Cinderella is now 95 years old. After a fulfilling life with the now dead prince, she happily sits upon her rocking chair, watching the world go by from her front porch, with a cat named Bob for companionship.



One sunny afternoon out of nowhere, appeared the fairy godmother. Cinderella said, "Fairy Godmother, what are you doing here after all these years"?



The fairy godmother replied, "Cinderella, you have lived an exemplary life since I last saw you. Is there anything for which your heart still yearns?



Cinderella was taken aback, overjoyed, and after some thoughtful consideration, she uttered her first wish: "The prince was wonderful, but not much of an investor. I'm living hand to mouth on my disability checks, and I wish I were wealthy beyond comprehension.



Instantly her rocking chair turned into solid gold



Cinderella said, "Ooh, thank you, Fairy Godmother".



The fairy godmother replied "it is the least that I can do. What do you want for your second wish?"



Cinderella looked down at her frail body, and said, "I wish I were young and full of the beauty and youth I once had."



At once, her wish became reality, and her beautiful young visage returned. Cinderella felt stirrings inside of her that had been dormant for years.



And then the fairy godmother spoke once more: "You have one more wish; what shall it be?"



Cinderella looks over to the frightened cat in the corner and says, "I wish for you to transform Bob, my old cat, into a kind and handsome young man."



Magically, Bob suddenly underwent so fundamental a change in his biological make-up that, when he stood before her, he was a man so beautiful the likes of him neither she nor the world had ever seen.



The fairy godmother said, "Congratulations, Cinderella, enjoy your new life. With a blazing shock of bright blue electricity, the fairy godmother was gone as suddenly as she appeared.



For a few eerie moments, Bob and Cinderella looked into each other's eyes. Cinderella sat, breathless, gazing at the most beautiful, stunningly perfect man she had ever seen.



Then Bob walked over to Cinderella, who sat transfixed in her rocking chair, &held her close in his young muscular arms. He leaned in close, blowing her golden hair with his warm breath as he whispered.........






"Bet you're sorry you neutered me."

 

BONUS POINTS FOR A GREAT JOB DONE...

A gynecologist was getting sick of his job and decided that he needed a career change. He'd always enjoyed tinkering with engines so thought he'd become a mechanic.

He decided to attend a mechanics school; the final test was to strip the engine completely and reassemble it, obviously back into perfect working order.

So our gynecologist friend took the test and anxiously awaited the result. The day he received the results he got quite a surprise: he got 150%!

He quickly phoned the instructor and questioned the results.

The instructor said, "No no, that's right.

First I gave you 50% for stripping down the engine-a very thorough job.

Next I gave you 50% for reassembling it - a fantastic job really.

Then I gave you a 50% bonus for doing it all through the muffler."

 

Homeland Security has finally cleared up the confusion about the airlines putting Senator Ted Kennedy's name on the "No-Fly" list.

In fact, he was supposed to be on the rental car "No-Drive" list!

 

Harold is 95 and lives in a senior citizen home.

Every night after dinner Harold goes to a secluded garden behind the Center to sit and ponder his accomplishments and long life.

One evening, Mildred, age 87 wanders into the garden.

They begin to chat, and before they know it several hours have passed.

After a short lull in their conversation Harold turns to Mildred and asks, "Do you know what I miss most of all?"

She asks," What?"

"SEX!!" he replies

Mildred exclaims,"Why you old fart, you couldn't get it up if I held a gun to your head!"

"I know," Harold says,"but it would be nice if a woman could just hold it for a while."

"Well, I can oblige,"says Mildred,who unzips his trousers, removes his manhood and and proceeds to hold it.

Afterward, they agree to meet secretly each night in the garden where they would sit and talk, and Mildred would hold Harold's manhood.

Then, one night Harold didn't show up at their usual meeting place.

Alarmed, Mildred decided to find Harold and make sure he was O.K.

She walked around the senior citizen home where she found him sitting by the pool with another female resident. Ethel, who was holding Harold's manhood!
Furious, Mildred yelled,"You two-timing creep! What does Ethel have that I don't have?"

Old Harold smiled happily and replied, "Parkinson's!"

 

Women can be so insensitive

Ralph returns from the doctor and tells his wife that the doctor has
told him he has only 24 hours to live.

Given this prognosis, Ralph asks his wife for sex. Naturally, she
agrees, and they make love.

About six hours later, the husband goes to his wife and
says, "Honey, you know I now have only 18 hours to live. Could we please
do it one more time?" Of course, the wife agrees and they do it again.

Later, as the man gets into bed, he looks at his watch and realizes he
now has only 8 hours left. He touches his wife's shoulder and asks,
"Honey, please...just one more time before I die?" she says, "Of
course, dear." And they make love for the third time.

After this session, the wife rolls over & falls asleep.

Ralph, however, worried about his impending death, tosses &
turns until he's down to 4 more hours. He taps his wife, who rouses.
"Honey, I have only 4 more hours. Do you think we could.....?"


At this point the wife sits up and says, "Listen Ralph, I have to get up
in the morning . You don't."

 

An elderly couple were sitting around one evening and the man says to his wife, "We are about to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary. We've had a wonderful life together, full of contentment and blessings. But there's something I've always wondered about -- tell me, have you ever been unfaithful to me?"

She hesitates a while and then says, "Yes, three times."

"Three times? How did it happen?" the man asks.

The wife begins slowly, "Well, do you remember right after we were married and we were broke and the bank was going to foreclose on our little house?"

"Yes, that was really a terrible time," he replies.

The wife continues, "And remember when I went to see the banker one night and the next day the bank extended our loan?"

"It is hard to take," the man says, "but I guess it really was for us and I can forgive you. What was the second time?"

"Well," she continues, "do you remember years later when you almost died from the heart problem because we couldn't afford the operation?"

"Yes, I do," the man replies.

"Then you remember that right after I went to see the doctor, he did your operation at no cost?" the wife continues.

"Yes," says the husband. "That shocks me too, but I understand you did it because of your love for me and I forgive you. But what was the third time?"

The wife lowers her head and says, "Remember when you ran for president of the Town Rotary Club and needed 62 more votes?"

 

Bubba and The Tazer

My friends are fond of saying that my last words on this earth will be something akin to, "hey y'all, hold my beer and watch this!" Well, I have outdone myself once again. No doubt you will see this true story chronicled in a LifeTime movie in the near future.

Here goes: Last weekend I spied something at Larry's Pistol and Pawn that tickled my fancy. (Note: Keep in mind that my "fancy" is easily tickled. I had gone into the Star Market to pick up some milk yesterday and I bought a superball in the checkout line -- 50 cents. What a bargain! It tickled my fancy--still does. That thing bounces soooooo high, and it has provided me with hours of entertainment. It just doesn't get any better than that, now does it?) I'm so easily distracted. That dang superball is so much fun.

So what were we talking about? Oh yeah, I bought something really cool at Larry's Pistol and Pawn last Saturday. The occasion was my birthday and I was looking for a little something extra cool. What I came across was a 100,000 volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer gun with a clip. For those of you who are not familiar with this product, it is a less-than-lethal stun gun with two metal prongs designed to incapacitate an assailant with a shock of high-voltage, low amperage electricity while you flee to safety. The effects are supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, but allowing you adequate time to retreat to safety. You simply jab the prongs into your 250 lb. tattooed assailant, push the button, and it will render him a slobbering, goggle-eyed, muscle-twitching, whimpering, pencil-neck geek. If you've never seen one of these things in action, then you're truly missing out--way too cool!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was so disappointed.

Upon reading the directions (we don't need no stinkin' directions), I found much to my chagrin that this particular model would not create an arc between the prongs. How disappointing! I do love fire for effect. I learned that if I pushed the button, however, and pressed it against a metal surface that I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs that I was so looking forward to.

I did so. Awesome!!! Sparks, a blue arc of electricity, and a loud pop!!! Yipeeeeee . . . I'm easily amused.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, etc., etc. There I sat in my recliner, my dog Molly looking on intently (trusting little soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not Molly), and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood target. I must admit I thought about zapping Molly for a fraction of a second and thought better of it. She is such a sweet doggy, after all.

But, if I was going to use this thing to protect myself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? Was I wrong to think that? Seemed reasonable to me at the time . So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, Tazer in another.

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. All the while I'm looking at this little device (measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference, pretty cute really, and loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself, "no bloody way!" Bloody way--trust me, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best. Those of you who know me well have got a pretty good idea of what followed. I'm sitting there alone, Molly looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it daddy," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny lil' ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad (sound, rational thinking under the circumstances, wouldn't you agree?). I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the hell of it. (Note: You know, a bad decision is like hindsight--always twenty-twenty. It is so obvious that it was a bad decision after the fact, even though it seemed so right at the time. Don't ya hate that?)

I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and Holy F**king Chit! DAMN!!! I'm pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in through the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, then body slammed me on the carpet over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position. Molly was standing over me making whimpering sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "do it again daddy, do it again!" (Note: If you ever feel compelled to mug yourself with a Tazer, one note of caution. There is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You're not going to let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. Then, if you're lucky, you won't dislodge one of the prongs 1/4" deep in your thigh like yours truly.)

SON-OF-A-B $% *H that hurt! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at this point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, as my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. +/- an ounce or two, I'm pretty sure. By the way, has anyone seen my testicles? I think they ran away. I'm offering a reward.

Yours Truly.

Bubba

 

Three women die together in an accident and go to heaven.

When they get there, St. Peter says, "We only have one rule here in heaven: don't step on the ducks!"

So they enter heaven, and sure enough, there are ducks all over the place. It is almost impossible not to step on a duck, and although they try their best to avoid them, the first woman accidentally steps on one.

Along comes St. Peter with the ugliest man she ever saw.

St. Peter chains them together and says, "Your punishment for stepping on a duck is to spend eternity chained to this ugly man!"

The next day, the second woman steps accidentally on a duck and along comes St. Peter, who doesn't miss a thing. With him is another extremely ugly man. He chains them together with the same admonishment as for the first woman.

The third woman has observed all this and, not wanting to be chained for all eternity to an ugly man, is very, VERY careful where she steps.

She manages to go months without stepping on any ducks, but one day St. Peter comes up to her with the most handsome man she has ever laid eyes on ... very tall, long eyelashes, muscular, and thin.

St. Peter chains them together without saying a word.

The happy woman says, "I wonder what I did to deserve being chained to you for all of eternity?"

The guy says, "I don't know about you, but I stepped on a duck!"

 

I can't remember where I first heard this. I hope it was not here.


Some friends were sitting at the bar talking about their professions.

The first guy says "I'm a Y. U. P. P. I. E, you know... Young, Urban,
Professional, Peaceful, Intelligent, Ecologist"

The second guy says "I'm a D. I. N. K, you know.. Double, Income, No Kids."

The third guy says, "I'm a R. U. B., you know... Rich, Urban, Biker."

They turn to the woman and ask her, "What are you?" She replies: "I'm a WIFE, you know.... Wash, Iron, F**k, Etc."

A second gal answers their question before they even ask it: "BITCH."

"What exactly is a BITCH?!?", they ask in unison.

"Babe In Total Control of Herself."

So ladies, next time somebody calls you "Bitch"

SMILE... and say "Thank You!!"

 

These are some good jokes. I never ventured into this thread before now.