Finally, great alternative to body scanners at airports. The Israelis are developing an airport security device that eliminates the privacy concerns that come with full-body scanners at the airports. It’s a booth you can step into that will not X-ray you, but will detonate any explosive device you may have on you. They see this as a win-win for everyone, with none of this crap about racial profiling. It also would eliminate the costs of a long and expensive trial. Justice would be swift. Case closed! You're in the airport terminal and you hear a muffled explosion. Shortly thereafter an announcement comes over the PA system: "Attention standby passengers, we now have a seat available on flight number XXXX. Shalom!" Hats off to the Israelis!!!!

 

So a bear walks into a bar in Billings, Montana, sits down, and tries to order a beer. The bartender, used to this sort of thing (it is Montana after all), calmly explains,
"We don't serve beers to bears in bars in Billings, Montana."
The bear, being, well. . . a bear, says back to the bartender,
"You don't get it. I'm a Black Bear. 9 feet at the shoulders. Give me a damn beer!"
"We don't serve beers to bears in bars in Billings, Montana."
"Listen pal, you see that woman at the end of the bar? If you don't give me a motherfucking beer right now, I'm going to eat her in two bites. Chomp-Chomp-Gone. Like that. Got it?"
"We don't serve beers to bears in bars in Billings, Montana."
The Black Bear gets up, waddles over, knocks the woman out, claws off her clothes, and eats most of her innards within two bites. There's a bloody mess on the floor, and all but the heartiest of patrons has left the bar. The bear goes back and sits down.
"So, barkeep, are you going to give me a beer now?"
"We don't serve beers to bears in bars in Billings, Montana, and we don't use drugs."
"Don't use drugs?"
"That woman over there. . . that was a bar-bitch-u-ate."

 

An old golfer comes in from a round of golf at a new course and heads into the grill room. As he passes through the swinging doors he sees a sign hanging over the bar:

COLD BEER: $2.00
HAMBURGER: $2.25
CHEESEBURGER: $2.50
CHICKEN SANDWICH: $3.50
HAND JOB: $50.00

Checking his wallet to be sure he has the necessary payment, the old golfer walks up to the bar and beckons to the exceptionally attractive female bartender who is serving drinks to a couple of sun-wrinkled golfers. She glides down behind the bar to the old golfer. "Yes?" she inquires with a wide, knowing smile, "May I help you?" The old golfer leans over the bar and whispers, "I was wondering, young lady," he whispers, "are you the one who gives the hand jobs?" She looks into his eyes with that wide smile and purrs "Yes sir, I sure am." The old golfer leans closer and into her left ear and says softly "Well, wash your hands real fucking good because I want a cheeseburger."

 

Will need 2 do some joke reading soon

 

Did you get my PM?

 

COntuibues :accordingly:


What time is it when an Elephant sits on your fence?

































































Time 2 git a new fence

 

NO I just felt like editing the Title

Just teasin RB don't leave

 

[QUOTE=vtecmom,Nov 4 2010, 03:04 PM] NO I just felt like editing the Title

 

How did Pinocchio find out he was made of wood?























































His hand caught fire.

 

A while back, when I was considerably younger, I picked up a date at her parents' home. I'd scraped together some money to take her to a fancy restaurant. She ordered the most expensive items on the menu, shrimp cocktail, lobster, champagne. I asked her "Does your mother feed you like that when you eat at home?" "No," she replied, "but my mother's not expecting a blow job tonight."