A guy had an interesting experience recently involving an “older” woman he met at a bar.
She looked pretty darn HOT for 62. She was drinking quite a bit and, while they were chatting, she came right out and asked him if he’d ever had a “sportsman’s double” - a mother and daughter threesome.
He said no, but she might be able to talk him into it. So she slams back one last drink, wipes her mouth and, looking directly into his eyes, says, “Tonight’s your lucky night.”
So they go back to her place, she clicks on the hall light right as they enter her place, and she shouts upstairs:
“Mom! You still awake?”
Steve works hard tiling and spends two nights each week playing Pool and plays golf every Saturday. Linda thinks he’s pushing himself too hard, so for his birthday she takes him to a local strip club.
The doorman at the club greets them and says,
‘Hey, Steve! How are you doing?’
Linda is puzzled and asks if he’s been to this club before. ‘Oh no,´says Steve. ‘He’s in my Pool team.’
When they are seated, a waitress asks Steve if he’d like his usual and brings over a Budweiser. Linda is becoming increasingly uncomfortable and says, ‘How did she know that you drink Budweiser?’ ‘Oh’ said Steve, ‘now I recognize her; she’s the waitress from the golf club. I always have a Bud at the end of
the 1st nine holes, darling.’
A stripper then comes over to their table, throws her arms around Steve, starts to rub herself all over him and says, ‘Hi Stevie. Want your usual table dance, big boy?’
Linda, now furious, grabs her bag and storms out of the club. Steve follows and spots her getting into a cab. Before she can slam the door, he jumps in beside her.
Steve tries desperately to explain how the stripper must have mistaken him for someone else, but Linda is having none of it. She is screaming at him at the top of her lungs, calling him every 4 letter word in the book.
The cabby turns around and says, ‘Bloody hell Steve, you´ve picked up a real bitch this time.’
The funeral for Steve is on Friday.
A police officer pulls over a speeding car. The officer says, ” I clocked you at 80 miles per hour, sir.”
The driver says, “Gee, officer I had it on cruise control at 60, perhaps your radar gun needs calibrating.”
Not looking up from her knitting the wife says: “Now don’t be silly dear, you know that this car doesn’t have cruise control.”
As the officer writes out the ticket, the driver looks over at his wife and growls, “Can’t you please keep your mouth shut for once?”
The wife smiles demurely and says, “You should be thankful your radar detector went off when it did.”
As the officer makes out the second ticket for the illegal radar detector unit, the man glowers at his wife and says through clenched teeth, “Darn it, woman, can’t you keep your mouth shut?”
The officer frowns and says, “And I notice that you’re not wearing your seat belt, sir. That’s an automatic $75 fine.”
The driver says, “Yeah, well, you see officer, I had it on, but took it off when you pulled me over so that I could get my license out of my back pocket.”
The wife says, “Now, dear, you know very well that you didn’t have your seat belt on. You never wear your seat belt when you’re driving.”
And as the police officer is writing out the third ticket the driver turns to his wife and barks, “WHY DON’T YOU PLEASE SHUT UP??”
The officer looks over at the woman and asks, “Does your husband always talk to you this way, Ma’am?”
I love this part….
“Only when he’s been drinking.”
“Hello, is this the Sheriff’s Office?”
“Yes. What can I do for you?”
“I’m calling to report ’bout my neighbor Virgil Smith….He’s hidin’ marijuana inside his firewood! Don’t quite know how he gets it inside them logs, but he’s hidin’ it there.”
“Thank you very much for the call, sir.”
The next day, the Sheriff’s Deputies descend on Virgil’s house. They searched the shed where the firewood is kept. Using axes, they bust open every piece of wood, but find no marijuana. They sneer at Virgil and leave.
Shortly, the phone rings at Virgil’s house.
“Hey, Virgil! This here’s Floyd….Did the Sheriff come?”
“Yeah!”
“Did they chop your firewood?”
“Yep!”
“Happy Birthday, buddy!”
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It is with the saddest heart that we must pass on the following news item:
Please join us in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community.
The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71. Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, The California Raisins, Betty Crocker, The Hostess Twinkies and Cap’n Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours. Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he still, as a crusty old man, was considered a roll model for millions. Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play Dough, his children, John and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.