KAREL'S CHEESE HOUSE

A boxer suffers from insomnia. A friend advises: "Try counting till you get asleep." Next day: "It didn't work: at 9 I always got up again."

Did you hear about the Scot who gave up golf?
He lost his ball.

Did you hear about the Scot who took up golf?
He found it.

I have a short penis, is there a device out there to help me?"
"Cut it off and send it in for examination."

Q: What's the definition of Australian foreplay?
A: "Are you awake Sheila?"

Q. How do Chinese mothers name their babies?
A. They throw some cutlery down the stairs and name them after the noise it makes.

Q. Why is there so little great [IYFEG] literature?
A. Spray paint wasn't invented until 1950.

The origin of the famous saying "A rose is a rose is a rose is a rose."

It seems that back in the days of the Roman empire, Nero and Cicero had estates on facing slopes of some hills, and both were avid growers of roses. Every year Nero's slope was covered in red roses, and Cicero's was covered in yellow roses.
Of course, being the masters of their houses, Nero and Cicero didn't actually work in the gardens. They had gardeners charged with seeing that the roses were always up to the standards of the estate.
One winter, Nero's head gardener was planting the rose bulbs for the next season. As he walked down the rows planting bulbs, he suddenly realized that he had been stepping on the last row he had planted. He didn't have enough bulbs to replace the ruined plants, so in the middle of the night he sneaked across the valley to Cicero's estate and stole enough bulbs to complete the planting on Nero's slope.
Well, fortunately for the gardener, he was called out of town around the time when the rose buds were about to open. He therefore wasn't in the reach of Nero's wrath when he noticed the one yellow line breaking up his beautiful red field.
Nero sent a note to his gardener asking about this unusual chromatic anomoly. It read: "Our roses arose. Is a row Cicero's?"

A golfer and his wife are playing and he slices his tee shot over behind a shed. After examining the situation, he concludes that if they open both the front and rear doors of the shed, he could play his second shot through the shed. He lines up and his wife goes to open the doors. As she is waiting, she wonders what is happening and peeks around the door. Unfortunately, just at that moment her husband hits and his ball strikes her squarely in the head, killing her instantly.

The distraught husband avoids golf for a year, but 5 years later he is remarried and happily playing golf again with his new wife. Oddly enough, he happens to slice on the same hole and lands in almost the same spot. His wife says, "Honey, if I open the front and back door of that shed, I think you could play through." He answers, "No, don't do that. The last time I tried that I took an 8 on this hole!"

There was a country club which didn't allow women on the golf course. Eventually, there was enough pressure that they decided to allow women on the course during the week.

The ladies were satisfied with this arrangement, formed a women's club, and became active. After about 6 months, the club board received a letter from the women's club complaining about the men urinating on the golf course. Naturally, they just ignored the matter. After another 6 months, they received another letter reminding them of the previous letter and demanding action. After due deliberation they sent the women a letter advising them that they had been granted equal privileges!

This woman lands at Logan Airport in Boston. She gets her luggage and jumps into a cab. She tells the cabbie, "Take me to a place where I can get scrod."

The cabbie turns around and says, "That's the first time I've heard that said in the pluperfect subjunctive."

Little Tommy walks into his primary school classroom one morning to be confronted by his teacher....

Miss: Ahh, Good Morning Tommy, and where were you yesterday?

Tommy: I'm sorry Miss, but my Grandad got burnt.

Miss: He wasn't too badly hurt was he?

Tommy: Oh aye Miss, they don't fuck around at these crematoriums you know.

Two old ladies were walking down the street one wintry day when they heard a voice calling for help. They looked around and saw a little green leg sticking out from beneath a snowbank, so one of the old ladies digs down and pulls out a very cold frog and starts warming it up in her hands. The frog says, "Oh thank you, thank you. I was freezing to death under that snowbank before you came along and saved me."

The old ladies are, of course, amazed by the fact that this frog can talk. The frog continues, "You know, I'm not actually a frog, and if you kiss me I'll turn back into a handsome prince."

The old lady nods at this but just slips the frog into her pocket. The other old lady looks puzzled and asks, "Well, aren't you going to kiss him and see if it works?"

The first old lady replies, "Certainly not! I can make a whole lot more money with a talking frog."

"HOW DID IT HAPPEN?" the doctor asked the middle-aged farmhand as he set the man's broken leg.

"Well, doc, 25 years ago ..."

"Never mind the past. Tell me how you broke your leg this morning."

"Like I was saying...25 years ago, when I first started working on the farm, that night, right after I'd gone to bed, the farmer's beautiful daughter came into my room. She asked me if there was anything I wanted.

I said no, everything is fine. "Are you sure?", she asked.
"I'm sure, I said.

"Isn't there anything I can do for you?" she wanted to know. "I reckon not" I replied ...

"Excuse me," said the doctor, "What does this story have to do with your leg?"

"Well, this morning," the farmhand explained, "when it dawned on me what she meant, I fell off the roof!"

Waitress: Would you like some buns with your melon?

Customer: No thank you, your melons will do just fine.

Waitress: Are you sure? These buns are firm and fresh-baked...

Customer: Well, they do look good...

Waitress: They'd taste even better with some nice sweet butter spread all over them.

Customer: Yes, I can imagine. But to tell you the truth, I think my own buns are better.

Waitress: Oh, really? Well perhaps you could show me the recipe sometime.

Customer: How about right now? Would you let me come in your kitchen?

Waitress: I'd love to.

A while back, there were two kingdoms situated close by each other. One kingdom had a powerful king, and the other had a relatively weak king. The difference (or so everybody said) was that the powerful king had a magic throne, which had the property of making people powerful.
Well, the weak king wanted this throne, so he had a trusted count get up an army (knights, pages, etc.) to fetch it.
The army trudged along for a day or two and came upon the powerful king's castle.
The castle entrance was guarded by a huge yellow monster with huge yellow hands. The army (being an army and all) attacked!
The huge Yellow Monster ate them all, except for two pages who did not engage in the fight. The pages, being very frightened, hid until nightfall.
When night came along, the pages peeked from their hiding place and saw that the monster was asleep. The only thing guarding the entrance now was the monster's huge hands draped in front of the opening. The pages, being only 8 years old and all, were able to squeeze through the yellow fingers and gain entrance into the castle.

Moral: let your pages do the walking through the yellow fingers.

Once inside the castle, the pages had no trouble finding the throne. Combined, they were just strong enough to lift it, and were able to carry it out of the castle. (The monster gave them no further trouble, since they had the throne and everything.)
After having walked half the night with the heavy throne between them, they were very tired and stopped at a grass house to rest. The farmer who lived there, wanting to steal the throne for himself, let them spend the night in the barn. The throne was "hid" in the farmer's attic.
Some hours later, the farmer stole into his barn and killed the pages.
The farmer went back to bed. A few minutes later, the throne crashed through the ceiling, crushing and killing the farmer and his wife.

Moral: people who live in grass houses shouldn't stow thrones.

When the powerful king found his throne missing the next day, he ordered HIS army to kidnap the other king's count and force him to tell where the throne was being hid. The session went as follows:

king: Where is the throne?
count: I cannot tell you.
king: Then I will have you killed! Executioner, cut off his head!
count: (as the axe is swinging down...)
Ok! I will tell you!
THWACK!!!

Moral: don't hatchet your counts before they chicken.