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Lunacy Jokes
- Thread starter Reflections
- Start date
Sixstringsmash
Where am I?
A little nerdy one here:
There are 10 types of people in the world. Those who know binary and those who don't
There are 10 types of people in the world. Those who know binary and those who don't
GreenHopper
20 going on 60
My wife has started her own business reading Tarot cards.
She's making a fortune
She's making a fortune
GreenHopper
20 going on 60
These 30 Sentences Were Actually Found In Patients Hospital Charts
GreenHopper
20 going on 60
Concerned Husband
A concerned husband went to a doctor to talk about his wife.
He says to the doctor, “Doctor, I think my wife is deaf because she never hears me the first time and always asks me to repeat things.”
“Well,” the doctor replied, “go home and tonight stand about 15 feet from her and say something to her. If she doesn’t reply move about 5 feet closer and say it again. Keep doing this so that we’ll get an idea about the severity of her deafness.”
Sure enough, the husband goes home and does exactly as instructed. He starts off standing about 15 feet from his wife in the kitchen as she is chopping some vegetables and says, “Honey, what’s for dinner?”
He hears no response. He moves about 5 feet closer and asks again. No reply. He moves 5 feet closer. Still no reply.
He gets fed up and moves right behind her, about an inch away, and asks loudly, “Honey, what’s for dinner?”
She replies, “For the fourth fucking time, vegetable stew!”
A concerned husband went to a doctor to talk about his wife.
He says to the doctor, “Doctor, I think my wife is deaf because she never hears me the first time and always asks me to repeat things.”
“Well,” the doctor replied, “go home and tonight stand about 15 feet from her and say something to her. If she doesn’t reply move about 5 feet closer and say it again. Keep doing this so that we’ll get an idea about the severity of her deafness.”
Sure enough, the husband goes home and does exactly as instructed. He starts off standing about 15 feet from his wife in the kitchen as she is chopping some vegetables and says, “Honey, what’s for dinner?”
He hears no response. He moves about 5 feet closer and asks again. No reply. He moves 5 feet closer. Still no reply.
He gets fed up and moves right behind her, about an inch away, and asks loudly, “Honey, what’s for dinner?”
She replies, “For the fourth fucking time, vegetable stew!”
Reflections
Member
A Man's Age according to Home Depot !
You are in the middle of some home projects: putting in a new fence,
painting the porch, planting some flowers and fixing a broken door lock.
You are hot and sweaty, covered with dirt, lawn clippings and paint. You
have your old work clothes on. You know the outfit -- shorts with a hole
in the crotch, an old T-shirt with a stain from who-knows-what, and an old
pair of tennis shoes.
Right in the middle of these tasks you realize that you need to run to Home
Depot for supplies.
Depending on your age you might do the following:
In your 20s:
Stop what you are doing. Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush
your teeth, floss and put on clean clothes.
Check yourself in the mirror and flex. Add a dab of your favorite cologne
because, you never know, you just might meet some hot chick while standing
in the checkout line.
And yes, you went to school with the pretty girl running the register.
In your 30s:
Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change your shoes.
You married the hot chick so no need for much else.
Wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. Still
got it! Add a shot of your favorite cologne to cover the smell.
The cute girl running the register is the kid sister of someone you went to
school with.
In your 40s:
Stop what you are doing. Put on a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover
the hole in the crotch of your shorts.
Put on different shoes and a hat. Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brut is
almost empty, so don't waste any of it on a trip to Home Depot.
Check yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing.
The hot young thing running the register is your daughter's age and you feel
weird about thinking she's spicy.
In your 50s:
Stop what you are doing. Put on a hat. Wipe the dirt off your hands onto
your shirt. Change shoes because you don't want to get dog crap in your
new sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and swear not to wear that
shirt anymore because it makes you look fat.
The cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think
you still have it. Then you remember -- the hat you have on is from Bubba's
Bait & Beer Bar and it says, 'I Got Worms '
In your 60s:
Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat any more. Hose the dog crap off
your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your 50s.
You hope you have underwear on so nothing hangs out the hole in your pants.
The girl running the register may be cute but you don't have your glasses
on, so you're not sure.
In your 70s:
Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to Home Depot until you call the drug
store to have your prescriptions ready for pick up too and check your
grocery list for a quick stop there. Got to save trips! Don't even notice
the dog crap on your shoes.
The young thing at the register stares at you and you realize your balls are
hanging out the hole in your crotch... who cares.
In your 80s:
Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you remember
you need to go to Home Depot. You go to Wal-Mart instead. You went to
school with the old lady greeter.
You wander around trying to remember what you are looking for. Then you fart
out loud and turn around thinking someone called your name.
In your 90s & beyond:
What's a home deep hoe? Something for my garden? Where am I? Who am I?
Why am I reading this?
You are in the middle of some home projects: putting in a new fence,
painting the porch, planting some flowers and fixing a broken door lock.
You are hot and sweaty, covered with dirt, lawn clippings and paint. You
have your old work clothes on. You know the outfit -- shorts with a hole
in the crotch, an old T-shirt with a stain from who-knows-what, and an old
pair of tennis shoes.
Right in the middle of these tasks you realize that you need to run to Home
Depot for supplies.
Depending on your age you might do the following:
In your 20s:
Stop what you are doing. Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush
your teeth, floss and put on clean clothes.
Check yourself in the mirror and flex. Add a dab of your favorite cologne
because, you never know, you just might meet some hot chick while standing
in the checkout line.
And yes, you went to school with the pretty girl running the register.
In your 30s:
Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change your shoes.
You married the hot chick so no need for much else.
Wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. Still
got it! Add a shot of your favorite cologne to cover the smell.
The cute girl running the register is the kid sister of someone you went to
school with.
In your 40s:
Stop what you are doing. Put on a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover
the hole in the crotch of your shorts.
Put on different shoes and a hat. Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brut is
almost empty, so don't waste any of it on a trip to Home Depot.
Check yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing.
The hot young thing running the register is your daughter's age and you feel
weird about thinking she's spicy.
In your 50s:
Stop what you are doing. Put on a hat. Wipe the dirt off your hands onto
your shirt. Change shoes because you don't want to get dog crap in your
new sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and swear not to wear that
shirt anymore because it makes you look fat.
The cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think
you still have it. Then you remember -- the hat you have on is from Bubba's
Bait & Beer Bar and it says, 'I Got Worms '
In your 60s:
Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat any more. Hose the dog crap off
your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your 50s.
You hope you have underwear on so nothing hangs out the hole in your pants.
The girl running the register may be cute but you don't have your glasses
on, so you're not sure.
In your 70s:
Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to Home Depot until you call the drug
store to have your prescriptions ready for pick up too and check your
grocery list for a quick stop there. Got to save trips! Don't even notice
the dog crap on your shoes.
The young thing at the register stares at you and you realize your balls are
hanging out the hole in your crotch... who cares.
In your 80s:
Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you remember
you need to go to Home Depot. You go to Wal-Mart instead. You went to
school with the old lady greeter.
You wander around trying to remember what you are looking for. Then you fart
out loud and turn around thinking someone called your name.
In your 90s & beyond:
What's a home deep hoe? Something for my garden? Where am I? Who am I?
Why am I reading this?
GreenHopper
20 going on 60
In Catholic schools students are taught that lying is a sin.
instructors are also advised that using a bit of imagination is OK to express the truth differently without lying.
This is a perfect example of this teaching:
Getting a Hairdryer Through Customs.....
An attractive young woman on a flight from Ireland asked the priest beside her, 'Father, may I ask a favour?'
Of course child. What can I do for you?'
I bought my Mother an expensive hair dryer for her birthday. It is unopened but well over the customs limits and I'm
afraid they'll confiscate it. Is there any way you could carry it through customs for me? Could you possibly hide it under your robes for me?'
'I would love to help you my dear but, I must warn you, I will not
tell a lie.'
'With your honest face, Father, I'm sure that no one will question you.'
When they got to customs, she let the priest go first.
The official asked, 'Father, do you have anything to declare?'
'From the top of my head down to my waist I have nothing to declare.'
The official thought this answer a little strange, so he asked, 'And what do you have to declare from your waist to the floor?'
'I have a marvelous instrument that has been designed for use on women, but which, to date, remains unused.'
Roaring with laughter, the official said, 'Go ahead, Father.
Next please.....
instructors are also advised that using a bit of imagination is OK to express the truth differently without lying.
This is a perfect example of this teaching:
Getting a Hairdryer Through Customs.....
An attractive young woman on a flight from Ireland asked the priest beside her, 'Father, may I ask a favour?'
Of course child. What can I do for you?'
I bought my Mother an expensive hair dryer for her birthday. It is unopened but well over the customs limits and I'm
afraid they'll confiscate it. Is there any way you could carry it through customs for me? Could you possibly hide it under your robes for me?'
'I would love to help you my dear but, I must warn you, I will not
tell a lie.'
'With your honest face, Father, I'm sure that no one will question you.'
When they got to customs, she let the priest go first.
The official asked, 'Father, do you have anything to declare?'
'From the top of my head down to my waist I have nothing to declare.'
The official thought this answer a little strange, so he asked, 'And what do you have to declare from your waist to the floor?'
'I have a marvelous instrument that has been designed for use on women, but which, to date, remains unused.'
Roaring with laughter, the official said, 'Go ahead, Father.
Next please.....
Dynalowrider
Member
The CDC has released a warning for the expected outbreak of a *STD in 2020. No matter which side of the political fence you are on, this could be catastrophic to all those involved. Please heed these warnings with due caution. This *STD is known as Gonorrhea Lectim. This disease will run rampant in the South and Midwest parts of the country. In 2020 please take note of the last four years of “Tweets”, to realize how insidious this disease is.
*STD “Stupid Trump Disease”
*STD “Stupid Trump Disease”
Last edited:
Reflections
Member
The pastor asked if anyone in the congregation would like to express praise
for answered prayers.
Suzie Smith stood and walked to the podium. She said, "I have a praise. Two
months ago, my husband, Tom, had a terrible bicycle wreck and his scrotum
was completely crushed. The pain was excruciating and the doctors didn't
know if they could help him."
(You could hear a muffled gasp from the men in the congregation as they
imagine the pain that poor Tom must have experienced.)
"Tom was unable to hold me or the children," she went on, "and every move
caused him terrible pain. We prayed as the doctors performed a delicate
operation, and it turned out they were able to piece together the crushed
remnants of Tom's scrotum, and wrap wire around it to hold it in place."
(Again, the men in the congregation cringed and squirm uncomfortably as they
imagined the horrible surgery performed on Tom.)
"Now," she announced in a quivering voice, "Thank the Lord; Tom is out of
the hospital and the doctors say that with time, his scrotum should recover
completely."
(All the men sighed with unfeigned relief.)
The pastor rose and tentatively asked if anyone else had something to say.
A man slowly stood up and walked just as slowly to the podium.
He said, "I'm Tom Smith." The entire congregation held its breath. "I just
want to tell my wife -- the word is sternum."
for answered prayers.
Suzie Smith stood and walked to the podium. She said, "I have a praise. Two
months ago, my husband, Tom, had a terrible bicycle wreck and his scrotum
was completely crushed. The pain was excruciating and the doctors didn't
know if they could help him."
(You could hear a muffled gasp from the men in the congregation as they
imagine the pain that poor Tom must have experienced.)
"Tom was unable to hold me or the children," she went on, "and every move
caused him terrible pain. We prayed as the doctors performed a delicate
operation, and it turned out they were able to piece together the crushed
remnants of Tom's scrotum, and wrap wire around it to hold it in place."
(Again, the men in the congregation cringed and squirm uncomfortably as they
imagined the horrible surgery performed on Tom.)
"Now," she announced in a quivering voice, "Thank the Lord; Tom is out of
the hospital and the doctors say that with time, his scrotum should recover
completely."
(All the men sighed with unfeigned relief.)
The pastor rose and tentatively asked if anyone else had something to say.
A man slowly stood up and walked just as slowly to the podium.
He said, "I'm Tom Smith." The entire congregation held its breath. "I just
want to tell my wife -- the word is sternum."
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