… because he can.
I don’t know if it’s particularly well known, but everyone “gets it” immediately:
Say pretty much anything at all in a suggestive voice, and people will think of sex. Like a “cool dude/stoner” type voice. This is really hard to figure out how to type it out, though… Usually in the form “X-ing the Some-thing”
Span-king the Mon-key
Rid-ing the Horse-ie
Do-ing the Laun-dry
Study-ing the Cal-culus
You can get the most innocuous things to sound really dirty. A few years back my brother and I kept this joke going for a whole weekend… we were in tears most of the time, from laughter, while my mom was nearly in tears from annoyance.
Yes, but who actually slaps primates? The others I can understand.
poker? I hardly know her! liquor? I hardly know her! and so on and so forth
Ah, you’re venturing into a favourite (non-sexual) cheesy joke area of mine:
Jakarta?
Genoa?
Jamaica?
Etc
And one for the Australians out there:
“Aaah, thought I’d take the missus. After all, she stuck by me through the drought!”
“That up-and-down part mighta come natcherl, but that round-and-round, now, that was learned!”
“Well, iffin’ dat towel dries out soft, I’m a-gonna shave.”
Some Asshat: FUCKER!
Me: You fuck her, you brought her.
This will not be well known, but a girlfriend and I used to take frequent weekend getaways to a friend’s cabin and we always drove by Wanamingo, MN.
I will always hear the name of that town in the tone that mnemosyne mentions.
Everybody’s heard this in elementary school.
In 6th grade, Johnny Fuckerfaster and a girl classmate decided to go to her house and have sex. She led them down to the basement and told him “Make it quick, my mom’s going to be home soon.”
As they were fucking, the girl’s mom came home earlier than expected and opened the door to the basement. When she the two kids going at it, she screamed “Johnny! Johnny Fuckerfaster!”
“Hell, I’m fuckin’ her as fast as I can!”
My mother used this expression all the time… until my father asked her if she knew what it meant. She stopped rather quickly.
I haven’t.
Well, what does it mean?
I get that part, I just don’t understand why the rabbi would suggest it in the first place.
That explains it, but that was a pretty poor telling of the joke.
Anyone have a good telling of the joke, before I read that one?
Yeah, it was!
How about this one: Take off zee bra, baby!
http://www.coopsjokes.com/p401-450/page443.htm
Do a “find” on barrel.
The rabbi knew what the wife really needed was a virile young stud, but he had to sell the idea to the husband.
My oath, that’s just taken me back to about 1969…!
Wilbur worked on a farm and Friday was payday, which coincided with the farm hands heading in to town for a good time. Friday afternoon, Wilbur’s boss said, “I’m sorry, son, but I didn’t get to the bank today to draw out your cash pay. To make it up to you, take a big duck with you, sell it, have fun with the money, and I’ll give you your regular pay come Monday morning.”
Unsure how it would work out, Wilbur grabbed a duck and headed in to town. He didn’t find any place to sell the duck, and ended up in a dive bar, sucking down a beer with his last monies. A pretty lady of the evening eyed him up and asked if he wanted to party. He apologized, saying he was broke. She looked him up and down and said, “You’re a cutie-I’ll do you for the duck.”
Heading back to her place, Wilbur excelled with bedroom prowess, pleasing this experienced gal to the point that she begged him to do her again. “But you already have the duck, now. I can’t pay for more,” he protested. “Shhh, and get over here. You ring my bell like that again, and I’ll give you the duck back!” So, Wilbur enjoyed another session of earthly delights, after which they both fell upon the sheets in happy exhaustion.
“You are something, fella,” she commented. “Here’s an address of a friend of mine. I want you to stop over there and do her like you did me.” Dutifully, Wilbur headed over to the address, duck in hand, and upon his arrival, knocked on the door. A big man yanked open the door and asked what was up. “I’m here to see Suzie,” Wilbur answered. “Suzie’s busy, but don’t you make a fuss, fella,” the big man replied, pressing a $10 bill into Wilbur’s hand with a wink.
Wilbur went and had another beer, and headed back to the farm.
On Monday morning, the farmer asked him how his weekend in town turned out.
The version I heard involved a young man named Johnny Getoffthatlittletrampeverybodyknowsshehastheclap.