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Astrodome
22nd Sep 2005, 22:56
Irish Wage War on Iraq
Saddam Hussein was sitting in his office wondering where to hide his weapons next when his telephone rang.

"Hallo, Mr. Hussein!", a heavily accented voice said. "This is Paddy down at the Harp Pub in County Sligo, Ireland. I am ringing to inform you that we are officially declaring war on you!

"Well, Paddy," Saddam replied, "This is indeed important news! How big is your army?"

"Right now," said Paddy, after a moment's calculation, "there is myself, my cousin Sean, my next door neighbour Seamus, and the entire dart team from the pub. That makes eight!"

Saddam paused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have one million men in my army waiting to move on my command."

"Begorra!", said Paddy. "I'll have to ring you back!"

Sure enough, the next day, Paddy called again. "Mr. Hussein, the war is still on! We have managed to acquire some infantry equipment!"

"And what equipment would that be, Paddy?" Saddam asked.

"Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy's farm tractor."

Saddam sighed. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 16,000 tanks and 14,000 armoured personnel carriers. Also, I've increased my army to 1-1/2 million since we last spoke."

"Saints preserve us!" said Paddy. "I'll have to get back to you."

Sure enough, Paddy rang again the next day.

"Mr. Hussein, the war is still on! We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We've modified Harrigan's ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four boys from the Shamrock Pub have joined us as well!"

Saddam was silent for a minute and then cleared his throat. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 1,000 bombers and 2,000 fighter planes. My military complex is surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last spoke, I've increased my army to TWO MILLION!"

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!", said Paddy, "I'll have to ring you back."

Sure enough, Paddy called again the next day.

"Top o' the mornin', Mr. Hussein! I am sorry to tell you that we have had to call off the war."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Saddam. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Well," said Paddy, "we've all had a long chat over a bunch of pints, and decided there's no FECKIN way we can feed two million prisoners."

niknak
22nd Sep 2005, 23:16
The worst thing in the world must be to be an egg;

You only get laid once.

You only get smashed once,

and

The only bird who will sit on your face is your mother.....

planepsycho
23rd Sep 2005, 00:14
Once upon a time there lived a king. The king had a beautiful daughter, the princess. But there was a problem. Everything the princess touched would melt. No mater what; metal, wood, stone, anything she touched would melt. Because of this men were afraid of her. Nobody would dare marry her. The king despaired. What could he do to help his daughter? He consulted his wizards and magicians. One wizard told the king, "If your daughter touches ONE thing that does not melt in her hands, she will be cured."

The king was overjoyed and came up with a plan. The next day, he held a competition. Any man thought could bring his daughter an object that would not melt would marry her and inherit the king's wealth.

THREE YOUNG PRINCES TOOK UP THE CHALLENGE. The first brought a sword of the finest steel ... But alas, when the princess touched it, it melted. The prince went away sadly. The second prince brought diamonds. He thought diamonds are the hardest substance in the world and would not melt. But alas, once the princess touched them, they melted. He, too, was sent away disappointed :-(

The third prince approached. He told the princess, "Put your hand in my pocket and feel what is in there." The princess did as she was told. She felt something hard. She held it in her hand. AND IT DID NOT MELT!!!

The king was overjoyed. Everybody in the kingdom was overjoyed. And the third prince married the princess and they lived happily ever after.

What was in the prince's pants? :-o








M&M's, of course. They melt in your mouth, not in your hand. :-)

Jordan D
23rd Sep 2005, 00:30
niknak - good to see you were watching the Jack Dee show earlier this week.

Speaking of which:

Q. Which key opens all locks?












A. A Pi-key.

*gets coat and leaves*

Jordan

Arm out the window
23rd Sep 2005, 02:47
A blonde and a brunette are watching the 6 o'clock news where there's some footage of a man standing on a window ledge on a high building who looks like he's thinking about jumping.
The brunette, who has seen the previous bulletin and knows what happens, says
'I bet you $20 he jumps'
'Bet he doesn't - you're on!', the blonde replies.
Sure enough, after a while he jumps and plummets to his death.
The blonde is getting her purse out ready to pay up when the brunette has a conscience attack and says:
'Look, I can't take your money, I saw this before on the 5 o'clock news and I knew he was going to do it.'
To which the blonde replies,
'No, go on, take it; I saw it too, but I didn't think he'd go through with it this time!'.

RJM
23rd Sep 2005, 03:36
Sound medical advice

Guy goes to doctor about his sore neck.

'Whenever I do this,' he says to the doctor, pausing to windmill both arms around in their sockets for 10 seconds or so, 'It hurts across here,' he adds, indicating the back of his neck.

'Well, don't do it,' says the doctor.

Arm out the window
23rd Sep 2005, 07:39
Another bloke goes to the doctor and says 'Doc, it really hurts when I stand on one leg, bend over, jump around a bit, hop onto the other leg, jump around some more and then straighten up.'
The doctor laughs and says 'Well my good man, don't do it then!
The man replies 'How the hell else do you expect me to get my trousers on?'

Boom boom

airhead10
23rd Sep 2005, 08:29
I know it's not strictly a joke - but I was in tears of laughter reading this and had to pass it on...........

The Squirrel

I never dreamed that slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous!

Little did I suspect.

I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me.

It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.

Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of spectacular...

He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack.

Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!

Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing...

I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.

That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home.

No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel.

This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!

Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather antisocial and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all.

His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result.

TORQUE.

This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared and the front heel left the pavement.

The squirrel screamed in anger.

The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy.

I screamed in... well... I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back.

The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike.

This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle... my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.

About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me.

As the face plate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity.

It had little effect on the squirrel, however. The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment), so her front end started to drop.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now, the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.

Finally I got the upper hand... I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could.

This time it worked ... sort of.

Spectacularly sort of ..so to speak.

Picture a new scene.

You are a cop.

You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.

Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.

I heard screams.

They weren't mine...

I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street.

I would have returned to 'fess up' (and to get my glove back). I really would have.

Really...

Except for two things.

First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street, aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car.

So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway.

That was one thing.

The other?

Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me.

That is one dangerous squirrel.

And now he has a patrol car.

A somewhat shredded patrol car... but it was all his.

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a whole lot of Band-Aids.

TURIN
23rd Sep 2005, 09:51
Two Irish hunters got a pilot to fly them to Canada to hunt moose.

They bagged six. As they started loading the plane for the return trip, the pilot said the plane could take only four moose.
The two lads objected strongly.
"Last year we shot six, and the pilot let us put them all on
board; he had the same plane as yours."

Reluctantly, the pilot gave in and all six were loaded. However, even with full power, the little plane couldn't handle the load and went down a few moments after take-off.

Climbing out of the wreckage, Paddy asked Seamus,
"Any idea where we are?"
"Bejasus, I think we're pretty close to where we crashed last year."

RaraAvis
23rd Sep 2005, 11:36
airhead10

Brilliant! :ok: Still wiping the tears of laughter...:D

lasernigel
23rd Sep 2005, 12:08
A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp, "Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep widdle wabbits?" As the shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his knees, so that he's on her level, and asks, "Do you want a widdle white wabby or a thoft and fuwwy bwack wabby or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabby over there?" She, in turn blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet voice, "I don't fink my pet python weally gives a thit.

lexxity
23rd Sep 2005, 12:14
A man sitting next to a beautiful blonde on a plane looked over to see her seemingly in shock from the headline in the newspaper she was holding, which read:
"12 Brazilian Soldiers Killed in Riots."








She turned toward him and with trembling voice asked, "How many is a brazilian?"

frostbite
23rd Sep 2005, 19:01
A chap's girlfriend tells him she wants to break up with him, but won't tell him why.

He protests that they have been together for years and that surely she owes him an explanation.

Eventually, she gives in and explains it's because he is so uncouth.

'Uncouth, uncouth ? . He replies. 'I take you to the opera and ballet and all that bleedin' shit'.

The Real Slim Shady
23rd Sep 2005, 19:40
Jeff walks into a bar and sees his friend Paul slumped over the bar. He walks over and asks Paul what's wrong.

"Well," replies Paul, "You know that beautiful girl at work that I wanted to ask out, but I got an erection every time I saw her?"

"Yes," replies Jeff with a laugh.

"Well," says Paul, straightening up, "I finally worked up the courage to ask her out, and she agreed."

"That's great!" says Jeff, "When are you going out?"

"I went to meet her this evening," continues Paul, "but I was worried I'd get an erection again. So I got some duct tape and taped "it" to my leg, so if I did, it wouldn't show".

"Sensible" says Jeff.

"So I get to her door," says Paul, "and I rang her doorbell. She answered it in the sheerest, sexiest, dress you ever saw."

"And what happened then?"

"I kicked her in the face."

scraglad
23rd Sep 2005, 22:24
A guy walk's into a bar and said "OUCH"

It was an iron bar!!! :}

Tarnished
24th Sep 2005, 01:30
A termite walk into a bar and asks:

"Is the Bar Tender here?"

pigboat
24th Sep 2005, 02:22
Lang syne this hasn't graced these pages.

Tae A Fert

Oh what a sleekit horrible beastie
Lurks in yer belly after the feastie.
Just as ye sit doon among yer kin,
There sterts tae stir an enormous wind.

The neeps and tatties and mushie peas
Stert workin' like a gentle breeze.
But soon tha' puddin' wi' the sauncie face
Will have ye blawin' all ower the place.

Nae matter whit the hell ye dae
A'bodys gonnae have tae pay.
Even if ye try tae stifle,
It's like a bullet oot a rifle.

Hawd yer bum tight tae the chair
Tae try and stop the leakin' air.
Shift yersel' frae cheek tae cheek
An' prae tae God it doesna' reek.

But awe yer efforts go asunder
Oot it comes like a clap o' thunder,
Ricochets aroon the room,
Michty me a sonic boom.

God awmighty it fairly reeks,
Hope I havena' shit me breeks.
Tae the bog I'd better scurry,
Aw whit the hell, it's no ma worry.

A'body roon about me chokin
Wan or two are nearly bokin.
I'll feel better for awhile,
Cannae help but raise a smile.

"Wis him!" I shout with accusin' glower.
Alas, too late, he's just keeled ower.
"Ye dirty bugger!" they shout an' stare,
A dinnae feel welcome anymair.

Where 'eer ye go, let yer wind gan' free.
Sounds like just the job fur me.
Whit a fuss at Rabbie's party
Ower the sake o' wan wee ferty.