post some haha's


macrumors 6502a
Original poster
Oct 22, 2008
Toronto, Ont
Sorry for the caps, I copied and pasted this.














macrumors 601
Jan 14, 2002
totally cool
1. The roundest knight at King Arthur's round table was Sir Cumference. He acquired his size from too much pi.

2. I thought I saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island, but it turned out to be an optical Aleutian .

3. She was only a whiskey maker, but he loved her still.

4. A rubber band pistol was confiscated from algebra class because it was a weapon of math disruption.

5. No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.

6. A dog gave birth to puppies near the road and was cited for littering.

7. A grenade thrown into a kitchen in France would result in Linoleum Blownapart.

8. Two silk worms had a race. They ended up in a tie.

9. Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.

10. A hole has been found in the nudist camp wall. The police are looking into it.

11. Atheism is a non-prophet organization.

12. Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to the other, you stay here; I'll go on a head.

13. I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me..

14. A sign on the lawn at a drug rehab center said, 'Keep off the Grass.'

15. A small boy swallowed some coins and was taken to a hospital. When his grandmother telephoned to ask how he was, a nurse said, 'No change yet.'

16. A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion.

17. The short fortune-teller who escaped from prison was a small medium at large.

18. The soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray is now a seasoned veteran.

I'll be here all week. :D


macrumors 68020
Apr 7, 2008
Flea Bottom, King's Landing
10. A hole has been found in the nudist camp wall. The police are looking into it.
In related news: A rash of toilet seat thefts strikes police stations. Authorities have nothing to go on.

In funny true stories:

A visiting minister waxed eloquent during the offertory prayer. He began, with arms extended toward heaven and a rapturous look on his upturned face, "Without you we are but dust... "
At that very moment my daughter leaned over to me and asked, loud enough for the whole church to hear, "Daddy, what is butt dust?"


macrumors 68040
Feb 20, 2004
I only recently discovered this New Yorker cartoon:

(Does this count?)


macrumors 6502
Dec 31, 2008
Rio Rancho, NM
An older woman and a Doctor are walking down the hallway of a hospital.

As they pass by a room with an open door she looks in and sees a man masturbating furiously.

She gasps and asks the Doctor what the man is doing.

The Doctor tells the woman that the man suffers from a condition that cause him great pain if he does not relieve himself mutliple times and hour.

She accepts the Doctors reason and they continue on down the hall.

As they pass the next room she looks in and and sees a nurse performing oral sex on a man.

She asks the Doctor how he could possibly allow such deplorable behavior in his hospital.

The Doctor tells the woman that the man suffers from the same condition, he just has better health insurance.


macrumors 6502a
Original poster
Oct 22, 2008
Toronto, Ont
I was having trouble with my computer, so I called Jaden, the 9 year old next door, whose bedroom looks like Mission Control, and asked him to come over.

Jaden clicked a couple of buttons and solved the problem.

As he was walking away, I called after him, 'So, what was wrong?

He replied, 'It was an ID ten T error.'

I didn't want to appear stupid, but nonetheless inquired, 'An, ID
Ten T error? What's that? In case I need to fix it again.'

Jaden grinned. 'Haven't you ever heard of an ID ten T error

No,' I replied.

'Write it down,' he said, 'and I think you'll figure it Out.'

So I wrote down: I D 1 0 T

I used to like the little sh*t.


macrumors 604
Sep 8, 2002
The Netherlands

I shall remember that Id -Ten Tea error!! :D

EDIT (haha added):

I think was posted here somewhere before, but it fits in here perfectly:

- The Ryan's Steakhouse Story (you probably can fill in the *blanks*)

Now, I know that there is a lot of embellishment that occurs on this group and I am aware that a small number of things are perhaps sheer fabrication, but I have a story to tell that is the absolute truth.

Funniest damn thing that has ever happened to me. A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served. Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little bastards. It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.

We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar. Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you - in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated. Perhaps a bit too much, however.

I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food, I was in real trouble. There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first I thought it was only gas, which could have been passed in batches right at the table without too much concern.

Unfortunately, that was not to be. After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress... I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good ****. But in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal wire-cutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a ****.

I went to the normal stall. In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my ass was reaching Biblical portions. I began "The Move."

For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that can not be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones ass toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of **** at the exact same second that oneÕs ass is properly placed on the toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the piss stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer.

I was about halfway into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little bastards attending kids night. It was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall. Normally, I would not have been bothered by such a thing, but I had eaten so much and the pressure upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex. And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch.

What happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events is a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I can. In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end. To put a freeze frame on the situation, I was half crouched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus.

Now, most of you know that vomiting takes precedence over **** no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since ******** will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death. My attention was thus diverted. At that very split second, my ass exploded in what can only be described as a know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar. In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of **** the consistency of thick mud with #### pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my ass.

But remember, I was only halfway down on the toilet at that moment. The **** wave was of such force, and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat, that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall - at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initially hit the toilet seat. Then I sat down. Recall that when that event occurred, I was already halfway to sitting anyway and had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be. Needless to say, the **** wave, though of considerable force, was not so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls - unlike what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of **** remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.

Now, back to the vomit...

While all the ******** was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed. OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly-opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweatpants with elastic on the ankles. In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet. In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended. Yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in **** that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid ****. All while thick **** was spread all over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat.

And there was no ****ing toilet paper. What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left. At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.

About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help. Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to bring the car around so we could bolt immediately. Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers.

And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being. She left.

The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned. Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage of just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose. Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels.

Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed, in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little bastard kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way.

When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door.

The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.


macrumors 6502a
Dec 29, 2009
- The Ryan's Steakhouse Story (you probably can fill in the *blanks*)

Nicely written.

I can't imagine what I would do in that situation. Probably sit there panicking for a while. He's lucky his wife was there with him that night.


macrumors 604
Sep 8, 2002
The Netherlands
Funny too...

One day a mother was working in the kitchen and listening to her son playing with his new electric trains in the living room. She heard the train stop and her son said, "All of you sons of bitches who want off, get the hell off now because this is the last stop. All of you sons of bitches who are getting on, get your asses on the train now, because we're leaving."
The mother went into the living room and told her son, "We don't use that kind of language in this house. Now go to your room for two hours. When you come down, you may play with your trains as long as you use proper language."
Two hours later, the mother was still working in the kitchen when her son came out of his room and resumed playing with his trains. The train stopped and the mother heard, "All passengers who are disembarking the train, please remember to take all of your belongings. We thank you for riding with us today and hope your trip was a pleasant one. For those just boarding, we ask you to stow your hand luggage under the seat and we hope you enjoy your trip. For those of you who are pissed off about the two hour delay, please see the bitch in the kitchen."


Dec 12, 2007
^^ :D

Two Engineering students were walking across the campus, and one turns to the other and says "That's an awesome mountain bike you have!"

The other engineering student says, "Yeah I know; I was walking to trig class yesterday and this hot, tanned blonde with big boobs rode up right in front of me and threw it to ground. Then she tore off all her clothes and tossed them on the ground, licked her lips, and said 'Take what you want.'"

The first engineering student nodded in agreement. "I would have picked the bike too. The clothes probably wouldn't have fit."


macrumors 6502a
Jun 25, 2008
^^ haha :D

my haha:

Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers had driven across the country to see Disney World in Florida for a concert press interview..
As they approached it and got onto the final stretch of highway, they saw a sign saying "Disney World Left!"
After thinking for a minute, the driver blonde said "Oh well!" and started driving back home.



macrumors 6502
Sep 29, 2007
Edmond, Oklahoma
There once was a 5 year-old boy. His name was Little Timmy. At his age it is time for him to attend kindergarten school. But young Timmy didn’t want to go to school, and refused to his mother. In reply, little Timmy’s mom said, “I’ll tell you what. If you get straight A’s in your classes each marking period, I will give you whatever you want. Little Timmy, loving his bargain, went straight to school that morning.

That marking period, Little Timmy’s mother checked his grades. To her enjoyment, she found he had gotten all A’s. She then said to Little Timmy, “What do you want as your gift?” Now, Little Timmy thought a moment. He then said to his mother, “I want a Ping Pong ball.” Puzzled, Little Timmy’s mother agreed, and bought him a Ping Pong ball. The next marking period, Little Timmy had gotten A’s again. His mother asked him again, “What do you want as your gift?” Now, Little Timmy thought a moment. He then said to his mother, “I want 2 Ping Pong balls.” Puzzled still, Little Timmy’s mother agreed, and bought him 2 Ping Pong balls.

Throughout his time in Kindergarten, he requested more and more Ping Pong balls. On his final marking period, he had gotten straight A’s once more. This time, Little Timmy wanted just 1 Ping Pong ball, painted red. Little Timmy’s Mother went out and boguht him a red Ping Pong ball. Finally, she asked Little Timmy, “Why do you ask for so many Ping Pong balls?” Now, little Timmy thought a moment. He then said to his mother, “Give me until the end of Elementary school, and I will tell you.”

Hesitantly, his mother agreed. Throughout the course of the years of Elementary, he asked for a variety of colored ping pong balls. Some red, some yellow, some blue, some even black. On his final marking period of 4th grade, Little Timmy wanted 10 Ping Pong balls. 1 red, 2 green, 3 brown, and 4 grey. After giving him his gift, she then asked Little Timmy, “Why have you been asking for Ping Pong balls?” Now, Little Timmy thought a moment. He then said, “Give me until the end of Middle School, and I will tell you.” With a long sigh, she agreed.

Throughout those years he excelled through his grades. He asked for big Ping Pong balls, small Ping Pong balls, but never regular shaped. Finally, his graduation to High School began. He asked for 50 white Ping Pong balls. After getting his balls, she asked him, “Why have always asked for Ping Pong balls?” Now, Little Timmy thought a moment. He then said, “Give me until the end of High School, and I will tell you.” Resentfully, she agreed.

Years passed from then. Little Timmy asked for many different balls. Big blue ones, small brown ones, yellow broken ones, and white tiny ones. Little Timmy had now graduated from High School. He was given a scholarship to Harvard University. This time, he asked for just one Ping Pong ball. His mother got him the ball he wanted, and asked, “Why have you asked for Ping Pong balls all these years?!” Now, Little Timmy thought a moment. He then said to his mother, “I will tell you. But let me tell my girl friend first. Happily, his mother Agreed. Little Timmy began crossing the street to his girl friend’s house. Out of nowhere a truck ran him over, killing him.


macrumors 68040
Mar 27, 2009
Seattle, WA
As an airplane is about to crash a female passenger jumps up frantically and announces, “If I’m going to die, I want to die feeling like a woman.” She removes all her clothes and asks, “Is there someone on this plane who is man enough to make me feel like a woman?” A man stands up, removes his shirt and says, “Here, iron this.”


macrumors 68020
Sep 3, 2004
London, UK
A Minneapolis couple decided to go to Florida to thaw out during a particularly icy winter. They planned to stay at the same hotel where they spent their honeymoon 20 years earlier.
Because of hectic schedules, it was difficult to coordinate their travel schedules. So, the husband left Minnesota and flew to Florida on Thursday, with his wife flying down the following day.

The husband checked into the hotel. There was a computer in his room, so he decided to send an e-mail to his wife. However, he accidentally left out one letter in her e-mail address, and without realizing his error, sent the email

Meanwhile, in Houston, a widow had just returned home from her husband's funeral. He was a minister who was called home to glory following a heart attack.

The widow decided to check her e-mail, expecting messages from relatives and friends. After reading the first message, she gasped and fainted.

The widow's son rushed into the room, found his mother on the floor and saw the computer screen which read:

To: My Loving Wife
Subject: I've Arrived
Date: October 16, 2009

I know you're surprised to hear from me. They have computers here now and you are allowed to send e-mails to your loved ones.

I just arrived and I've checked in.

I've seen that everything has been prepared for your arrival tomorrow. Looking forward to seeing you then! Hope your journey is as uneventful as mine was.

P. S. It sure is hot down here!


macrumors 6502a
Original poster
Oct 22, 2008
Toronto, Ont
During one of her daily classes, a teacher trying to teach
good manners, asked her students the following question:

'Michael, if you were on a date having dinner with a nice young lady, how would you tell her that you have to go to the bathroom?'

Michael said: 'Just a minute I have to go pee. The teacher responded by saying: 'That would be rude and impolite. What about you Sherman, how would you say it?'

Sherman said: 'I am sorry, but I really need to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back.'

'That's better, but it's still not very nice to say the word bathroom at the dinner table.
And you, little Johnny, can you use your brain for once and show us your good manners?'

Johnny said 'I would say: Darling, may I please be excused for a moment? I have to shake hands with a very dear friend of mine, whom I hope to introduce you to after dinner.'

The teacher escorted Johnny to the Principals office...


macrumors 68020
Apr 7, 2008
Flea Bottom, King's Landing
I love little Johnny jokes.:)

Here's another one:
One day the teacher brought a bag full of fruits to class. "Now class, I'm going to reach into the bag and describe a piece of fruit, and you tell what fruit I'm talking about. Okay, first: it's round, plumb and red."

Johnny raised his hand high, but the teacher, ignored him and picked Deborah. "An apple," she said. The teacher replied, "No Deborah, it's a beet, but I like your thinking. Now for the second. It's soft, fuzzy, and colored red and brownish."

Again Johnny raises his hand, but she skips him and calls on Billy. "Is it a peach?" Billy asks. "No, Billy, I'm afraid it's a potato. But I like your thinking," the teacher replies. "Here's another: it's long, yellow, and fairly hard."

Johnny jumps up and down on his seat, waving his hand. The teacher skips him again and calls on Sally. "A banana," she says. "No," the teacher replies, "it's a squash, but I like your thinking."

Johnny is kind of irritated now, so he speaks up loudly. "Hey, I've got one for you teacher; let me put my hand in my pocket. Okay, I've got it: it's round, hard, and it got a head on it." "Johnny!" she cries. "That's disgusting!" "Nope," answers Johnny, "it's a quarter, but I like your thinking!"

Here's an oldie, but goodie. Like the little Johnny jokes, it's intended for more mature audiences.

A good looking widow places an ad in the paper stating that who ever can climb the greased flagpole in her back yard will get reward. But those who fail will suffer the consequences. The reward is a roll in the hay with the hot widow.
Three boys arrive at her house the next day waving the ad. She takes them to the back yard, where the first boy climbs half way up before sliding down. She askes him what his father does for a living. "A Butcher," he replied. She instructed him to whip out his johnson, which she proceeds to cut off with a butcher's knife.
The second boy makes it 3/4 of the way up before sliding down. Again she askes what his father does for a living. "A tailor," he stated. She cuts off his johnson with a pair of scissors.
The final boy almost makes it to the top, but slides down before reaching his goal. Once more, she asked what his father does for a living. "He's a lollipop maker," he said proudly. "What are you gonna do? Lick it off?"


macrumors 6502a
Original poster
Oct 22, 2008
Toronto, Ont
These are from a book called Disorder in the American Courts, and are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters that had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were actually taking place.

ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active?
WITNESS: No, I just lie there.

ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS: I forget.
ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?

ATTORNEY: Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in voodoo?
WITNESS: We both do.
WITNESS: Yes, voodoo.

ATTORNEY: Now doctor, "isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?"
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?

ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?
WITNESS: He's twenty, much like your IQ.

ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Are you ******** me?

ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?
ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS: Getting laid

ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?
ATTORNEY: How many were boys?
ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?
WITNESS: Your Honor, I think I need a different attorney.
Can I get a new attorney?

ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS: By death.
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?
WITNESS: Take a guess.

ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?
WITNESS: He was about 20, medium height, and had a beard.
ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?
WITNESS: Unless the Circus was in town I'm going with male.

ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?
WITNESS: All of them. The live ones put up too much of a fight.

ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK?
What school did you go to?

ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
ATTORNEY: And, Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: If not, he was by the time I finished.

ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
WITNESS: Are you qualified to ask that question?

And the best for last:

ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.


macrumors 68040
Mar 27, 2009
Seattle, WA
The finals of the National Poetry Contest last year came down to two finalists. One was a Duke University Law School graduate. The other finalist was a redneck from Southeast Alabama A&M.
The rules of the contest required each finalist to compose a four-line poem in one minute or less, and the poem had to contain the word "Timbuktu". The Duke graduate went first.
About thirty seconds after the clock started he jumped up and recited the following poem:
Slowly across the desert sand,
Trekked the dusty caravan.
Men on camels, two by two

The audience went wild!!! How, they wondered, could the redneck top that?!
The clock started again and the redneck sat in silent thought. Finally, in the last few seconds, he jumped and recited:
Tim and me, a-huntin' went.
Met three whores in a pop-up tent.
They was three, we was two,
So I bucked one and Timbuktu.


Dec 12, 2007
An old man was in the hospital recuperating from a stroke. He was feeling down in the dumps about it, and his family wanted to cheer him up. So, his grandson hires a stripper to sneak into his room one night.

The stripper slinks up to the bedside, scooches up to him as close as possible and in the sexiest of voices whispers, "I'm here to give you super sex!"

The old man stutters in disbelief, and remembering his stroke, says "I... I think I'd better stick with the soup."