Them Darn Kids and My Watermelons

A local farmer just outside of town grew watermelons for a living, and he was doing quite well but was being hassled by some local kids who would sneak into his watermelon patch late at night and eat his watermelons. After some careful thought, he came up with a clever idea that he thought would scare the kids away for sure.

He made a big sign and posted it right in the middle of the  watermelon field. The next day the kids show up to eat and  found the a sign that read, “Warning! One of the watermelons in this field has been injected with cyanide.”

Feeling violated, the kids made up their own sign and posted it next to the farmer’s sign, then ran off. When the farmer returned, he surveyed the field. He noticed that no watermelons are missing, but the sign next to his read, “Now there are two!”

A Blonde’s Flight To Chicago

A commercial airplane is in flight to Chicago, when a blonde woman sitting in economy gets up and moves to an open seat in the first class section. A flight attendant watches her do this, and politely informs the woman that she must return to her seat in the economy class because that’s the type of ticket she paid for.

Dumb BlondeThe blonde woman replies, “I’m blonde, I’m beautiful, I’m going to  Chicago and I’m staying right here.”

After repeated attempts and no success convicing the woman to return to economy, the flight attendant goes into the cockpit and informs the pilot and co-pilot that there’s a blonde bimbo sitting in first class who refuses to go back to her proper seat.

The co-pilot goes back to the woman and explains why she needs to move, but once again the woman replies by saying, “I’m blonde, I’m beautiful, I’m going to  Chicago and I’m staying right here.”

The co-pilot returns to the cockpit and suggests that perhaps they should have the arrival gate call the police and have the woman arrested when they land. The pilot says, “You say she’s blonde? I’ll handle this. I’m married to a blonde. I speak blonde.” He kneels down next to the woman and whispers quietly in her ear, and she says, “Oh, I’m sorry,” then quickly moves back to her seat in economy class.

The flight attendant and co-pilot are amazed and ask him what he said to get her to move back to economy without causing any fuss.

“I told her first class isn’t going to Chicago.”

The Duck Hunter

A duck hunter was out in the marsh, enjoying the beautiful hunting weather when he felt the urge to relieve himself. So he walked over to the bushes and propped his gun against a tree. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blew and knocked his gun over, discharging it and shooting him in the genitals.

Duck HuntAwaking several hours later in a hospital bed, our duck hunter is approached by his doctor. “Sir,” the doc begins “I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is there’s no internal damage, and we were able to remove all of the buckshot.”

“Wow, that’s great!” replied the hunter. “So what’s the bad news?”

“The bad news is that there was some pretty extensive buckshot damage done to your penis. I’m going to have to refer you to my sister.”

“Oh, well that’s not so bad I guess,” the hunter replied. “Is your sister a plastic surgeon?”

“Not exactly.” answered the doctor. “She’s a flute player in the local symphony, and she’s gonna to teach you where to put your fingers so you don’t pee in your eye.”

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Some funny jokes for those who actually read.

The game of choice for unemployed people or maintenance
level workers is basketball.

The game of choice for frontline workers is football.

The game of choice for middle management is tennis.

The game of choice for CEOs and executives is golf.

Conclusion: The higher up on the corporate ladder you are,
the smaller your balls are.

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A newly married hillbilly couple decided they wanted children, but didn’t know how to go about it. Questions and conversations with friends and relatives proved no help, until a neighbor said they should go to town and ask the Big City Doctor. The doctor let them look at a child’s book about where babies came from, but to no avail. He tried his own explanation but was met with blank stares. Exasperated, he took them to his private office, and showed them a porno movie. This was also useless. Angrily, he ordered the girl to strip, told the man to watch, and had sex with her on the couch.

“Now, do you understand?” he asked.

“I just have one question. How many times a week do I have to bring her in for this?”

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One of my friends works in the customer service call center of a national pager company. He deals with the usual complaints regarding poor pager operation, as well as the occasional crank caller demanding to be paged less often, more often, or by more interesting people.

The best call came from a man who repeatedly complained that he keeps being paged by “Lucille.” He was instructed that he would have to call her and tell her to stop paging him.

“She don’t never leave no number, so I can’t call her back,” he said.

After three such calls, someone thought to ask how he knew it was Lucille if she didn’t leave a number.

“She leaves her name,” was the reply.

After establishing that the customer had a numericonly pager, the light bulb came on.

“How does she spell her name?” the service rep asked.

“L-O-W C-E-L-L”

Another problem solved.

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