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  #8030  
Old 31-01-2019
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Ahhh, no.

Layback40, I love and greatly appreciate the huge effort you make in posting these thousands of jokes; they are my favourite read here, and there is so much I enjoy reading on the forum.

However, and with respect, if the quote from Ian Plimer is not intended as a joke then I will only say that there is much Plimer says here, and previously, that is contentious and, in parts, wrong. I don't want to hijack the joke thread, so I will leave it there. It would take another lengthy piece to challenge/rebut each of the points needing a response.

Of course, it could be read as a joke, although I don't think Plimer intended that. ; )

Again, with respect,

GordonB
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  #8031  
Old 14-02-2019
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If you don't laugh at this ........ seek help
A large woman, wearing a sleeveless sundress, walked into a bar in Dublin, Ireland. She raised her right arm, revealing a huge, hairy armpit as she pointed to all the people sitting at the bar and asked, "What man here will buy a woman a drink?" The bar went silent as the patrons tried to ignore her.
But down at the end of the bar, an owl-eyed drunk slammed his hand down on the counter and bellowed, "Give the ballerina a drink!"
The bartender poured the drink, and the woman chugged it down. She turned to the patrons and again pointed around at
all of them, revealing the same hairy armpit, and asked, "What man here will buy a lady another drink?"
Once again, the same little drunk slapped his money down on the bar and said, "Give the ballerina another drink!"
The bartender approached the little drunk and said, "Tell me, Paddy, it's your business if you want to buy the lady a drink, but why do you keep calling her the ballerina?"
The drunk replied, "Any woman who can lift her leg that high has got to be a ballerina!"
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  #8032  
Old 25-03-2019
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“Gee, camping's fun... First night last night. Air bed has more leaks than the Trump Administration, so it's more of a ground cover now. I can't feel my right hip because of the numbness from sleeping on a tree root underneath said "pristine camping site".

Wandered off for a shower this morning after 47 minutes of sleep (I found out the sun comes up about 5.15am, as do 3500 other idiots who are into camping) so allow me for the next five minutes to let you into that experience....

Took Friday's Courier Mail with me and thought I'd go to the crapper first since the snags I cooked to a crisp last night (due to no light to cook with) bound me up tighter than the Gold Coast on Schoolies lockdown. Bad move. I got to cubicle #3 of about ten altogether - I say 'about' because the undeniable stench of 'caravan park arse' overpowering the entire toilet block started the brain to uncontrollably shut down all calculation functions other than breathing in the toxic fog to simply survive.

As I sat there contemplating my air conditioned, sweetly smelling home 80km back up the road, the guy in the cubicle next to me is hacking up a lung. This was then followed by a 9 octave, 6 second fart which I can only describe as akin to a whale carcass exploding. North Korea has nothing on this assault capability. I managed to stammer the word "Christ!" at the outburst, which was promptly returned with a neighbourly "Get f**ked" from the offending cubicle.

My own relief came shortly afterwards with the very real threat that I may actually pass out on my own private throne if I didn't get fresh air fairly soon, and this was the exact moment when I discovered there was no toilet paper in the roll holder. Panic completely set in, as did the fight or flight instinct. Thinking of myself as a fairly amiable type and mustering up as much genuine mateship for my new found friend in the cubicle next door as I could, I said to him "Mate, I'm out of paper, can you throw me a roll over the top?" This is when I experienced first hand just what a great bond the camping community has, when he replied, "F**k off, enjoy your day." Brings a tear to my eye. Bastard. I'd like to skip the next 4 minutes of resourcefulness, but let's just say pages 3 through to 5 of the paper deserved better treatment. (I wasn't about to desicrate the sports section that I hadn't read.)

By this time I'm now more than ready for a shower, albeit it's still only 5.30am. You'll be pleased to know it was incredible - hot, strong, and seemingly like the Universe was finally looking after me on this whole forgettable experience. Oh, my friends, how wrong I was. Got a good lather up, not a vile smell anywhere, and things are going great.... until the f**king hot water turned off under a 5 minute timer with auto re-set after another 5 minutes.

So now I'm naked in a park shower, I can't see a thing because of the soap in my eyes that I now can't wash out; I'm freezing my blocks off, my ass has this unpleasant stinging sensation where I've introduced it to world politics on Page 3 of the newspaper; and I'm starting to get a vague appreciation of what life in prison might be like.

I've reached for the towel on the door hook like a soaped up, sodomised version of Stevie Wonder, only to find it has dropped onto the wet floor. Yep, God has seen fit to let it drop onto the floor and start soaking up shower water and tinea from a thousand other feral sods who were in there before me. By now I'm pretty well numb to everything camping life can throw at me, and so drying myself off with it seems almost second nature.

So..... I'm walking back to the tent which has been left a little like Camp Mogadishu after a bit of a light breeze, I'm smelling like a leprechauns armpit, my jock itch is now into overdrive with Courier Mail printers ink, and I'm wondering when camping is supposed to get fun.

At least the coffee is hot.
  #8033  
Old 25-03-2019
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An Irish daughter had not been home for over 5 years. Upon her return, her Father cursed her heavily.
‘Where have ye been all this time, child? Why did ye not write to us, not even a line? Why didn’t ye call? Can ye not understand what ye put yer old Mother through?’
The girl, crying, replied, Dad... I became a prostitute.’
‘Ye what!? Get out a here, ye shameless harlot! Sinner! You’re a disgrace to this Catholic family.’
‘OK, Dad... as ye wish. I only came back to give mum this luxurious fur coat, title deed to a ten bedroom mansion, plus a 5 million savings certificate. For me little brother, this gold Rolex. And for ye Daddy, the sparkling new Mercedes limited edition convertible that’s parked outside plus a membership to the country club ... (takes a breath) ... and an invitation for ye all to spend New Year’s Eve on board my new yacht in the Riviera.’
‘What was it ye said ye had become?’ says Dad.
Girl, crying again, ‘A prostitute, Daddy!.’
‘Oh! My Goodness! Ye scared me half to death, girl! I thought ye said a Protestant! Come here and give yer old Dad a hug !!!
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  #8034  
Old 26-03-2019
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As a butcher is shooing a dog from his shop, he sees £10 and a note in his mouth, reading: "10 lamb chops, please."
Amazed, he takes the money, puts a bag of chops in the dog's mouth, and quickly closes the shop.
He follows the dog and watches him wait for a green light, look both ways, then trot across the road to a bus-stop.
The dog checks the timetable and sits on the bench.
When a bus arrives, he walks around to the front and looks at the number, then boards the bus.
The butcher follows, dumbstruck.
As the bus travels out into the suburbs, the dog takes in the scenery. After a while he stands on his back paws to push the "stop" bell, and then the butcher follows him off.
The dog runs up to a house and drops his bag on the step.
and barks repeatedly. No answer.
He goes back down the path, takes a big run, and throws himself (Whap!) against the door. He does this again and again.
No answer.
So he jumps on a wall, walks around the garden, barks repeatedly at a window, jumps off, and waits at the front door.
Eventually a small guy opens it and starts cursing and shouting at the dog.
The butcher runs up screams at the guy: "What the hell are you doing? This dog's a genius!”
The owner responds,
.
"Genius, my arse! That's the second time this week he's forgotten his key!”...
  #8035  
Old 28-03-2019
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A man jumps out of a plane skydiving, he gets to the required height and pulls the ripcord, to his horror the chute doesn't deploy.
He reaches quickly for the emergency chute cord and tugs, the ring comes off in his hand.
OMG.
Then he sees a man flying up towards him from the ground.
He shouts: Hey mate, Do you know anything about parachutes?
The man shouts back-to him No, do you know anything about gas cookers?
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  #8036  
Old 31-03-2019
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I just discovered my age group! I am a Seenager (Senior teenager).

I have everything that I wanted as a teenager, only 55-60 years later.



I don't have to go to school or work.



I get an allowance every month.



I have my own pad.



I don't have a curfew.



I have a driver's license and my own car.



I have ID that gets me into bars and the wine store. I like the wine store best.



The people I hang around with are not scared of getting pregnant,

they aren't scared of anything, they have been blessed to live this long,

why be scared?



And I don't have acne.



Life is Good! Also, you will feel much more intelligent after reading this,

if you are a Seenager.



Brains of older people are slow because they know so much.



People do not decline mentally with age; it just takes them longer to recall facts because they have more information in their brains.



Scientists believe this also makes you hard of hearing as it puts pressure on your inner ear.



Also, older people often go to another room to get something

and when they get there, they stand there wondering what they came for.

It is NOT a memory problem; it is nature's way of making older people

do more exercise.



SO THERE!!
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