Chapter 121

These are compliments of fmwarmac

Fred gets married and on his wedding night he calls his Father for some tips on what to do, since he has never been with a woman before.

“So what do I do first?”

His father replied, “Take her clothes off and lay her on the bed.”

5 minutes later Fred’s on the phone again.

“She’s naked and in bed, what do I do now???

His father can’t believe what he is hearing, “Take your damn clothes off and get into bed with her.”

After another 5 minutes poor Fred is on the phone again.

“Dad, I’m naked and in bed with her, what do I do now?”

His dad’s patience is now running thin so he says, “Shit son! Do I have to spell everything out for you? Just put the hardest thing on your body where she pees. Goodnight!!!”

Just when the old man starts snoring, his son is on the phone once again. “Ok Dad, I have my head in the toilet bowl what do I do next”

“DROWN YOURSELF, YOU F**KING IDIOT!

Two paramedics arrived at the scene of a car crash. The driver of the car was sitting in his seat, screaming hysterically.

One of the paramedics tried to calm him. “Take deep breaths and pull yourself together. Be thankful that at least you haven’t gone through the windshield like your passenger,” and he pointed at a girl lying unconscious by the side of the road. “She looks in a really bad state.”

Still crying uncontrollably, the driver yelled: “You haven’t seen what’s in her mouth!”

The telephone rang at dawn. “Hello, Señor Ralph? This is Alfredo, the caretaker at your country house.”

“Hi, Alfredo. What can I do for you? Is there a problem?”

“Uh, I am just calling to tell you, Señor Ralph, that your parrot died.”

“My parrot? Dead? The one that won the international competition?”

“Yes, Señor, that’s the one.”

“Damn! That’s a pity. I spent a small fortune on that bird. What did he die from?”

“From eating rotten meat, Señor Ralph.”

“Rotten meat? Who the hell fed him rotten meat?”

“Nobody, Señor. He ate the meat of the dead horse.”

“Dead horse? What dead horse?”

“The thoroughbred, Señor Ralph.”

“My prize thoroughbred is dead?”

“Yes, Señor Ralph, he died from all that work pulling the water cart.”

“Are you insane? What water cart?”

“The one we used to put out the fire, Señor.”

“My God! What fire are you talking about?”

“The one at your house, Señor. A candle fell and the curtains caught fire.”

“What the hell... ? Are you telling me that my $5m mansion is destroyed because of a candle?”

“Yes, Señor Ralph.”

“But there’s electricity at the house! What was the candle for?”

“For the funeral, Señor Ralph.”

“What bloody funeral?”

“Your wife’s, Señor Ralph. She showed up one night out of the blue and I thought she was a thief. So I hit her with your new Tiger Woods’ Nike driver.”

There was a lengthy silence.

“Alfredo, if you broke that driver, you’re in real trouble...”

A jealous husband hired a private detective to check on his wife’s movements. The husband demanded more than just a written report – he wanted a video of his wife’s activities.