Chapter 85

Olympic History

Here is a piece of Greek history regarding the Olympic games.

2500 years ago a slave call girl from Sardinia named Gedophamee (pronounced Get-offa’-me) was attending the first athletic festival in Greece.

This festival had no name at that time.

In those days the athletes performed naked and to prevent unwanted arousal while competing, the men imbibed freely on a drink containing saltpeter.

At the opening ceremonial parade of this first great event, Gedophamee observed the first wave of naked athletic males marching toward her and she exclaimed:

“Oh! Limp pricks!”

Over the next two and a half millennium that expression morphed into the word “Olympics.”

So Now you know...

Don’t bother to thank me ... I enjoy learning about and discussing history.

This one is Compliment of J & H

An Arab and his Son

A young Arab boy asked his father: “What is that strange hat you are wearing?”

The father said: “Why my son, it is a “chechia”. In the desert it protects our heads from the intense heat of the sun.”

“And what is the long flowing robe you are wearing?” asked the boy.

“Oh, my son!” exclaimed the father, “It is very simple. This is a “djbellah”. As I have told you, in the desert, it is not only very hot, but the sand is always blowing. My djbellah protects the entire body.”

The son then asked: “But father, what about those ugly shoes you have on your feet?”

“These are “babouches” my son,” the father replied “You must understand that although the desert sands are very beautiful, they are also extremely hot. These babouches keep us from burning our feet.”

“So tell me then...” added the boy.

“Yes, my son?”

“Why are you living in Minnesota and still wearing all this shit?”

When you’re seventy, ... who cares?

I was standing at the bar one night minding my own business, when this FAT ugly chick came up behind me, grabbed my behind and said, “You’re kind’a cute. You gotta phone number?”

I said, “Yeah, you gotta pen?”

She said, “Yeah, I got a pen.”

I said, “You better get back in it before the farmer misses you.”

Cost me 6 stitches ... but,

When you’re seventy ... who cares?

I was telling a woman in the pub about my ability to guess what day a woman was born just by feeling her breasts.

“Really” she said, “Go on then ... try.”

After about thirty seconds of fondling she began to lose patience and said, “Come on, what day was I born?”

I said, “Yesterday.”

Cost me a knee in the nuts, but...

When you’re seventy ... who cares?

I went to the bar last night and saw a BIG woman dancing on a table.

I said, “Great legs!”

The girl giggled and said, “Do you really think so?”

I said, “Definitely! Most tables would have collapsed by now.”

Cost me 6 more stitches, but...

When you’re seventy ... who cares???

Nice thing about two people on a snowmobile is they can be friendly.

Not so nice is the fact that if it’s snowmobiling weather, the parts you want to be friendly with are under six layers of insulation.