Jokes

Seven dwarfs go to the Vatican, and because they are The Seven Dwarfs,they are immediately ushered in to see the Pope.

Grumpy leads the pack.

"Grumpy, my son," says the Pope, "What can I do for you?"

Grumpy asks, "Excuse me your Holiness, but are there any dwarf nuns in Rome?"

The Pope wrinkled his brow at the odd question,thought for a moment and answered, "No, Grumpy, thereare no dwarf nuns inRome .."

In the background, a few of the dwarfs started giggling.

Grumpy turned around and glared, silencing them.

Grumpy turned back, "Your Worship, arethere any dwarf nuns inall of Europe ?"

The Pope, puzzled now, again thought for a moment and then answered, "No, Grumpy, there are no dwarf nuns inEurope ."

This time, all of the other dwarfs burst into laughter.

Once again, Grumpy turned around and silenced them with an angry glare.

Grumpy turned back and said, "Mr. Pope!Are there ANY dwarf nuns anywhere in the world?"

The Pope, really confused by the questions said, "I'm sorry,my son, truly there are no dwarf nuns anywhere in the world."

ALL the other dwarfs collapsed into a heap,rolling and laughing, pounding the floor, tears rolling down their cheeks, as they begin chanting .......















"Grumpy shagged a penguin!"

"Grumpy shagged a penguin!"

This it is not a JOKE :eek:
It is a comment made by a blondy:

Britney Spears speak out on capital punishment: "I am for the death penalty. Who commits terrible acts must get a fitting punishment. That way he learns the lesson for the next time."

The wife came home early and found her husband in their bedroom making love to a very attractive young woman.

And she was somewhat upset. 'You are a disrespectful pig!' she cried. 'How dare you do this to me -- a faithful wife, the mother of your children! I'm leaving you. I want a divorce right away!'

And the husband replied, 'Hang on just a minute love so at least I can tell you what happened.' 'Fine, go ahead,' she sobbed,' but they'll be the last words you'll say to me!'

And the husband began -- 'Well, I was getting into the car to drive home, and this young lady here asked me for a lift. She looked so down and out and defenceless that I took pity on her and let her into the car..

I noticed that she was very thin, not well dressed and very dirty. She told me that she hadn't eaten for three days.

So, in my compassion, I brought her home and warmed up the enchiladas I made for you last night, the ones you wouldn't eat because you're afraid you'll put on weight. The poor thing devoured them in moments.

Since she needed a good clean-up, I suggested a shower, and while she was doing that, I noticed her clothes were dirty and full of holes, so I threw them away.

Then, as she needed clothes, I gave her the designer jeans that you have had for a few years, but don't wear because you say they are too tight.

I also gave her the underwear that was your anniversary present, which you don't wear because I don't have good taste.

I found the sexy blouse my sister gave you for Christmas that you don't wear just to annoy her, and I also donated those boots you bought at the expensive boutique and don't wear because someone at work has a pair the same.'

The husband took a quick breath and continued - 'She was so grateful for my understanding and help that as I walked her to the door, she turned to me with tears in her eyes and said, 'Please ... Do you have anything else that your wife doesn't use?'

A blonde is walking down the street with her blouse open and her right breast hanging out. A policeman approaches her and says "Ma'am, you know that I could cite you for indecent exposure?"

She asks, "Why officer?"

"Because your breast is hanging out." He answers.

She looks down and gasps, "OH MY GOD, I left the baby on the bus again!"

St Peter was at the pearly gates welcoming new arrivals.When along came a group of nuns.A bus crash had been there ticket to the promised land.St Peter says to the nuns gathered in front of him "I know you are all Gods workers but rules must be obeyd,so I`II ask a question to see if you are worthy of passing through the pearly gates"To the first nun St Peter asks" have you had any physical contact with a man in a personal way?"The nun replied "when I was young I ounce touched with my finger a man`s privates."Taken aback a bit st Peter says to the nun "take that finger and cleans it in the font of holy water over there."So the nun does as she is told and passes through the pearly gates.The next nun reveals she as held a mans privates,so has to cleans her whole hand and then passes through the pearly gates.Then a nun pushes here way to the front.St Peter asks why the nun is so rude.The nun reply`s "I have worked out how this works and I`m gargling before the nun who was in front of me parks her but in the holy water"
Cheers Hall

While walking down the street one day a "Member of Parliament" is tragically hit by a truck and dies.

His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.

'Welcome to heaven,' says St. Peter.. 'Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we're not sure what to do with you.'

'No problem, just let me in,' says the man.

'Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.'

'Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,' says the MP.

'I'm sorry, but we have our rules.'

And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.

Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people.

They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne.

Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly & nice guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that before he realizes it, it is time to go.

Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises....

The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him.

'Now it's time to visit heaven.'

So, 24 hours pass with the MP joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.

'Well, then, you've spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.'

The MP reflects for a minute, then he answers: 'Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.'

So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.

Now the doors of the elevator open and he's in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage.

He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above.

The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. 'I don't understand,' stammers the MP. 'Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time.. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable.
What happened?'

The devil looks at him, smiles and says, 'Yesterday we were campaigning... ...

Today you voted.'

A new priest at his first mass was so nervous that he could hardly speak. After mass, he asked the Monsignor how he had done.

The Monsignor replied, "When I am worried about getting nervous on the pulpit, I put a glass of vodka next to the water glass. If I start to get nervous, I take a sip."

The next Sunday, he took the Monsignor's advice. At the beginning of the sermon when he got nervous, he took a drink. He proceeded to talk up a storm. Upon his return to his office after mass, he found the following note on the door:

Sip the vodka; don't gulp.
There are 10 commandments, not 12.
There are 12 disciples, not 10.
Jesus was consecrated, not constipated.
Jacob wagered his donkey; he did not "bet his ass."
We do not refer to Jesus Christ as the late J.C.
The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are not referred to as daddy, junior, and the spook.
David slew Goliath; he did not kick the **** outta him.
When David was hit by a stone and knocked off his donkey, don't say he was stoned off his ass.
We don't refer to the cross as the "Big T."
When Jesus broke the bread at the last supper, he said, "Take this and eat it for it is my body." He did not say "Eat me."
The Virgin Mary is not called "Mary with the cherry."
The recommended grace before a meal is not "Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub, yeah God."
There will be a taffy pulling contest at St. Peter's, not a Peter pulling contest at St. Taffy's.

All the organs of the body were having a meeting, trying to decide who was the one in charge.

“I should be in charge,” said the brain. “Because I run all the body’s systems, so without me nothing would happen.”

“I should be in charge,” said the blood, “because I circulate oxygen all over so without me you would all waste away.”

“I should be in charge,” said the stomach, “because I process food and give all of you energy.”

“I should be in charge,” said the legs, “because I carry the body wherever it needs to go.”

“I should be in charge,” said theeyes“Because I allow the body to see where it goes.”

“I should be in charge,” said the rectum, “Because I'm responsible for waste removal.”

All the other body parts laughed at the rectum and insulted him, so in a huff, he shut down tight.


Within a few days, the brain had a terrible headache,
the stomach was bloated,
the legs got wobbly,
the eyes got watery
and the blood was toxic.
They all decided that the rectum should be the boss.


The Moral of the story?
The ass hole is usually the one in charge

The Knob

If this doesn't make you laugh, you're dead!!!!


A woman visited a plastic surgeon who told her about a new procedure
called 'The Knob,' where a small knob is placed at the top of the
woman's head and could be turned to tighten up her skin and produce the
effect of a brand new face-lift. Of course, the woman wanted 'The Knob.'

Over the course of the years, the woman tightened the knob, and the
effects were wonderful, the woman remained young looking and vibrant.

After fifteen years, the woman returned to the surgeon with two
problems.


'All these years, everything has been working just fine. I've had to
turn the knob many times and I've always loved the results. But now I've
developed two annoying problems: First, I have these terrible bags under
my eyes and the knob won't get rid of them.'

The doctor looked at her closely and said, 'Those aren't bags, those are
your breasts.'

She said, 'Well, I guess there's no point in asking about the goatee.'

I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighbourhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect ... I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighbourhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it - it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.

Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves! Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of spectacular ... as he shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern.

This furry little tornado was doing some damage! Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing... I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.

But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary p****d-off squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH! Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.

I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in ... well ... I just plain screamed. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn-t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle ... my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser. About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however. The RPMs on The Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment) so her front end started to drop. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little a***. Finally I got the upper hand ... I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked ... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of ... so to speak.

Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly, a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car. I heard screams. They weren't mine...

I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. Except for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street and was aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car. So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway.

That was one thing. The other? Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me, shooting me the finger ... That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car ... but it was all his.

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighbourhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And some band-aids.