Chapter 932

A guy goes fishing every Saturday morning. He gets up early and eager, makes his lunch, hooks up his boat and off he goes, all day long. Well, one Saturday morning he gets up early, dresses quietly, gets his lunch made, puts on his long johns, grabs the dog and goes to the garage to hook up his boat to the truck and down the driveway he goes.

As he is coming out of his garage rain is pouring down, it is like a torrential downpour. There is snow mixed in with the rain, and the wind is blowing 50 mph.

Minutes later, he returns to the garage. He comes back into the house and turns the TV to the weather channel. He finds it’s going to be bad weather all day long, so he puts his boat back in the garage, quietly undresses and slips back into bed. There he cuddles up to his wife’s back, now with a different anticipation, and whispers, “The weather out there is terrible.”

To which she sleepily replies, “Can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that shit?”

This one is compliments of Mario.

The Reverend John Flapps was the pastor of a small town church in Ireland. One day he was walking down the High Street and he noticed a young lady of his congregation sitting in a pub drinking beer.

The Reverend wasn’t happy. He walked through the open door of the pub and sat down next to the woman.

‘Mrs Fitzgerald, ‘ he said sternly. ‘This is no place for a member of my congregation. Why don’t you let me take you home?’

‘Sure, ‘ she said with a slur, obviously very drunk.

When Mrs Fitzgerald stood up from the bar, she began to weave back and forth. The Reverend realized that she’d had far too much to drink and grabbed her arms to steady her. When he did, they both lost their balance and tumbled to the floor.

After rolling around for a few moments, the Reverend wound up on top of Mrs. Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist.

The pub landlord looked over and said, ‘Oi Mate, we won’t have any of that carrying on in this pub.’

The Reverend looked up at the landlord and said, ‘But you don’t understand, I’m Pastor Flapps.’

The landlord nodded and said, ‘Oh well, if you’re that far in, you might as well finish.’

This one is compliments of J & B

SEX and GRAMMAR

On his 70th birthday, a man was given a gift certificate from his wife. The certificate was for consultation with an Indian medicine man living on a nearby reservation who was rumored to have a simple cure for erectile dysfunction. The husband went to the reservation and saw the medicine man.

The old Indian gave him a potion and, with a grip on his shoulder, warned “This is a powerful medicine. You take only a teaspoonful, and then say: ‘1,2,3.’ When you do you will become more manly than you have ever been in your life, and you can perform for as long as you want.”

The man thanked the old Indian, and as he walked away, he turned and asked: “How do I stop the medicine from working?” The old man responded, “Your partner must say ‘1,2,3,4, ‘ but when she does, the medicine will not work again until the next full moon.”

He was very eager to see if it worked, so he went home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine, and then invited his wife to join him in the bedroom. When she came in, he took off his clothes and said ‘1,2,3!’ Immediately, he was the manliest of men. His wife was excited and began throwing off her clothes, and asked: “What was the 1,2,3 for?”

And that, folks, is why we should never end our sentences with a preposition, because we could end up with a dangling participle.