Previously On Johns-Jokes
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Farmer Joe's Day In CourtFarmer Joe decided his injuries from the accident were serious enough to take the trucking company responsible for the accident to court. In court the trucking company's fancy lawyer was questioning farmer Joe.
"Didn't you say at the scene of the accident, 'I'm fine,"' asked the lawyer.
Farmer Joe responded, "Well, I'll tell you what happened. I had just loaded my favorite mule Bessie into the..."
"I didn't ask for any details," the lawyer interrupted, "just answer the question. Did you not say at the scene of the accident, 'I'm fine!'."
Farmer Joe said, "Well, I had just got Bessie into the trailer and I was driving down the road..."
The lawyer interrupted again and said, "Judge, I am trying to establish the fact that, at the scene of the accident, this man told the highway patrolman on the scene that he was fine. Now several weeks after the accident he is trying to sue my client. I believe he is a fraud. Please tell him to simply answer the question."
By this time the judge was fairly interested in Farmer Joe's answer and said to the lawyer, "I'd like to hear what he has to say."
Joe thanked the Judge and proceeded, "Well, as I was saying, I had just loaded Bessie into the trailer and was driving her down the highway when this huge semi-truck and trailer ran the stop sign and smacked my truck right in the side. I was thrown into one ditch and Bessie was thrown into the other. I was hurting real bad and didn't want to move. However, I could hear ol' Bessie moaning and groaning. I knew she was in terrible shape just by her groans. Shortly after the accident a highway patrolman came on the scene. He could hear Bessie moaning and groaning so he went over to her.
After he looked at her, he took out his gun and shot her between the eyes. Then the Patrolman came across the road with his gun in his hand and looked at me." He said, "Your mule was in such bad shape I had to shoot her. How are you feeling?
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Are You Included in the Following One Hundred?If we could shrink the Earth's population to a village of precisely 100 people, with all existing human ratios remaining the same, it would look like this:
There would be 57 Asians, 21 Europeans, 14 from the Americas (North and South) and 8 Africans.
51 would be female; 49 would be male.
70 would be non-white; 30 white.
70 would be non-Christian; 30 Christian.
50% of the entire world's wealth would be in the hands of only 6 people and all 6 would be citizens of the United States.
80 would live in substandard housing.
70 would be unable to read.
50 would suffer from malnutrition.
1 would be near death; 1 would be near birth.
Only 1 would have a college education.
No one would own a computer.
When one considers our world from such an incredibly compressed perspective, the need for both tolerance and understanding becomes glaringly apparent...
Courtesy the Parkinson's List
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Two Nuns Travelling in a CarTwo nuns, Sister Marilyn and Sister Helen, are traveling through Europe in their car. They get to Transylvania and are stopped at a traffic light.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a diminutive Dracula jumps onto the hood of the car and hisses through the windshield.
"Quick, quick!" shouts Sister Marilyn. "What shall we do?"
"Turn the windshield wipers on. That will get rid of the abomination," says Sister Helen.
Sister Marilyn switches them on, knocking Dracula about, but he clings on and continues hissing at the nuns. "What shall I do now?" she shouts.
"Switch on the windshield washer. I filled it up with Holy Water in the Vatican," says Sister Helen.
Sister Marilyn turns on the windshield washer. Dracula screams as the water burns his skin, but he clings on and continues hissing at the nuns.
"Now what?" shouts Sister Marilyn.
"Show him your cross," says Sister Helen.
"Now you're talking," says Sister Marilyn as she opens the window and shouts at the top of her lugs, "Get the hell off our f*ing car!"
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Syllable LessonThe first grade teacher was starting a new lesson on multi-syllable words. She thought it would be a good idea to ask a few of the children examples of words with more than one syllable.
"Jane, Do you know any multi-syllable words?"
"After some thought Jane proudly replied with Monday."
"Great Jane. That has two syllables, Mon......day"
"Does anyone know another word."
"I do! I do!" replied Johnny.
Knowing Johnny's more mature sense of humor she picks Mike instead.
"OK Mike, what is your word."
"Saturday." says Mike.
"Great, that has three syllables..."
Not wanting to be outdone Johnny says "I know a four syllable word. Pick me! Pick me!"
Not thinking he can do any harm with a word that large the teacher reluctantly says, "O.K. Johnny what is your four syllable word?"
Johnny proudly says, "Mas...tur...ba...tion." Shocked, the teacher, trying to retain her composure says, "Wow, Johnny. Four syllables! That's certainly is a mouthful."
"No Ma'am, your thinking of 'blowjob', and that's only two syllables."
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Little Johnny in the Maths Class
Little Johnny was sitting in class doing math problems when his teacher picked him to answer a question, "Johnny, if there were five birds sitting on a fence and you shot one with your gun, how many would be left"?
"None," replied Johnny, "cause the rest would fly away".
"Well, the answer is four," said the teacher, "but I like the way you're thinking".
Little Johnny says, "I have a question for you. If there were three women eating ice cream cones in a shop, one was licking her cone, the second was biting her cone and the third was sucking her cone, which one is married"?
"Well," said the teacher nervously, "I guess the one sucking the cone".
"No," said Little Johnny, "the one with the wedding ring on her finger, but I like the way you're thinking".
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A Very Short StoryA college class was told they had to write a short story in as few words as possible. The instructions were that the short story had to contain the following three things:
Below is the only A+ paper in the class.
"Good God, I'm pregnant, I wonder who the father is."
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How Hot is It in Hell?A thermodynamics professor had written a take home exam for his graduate students. It had one question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Support your answer with a proof.
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools off when it expands and heats up when it is compressed) or some variant.
One student, however, wrote the following: First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So, we need to know the rate that souls are moving into Hell and the rate they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Some of these religions state that if you are note member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there are more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all people and all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand as souls are added. This gives two possibilities.
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. Of course, if Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Ms Therese Banyan during my Freshman year, "That it will be a cold night in Hell before I sleep with you", and take into account the fact that I still have not succeeded in having sexual relations with her, then 2.cannot be true, and so Hell is exothermic.
The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct...leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting, "Oh my God."
The student got the only A.
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Darling Have You Ever Cheated on Me?Sam and Becky are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. Sam says to Becky, "Becky, I was wondering - have you ever cheated on me?" Becky replies, "Oh Sam, why would you ask such a question now? You don't want to ask that question..."
"Yes, Becky, I really want to know. Please..."
"Well, all right. Yes, 3 times..."
"Three? Well, when were they?" he asked.
"Well, Sam, remember when you were 35 years old and you really wanted to start the business on your own and no bank would give you a loan? Remember, then one day the bank president himself came over the house and signed the loan papers, no questions asked?"
"Oh, Becky, you did that for me! I respect you even more than ever, to do such a thing for me. So, when was number 2?"
"Well, Sam, remember when you had that last heart attack and you were needing that very tricky operation, and no surgeon would touch you? Then remember how Dr. DeBakey came all the way up here, to do the surgery himself, and then you were in good shape again?"
"I can't believe it! Becky, you should do such a thing for me, to save my l ife. I couldn't have a more wonderful wife. To do such a thing, you must really love me darling. I couldn't be more moved. So, all right then, when was number 3?"
"Well, Sam, remember a few years ago, when you really wanted to be president of the golf club and you were 17 votes short..?"
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Real Life CybersexWellhung: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like?
Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse and a miniskirt and high heels. My measurements are 36-24-36. I work out every day. I'm toned and perfect. What do you look like?
Wellhung: I'm 6'3" and about 250 pounds. I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweatpants I just bought at Walmart. I am also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner - it smells a little funny.
Sweetheart: I want you. Would you like to screw me?
Sweetheart: We're in my bedroom. There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table. I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.
Wellhung: I'm gulping. I'm beginning to sweat.
Sweetheart: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.
Wellhung: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse. My hands are trembling.
Sweetheart: I'm moaning softly.
Wellhung: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.
Sweetheart: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk slides off my warm skin. I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.
Wellhung: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and I accidently rip a hole in your blouse. I'm sorry.
Sweetheart: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive.
Wellhung: I'll pay for it.
Sweetheart: Don't worry about it. I'm wearing a lacy black bra. My soft breasts are rising and falling, rising and falling, as I breath harder and harder.
Wellhung: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra. I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors?
Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly. I'm reaching back and undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you.
Wellhung: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.
Sweetheart: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me.
Wellhung: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts. They're neat!
Sweetheart: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear.
Wellhung: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit.
Wellhung: I'm so sorry. Really.
Sweetheart: I'm wiping your spit off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.
Wellhung: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a plop.
Sweetheart: OK. I'm pulling your sweatpants down and rubbing your hard tool.
Wellhung: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!
Sweetheart: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take off my panties.
Wellhung: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out, nibbling on your ... umm ... wait a minute.
Sweetheart: What's the matter?
Wellhung: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking.
Sweetheart: Are you OK?
Wellhung: I'm having a coughing fit. I'm turning all red.
Sweetheart: Can I help?
Wellhung: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?
Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.
Wellhung: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better.
Sweetheart: Come back to me, lover.
Wellhung: I'm washing the cup now.
Sweetheart: I'm on the bed, aching for you.
Wellhung: I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark. I'm lost. Where's the bedroom.
Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.
Wellhung: I found it.
Sweetheart: I'm tugging off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly.
Wellhung: Me too.
Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately - our naked bodies pressing against each other.
Wellhung: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.
Sweetheart: Why don't you take off you glasses?
Wellhung: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table.
Sweetheart: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!
Wellhung: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.
Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover.
Wellhung: I find the bathroom. It's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid.
Sweetheart: I'm waiting eagerly for your return.
Wellhung: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh!
Sweetheart: What's the matter now?
Wellhung: I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.
Sweetheart: Mmm, yes. Come on.
Wellhung: OK, now I'm going to put my ... you know ... thing ... in your ... you know ... woman's thing.
Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!
Wellhung: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here.
Sweetheart: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand it another second! Slide it in! Screw me now!
Wellhung: I'm flaccid.
Wellhung: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection.
Sweetheart: I'm standing up and turning around, an incredulous look on my face.
Wellhung: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my weiner all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong.
Sweetheart: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet, nasty blouse.
Wellhung: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles.
Sweetheart: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes.
Wellhung: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of your candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.
Sweetheart: Go to hell. I'm logging off, you loser!
Wellhung: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh noooo!
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Qantas Aircraft MaintenanceAfter every flight, Qantas pilots fill out a form, called a "gripesheet," which tells mechanics about problems with the aircraft. The mechanics correct the problems, document their repairs on the form, and then pilots review the gripe sheets before the next flight.
Never let it be said that ground crews lack a sense of humor. Here are some actual maintenance complaints submitted by Qantas' pilots (marked with a P)
and the solutions recorded (marked with an S) by maintenance engineers. By the way, Qantas is the only major airline that has never had an accident.
P: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.
S: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.
P: Something loose in cockpit.
S: Something tightened in cockpit.
P: Dead bugs on windshield.
S: Live bugs on back-order.
P: Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent.
S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.
P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.
S: Evidence removed.
P: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.
S: Almost replaced left inside main tire.
P: DME volume unbelievably loud.
S: DME volume set to more believable level
P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.
S: That's what they're there for.
P: IFF inoperative.
S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.
P: Suspected crack in windshield.
S: Suspect you're right.
P: Number 3 engine missing.
S: Engine found on right wing after brief search
P: Aircraft handles funny. (I love this one!)
S: Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right, and be serious.
P: Target radar hums.
S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.
P: Mouse in cockpit.
S: Cat installed.
And the best one for last..................
P: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.
S: Took hammer away from midget
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