Bubba

Bubba died in a fire and was burned pretty bad and the morgue needed someone to identify the body. So his two best friends, Daryl and Gomer, were sent for.

Daryl went in and the mortician pulled back the sheet. Daryl said, "Yup, he's burnt pretty bad. Roll him over."

So the mortician rolled him over and Daryl looked and said, "Nope, ain't Bubba."

The mortician thought that was rather strange. Then he brought Gomer in to identify the body. Gomer took a look at him and said, "Yup, he's burnt real bad, roll him over."

The mortician rolled him over and Gomer looked down and said, "No, it ain't Bubba."

The mortician asked, "How can you tell?"

Gomer said, "Well, Bubba had two assholes."

"What? He had two assholes?" said the mortician.

"Yup, everyone in town knew he had two assholes. Every time we went to town, folks would say, "Here comes Bubba with them two assholes."

Blonde Painter

This blonde decides one day that she is sick and tired of all these blonde jokes and how all blondes are perceived as stupid, so she decides to show her husband that blondes really are smart. While her husband is off at work, she decides that she is going to paint a couple of rooms in the house.

The next day, right after her husband leaves for work, she gets down to the task at hand.

Her husband arrives home at 5:30 and smells the distinctive smell of paint. He walks into the living room and finds his wife lying on the floor in a pool of sweat. He notices that she is wearing a ski jacket and a fur coat at the same time.

He goes over and asks her if she is ok. She replies yes. He asks what she is doing. She replies that she wanted to prove to him that not all blonde women are dumb and she wanted to do it by painting the house.

He then asks her why she has a ski jacket over her fur coat. She replies that she was reading the directions on the paint can and they said....

FOR BEST RESULTS, PUT ON TWO COATS.

The Morning Song

I woke early one morning,
The earth lay cool and still
When suddenly a tiny bird
Perched on my window sill,
He sang a song so lovely
So carefree and so gay,
That slowly all my troubles
Began to slip away.
He sang of far off places
Of laughter and of fun,
It seemed his very trilling,
Brought up the morning sun.
I stirred beneath the covers
Crept slowly out of bed,
Then gently lowered the window
And crushed his fucking head.
I'm not a morning person.

Previous Page | Next Page