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Discussion in 'Uncategorized Threads' started by Luckyman, Sep 13, 2007.

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  1. Luckyman

    Luckyman Active Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    I thought I would share this one with everyone this morning! A little sick but funny!

    Two Middle East mothers are sitting in a cafe chatting over a plate of tabouli and a pint of goat's milk. The older of the mothers pulls a bag out of her purse and starts flipping through photos. And they start reminiscing.
    "This is my oldest son Mohammed. He would be 24 years old now."

    "Yes, I remember him as a baby" says the other mother cheerfully.

    "He's a martyr now though" mum confides.

    "Oh, so sad dear" says the other.

    And this is my second son Kalid. He would be 21"

    "Oh, I remember him," says the other happily, "he had such curly hair when he was born".

    "He's a martyr too" says mum quietly.

    "Oh, gracious me ..." Says the other.

    "And this is my third son. My baby. My beautiful Ahmed.

    He would be 18, she whispers.

    "Yes" says the friend enthusiastically, "I remember when he first started school".

    He's a martyr also," says mum, with tears in her eyes.

    After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Muslim mother looks

    wistfully at the photographs and says...

    "They blow up so fast, don't they?"
  2. FarmerD

    FarmerD TS Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    Subject: Chemistry test
    >>>> The following is an actual question given on a University of
    >>>> Washington chemistry mid term.
    >>>> The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor
    >>>> shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course,
    >>>> why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well:
    >>>> Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic
    >>>> (absorbs heat)?
    >>>> Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's
    >>>> Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or
    >>>> some variant.
    >>>> One student, however, wrote the following:
    >>>> First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So
    >>>> we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and
    >>>> the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely
    >>>> assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave.
    >>>> Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering
    >>>> Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world
    >>>> today.
    >>>> Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their
    >>>> religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of
    >>>> these religions and since people do not belong to more than one
    >>>> religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and
    >>>> death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell
    >>>> to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of
    >>>> the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the
    >>>> temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of
    >>>> Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.
    >>>> This gives two possibilities:
    >>>> 1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which
    >>>> souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will
    >>>> increase until all Hell breaks loose.
    >>>> 2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls
    >>>> in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell
    >>>> freezes over.
    >>>> So which is it?
    >>>> If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman
    >>>> year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,"
    >>>> and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night,
    >>>> then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is
    >>>> exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this
    >>>> theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is
    >>>> not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct......leaving
    >>>> only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which
    >>>> explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God, Oh my God."
  3. flinter58

    flinter58 TS Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    A trucker who has been out on the road for three weeks stops into a brothel outside Vegas. He walks straight up to the Madam, drops down $500 and says, "I want your ugliest woman and a baloney sandwich!!!"
    The Madam is astonished. "But sir, for that kind of money you could have one of my finest ladies and a three-course meal."
    The trucker replies, "Listen sweetheart, I ain't horny, I'm homesick."
  4. Bubba

    Bubba Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    Baton Rouge Louisiana

    All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a
    malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a
    sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But
    more importantly for this story, it had been over
    forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd
    tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with
    a bowl of chit cleansing fiber cereal, following it
    with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a
    bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell.

    As I was returning home from work, my
    insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the
    emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things
    would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the
    mall to pick up an order for the wife. I completed
    this task, and as I was walking past the stores on
    my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign
    proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic,
    for my colon informed me with a sudden violent
    cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was
    indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathrooms. I
    surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 1
    through 5 for your convenience:

    1. Occupied.

    2. Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as
    it's next to the occupied one.

    3. chit smeared on seat.

    4. chit and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable
    liquid splattered on seat.

    5. No toilet paper, no stall door, something growing
    near base of toilet.

    Clearly, it had to be Stall #2. I trudged back,
    entered, dropped my trousers and sat down. I'm normally a
    fairly Shameful chitter. I wasn't happy about being
    next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.

    I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a
    sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next
    door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound
    of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a
    cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB
    louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my
    sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on
    and on. Mr. chitter was blathering to Mrs. chitter
    about the chitty day he had. I sat there, cramping and
    miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud
    conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier,
    thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too
    polite to yak about in public. My chit let me know in
    no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon,
    my day
    would be getting even crappier.

    Finally my anger reached a point that overcame
    Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet
    paper holder with one hand, braced my other hand
    against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my
    might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal
    magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone
    ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood
    being torn off a wall. The sound gradually
    transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone,
    not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to
    hit the resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook

    Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze,
    three things became apparent:

    (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my
    colon's continued seizing indicated that there was
    more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by
    a horrible, eldritch stench.

    It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The
    foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and
    began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald"
    fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.

    "Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with
    suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby,
    that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear
    that (gag)??"

    Now there was no stopping me. I pushed for all I was
    worth. I could swear that in the resulting cacophony
    of rips, squirts, splashes, poots, and blasts, I was
    actually lifted slightly off the pot. The amount of
    stuff in
    me was incredible. It sprayed against the bowl with
    tremendous force. Later, in surveying the damage, I'd
    see that liquid poop had actually managed to
    ricochet out of the bowl and run down the side on to
    the floor. But for now, all I could do was hang on for
    the ride.

    Next door I could hear him fumbling with the paper
    dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task.
    Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard
    over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw
    up... in my mouth... not... make it... tell the
    kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more
    sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.

    Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one's phone
    and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my
    high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I
    heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by
    string of swear words and gags. My ****-mate had
    dropped his phone into the toilet.

    There was a lull in my production, and the restroom
    became deathly quiet. I could envision him standing
    there, wondering what to do. A final anal announcement
    came trumpeting from my behind, small chunks plopping
    noisily into the water. That must have been the last
    straw. I heard a flush, a fumbling with the lock, and
    then the stall door was thrown open. I heard him
    running out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind

    After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and
    surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd
    be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing
    was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle
    unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor
    flooded with filth.

    As I left, I glanced into the next-door stall. Nothing
    remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had
    he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty
    unwashed hands? The world will never know.

    I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and
    Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me.
    But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my
    elimination has managed to transfer my Shamefulness to
    my anonymous chit-mate. I think it'll be a long time
    before he can bring himself to chit in public -- and I
    doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the
    And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on
    your phone in the bathroom.
  5. 22hornet

    22hornet Well-Known Member

    Jun 22, 2007
    Hanford, CA
    My goodness!1
  6. jackmitch

    jackmitch TS Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    bubba tears are running down my face i'm laughing so hard.that is hilarious.
  7. gotbass

    gotbass Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    best laugh in a long time. thanks.
  8. harleypilot

    harleypilot Member

    Jan 7, 2007
    I was laughing so hard this morning reading these, that I woke my wife who was sleeping clear back in the bedroom.
  9. Mdl1261

    Mdl1261 Member

    Feb 13, 2007
    Hey BUBBA!!
    You owe me a new pair of shorts I laughed so hard .Very good !1
  10. buzzgun

    buzzgun Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    Intelligently written...classless...and unrepentant (in both cases). Love it...
  11. Bubba

    Bubba Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    Baton Rouge Louisiana
    A woman was in a coma, been in it for 6 months.

    Nurses were in her room giving her a bed bath. One of them was

    washing her private area and noticed that there was a slight response on the

    monitor when she touched her. They tried it again and sure enough there

    was a small recognizable movement.

    They went to her husband and explained what had happened, telling him "crazy

    as this sounds, maybe a little oral sex will do the trick and bring her out

    of her coma". The husband was skeptical, but they assured him

    that they'd close the curtain for privacy.

    The husband finally agreed and went into his wife's room. After a few

    minutes the women's monitor was flat lined, no pulse, no heart


    The nurses ran into the room. "What happened?" they cried.

    The husband said, "I'm not sure, maybe she choked".
  12. Bubba

    Bubba Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    Baton Rouge Louisiana
    Ralph is driving home one evening when he suddenly realizes that it's his daughter's birthday and he hasn't bought her a present.
    He drives to the mall, runs to the toy store and says to the shop assistant, "How much is that Barbie in the window?"

    In a condescending manner, she asks, "Which Barbie?"

    She continues, "We have Barbie Goes to the Gym for $19.95, Barbie Goes to the Ball for $19.95, Barbie Goes Shopping for $19.95, Barbie Goes to the Beach for $19.95, Barbie Goes Nightclubbing for $19.95, and Divorced Barbie for $265.00."

    Ralph asks, "Why is the Divorced Barbie $265.00 when all the others are only $19.95?"

    "That's obvious," the sales lady replies. "The Divorced Barbie comes with Ken's house, Ken's car, Ken's boat, and Ken's furniture."
  13. Hipshot 3

    Hipshot 3 TS Member

    Sep 14, 2007
    What is Tabouli? Can I cook it?
  14. Ahab

    Ahab Well-Known Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    No you don't cook Tabooli!


    3 cups Parsley

    3 cups Green Onions

    3 cups Tomatoes

    3 cups Bulgar

    2 sprigs fresh Mint

    2 Lemons, juiced

    ¼ cup Extra Virgin Olive oil

    Salt to taste

    Garlic… if desired

    Remove stems and chop parsley, thinly slice onions, dice tomatoes and mince the mint. Rinse bulgar and soak to "al dente" stage. Combine all the ingredients, and add salt and lemon juice, to taste.

    You scoop it up with lettuce leaves to eat it...or...you can use it as a salad/side dish.
  15. hairy

    hairy TS Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    Kiss Per Yard

    Walking up to a department store's fabric counter, a pretty girl asked, "I want to buy this material for a new dress. How much does it cost?"

    "Only one kiss per yard," replied the smirking male clerk.

    "That's fine," replied the girl. "I'll take ten yards."

    With expectation and anticipation written all over his face, the clerk quickly measured out and wrapped the cloth, then teasingly held it out.

    The girl snapped up the package and pointed to a little old man standing beside her. "Grandpa will pay the bill," she smiled.
  16. JDinTX

    JDinTX Member

    Feb 16, 2006
    Bubba that Dump joke was the best laugh om TSC in a while. JD
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