your money or I'll shoot," the man shouted, "That's not what I said!"

[me]

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 w hat 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 stood, 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 before20gathering 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 du cked, fearing that someone was robbing the
> store 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 ass 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, "Sonofabitch!", 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 without 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..

[Dexter Morgan]

ROFLMAO!!! 

I had a similar experience at Sam's one time. Unfortunately, my saga didn't turn out as well. 

[me]

I laughed so hard when I was reading that my eyes kept tearing up 'cause I was thinking about my youngest daughter and some of the tales she tells.  Needless to say I passed it on to her.   

[me]

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume ' The Stance.'
In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold 'The Stance.'
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voi ce saying, 'Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way po ssible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. 'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course.  You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat beca use YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.' 
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this.'
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?'
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!
This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so accurately!

[me]

This announcement followed Gordon's decision to take advantage of the government's scheme to employ some Harlem youngsters.

The decision to hire them was brought about by a recent documentary on how unemployed youths from Harlem were able to remove a set of wheels in less than six seconds without proper equipment, whereas Gordon's existing crew could only do it in 8 seconds with millions of dollars worth of high tech equipment.

It was thought to be an excellent and bold move by Jeff Gordon's management team as most races are won or lost in the pits.

However-Gordon got more than he bargained for! At the crew's first practice session, not only was the inexperienced crew able to change all 4 wheels in under 6 seconds, but within 12 seconds they had resprayed, rebadged and sold the car to Dale Earnhardt for ten cases of Bud, a bag of weed, and some photos of Jeff Gordon's wife in the shower

[me]

    When I got home last night, my wife demanded that I take her someplace
    expensive...
    So, I took her to a gas station...

    And then the fight started...
    ************************************************************************

    After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply for Social
    Security. The woman behind the counter asked me for my driver's license
    to
    verify my age. I looked in my pockets and realized I had left my wallet
    at
    home. I told the woman that I was very sorry, but I would have to go
    home
    and come back late...
    The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt.'
    So, I opened my shirt revealing my curly silver hair...
    She said, 'That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me' and
    she
    processed my Social Security application...
    When I got home, I excitedly told my wife about my experience at the
    Social
    Security office...
    She said, 'You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten
    disability, too.'

    And then the fight started...
    ***********************************************************************

    My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion and I
    kept
    staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a
    nearby
    table...
    My wife asked, 'Do you know her?'
    Yes,' I sighed, 'She's my old girlfriend.  I understand she took to
    drinking
    right after we split up those many years ago and I hear she hasn't been
    sober since.'
    'My God!' says my wife, 'Who would think a person could go on
    celebrating
    that long?'

    And then the fight started...
    ***********************************************************************

    I rear-ended a car this morning.  So, there we were alongside the road
    and
    slowly the other driver got out of his car...
    You know how sometimes you just get soooo stressed and little things
    just
    seem funny?
    Yeah well, I couldn't believe it... he was a DWARF!!!
    He stormed over to my car, looked up at me and shouted, 'I AM NOT
    HAPPY!!!'
    So, I looked down at him and said, 'Well then, which one are you?'

    And then the fight started...

[Dexter Morgan]

 LMAO!!!!  The disability one was my favorite. 

[me]

LMAO!!!!  The disability one was my favorite. 

Mine too.....

[me]

Retirement


My wife, Rachel, asked me, "Whatcha doin' today?"

I said, "Nothing."

She said, "You did that yesterday."

I said, "I wasn't finished."

[me]

A man owned a small contracting business in  Salem ,  Oregon .

The Oregon Wage &Hours Department claimed he was not paying proper wages to his help and sent an agent out to interview him.

'I need a list of your employees and how much you pay them,' demanded the agent.

'Well,' replied the owner, 'there's my framer who's been with me for 3 years. I pay him $600 a week plus free room and board.

The sider has been here for 18 months, and I pay him $550 per week plus free room and board.

Then there's the half-wit. He works about 18 hours every day and does about 90% of all the work around here. He makes

about $10 per week, pays his own room and board, and I buy him a bottle of bourbon every Saturday night. He also sleeps with my wife occasionally.'

'That's the guy I want to talk to...the half-wit,' says the agent.

'That would be me,' replied the owner.

[me]

To make it stand,
You wet it !
To make it wet,
You suck it !
To make it stiff,
You lick it !
To get it in,
You push it!

Damn !

Threading a needle when you're older is a BITCH.