Joann

Joke stolen from: Joann

Plague of Pigeons The mayor of Phoenix was very worried about a plague of pigeons in Phoenix. The mayor could not remove the pigeons from the city. All of Phoenix was full of pigeon poop. The people of Phoenix couldn't walk on the sidewalks or drive on the roads. It was costing a fortune to try to keep the streets and sidewalks clean. One day a man came to City Hall and offered the Mayor a proposition. "I can rid your beautiful city of its plague of pigeons without cost to the city. But, you must promise not to ask me any questions. Or, you can pay me five million dollars and ask one question." The mayor considered the offer briefly and accepted the free proposition. The next day the man climbed to the top of City Hall, opened his coat, and released a blue pigeon. The blue pigeon circled in the air and flew up into the bright blue Arizona sky. All the pigeons in Phoenix saw the blue pigeon. They gathered up behind the blue pigeon. The Phoenix pigeons followed the blue pigeon as she flew southward out of the city. The next day the blue pigeon returned completely alone to the man atop City Hall. The Mayor was very impressed. He thought the man and the blue pigeon had performed a wonderful miraculous feat to rid Phoenix of the plague of pigeons. Even though the man with the pigeon had charged nothing, the mayor presented him with a check for 5 million dollars and told the man that, indeed, he did have a question to ask and even though they had agreed to no fee and the man had rid the city of pigeons, he decided to pay the 5 million just to get to ask ONE question. The man accepted the money and told the mayor to ask his question. The mayor asked: "Do you have a blue Mexican?"

Joke stolen from: Joann

Marriage Contract I, the undersigned, a female accepting a marriage proposal, agree that... Section 1. In the unlikely event of my not having an orgasm after you've drunkenly rolled on top of me and pumped away for five *whole* minutes, wheezing like an old man with emphysema, I shall politely fake one. Section 1.01 And it'll be a really good act, too, with me saying stuff like "So THIS is what hot monkey love is all about!" and howling like a cat that's being repeatedly jabbed with a pin. Section 1.02 I will never ask for more *foreplay*. Section 2. I fully understand that a woman's main role in any relationship is to take the blame. So when you stub your toe in the bathroom or your football team loses, I agree that by some complex scientific equation incomprehensible to woman, it will be my fault. Even if I wasn't there. Section 3. Whenever my friends and I get together for a girl's night out, I will tell them that you are better hung than a large-balled Himalayan yak, and an elephant would jealous of your genitalia. Section 3.01 I shall mention *often* your sexual prowess and longevity in the bedroom to my friends. Section 3.02 And I will also mention this to YOUR friends-a lot. Section 4. After sex (which I will NEVER refer to as "making love"), I will not expect you to cuddle me for hours till your arm goes dead. Nor will I let my hair annoyingly get in your face. Section 4.01 I will never, ever give your penis a "cute" name. Section 5. In bed, I will be as keen as mustard to try any novel sexual position you fancy. Especially ones where I do all the work and you just lie there, grinning. Section 5.01 I will ruthlessly interrogate my attractive female friends and inform you if any of them have the slightest bi-sexual tendencies. Then I'll invite them around for dinner. And hide their car keys so they have to stay. Section 5.02 I promise to work out at the gym for two hours a day in order to keep my body sexually desirable to you, even though your intake of beer may cause your gut to swell to proportions of a nine-month pregnancy. Section 5.03 I promise never to bring up your hair loss and the fact that a baby's butt and/or honeydew melon is somewhat similar. Section 5.04 I promise to shave every *possible* inch of my body, and will always love your *weekend* beard. Section 6. After we split up, I will never sleep with any of your friends or colleagues. Or anyone else you have ever met. Or may one day meet. And if men attempt to talk to me, I will solemnly inform them that you have "ruined me for other men." Section 6. I understand that mechanical objects like cars, computer games, and remote control devices are beyond the comprehension of women. I will only make a fool of myself if I attempt to operate them, so you're in charge of anything *mechanical*. Section 6.01 With the exception of the following household items: iron, washing machine and dryer, stove, refrigerator, garbage disposal, garbage can, vacuum cleaner, diapers and toilets. Being of sound mind and body, I enter this relationship contract. Signed ____________________________________ (female)

Joke stolen from: Joann

Debbie was a knockout but alas, she also was virtually brainless. Fortunately, this was no drawback as far as Tom's plans for the evening were concerned. He was delighted when she agreed to come up to his apartment for a nightcap. As he prepared the drinks, full of anticipation, Debbie explored the apartment, stopping now and then to examine a painting or a book title, she didn't quite understand. At last she stopped dead in front of his fireplace. "What on earth is that?" she asked pointing to a carved wooden object lying on the mantel. "Oh, that. It's African," he replied. "They use them in their fertility rites. It's a phallic symbol." "Oh, I see." stated Debbie demurely. "I'd hate to tell you what it looks like!"

Joke stolen from: Joann

Dear Mr. Minister, I'm in the process of renewing my passport, and still cannot believe this. How is it that Radio Shack (Source) has my address and telephone number and knows that I bought a TV cable from them back in 1997, and yet, the Federal Government is still asking me where I was born and on what date. For crying out loud, do you guys do this by hand? My birth date, you have on my social insurance card, on all the income tax forms I've filed for the past 30 years, my health insurance card, my driver's licence, on the last eight bloody passports I've had, on all those stupid customs declaration forms I've had to fill out before being allowed off the planes over the last 30 years, and all those insufferable census forms that are done at election times. Would somebody please take note, once and for all, that my mother's name is Maryanne, my father's name is Robert and I'd be absolutely astounded if that ever changed between now and when I die! I apologize, Mr. Minister. I'm really ticked off this morning. Between you and me, I've had enough! You send the application to my house, then you ask me for my freakin' address. What is going on? You have a gang of Neanderthals workin' there?! Look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I don't want to dig up Yasser Araft, for crying out loud. I just want to go and park my butt on a sandy beach. And would someone please tell me, why would you care whether I plan on visiting a farm in the next 15 days?! If I ever got the urge to do something weird to a chicken or a goat, believe you me, I'd sure as hell not want to tell anyone! Well, I have to go now, 'cause I have to go to the other end of the city and get another bloody copy of my birth certificate, to the tune of $60! Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same spot to assist in the issuance of a new passport the same day?? Nooooo, that'd be too easy! You'd rather have us running all over the place like chickens with our heads cut off, then find some bozo to confirm that it's really me on the stupid picture - you know, the one where we're not allowed to smile?! Hey, you know why we can't smile? We're ticked off! Signed - An Irate Canadian

Joke stolen from: Joann

Long ago, in a far-away kingdom, there lived a wizard and a king. One day, the king grew tired of his wizard friend and decided to replace him with a singer. The night before the singer was to audition, the wizard mixed up a potion and slipped it into the vocalist's wine. When the singer drank it, he was transformed into a three-inch-tall stallion! The next morning, the king called for the singer, but he did not arrive. "Wizard," said the king, "Where is my singer?" "I'm sorry, your majesty," replied the wizard. "It seems after all the drinking he did last night, he's a little horse."