by Mike Hunt
3. “Scattered showers, my fucking ass!” -- Noah, 4314 BC
2. “C’mon, Monica. Who the fuck is going to find out?”
– William Jefferson Clinton, 1998
1. “Geez, I didn’t think they’d get this
fucking pissed!”
-- Saddam Hussein, 2003
LOGICAL DEDUCTION
A woman was shopping at her local supermarket where she selected the following items:
A half-gallon of 2% milk,
A carton of eggs,
A quart of orange juice,
A head of romaine lettuce,
A 2 lb. can of coffee,
A 1 lb package of bacon.
As she was loading her items onto the conveyor belt to check out, a drunk standing behind her watched as she placed the items in front of the cashier.
While the cashier was ringing up her purchase the drunk calmly stated, “You must be single.”
The woman was a bit startled by this proclamation, but she was intrigued by the derelict’s intuition, since she was indeed single.
She looked at her six items on the belt and saw nothing particularly unusual about her selections which could have tipped off the drunk to her marital status.
With her curiosity getting the better of her, she finally said “Well, you know what, you are absolutely correct. But, how on earth did you know that?”
The drunk replied, “Because you’re uglier ‘n shit!”
TRAFFIC STOP
An elderly couple was driving cross-country when the wife got pulled over.
The officer said, “Ma’am, did you know you were speeding?”
The woman turned to her husband and asked, “What did he say?”
The old man yelled, “He said you were speeding.”
The patrolman said, “May I see your license?”
The woman asked her husband, “What did he say?”
The old man yelled, “He wants to see your license.”
The woman gave him her license.
The patrolman said, “I see you are from Arkansas. I spent some time there once. Had the worst sex with a woman I ever had...”
The woman asked her husband, “What did he say?”
“HE THINKS HE KNOWS YOU!”
DIVORCE LETTER
Dear Connie,
I know the counselor said we shouldn’t contact each other during our “cooling off” period, but I couldn’t wait anymore. The day you left, I swore I’d never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride has cost me a lot of things. I’m tired of pretending I don’t miss you. I don’t care about looking bad anymore, or who makes the first move as long as one of us does.
Maybe it’s time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is what my heart says: “There’s no one like you, Connie.” I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they’re not you. They’re not even close. Two weeks ago I met this girl at Flamingos, and brought her home with me. I don’t say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation.
She was young, maybe nineteen, with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Tits like you wouldn’t believe, and an ass that just wouldn’t quit. It’s every man’s dream, right? But as I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, ‘look at the stuff we’ve made important in our lives.’ It’s all so superficial.
What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I’m getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I’d never really thought of that before.
I don’t know, maybe I’m just growing up a little. Later, after I’d tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, “Why do I feel so drained and empty?” It wasn’t just her flawless deep throat technique, or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it all feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn’t feel the same because you weren’t there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, I’m just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn’t eating right without a woman around. I didn’t know what she meant till later, but that’s not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know, we’re banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart was a total monster in the sack. She’s giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does when she’s not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmother’s old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it’s totally hot, but it makes me sad, too. ‘Cause I can’t help thinking, “Why didn’t Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We’ve had this old vanity for what, fourteen years, and never used it as a sex toy.”
Saturday, your sister dropped by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicky’s just a kid and all, but she’s got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she’s been a real friend to me during this painful time. She’s given me lots of good advice about you, and about women in general. She’s pulling for us to get back together Connie, she really is. So we’re doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier times. Here’s this teenage girl with the same DNA as you, and all I can do is think of how much she looks like you when you were eighteen. And that just about makes me cry.
And then it turns out Vicky’s really into the whole anal thing, and that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I’m thrusting inside your baby sister’s cinnamon ring, all I can do is think of you? It’s true, Connie. In your heart you must know it. Don’t you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can.
If you feel the same please, please let me know. Otherwise, can you let me know where the fucking remote is?
All My Love,
Dan
FRANK FELDMAN
A man walked out to the street and caught a taxi cab just going by. He got into the taxi and the cabbie said, “Perfect timing. You’re just like Frank.”
The passenger said, “Who?”
The cabbie responded, “Frank Feldman. He’s a guy who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time.”
The passenger said, “There are always a few clouds over everybody.”
The cabbie disagreed. “Nope, not Frank Feldman. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone, danced like a Broadway star, and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy.”
The passenger said, “Sounds like he was something really special.”
The cabbie added, “There's more! He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody’s birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order, and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman, he could do everything right.”
“Wow, some guy then…”
The cabbie continued, “He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic, and avoided traffic jams. Not like me. I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake ... and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good. He would never answer her back, even if
she was in the wrong… and his clothing was always immaculate. Shoes highly polished too. He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman.”
The passenger nodded. “A truly amazing fellow! How did you meet him?”
“Well, I never actually met Frank. He died, and I’m married to his damn widow!”
TEE’D OFF
Harold had a week off so he decided to play golf every day, and early on Monday morning found himself paired with an attractive woman named Annette who turned out to be a very good golfer.
They started with a few casual bets, but by the time they reached the back nine it was a full-blown competition.
On the eighteenth green, Annette sank a long birdie putt for the win.
Harold congratulated her, and paid off his losses.
Annette asked for a ride home, and on the way told him, “You know Harold, I haven’t enjoyed myself that much on the golf course in a long time. In fact, pull over so I can express my appreciation.”
He did, they kissed, one thing led to another, and eventually she gave him the best blowjob he’d ever had.
The next morning they met on the first tee and played together again. They had another magnificent day, enjoying each other’s company and playing tight, competitive golf.
Again Annette beat him, but she once again showed her appreciation on the drive home with an amazing blowjob.
This went on all week, with Harold narrowly losing every day, his male ego bruised, but not unhappy.
On Friday’s drive home Harold said, “Annette, you’ve been great to be with all this week, and tonight I’d like to return the favor. I made reservations at the best restaurant in town for us, and reserved the penthouse suite at the best hotel. What do you say?”
Annette burst into tears. “I can’t!”
“What? Why not?” he asked.
“Because…” she sobbed, “I’m in the middle of a sex change, and the doctor hasn’t completed that part of me yet!”
“What?” Aghast, Harold swerved off the road, screeched to a stop and cursed madly, overcome with emotion.
“I’m so sorry,” said Annette, “You have a right to be angry with me.”
“You bastard!” Harold screamed, his face bright red. “You cheating bastard! All week long you’ve been playing off the women’s tees!”
OLD COWBOY
An old cowboy sat down at the Starbucks counter and ordered a cup of coffee. As he sat sipping it, a young woman sat down next to him.
She turned to the cowboy and asked, “Are you a real cowboy?”
He replied, “Well, I’ve spent my whole life breaking colts, working cows, going to rodeos, fixing fences, pulling calves, bailing hay, doctoring calves, cleaning my barn, fixing flats, working on tractors, and feeding my dogs… so I guess I’m a cowboy.”
She said, “I’m a lesbian. I spend my whole day thinking about naked women. As soon as I get up in the morning, I think about naked women. When I shower, I think about naked women. When I watch television, I think about naked women. It seems like everything makes me think of naked women.”
The two sat sipping in silence.
A little while later, a man sat down on the other side of the old cowboy and asked, Say are you a real cowboy?”
He replied, “I always thought I was, but I just found out I’m really a lesbian!”
THE FISHING TRIP
Dave’s buddies were planning a big fishing trip, but he had to tell them he couldn’t go this time because his wife wouldn’t let him. After a lot of teasing and name calling Dave headed home, frustrated.
The following week Dave’s buddies arrived at the lake to set up camp and were shocked to see Dave. He was already there with a cold beer, swag rolled out, fishing rod in hand, and a camp fire glowing.
“How did you talk your missus into letting you go, Dave?”
“I didn’t have to,” he replied. “Last week when I left I went home and sat in my chair with a beer to drown my sorrows. My wife snuck up behind me, covered my eyes, and said, ‘Surprise!’ When I peeled her hands back she was in a see through negligee and said, ‘Carry me to the bedroom, tie me to the bed, and do whatever you want’… SO HERE I AM!”
ALL THAT GLITTERS
A woman went to her doctor’s office to discuss a strange development. She has discovered a green spot on the inside of each thigh. They wouldn’t wash off, they wouldn’t scrape off, and they seemed to be getting worse. The doctor assured her that he’d get to the bottom of the problem, and told her not to worry until he got the tests back.
A few days later the woman’s phone rang. Much to her relief, it was the doctor. She immediately begged to know what was causing the spots.
The doctor said, “You’re perfectly healthy, and there’s no problem. But I’m wondering… was your boyfriend that Harley guy out in the waiting room?”
The woman stammered, “Why, yes… but how did you know?”
“Tell him his earrings aren’t real gold.”
POISON PILL
A nice, calm and respectable lady went into the pharmacy, walked up to the pharmacist, looked straight into his eyes, and said, “I would like to buy some cyanide.”
The pharmacist asked, “Why in the world do you need cyanide?”
She said, “I need to poison my husband.”
The pharmacist’s eyes got big and he exclaimed, “Lord have mercy! I can’t give you cyanide to kill your husband. That’s against the law! I’ll lose my license! They’ll throw both of us in jail! All kinds of bad things will happen. Absolutely not! You CANNOT have any cyanide!”
The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist’s wife.
The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, “Well now, that’s different. You didn’t tell me you had a prescription!”
JUNGLE SEX
When Jane first met Tarzan in the
jungle she was attracted to him. During her questions about his life, she asked him how
he had sex.
“Tarzan not know this sex,” he replied.
Jane explained to him what sex was, and Tarzan said, “Oh… Tarzan use knot hole in trunk of tree.”
Horrified, Jane said, “Tarzan, you have it all wrong… but I will show you how to do it properly.” She took off her clothing and laid down on the ground. “Here,” she said, pointing to her pussy, “put it in here.”
Tarzan removed his loin cloth, showing Jane his considerable manhood, stepped closer to her, and kicked her in the crotch!
Jane rolled around in agony for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually she managed to grasp for air, and screamed, “What did you do that for?”
He replied, “Tarzan check for squirrel.”
STRING HIM UP!
On Saturday afternoon I was sitting in my lawn chair, drinking a beer, and watching my wife mow the lawn.
The neighbor lady from across the street was so outraged that she came over and shouted at me, “You should be hung!”
I took a drink from my can of Amstel Lite, wiped the cold foam from my lips, lifted my darkened Ray Ban sunglasses, stared directly into the eyes of this nosy ass neighbor, and then calmly replied, “Actually, I am. That’s why she cuts the grass!”
A LA CARTE MENU
A crusty old biker out on a long summer ride in the country pulled up to a tavern in the middle of nowhere, parked his bike, and walked inside. As he passed through the swinging doors, he saw a sign hanging over the bar:
COLD BEER: $2.00
HAMBURGER: $2.25
CHEESEBURGER: $2.50
CHICKEN SANDWICH: $3.50
HAND JOB: $50.00
Checking his wallet to be sure he had the necessary payment, the old biker walked up to the bar and beckoned to the exceptionally attractive female bartender who was serving drinks to a couple of sun-wrinkled farmers.
She glided down behind the bar to the old biker. “Yes?” she inquired with a w
ide, knowing smile, “may I help you?”
The old biker leaned over the bar. “I was wondering young lady,” he whispered, “are you the one who gives the hand-jobs?”
She looks into his eyes with that wide smile and purred, “Why yes. Yes, I sure am.”
The old biker leaned closer, and into her left ear whispers softly, “Well, wash your hands real good, ‘cause I want me a cheeseburger.”
SPEAK!
Cowboy: “That your dog?”
Indian: “Yep.”
Cowboy: “Mind if I speak to him?”
Indian: “Dog no talk.”
Cowboy: “Hey dog, how’s it going?”
Dog: “I’m doin’ all right.”
Indian: (Look of shock!)
Cowboy: “Is this Indian your owner?”
Dog: “Yep.”
Cowboy: “How’s he treating you?”
Dog: “Real good. He walks me twice a day, feeds me great food and takes me to the lake once a week to play.”
Indian: (Look of total disbelief)
Cowboy: “Mind if I talk to your horse?”
Indian: “Horse no talk.”
Cowboy: “Hey horse, how’s it going?”
Horse: “Cool.”
Indian: (Extreme look of shock!)
Cowboy: “Is this your owner?”
