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Best Jokes

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The Brothel

The madam opened the brothel door in Winnipeg and saw a rather dignified, well-dressed, good-looking man in his late forties or early fifties.
'May I help you sir?' she asked
'I want to see Valerie," he said.
'Sir, Valerie is one of our most expensive ladies. Perhaps you would prefer someone else', said the madam.
'No, I must see Valerie,' he said.

Valerie appeared and told the man she charged $5000 a visit. Without hesitation, he pulled out five thousand dollars, gave it to Valerie and they went upstairs. After an hour the man calmly left.

The next night the man appeared again, once more demanding to see Valerie. Valerie explained that no one had ever come back two nights in a row as she was too expensive. But there were no discounts. The price was still $5000. Again the man pulled out the money, gave it to Valerie, and they went upstairs. After an hour he left.

The following night the man was there yet again. Everyone was astounded that he had come for a third consecutive night but he paid Valerie and they went upstairs.

After their session Valerie said to the man, 'No one has ever been with me three nights in a row. Where are you from?'

' Ontario .'

'Really', she said. 'I have family in Ontario . '

'I know.' the man said. 'Your sister died, and I am her attorney. She asked me to give you your $15,000 inheritance.' ​


The moral of the story is that three things in life are certain.
1. Death
2. Taxes
3. Being screwed by a lawyer. ​
 
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Relevant Advice

George looked worried when the doctor asked if anything was troubling him.

"Well, to tell you the truth, Doc, yes," answered George. "I seem to be getting forgetful. I can't remember where I put the car, or whether I answered a letter, or where I'm going, or what I was going to do once I get there -- if I get there! I need help. What should I do?"

The doctor replied in his kindest tone, "Pay me in advance"
 
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Ted Nugent, rock star and avid bow hunter from Michigan, was being interviewed by a French journalist, an animal rights activist.
The discussion came around to deer hunting.

The journalist asked, 'What do you think is the last thought in the head of a deer before you shoot him?
Is it, 'Are you my friend?' or is it 'Are you the one who killed my brother?'

Nugent replied, 'Deer aren't capable of that kind of thinking. All they care about is, what am I going to eat next, who am I going to screw next, and can I run fast enough to get away. They are very much like the French.' The interview ended.
 
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Banned from Wal-Mart

This is why women should not take men shopping against
> their will.
>
> After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on
> her trips to Wal-Mart. Unfortunately, like most men, I found
> shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out. Equally
> unfortunately, my wife is like most women - she loved to
> browse.
>
> Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter from
> the local Wal-Mart:
>
> Dear Mrs. Samsel,
>
> Over the past six months, your husband has been causing
> quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this
> behavior and have been forced to ban both of you from the
> store. Our complaints against Mr. Samsel are listed below
> and are documented by our video surveillance cameras.
>
> 1.. June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put
> them in people's carts when they weren't looking.
>
> 2.. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go
> off at 5-minute intervals.
>
> 3. July 7: Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor
> leading to the women's restroom.
>
> 4 July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an
> official voice, 'Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right
> away.'
>
> 5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a
> bag of M&M's on layaway.
>
> 6. August 14: Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign
> to a carpeted area.
>
> 7. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and
> told other shoppers he'd invite them in if they would
> bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department.
>
> 8. August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he
> began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people
> just leave me alone?'
>
> 9. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and
> used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.
>
> 10. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting
> department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants
> were..
>
> 11. October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while
> loudly humming the ' Mission Imposs ible' theme.
>
> 12. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his
> 'Madonna=2 0look' by using different sizes of
> funnels.
>
> 13. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people
> browsed through yelled, 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'
>
> 14. October 21: When an announcement came over the loud
> speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed, 'OH
> NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'
>
> And last, but not least...
>
> 15. October 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door,
> waited awhile, then yelled very loudly, 'Hey!
> There's no toilet paper in here!'
>
> Sincerely,
>
> Wal-Mart
 
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The Thoughtful, lKind,Considerate Husband ( A Must Read)

It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are over-sensitive, and there's nothing worse than an over-sensitive woman.
My name is Frank. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Kay. When I retired a few years ago, it became necessary for Peggy to get a full-time job along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed.
Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf club about the same time she gets home from work and although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner! I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to tak e her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club so eating out twice is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door.
She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.
Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush so much. I also ! remind her that missing lunch completely now and then w ouldn't hurt he r any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.
When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the lawn. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.
I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Kay. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will even find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older.
However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.
Signed,
Jim



 
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awife.jpg
 
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A mortician was working late one night. It was his job to examine the dead bodies before they were sent off to be buried or cremated.

As he examined the body of a Mr. Schwartz, who was about to be cremated, he noticed the size of his manhood.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Schwartz", said the mortician, "but I can't send you off to be cremated with a tremendously huge private part like this. It has to be saved for posterity."

With that, the mortician used his tools to remove the dead man's private bit. He stuffed his prize into a briefcase and took it home.

The first person he showed it to was his wife.
"I have something to show you that you won't believe," he said, and opened up his briefcase.

"Oh my God!" the wife screamed. "Schwartz is dead!"
 
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Pocket Tazer Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife.
Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest.
The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse- sized tazer. The effects of the tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....??
WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.
AWESOME!!! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.
Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right? \
There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?
So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately y on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and tazer in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was
supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds
would be wasting the batteries.
All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, 'no possible way!' What happened next is almost beyond description, but
I'll do my best.. .?
I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it dipshit,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. I
touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . .
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE
HELL!!!
I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal
position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs? The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture
frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.
Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a tazer, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.. A three
second burst would be considered conservative?
IT HURT LIKE HELL!!!
A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling.
Apparently I pooped on myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for my nuts and I'm
offering a significant reward for their safe return!


P. S.... My wife, can't stop laughing about my experience, loved the
gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!
If you think education is difficult, try being stupid!!!
 
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A cannibal father and son went hunting. Deep in the jungle, they hid beside a trail. Soon, a little old man walked by. The son whispered, "Dad! There's one. Let's get him!"

"No," said his father. "Not enough meat. We wait."

Later, a fat man came along. "Dad! He's huge. Let's get him!"

"No," his father said. "We'd all have heart attacks from all the fat in him. We wait."

Hour later, an absolutely gorgeous woman approached. "Dad! There's nothing wrong with that one. Let's eat her."

"No," said his father. "We'll not eat her either."

"Why not?"

"We'll take her home alive and eat your mother!"
 
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Subject: FW: Diamond Bracelet

A lady walks into Tiffany's. She looks around, spots a beautiful diamond bracelet and walks over to inspect it.
As she bends over to look more closely, she lets out a fart.

Very embarrassed, she looks around nervously to see if anyone has noticed her little accident and prays that a sales person doesn't pop up right now.

As she turns around, her worst nightmare materializes in the form of a salesman standing right behind her.

Cool as a cucumber, he displays all of the qualities one would expect of a professional salesman in a store like Tiffany's, and greets the lady with, 'Good day, Madam. How may we help you today?'

Feeling uncomfortable, but still hoping that the salesman may not have been there at the time of her little 'accident', she asks, 'Sir, what is the
price of this lovely bracelet?'

He answers, 'Madam, if you farted just looking at it, you're going to sh*t
when I tell you the price!'



​
 
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Subject: Minimum wage


A man owned a small Ranch In Texas. The Texas Work Force 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 farmer, "there's my farm hand who's been with me for
3 years. I pay him $200 a week plus free room and board.

The cook has been here for 18 months, and I pay her $150 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 Rancher
 
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