Joke thread

I did a search and didn't find a joke thread so I figued wjy not.
If you got a joke post it. Please lets keep it clean. I'll start

Three friends were stranded on a remote island. One day they found a magic lamp. When they rubbed it the genie popped out and said 'I'll give each of you one wish'.
The first guy said 'I wish I were home' and the genie granted his wish and he disappeared.
The second guy said 'I wish I were home too' and the genie granted his wish and he disappeared.
The third guy looked around, suddenly realising he was alone and said ' I wish my friends were here'

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:34 PM ----------

Trust me, pee before you read this one...lol


I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect... I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic.

As I passed an oncoming car, a brown, furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves.


Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes.

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:34 PM ----------

His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I was pretty sure the scream was Squirrel for "Bonzai!" or maybe "Die you gravy-sucking heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of spectacular... He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans, this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:35 PM ----------

Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing... I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have, The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:35 PM ----------

Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of my throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all.

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:36 PM ----------

His attacks were continuing and now, I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can have only one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:36 PM ----------

The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in ... well... I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:37 PM ----------

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle...my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:37 PM ----------

About this time, the squirrel decided I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel however

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:37 PM ----------

The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment), so her front end started to drop. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:38 PM ----------

Finally I got the upper hand .. I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked ... sort of. Spectacularly sort-of . so to speak. Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade into your police car.

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:38 PM ----------

I heard screams. This time they weren't mine... I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to 'fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really...Except for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street aiming a riot gun at his own police car. So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway.

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:39 PM ----------

That was one thing. The other? Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car...but it was all his. I took a deep breath, turned on my turn signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a whole lot of Band-Aids.

---------- Post added 4th Sep 2013 at 01:45 PM ----------

I heard screams. This time they weren't mine... I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to 'fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really...Except for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street aiming a riot gun at his own police car. So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway.

 

Three guys died in a car crash. At the gate St. Peter said 'Congratulations you made it to heaven. Heaven is covered with ducks and if you step on one it will quack and all the ones around it will quack and so on. So the only rule in heaven is 'don't step on a duck' otherwise enjoy your stay."
As the go through the gate the fist guy is skipping backwards making fun of St Peter 'don't step on a duck' sure enough he don't make it 10ft before stepping on a duck. Suddenly St Peter appears with a woman with a large hunch back, disfigured face, coverd in boils, and mumbling to herself. He said 'You stepped on a duck so you are to be handcuffed to this woman for all eternity". The other two decided to be more careful but eventually the second guy stepped on a duck. Again St Peter appeared this time with a woman who made the fist look like a super model. He said 'You stepped on a duck so you are to be handcuffed to this woman for all eternity'.
The third guy decided there is no way he would ever step on a

---------- Post added 8th Sep 2013 at 03:25 PM ----------

duck so everywhere he went he looked down, barley shuffled his feet along, and repeated to himself 'don't step on a duck..don't step on a duck...". One day out of the blue St Peter appeared and handcuffed him to a woman more beautiful than the man ever imagined possible. He looked up and said 'Wow this is great what did I do to deserve this?' The woman quickly replied in a nagging voice 'I dont know what you did, but I stepped on a duck!!!"

 

This guy walks into a bar upset and says 'gimmie a drink I don't care what as long as it's strong'.
The bartender starts pouring the drink and ask 'whats wrong?'.
The man replies 'I just ran into a genie'.
The bartender hands the man his drink and says 'Is't that a good thing?'.
The man reaches in his left coat pocket and sits down a tiny piano. He reaches into his right pocket and pulls out a little bench and sits it next to the piano. Finally he pulls a little man out of his shirt pocket and sits him down. As the little man begins to play the guy with the drink says 'There's the problem'.
The bartender says 'I don't get it'.
The man downs his drink looks at the bartender and says 'Do you really think I asked for a ten inch pianist?'.