NBC's gross out show Fear Factor has network brass in a tizzy over an upcoming episode where contestants must drink donkey semen.
I am mystified as to why this is a big deal all of a sudden. Haven't the news and cable divisions of NBC been practicing this exact same act on their donkey friends in the Democrat party for the past five decades? And they weren't even drinking it from a glass!
All jokes aside, this post dovetails nicely with my last one. What the Hell is wrong with our culture today? Who would willingly subject themselves to something like this privately, much less on a worldwide TV broadcast? Is there no shame?
After being married for forty years, I took a careful look at my wife one day and said, “Forty years ago we had a cheap house, a junk car, slept on a sofa bed and watched a tiny black and white TV, but I got to go to bed every night with a hot twenty three year-old girl.
Now… I have a seven hundred thousand dollar home, a forty five thousand dollar car, a nice big bed with a large screen TV, but I’m sleeping with a sixty three year-old woman. It seems to me that you’re not holding up your side of things.”
My wife, being a reasonable woman told me to go out and find a hot twenty three year-old girl and she would make sure that I would once again be living in a cheap house, driving a junk car, sleeping on a sofa bed watching a tiny black and white TV.”
Since President Obama has already bestowed a respectful burial at sea to his fellow Muslim, this is only a rehtorical exercise, but I thought it might allow some of us a final opportunity to vent at Bin Laden. Even imaginarily and posthumously it's bound to be both cathartic and entertaining.
So, what do you think we should have done to Bin Laden's remains? Here are few of my suggestions:
Got any other ideas? Post 'em in the comments below! Let's see how many creative ways we could have found to dispose of this piece of human garbage.
A redneck with a bucket full of live fish was approached by a game warden as he readied to drive his boat away from the lake.
The game warden asked the man, "May I see your fishing license please?"
"Naw, sir," replied the redneck. "I ain't been fishin, these here are my pet fish."
"Yep. Once a week, I bring these here fish o'mine down to the lake and let 'em swim 'round for a while. Then when I whistle, they jump right back into my bucket and I take 'em home."
"Now you and I both know that's bullshit, so I'm going to have to give you a citation."
The redneck said, "It's the truth, warden. I'll show ya! We do this all the time!"
"We DO, now, do we?" smirked the warden. "PROVE it!"
The redneck proceeded to pour the bucket of the fish out into the lake then stood back and waited. After a few minutes, the warden said, "Well?"
"Well, WHUT?" said the redneck.
The warden asked, "When are you going to call them back?"
"Call who back?"
"The FISH!" replied the warden.
The redneck just gave the warden a sly grin and asked "Whut fish?"
The Sierra Club and the U.S. Forest Service were presenting an alternative to Wyoming ranchers for controlling the coyote population. It seems that after years of ranchers using the tried and true method of shooting or trapping the predators, the Sierra Club had a "more humane" solution to this issue. What they were proposing was for the animals to be captured alive. The males would then be castrated and let loose again.
All of the ranchers thought about this amazing idea for a couple of minutes. Finally an old fellow wearing a big cowboy hat in the back of the room stood up, tipped his hat back and said:
"Son, I don't think you understand our problem here... these coyotes ain't fuckin' our sheep... they're eatin' 'em!"
The meeting never really got back to order...
I am sick and tired of friends and family on Facebook teasing me over the winter we've been having here in the Midwest, so I just posted this mock weather forecast:
I know I should have taken the high road, but... well, I just couldn't resist.
This from the guy who's spent millions of dollars on lawyers fighting to keep all of his school and birth records sealed away from public scrutiny?
Hat tip to Third World County.
As they sat there, each being worked on by a different barber, not a word was spoken. The barbers were even afraid to start a conversation, for fear it would turn to politics.
As the barbers finished their shaves, the one who had Obama in his chair reached for the aftershave. Obama was quick to stop him saying, 'No thanks, my wife Michelle will smell that and think I've been in a whorehouse.'
The second barber turned to Bush and said, 'How about you sir?' Bush replied, 'Go right ahead... MY wife doesn't know what a whorehouse smells like.'
Iowahawk brings us a text adventure transcript ripped right off President Obama's floppy disk!
YOU ARE IN AN OVAL OFFICE. YOU ARE BEHIND A DESK. YOU ARE BORED. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?
>GIVE RESET BUTTON TO RUSSIA, BUY CAR COMPANIES
HOW MANY CAR COMPANIES?
THIS WILL COST $85 BILLION OF GOLD. YOU ARE IN AN OVAL OFFICE. YOU HAVE 2 CAR COMPANIES. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO WITH THEM?
>GIVE TO UNIONS
YOU ARE IN AN OVAL OFFICE. YOUR APPROVAL HEALTH IS 67%. UNEMPLOYMENT IN THE FOREST IS 8.1% WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?
>$1 TRILLION TARP
YOU DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH GOLD FOR THAT. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?
WHO DO YOU WANT GOLD TO GO TO?
>BANKING AND INSURANCE FRIENDS
Be sure to click over and read the whole thing. Priceless... at least if you were a big geek in the 80's like me. I can remember playing these text adventure games at the library before I had a computer, then I'd print a transcript on the dot matrix and take it home to strategize my next adventure session.
Good times... I really miss Infocom.
An ion walks into a bar and says "I think I left an electron here last night." The bartender asks "Are you positive?"
A neutron walks into a bar and asks "How much for a beer?" The bartender sets the beer down and says, "For you, no charge!"
An electron walks into a bar, slumps down on the stool and starts moaning about how bad a day he has had. The bartender says, "Cheer up buddy. Stop being so negative."
Sitting together on a train was Barack Obama, George W. Bush, a little old lady, and a young voluptuous blond girl.
The train goes into a pitch black tunnel and a few seconds later there is the sound of a loud SLAP! When the train emerges from the tunnel, Obama has a bright red hand-print on his cheek... but NO ONE speaks.
The old lady thinks: Obama must have groped the blond in the dark, and she slapped him.
The blond girl thinks: Obama must have tried to grope me in the dark, but missed and fondled the old lady instead and she slapped him.
Obama thinks: Bush must have groped the blond in the dark. She tried to slap him but missed and got me instead.
George Bush thinks: That felt good... I can't wait for another tunnel!
A joke from my Inbox:
Being a modest man, when I checked into my hotel on a recent trip, I said to the lady at the registration desk "I hope the porn channel in my room is disabled."
To which she replied, "No, it's regular porn, you sick bastard."
Hat tip to Dawson.
Oak Brook, IL: McDonald's Corp. (Nasdaq: MCD) is introducing a new Obama themed Menu at it's chain of more than 30,000 fast food restaurants. The "McChange Menu" features 30 popular items and allows customers to order anything they like with the person in line behind them being charged for it. McDonald's president Jan Fields cited market research indicating a majority of Americans now believe this is the fairest way to pay for things in today's economy.
Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport passenger lounge in Bozeman, Montana, awaiting their flights.
One is an American Indian passing through from Lame Deer. Another is a cowboy on his way to Billings for a livestock show, and the third passenger is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Montana State University from the Middle East.
Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table, and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face. The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around, and the old windsock is flapping, but still no plane comes.
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he speaks, “At one time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are few.”
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, “Once my people were few,” he sneers, “and now we are many. Why do you suppose that is?”
The Montana cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a drawl, “That’s ’cause we ain’t played cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it’s a comin’.”
Shamelessly stolen from Fountain Abbey.
From Fox News:
NASA Administrator Charles Bolden said in a recent interview that his "foremost" mission as the head of America's space exploration agency is to improve relations with the Muslim world.
Wow! The Muslims have already colonized a planet? Why would Obama want to reach it? Is that where his birth certificate is stored?
Moses said to the children of Israel, "Pick up your shovels, mount your asses and camels, and I will lead you to the promised land." Then about 75 years ago, Roosevelt said, "Lay down your shovels, sit on your asses, and light up a Camel, this is the promised land." Now Obama has stolen your shovel, taxed your asses, raised the price of Camels and bankrupted the promised land...
An old, blind cowboy wanders into an all-girl biker bar by mistake. He finds his way to a bar stool and orders a shot of Jack Daniels.
After sitting there for a while, he yells to the bartender, 'Hey, you wanna hear a blonde joke?'
The bar immediately falls absolutely silent. In a very deep, husky voice, the woman next to him says, 'Before you tell that joke, Cowboy, I think it is only fair, given that you are blind, that you should know five things:
1. The bartender is a blonde girl with a baseball bat.
2. The bouncer is a blonde girl.
3. I'm a 6-foot tall, 175-pound blonde woman with a black belt in karate.
4. The woman sitting next to me is blonde and a professional weight lifter.
5. The lady to your right is blonde and a professional wrestler.
Now, think about it seriously, Mister. Do you still wanna tell that joke?'
The blind cowboy thinks for a second, shakes his head and mutters, 'No...not if I'm gonna have to explain it five times.'