An Irishman named Murphy went to his doctor after a long illness. The doctor, after a lengthy examination, sighed and looked Murphy in the eye and said, "I've some bad news for you. You have cancer and it can't be cured. I'd give you two weeks to a month."

Murphy shocked and saddened by the news, but of solid character, managed to compose himself and walk from the doctor's office into the waiting room. There he saw his son who had been waiting. Murphy said, "Son, we Irish celebrate when things are good and celebrate when things don't go so well. In this case, things aren't so well. I have cancer and I've been given a short time to live. Let's head for the pub and have a few pints."

After three or four pints the two were feeling a little less somber. There were some laughs and more beers. They were eventually approached by some of Murphy's old friends who asked what the two were celebrating.

Murphy told them that the Irish celebrate the good and the bad. He went on to tell them that they were drinking to his impending end. He told his friends "I've only got a few weeks to live as I have been diagnosed with AIDS." The friends gave Murphy their condolences and they had a couple more beers.

After his friends left, Murphy's son leaned over and whispered his confusion. "Dad I thought you said that you were dying from cancer? You just told your friends that you were dying from AIDS?"

Murphy said, " I am dying from cancer son, I just don't want any of them fooling around with yer mother after I'm gone."

A wife woke up in the middle of the night to find her husband missing from bed. She got out of bed and checked around the house. She heard sobbing from the basement. After turning on the light and descending the stairs, she found he husband curled up into a little ball, sobbing.

"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked, worried about what could hurt him so much.

"Remember, 20 years ago, I got you pregnant? And your father threatened me to marry you or to go to jail?"

"Yes, of course," she replied.

"Well, I would have been released tonight."

One day an Irishman, who had been stranded on a deserted island for over 10 years, saw a speck on the horizon. He thought to himself, 'It's certainly not a ship.' And, as the speck got closer and closer, he began to rule out the possibilities of a small boat or even a raft.
Suddenly there emerged from the surf a wet-suited black clad figure. Putting aside the scuba gear and the top of the wet suit, there stood a drop-dead gorgeous blonde! The glamorous blonde strode up to the stunned Irishman and said to him 'Tell me, how long has it been since you've had a cigarette?'
'Ten years,' replied the amazed Irishman. With that, she reached over and unzipped a waterproofed pocket on the left sleeve of her wet suit, and pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes. He takes one, lights it, and takes a long drag. 'Faith and begorra,'said the man, 'that is so good I'd almost forgotten how great a smoke can be!'
'And how long has it been since you've had a drop of good Irish whiskey'
asked the blonde Trembling, the castaway replied, 'Ten years.' Hearing that, the blonde reaches over to her right sleeve unzips a pocket there and removes a flask and hands it to him. He opened the flask and took a long drink.
'Tis nectar of the gods!' stated the Irishman. 'Tis truly fantastic!'
At this point the gorgeous blonde started to slowly unzip the long front of her wet suit, right down the middle.. She looked at the trembling man and asked, 'And how long has it been since you played around?'
With tears in his eyes, the Irishman fell to his knees and sobbed: ' Don't tell me you've got golf clubs in there too!

The Personnel Manager said, "Mujibar, you have passed all the tests, except one. Unless you pass it , you cannot
qualify for this job."

Mujibar said, "I am ready."

The manager said, "Make a sentence using the words Yellow, Pink and Green."

Mujibar thought for a few minutes and said, "Mister manager, I am ready"

The manager said, "Go ahead."

Mujibar said, "The telephone goes green, green, and I pink it up, and say, 'Yellow', this is Mujibar."

Mujibar now works at a call center.

No doubt you have spoken to him. I know I have.

Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two:
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them..

Rule Three:
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four:
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a 'Barrier method' of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five:
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is: 'early.'

Rule Six:
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven:
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process than can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge . Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual themes are to be avoided; movies which feature chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi . When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

1.) "I'll swallow it all...I just love the taste!"
2.) "Are you sure you've had enough beer?"
3.) "I'm bored. Let's shave my pussy!"
4.) "Oh come on, what do ya say we get a good porno movie, a case of beer, a few joints, and have my friend Tawnee over for a threesome!"
5.) "If I don't get to blow you soon, I swear I'm gonna bust!"
6.) "I know it's a lot tighter back there but would you please try again?"
7.) "You're so sexy when you're hung over."
8.) "I'd rather watch football and drink beer with you than go shopping."
9.) "Let's subscribe to Hustler."
10.) "Would you like to watch me go down on my girlfriend?"
11.) "Say, let's go down to the mall so you can check out women's asses."
12.) "I'll be out painting the house."
13.) "I love it when you play golf on Sunday's, I just wish you had time to play on Saturday, too."
14.) "Honey, our new neighbor's daughter is sunbathing again, come see!"
15.) "I've decided to stop wearing clothes around the house."
16.) "No, no, I'll take the car to have the oil changed."
17.) "Your mother did a great job raising you."
18.) "Do me a favor, forget the stupid Valentine's Day thing and buy yourself new clubs."
19.) "I understand fully. Our anniversary comes every year for God's sake. You go hunting with the guys, it's a wonderful stress reliever."
20.) "Shouldn't you be down at the bar with your buddies?"
21.) "Not the fucking mall again, come on let's go to that new strip joint!" 22.) "Listen, I make enough money for the both of us, why don't you retire and get that nagging handicap down to 7 or 8."
23.) "You need your sleep ya big silly, now stop getting up for the night feedings."
24.) "That was a great fart! Do another one!"
25.) "I signed up for yoga so that I can get my ankles behind my head for ya!"

The inventor of the Harley-Davidson motorcycle, Arthur Davidson, died and went to heaven. At the gates, St. Peter told Arthur, "Since you've been such a good man and your motorcycles have changed the world, your reward is, you can hang out with anyone you want in Heaven."

Arthur thought about it for a minute and then said, "I want to hang out with God."

St. Peter took Arthur to the Throne Room, and introduced him to God.

God recognized Arthur and commented, "Okay, so you were the one who invented the Harley Davidson motorcycle!"

Arthur said, "Yeah, that's me..."

God commented: "Well, what's the big deal in inventing something that's pretty unstable, makes noise and pollution, and can't run without a road?"

Arthur was apparently embarrassed, but finally spoke,

"Excuse me, but aren't you the inventor of woman?"

God said, "Ah, yes."

"Well," said Arthur, "professional to professional, you have some major design flaws in your invention:

1. There's too much inconsistency in the front-end protrusion;

2. It chatters constantly at high speeds;

3. Most of the rear ends are too soft and wobble too much;

4. The intake is placed way too close to the exhaust;

5. And the maintenance costs are outrageous!!"

"Hmmmm, you may have some good points there," replied God, "hold on."

God went to his Celestial super-computer, typed in a few words and waited for the results. The computer printed out a slip of paper and God read it.

"Well, it may be true that my invention is flawed," God said to Arthur, "but according to these numbers, more men are riding my invention than yours."

Teacher asks her class, "What is the animal depicted on a weather vane?"
Little Johnny, the infamous troublemaker, says, "I know, teacher, I know."
Against her better judgment she calls on him and he says, "Teacher, it is a cock."
Teacher asks the class, "Why is a cock on a weather vane?"
"I know, I know, teacher," says Johnny.
"OK, Johnny, Why?"
"Because, teacher, if it had a cunt on it, the wind would whistle right through it."

Way down in the out-ports of Newfoundland, Murph's old lady had been pregnant for some time and now the time had come.
He brought her to the doctor and the doctor began to deliver the baby.She had a little boy, and the doctor looked over at Murphy and said. 'Hey, Murph! You just had you a son!'Ain't dat grand!!' Murph got excited by this, but just then the doctor spoke up and said, 'Hold on! We ain't finished yet!'The doctor then delivered a little girl. He said, 'Hey, Murph! You got you a daughter!!!! She is a pretty lil ting, too....'Murph got kind of puzzled by this and then the doctor said, 'Hold on, we ain't got done yet!'
The doctor then delivered another boy and said, 'Murph, you just had yourself another boy!'Murph said to the doctor, 'Doc, what caused all of dem babies?'
The doctor said, 'You never know Murph, it was probably something that happened during conception.'
Murph said, 'Ah yeah, during conception.'When Murph
and his wife went home with their three children, he sat down with his wife and said, 'Mama, you remember dat night that we ran out of Vaseline and we had to use dat dere 3-in-1 Oil.'
She said, 'Yeah, I remember dat night...'
Murph said, 'I'll tell you, bye, it's a fookin' good ting we didn't use dat WD-40!!'

If you don't believe it, just try this experiment.

Put your dog and your wife in the trunk of the car for an hour.

When you open the trunk, which one is really happy to see you!?