Author Topic: This Tickled me ...  (Read 138495 times)

Offline ~Meg~

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #120 on: March 11, 2008, 08:32:55 PM »

      Getting her hot and bothered after 20 years
   
      >> After 20 years of marriage, a couple was lying in bed one
evening, when the misses felt her husband begin to fondle her in
ways he hadn't in quite some time.
      >>
      >> It almost tickled as his fingers started at her neck, and then
began
      >> moving down past the small of her back. He then caressed her
shoulders and neck, slowly worked his hand down over her breasts,
stopping just over her lower stomach.
      >>
      >> He then proceeded to place his hand on her left inner arm,
caressed past the side of her breast again, working down her
side, passed gently over her buttock and down her leg to her
calf.
      >>
      >> Then, he proceeded up her inner thigh, stopping just at the
uppermost

      >> portion of her leg. He continued in the same manner on her right
side, then suddenly stopped, rolled over and became silent.
      >>
      >> As she had become quite aroused by this caressing, she asked in a
loving voice, 'Honey, that was wonderful. Why did you stop?'
      >>
      >> 'I found the remote,' he mumbled.
One day at a time is enough....Don't look back and grieve the past, it's gone....And Don't be troubled about the future, It has not come yet....Live in the present and make it so beautiful it will be worth remembering...

Offline Easy

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #121 on: March 12, 2008, 05:40:29 AM »
Woman's Poem
>
> He didn't like the casserole
> And he didn't like my cake,
> He said my biscuits were too hard
> Not like his mother used to make.
> I didn't perk the coffee right
> He didn't like the stew,
> I didn't mend his socks
> The way his mother used to do.
>
> I pondered for an answer
> I was looking for a clue.
>
> Then I turned around and
> smacked the snot out of him...
> Like his mother used to do.

-A Mut Misfit-

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #122 on: March 13, 2008, 05:37:35 AM »
THE ITALIAN BOY'S CONFESSION

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I have been with a loose girl."

The priest asks, "Is that you, little Joey Pagano?"

"Yes, Father, it is."

"And who was the girl you were with?"

"I can't tell you, Father, I don't want to ruin her reputation."


"Well, Joey, I'm sure to find out her name sooner or later, so you may as
well tell me now. Was it Tina Minetti?"

"I cannot say."

"Was it Teresa Mazzarelli?"

"I'll never tell."

"Was it Nina Capelli?"

"I'm sorry, but I cannot name her."

"Was it Cathy Piriano?"

"My lips are sealed."

"Was it Rosa D'Angelo, then?"

"Please, Father, I can not tell you."

The priest sighs in frustration. "You're very tight lipped, Joey Pagano, and
I admire that. But you've sinned and have to atone. You cannot be an altar
boy now for 4 months. Now go and behave yourself."

Joey walks back to his pew, and his friend Franco slides over and whispers,
"What'd you get for penance?"

"Four months vacation and five good leads."


Offline Kellie

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #123 on: March 15, 2008, 06:12:43 AM »
While out for a stroll around the farm on Easter morning, Mr Rooster happened on a pile of vividly colored eggs. Growing livid, he rushed into the woods and beat the crap out of Mr Peacock.
Life isn't about surviving the storm, but rather how to dance in the rain.

Offline Kellie

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #124 on: March 15, 2008, 06:18:34 AM »
Jim happened to bump into his friend Gary at the tennis club.

"So," Jim said, "how's it working out with that shrink I recommended?"

"Great," Gary said. "I mean, when I started, I was the most arrogant, self-impressed egomaniac on God's green earth. Now," he shrugged, "you couldn't ask to meet a more terrific guy than me."

****************************
Don't we all know a few like this? *L*
Life isn't about surviving the storm, but rather how to dance in the rain.

Offline Kellie

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #125 on: March 15, 2008, 02:49:49 PM »
Fascinated by her new pet kitten, little Jamie played with it day and night. The cat soon became so exhausted, and curled up beside the fireplace to sleep. Comforted by the warmth, the animal began to purr.

Screaming, Jamie ran into the bedroom. "Mommy, mommy, come quickly! The kitty's beginning to boil!"
Life isn't about surviving the storm, but rather how to dance in the rain.

Offline Kellie

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #126 on: March 15, 2008, 02:58:55 PM »
Jim and Pete went fishing. As soon as they got to the middle of the lake, Jim started reeling them in; Pete caught nothing.

"It doesn't make any sense," Pete said. "My rod is better. I have more experience. But you're the one catching all the fish!"

"That's because I have a system." Jim said. "Y'see, when I wake up, if my wife's sleeping on her left side, I fish the left side of the boat. If she's on her right side, I sit on the right side."

"And what do you do if she's lying on her back?"

Jim replied, "I don't go fishing."
Life isn't about surviving the storm, but rather how to dance in the rain.

Offline Kellie

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #127 on: March 15, 2008, 05:07:29 PM »
The phone rings and the lady of the house answers,

'Hello'.

'Mrs. Ward, please.'

'Speaking.'

'Mrs. Ward, this is Doctor Jones at the Medical Testing Laboratory. When your doctor sent your husband's biopsy to the lab yesterday, a biopsy from another Mr. Ward arrived as well, and we are now uncertain which one is your husband's. Frankly, the results are either bad or terrible.'

'What do you mean?' Mrs. Ward asks nervously.

'Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer's, and the other one tested positive for AIDS.  We can't tell which one is your husband's.'

'That's dreadful! Can't you do the test again?' questioned Mrs. Ward.

'Normally we can, but Medicare will only pay for these expensive tests one time.'

'Well, what am I supposed to do now?'

'The people at Medicare are recommending you drop your husband off somewhere in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don't sleep with him.'
Life isn't about surviving the storm, but rather how to dance in the rain.

Offline Shirley

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #128 on: March 17, 2008, 07:36:04 AM »
If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome, including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have you laughing out LOUD!


Overview: I had to take my son's lizard to the vet. Here's what happened: Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was 'something wrong' with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room.



'He's just lying there looking sick,' he told me. 'I'm serious, Dad . Can you help?'



I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.



'Honey,' I called, 'come look at the lizard!'



'Oh, my gosh!' my wife exclaimed. 'She's having babies.'



'What?' my son demanded. 'But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!'



I was equally outraged. 'Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce,' I said accusingly to my wife.



'Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?' she inquired (I think she actually said this sarcastically! ).



'No, but you were supposed to get two boys!' I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth).



'Yeah, Bert and Ernie!' my son agreed .



'Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know,' she informed me (Again with the sarcasm!)



By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.



'Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,' I announced. 'We're about to witness the miracle of birth.'



'Oh, gross!' they shrieked.



'Well, isn't THAT just great? What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?' my wife wanted to know.



We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.



'We don't appear to be making much progress,' I noted.



'It's breech,' my wife whispered, horrified.



'Do something, Dad!' my son urged.



'Okay, okay.' Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.



'Should I call 911?' my eldest daughter wanted to know 'Maybe they could talk us through the trauma' (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)



'Let's get Ernie to the vet,' I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.



'Breathe, Ernie, breathe,' he urged.



'I don't think lizards do Lamaze,' his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for God's sake.).



The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass .



'What do you think, Doc, a C-section?' I suggested scientifically.



'Oh, very interesting, ' he murmured. 'Mr. And Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?'



I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.



'Is Ernie going to be okay?' my wife asked.



'Oh, perfectly,' the vet assured us. 'This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen . . . Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um . . . Um . Masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back.' He blushed, glancing at my wife.



We were silent, absorbing this. 'So, Ernie's just . . . Just ...



Excited,' my wife offered. 'Exactly,' the vet replied, relieved that we understood.



More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.



'What's so funny?' I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.



Tears were now running down her face. 'It's just . . . That . . I'm picturing you pulling on its . its . . teeny little . .' She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.



'That's enough,' I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the lizard and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay.



'I know Ernie's really thankful for what you did, Dad,' he told me.



'Oh, you have NO idea,' my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.



Two lizards: $140.


One cage: $50.


Trip to the vet: $30.



Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie: Priceless



Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class. Lizards lay eggs.
To love and Be Loved is the greatest gift mankind can receive.

Offline ~Meg~

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #129 on: March 17, 2008, 07:49:11 AM »
That was a good one...LOL..
One day at a time is enough....Don't look back and grieve the past, it's gone....And Don't be troubled about the future, It has not come yet....Live in the present and make it so beautiful it will be worth remembering...

Offline Shirley

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #130 on: March 17, 2008, 07:50:17 AM »
THE GAY FLIGHT ATTENDANT(*hopes noone takes an offence*)

 This one is too funny to not forward

 My flight was being served by an obviously gay flight
attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a good mood as he served us food
and drinks.

 As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the
aisle and told us that 'Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he'll
be landing the big scary plane shortly, so lovely people, if you could just
put your trays up, that would be super.'

 On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed this well-dressed
and rather

 Arabic looking woman hadn't moved a muscle.

 'Perhaps you didn't hear me over those big brute engines but I
asked you to

 raise your trazy-poo, so the main man can pitty-pat us on the
ground.'

 She calmly turned her head and said, 'In my country, I am
called a Princess and I take orders from no one.'

 To which (I swear) the flight attendant re plied, without
missing a beat,

 'Well, sweet-cheeks, in my country I'm called a Queen, so I
outrank you.
 Tray-up, Bitch.
To love and Be Loved is the greatest gift mankind can receive.

Offline ~Meg~

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #131 on: March 17, 2008, 07:52:57 AM »
*BOL*..that is a really good one....
One day at a time is enough....Don't look back and grieve the past, it's gone....And Don't be troubled about the future, It has not come yet....Live in the present and make it so beautiful it will be worth remembering...

Offline Kellie

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #132 on: March 17, 2008, 10:39:37 AM »
Drinking with a Redneck Girl A Mexican, an Arab, and a redneck girl are in the same bar. When the Mexican finishes his beer, he throws his glass in the air, pulls out his pistol, and shoots the glass to pieces.! He says, 'In Mexico , our glasses are so cheap we don't need to drink with the same one twice.' The Arab, obviously impressed by this, drinks his beer, throws it into the air, pulls out his AK-47, and shoots the glass to pieces. He says, 'In the Arab World, we have so much sand to make glasses that we don't need to drink with the same one twice either.' The redneck girl, cool as a cucumber, picks up her beer, downs it in one gulp, throws the&nb sp; glass into the air, whips out her 45, and shoots the Mexican and the Arab. Catching her glass, setting it on the bar, and calling for a refill, she says, 'In America we have so many illegal Mexicans and Arabs that we don't have to drink with the same ones twice.'

'God Bless America '
Life isn't about surviving the storm, but rather how to dance in the rain.

Offline Kellie

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #133 on: March 17, 2008, 10:44:25 AM »

UNANSWERED QUESTIONS

Why isn't the number 11 pronounced onety-one?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
If 4 out of 5 people SUFFER from diarrhea...does that mean that one out of five enjoys it?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 
Why do croutons come in airtight packages? Aren't they  just stale bread to begin with?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*

If people from Poland are called Poles, then why aren't people from Holland called H oles? 

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If a pig loses its voice, is it disgruntled?

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Why is a person who  plays the piano called a pianist, but a person who drives a racecar is not called a racist?

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If it's true that we are here to help others, then what exactly are the others here for?   

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If lawyers are disbarred and clergymen defrocked, then doesn't it follow that electricians can be delighted, musicians denoted, cowboys deranged, models deposed, tree surgeons debarked, and dry cleaners depressed?

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If Fed Ex and UPS were to merge, would they call it Fed UP? ?

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Do Lipton Tea employees take "coffee breaks?"

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What hair color do they put on the driver 's licenses of  bald men?
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I thought about how mothers feed their babies with tiny little spoons and forks, so I wondered what do Chinese mothers use. Toothpicks?

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Why do they put pictures of criminals up in the Post Office? What are we supposed to do, write to them? Why don't they just put their pictures on the postage stamps so the mailmen can look for them while they deliver the mail?

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Is it true that you never really learn to swear until you learn to drive?

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If a cow laughed, would milk come out of her nose?

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Whatever happened to Preparations A through G?

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As income tax time  approaches, did you ever notice: When you put the two words "The" and "IRS" together, it spells
"THEIRS"?
Life isn't about surviving the storm, but rather how to dance in the rain.

Offline Kellie

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Re: This Tickled me ...
« Reply #134 on: March 18, 2008, 03:36:40 PM »
Why Women Are Crabby

We started to 'bud' in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to find that anything that came in contact with those tender, blooming buds hurt so bad it brought us to tears. So came the ridiculously uncomfortable training bra contraption that the boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our backs.

Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with those budding boobs, we bloated, we cramped, we got the hormone crankies, had to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn't even know we had.

Our next little rite of passage was having sex for the first time which was about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils (IF he did it right and didn't end up with his little cart before his horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.

Then it was off to Motherhood where we learned to live on dry crackers and water for a few months so we didn't spend the entire day leaning over Brother John. Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learned to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards night and day making us wonder if we were preparing to have Rosemary's Baby.

Our once flat bellies looked like we swallowed a whole watermelon and we pee'd our pants every time we sneezed. When the big moment arrived, the dam in our blessed Nether Regions invariably burst right in the middle of the mall and we had to waddle, with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain all the way to the ER.

Then it was huff and puff and beg to die while theOB   says, 'Please stop screaming, Mrs. Hearmeroar . Calm down and push. 'Just one more good push' (more like 10), warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the %$#*@*#!* hubby and doctor square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10 pound bowling ball through a keyhole.

After that, it was time to raise those angels only to find that when all that 'cute' wears off, the beautiful little darlings morphed into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.

Then come their 'Teen Years.' Need I say more?


When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious sexual prime in our early 40's - while hubby had his somewhere around his 18th birthday.

So we progress into the grand finale: 'The Menopause,' the Grandmother of all womanhood. It's either take HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned 'buds' or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or, sweat like a hog in July, wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.

Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men, when men get off so easy, INCLUDING the icing on life's cake: Being able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks...

So, while I love being a woman, 'Womanhood' would make the Great Gandhi a tad crabby. You think women are the 'weaker sex?' Yeah right. Bite me.
Life isn't about surviving the storm, but rather how to dance in the rain.