Dumb Jokes Posted Here.... if you dare.
- Thread starter TedG954
- Start date
nikonpup
Senior Member
So three Little Pigs went out to dinner one night.
The waiter comes and takes their drink order.
“I would like a Sprite,” said the first little piggy.
“I would like a Coke,” said the second little piggy.
“I want water, lots and lots of water,” said the third little piggy.
The drinks are brought out and the waiter takes their orders for dinner.
“I want a nice big steak,” said the first piggy.
“I would like the salad plate,” said the second piggy.
“I want water, lots and lots of water,” said the third little piggy.
The meals were brought out and a while later the waiter approached the table and asked if the piggies would like any dessert.
“I want a banana split,” said the first piggy.
“I want a root beer float,” said the second piggy.
“I want water, lots and lots of water,” exclaimed the third little piggy.
“Pardon me for asking,” said the waiter, “but why have you only ordered water?”
You’re gonna hate me for this…
Hold on to your seat…
The third piggy says—
“Well, somebody has to go ‘Wee, wee, wee, all the way home.’”
The waiter comes and takes their drink order.
“I would like a Sprite,” said the first little piggy.
“I would like a Coke,” said the second little piggy.
“I want water, lots and lots of water,” said the third little piggy.
The drinks are brought out and the waiter takes their orders for dinner.
“I want a nice big steak,” said the first piggy.
“I would like the salad plate,” said the second piggy.
“I want water, lots and lots of water,” said the third little piggy.
The meals were brought out and a while later the waiter approached the table and asked if the piggies would like any dessert.
“I want a banana split,” said the first piggy.
“I want a root beer float,” said the second piggy.
“I want water, lots and lots of water,” exclaimed the third little piggy.
“Pardon me for asking,” said the waiter, “but why have you only ordered water?”
You’re gonna hate me for this…
Hold on to your seat…
The third piggy says—
“Well, somebody has to go ‘Wee, wee, wee, all the way home.’”
nikonpup
Senior Member
A pastor's wife was expecting a baby, so he stood before the congregation and asked for a raise. After much discussion, they passed a rule that whenever the pastor's family expanded, so would his paycheck.
After 6 children, this started to get expensive and the congregation decided to hold another meeting to discuss the pastor's expanding salary. A great deal of yelling and inner bickering ensued, as to how much the pastor's additional children were costing the church, and how much more it could potentially cost. After listening to them for about an hour, the pastor rose from his chair and spoke,
- "Children are a gift from God, and we will take as many gifts as He gives us."
Silence fell over the congregation. In the back pew, a little old lady struggled to stand, and finally said in her frail voice,
- "Rain is also a gift from God, but when we get too much of it, we wear rubbers."
The entire congregation shouted,
- "AMEN!!"
After 6 children, this started to get expensive and the congregation decided to hold another meeting to discuss the pastor's expanding salary. A great deal of yelling and inner bickering ensued, as to how much the pastor's additional children were costing the church, and how much more it could potentially cost. After listening to them for about an hour, the pastor rose from his chair and spoke,
- "Children are a gift from God, and we will take as many gifts as He gives us."
Silence fell over the congregation. In the back pew, a little old lady struggled to stand, and finally said in her frail voice,
- "Rain is also a gift from God, but when we get too much of it, we wear rubbers."
The entire congregation shouted,
- "AMEN!!"
Patrick M
Senior Member
Happy days!
nikonpup
Senior Member
Graham Martin is in the Hospital Who the hell is Graham Martin? Well, let me tell you. Graham is just your average guy—well, he was until last night. It all started when he stumbled home late, reeking of mischief. The moment he stepped through the door, his wife, Helen, stood there, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, looking like a prosecutor ready to present Exhibit A. “Where the hell have you been?” she demanded. Graham, in his infinite wisdom (or lack thereof), grinned proudly and announced, “I was getting a tattoo!” Helen’s eyes narrowed. “A tattoo?” she repeated, her voice laced with suspicion. “And what exactly did you get tattooed?” Graham puffed out his chest and, with all the confidence of a man who had no idea what was coming, declared, “I got a hundred-dollar note tattooed on my privates!” Silence. Helen blinked. Then frowned. Then shook her head so hard, she nearly gave herself whiplash. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked, somewhere between disbelief and pure fury. “Why would a Chartered Accountant—of all people—get a hundred-dollar bill tattooed on that?” Graham, thinking he had just delivered the best financial strategy of the century, smirked and said: “Well, sweetheart… One—I like to watch my money grow. Two—Every now and then, I enjoy playing with my money. Three—I like how money feels in my hand. And lastly… instead of you going out shopping, you can stay home and blow a hundred dollars anytime you want.” … And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Graham Martin ended up in the Critical Care Unit, Room 233. No visitors allowed until further notice.
