Missing---Joke Forum, so I'll just start a thread.

[Bob Denman]

And large organizations are like septic tanks. The bigger pieces of **** rise to the top!

Thank goodness that we're a tiny corporation...

 

[Zip]

Do Las Vegas churches accept gambling chips?

This may come as a surprise to those of you not living in Las Vegas , but there are more Catholic churches than casinos.

Not surprisingly, some worshipers at Sunday services will give casino chips rather than cash when the basket is passed.

Since they get chips from many different casinos, the churches have devised a method to collect the offerings.

The churches send all their collected chips to a nearby Franciscan monastery for sorting and then the chips are taken to the casinos of origin and cashed in.



This is done by the chip monks

 

[Bob Denman]

:clap:




:roflblack::roflblack::roflblack:

 

[cuznjohn]

 

[Bob Denman]

:clap:

 

[JerryB]

Hi folks,

Mary checked into the Starlight motel on her 65th Birthday. She was lonely and a little depressed at her advancing age so decided to risk an adventure. She thought, "I'll call one of those men you see advertised in phone books for escorts and sensual massages.”

She looked through the phone book, found a full-page ad for a guy calling himself Tender Tony, a very handsome man with assorted physical skills flexing in the photo. He had all the right muscles in all the right places, thick wavy hair, long powerful legs, dazzling smile, six-pack abs and she felt quite certain she could bounce a dime off his well-oiled buns .

She figured, what the heck, nobody will ever know. I'll give him a call.

"Good evening, ma'am, how may I help you?”

Oh my, he sounded sooo sexy! Afraid she would lose her nerve if she hesitated, so she rushed right in, "I hear you give a great massage. I'd like you to come to my motel room and give me one. No, wait, I should be straight with you. I'm in town all alone and what I really want is sex. I want it hot, and I want it now. Bring implements, toys, everything you've got in your bag of tricks. We'll go at it all night, tie me up, cover me in chocolate syrup and whipped cream, anything and everything, I'm ready! Now how does that sound?”

He said, "That sounds absolutely fantastic, but you need to press 9 for an outside line."

:yes:

Jerry Baumchen

 

[Bob Denman]

Since Easter us here...




Never forget the "Reason for the Season"... :bowdown:

 

[Bob Denman]

The latest TV Tray design...

 

[Bob Denman]

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 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 Walmart
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?

 

[mowin]

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 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 Walmart
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?

Lol

I'm in my 50's, but I'm definitely living in the 60's stage.:yikes:

 

[ingramsail]

Right on, once I finally got it all read. Kept falling a slept, just one step away from 70.

 

[Bob Denman]

Right on, once I finally got it all read. Kept falling a slept, just one step away from 70.

Congratulations on keeping your enemies in suspense for so long!! :clap::firstplace: :2thumbs:

(Just got both feet dug into the Sixties; but I'm definitely working ahead... FAR ahead! :shocked

 

[Blue Star]

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 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 Walmart
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?

This reminds me. I have to go to Home Depot :yes:

 

[Bob Denman]

This reminds me. I have to go to Home Depot :yes:

Don't forget to tuck your Balls in first... :thumbup:

 

[Blue Star]

Don't forget to tuck your Balls in first... :thumbup:

I will

 

[Bob Denman]

:2thumbs:
By rhe way: how are you liking that F3?

 

[cuznjohn]

 

[Blue Star]

:2thumbs:
By rhe way: how are you liking that F3?

Enjoying it, and hoping to finish my wife's honey-do list so I can take a ryde today.

I already ordered my bike cover from Lamonster (necessary), my dual backrest from smoothspyder (wife requirement), and my hitch. Now I just have to find the time to install them when they come in.

 

[Bob Denman]

I'm glad to hear that you're diggin' it! :yes::yes::yes:

 

[JerryB]

Hi folks,

AN IRISHMAN'S FIRST DRINK WITH HIS SON

I was reading an article last night about fathers and sons, and memories came flooding back of the time I took my son out for his first drink.

Off we went to our local bar, which is only two blocks from the house.

I got him a Guinness Stout. He didn't like it – so I drank it.

Then I got him an Old Style, he didn't like it either, so I drank it. It was the same with the Coors and the Bud. By the time we got down to the Irish whiskey I could hardly push the stroller back home.


JEWISH MOTHER

The year is 2020 and the United States has elected the first woman as well is the first Jewish president, Susan Goldstein.

She calls up her mother a few weeks after Election Day and says, "So, Mom, I assume you'll be coming to my inauguration?"

"I don't think so. It's a ten hour drive & your father isn't as young as he used to be, and my arthritis is acting up again."

"Don't worry about it Mom, I'll send Air Force One to pick you up and take you home. And a limousine will pick you up at your door."

"I don't know. Everybody will be so fancy-schmantzy, what on earth would I wear?"

Susan replies, "I'll make sure you have a wonderful gown, custom-made by the best designer in New York."

"Honey," Mom complains, "you know I can't eat those rich foods you and your friends like to eat."

The President-to-be responds, "Don't worry Mom. The entire affair is going to be handled by the best caterer in New York; kosher all the way. Mom, I really want you to come."

So Mom reluctantly agrees and on January 20, 2021, Susan Goldstein is being sworn in as President of the United States. In the front row sits the new President's mother, who leans over to a senator sitting next to her and says, "You see that woman over there with her hand on the Torah, becoming President of the United States ?"

The Senator whispers back, "Yes, I do."

Mom says proudly, "Her brother is a doctor."


ITALIAN MOTHER

Giuseppe excitedly tells his mother he's fallen in love and that he is going to get married.

He says, "Just for fun, Mama, I'm going to bring over three women and you try and guess which one I'm going to marry."

The mother agrees.

The next day, he brings three beautiful women into the house, sits them down on the couch & they chat for awhile. He then says, "Okay Mama, guess which one I'm going to marry?"

Mama says immediately, "The one on the right."

"That's amazing, Mama. You're right. How did you know?"

Mama replies: "I don't like her."

:yikes:

Jerry Baumchen