Well, THAT answers MY joke very well:
Why was the ground all white after Custer’s Last Stand?
Coz the Indians kept coming and coming…
Earl is laid off from his job, so he heads down to the unemployment office. When the clerk asks him what he does, he says, “I work at the underwear factory. I put the elastic waistbands in the ladies’ panties.” The clerk looks the job up in the computer and says, “That’s unskilled labor. We’ll pay you $300 a week.”
Bob is also laid off from his job, so he also heads down to the unemployment office. When the clerk asks him what he does, he says, “Diesel fitter.” The clerk looks the job up in the computer and says, “That’s skilled labor. We’ll pay you $600 a week.”
Well, when Earl hears Bob is getting twice as much money, he storms down to the unemployment office and demands to know why. The clerk explains, “According to the computer, Bob’s job is skilled labor.”
“Skilled labor!” sputters Earl, “What skilled labor? I put the elastic waistband in the panties and show them to Bob and Bob says, ‘Diesel fitter.’”
ok, here goes.
Bob didn’t have any ears. He was very sensitive about his condition and got very upset whenever someone mentioned it. As he was interviewing people to work in his office, Bob always asked one last question: Take a look at me and tell me what you notice. Of course the candidates always said “you don’t have any ears.” Bob would get steamed up and order the candidate out of his office.
Finally, he had come to his last interview. He looked at the young man in fromt of him and said, “Look at me, and tell me what you notice.” The young man looked at Bob for a moment and said, "well, you’re married and you wear contact lenses.
Bob was astounded. "How did you know that I wear contact lenses?, he asked. And the young man, barely able to control his laughter said:
Cuz you ain’t got no damn ears!!!
The Pope is really sick–just all these bizarrs symptoms, and no doctors can figure it out. Finally, he finds this specialist who runs about a thousand different tests before calling the Pope back into his office.
The doctor says, “I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is, although this is a rare disease; this is a cure.”
“That’s great!” The pope says. “What’s the bad news?”
“Well,” the doctor says, “for anyone else, this, too, would be good news, but for you it’s not. . . part of the cure requires that you have sex with a woman. It’s not an easy decision, I’ll let you think about it.”
So the pope thinks about it, and comes back to the doctor’s office a week later with several bishops and cardinals with him.
“I’ve decided,” he said, “to take the cure. These men will find me a woman. But there’s four conditions. . . . "
“Anything!” said the bishops and cardinals; they just wanted the Pope do survive.
“She has to be blind, so she can never see who I am.”
“Oh no problem!”
“She has to mute, so she can never tell anyone about this, if she were to ever watch on.”
Oh of course!”
“She cannot be Catholic. I would never forgive myself for having sex with a Catholic girl.”
“Oh we understand! And lastly?”
“She has to have huge fucking tits.”
A group of teenage boys are hanging out on a street corner in a small suburban town. They are busy talking, bragging, cursing, and generally being teenage boys. Then, all of a sudden, they hear very loud, strange music. They look down the road to see that a man, wearing a large overcoat (remember that), carrying a ** very ** big speaker on his shoulder. He is walking away from them, dancing at a slow pace. While he dances along, he continually shouts, “72! 72! 72!(remember this too)”. His dancing is rather odd, and none of the boys thinks very much of it.
“I could dance way better than that guy,” one pipes up.
“Yeah, sure,” the others sneer. In response, the one gets up and begins to (keep remembering that overcoat)follow the man. The boys dancing is even worse than the man’s and his friends laugh uproariously. The man stops shouting and glances over his shoulder to see the boy following him; then returns to dancing and shouting. A few yards later he stops at a manhole and sets his stereo down. By this time the boy is very wrapped up in his dancing. The man reaches into his overcoat (did you remember?) and pulls out a crowbar, which he uses to quickly pry off the manhole cover. He then picks up his stereo and continues dancing and shouting. The boy’s friends have stopped laughiong, as they now realize he is dancing straight toawrd an open manhole. They scream and yell at him to stop, but he is too wrapped up in his dancing to notice. Before he can stop himself, he falls down the manhole. The man, having turned to look just in time to see the boy fall, turns a nearby corner, still dancing and shouting; but he is now shouting . . .
“73! 73! 73!”
Time: March, 1999
A computer programmer, Joe, was having a career crisis. He was well versed in COBOL, and as such many companies and individuals wanted him to fix their system to be Y2K complaint. Joe had done several hundred already, and was very stressed out. He finally cracked, and arranged to be cryogenically frozen (yes, he was very wealthy) and revived in 2001. Joe had a relieved expressipon on his face when he was anesthetized to be frozen.
When he awoke, he was surrounded by a group of young men and women in pure, industrial, eye-frying white jumpsuits. At sight of Joe’s consciousness, they all cheered, yelled, and exhibited signs of extreme happiness.
“Signal the President!” one yelled. What Joe had previously thought was a large black wall melted into the face of a man who looked suspiciously like Bill Gates.
“I am the President of the Earth,” the man said. “We are a unified species. There is no crime, famine, poverty, aging, war or disease. Peace has come.” Joe was overjoyed to hear this, but had one question.
“How did you accomplish all this in two years?” he asked.
“Two years!,” the president exclaimed. “I’m afraid you’ve been frozen for almost eight thousand years(remember that). You see, the timer on the freezing device was not, what was the expression, ‘Y2K compliant’.”
wait, it gets better
“My wife, my kids, my friends . . .” Joe was horrified.
“Are, I’m not happy to say, all dead,” the President finished reluctantly. “I’m sure, however, that you will be able to forge a new life on this peaceful Earth. In fact, there’s something you can do for humanity right now!”
“Really?” Joe was beginning to gain hope.
“Yes,” said the President with a grin, “we know from your records that you know COBOL, and the year 10000 is right around the corner . . .”
This couple in Kentucky had thirteen kids, and they couldn’t afford to have any more. The guy went to his doctor and says, “Doctor, I don’t want to have any more kids. Can you help me?”
“Sure”, the doctor responded, “just light a firecracker and count to six.”
The guy wasn’t sure about that adivce, so he drove to Illinois, found another doctor and asked the same question. The doctor said, “There are some pills that your wife can take.” Then he glanced at the his patient’s chart and noticed that the guy was from Kentucky, so he added, “but there is a less expensive solution. You can light a firecracker and count to six.”
So the guy bought a fire cracker, went home, lit it, and started counting: one, two, three, four, five. At this point, he ran out of fingers on his left hand, so he put the firecracker between his legs while using his right thumb to count six.
Unfortunately, one of my favorite jokes is horribly sexist.
Do you know why women wear make-up and perfume?
Because they’re ugly and they stink.
The Holy Father is on tour and comes to Los Angeles. All the Catholics in Los Angeles are very excited about his visit and so of course the local diocese sends a stretch limo to the airport to pick him up.
The chaufer greets the Pope and as the Pope is about to get in he pauses and says, “My son, I have a favor to ask of you.”
The chauffeur says, “What?”
The Pope says, “My official duties keep me very busy at the Vatican and I don’t get a chance to drive very often. I was hoping if it was all right with you if you just rode in the back and let me drive.”
The chauffeur doesn’t think this is such a good idea to let such an elderly man drive, but being Catholic he figures he’d better consent to a personal request from the Pope, so he gets in the back.
Shortly they are zooming down the highway. The Pope is weaving in and out of traffic at a fairly good clip – and sure enough before they get very far, those red and blue light come flashing up behind the limo.
The Pope pulls over, and the cop walks up, taps on the window and is about to ask for license and registration when the window goes down and he sees who it is. The office is a little taken aback and says, “Wait right here,” goes back to his car, and gets his chief on the radio.
“Chief – I have a bit of a situation here. I pulled over a VIP.”
The Chief asks: “Well, who is it?”
“To be honest, sir – I’d rather not say on an open channel.”
“Let me guess: is it the mayor?”
“No, this guy outranks the mayor.”
“Oh – so it’s the Governor?”
“No, sir – higher that the governor.”
The chief racks his brain for a minute. “It’s not the President, is it?”
“Higher than that sir.”
“Well look, I give up,” the chief says. “Just tell me who you pulled over.”
“Actually, sir, I’m not positive who he is – but the Pope’s his driver!”
… and the next day, another armless man applied for the vacancy. Like his predecessor, he charged the bell head first. Life expectancies not being so good for armless bell ringers, he too missed the bell one day and pitched himself out the window to his death. The chief priest was again distraught by the new casualty. “Father,” he asked, “Do you who this one was?” The junior priest replied, "No, I don’t know his name either …
… but he’s a dead ringer for the last guy."
Whoops, sorry Jodi. I should have read a little farther. Premature posting. How embarassing, but it happens to everyone, right?
Mr O’Donnelly: So then, Mrs Kilpatrick, who do ye think put the dish in the radishes?
Mrs Kilpatrick: Why, Mr O’Donnelly, that’d be the Good Lord.
Mr O’Donnelly: And who do ye think it was that put the turn in the turnips?
Mrs Kilpatrick: To be sure, Mr O’Donnelly, that’d be the Good Lord as well.
Mr O’Donnelly: And who put the fuck in the potatoes?
Mrs Kilpatrick: But Mr O’Donnelly, there’s no fuck in potatoes.
Mr O’Donnelly: THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YE FOR THE LAST TEN MINUTES, MRS KILPATRICK!
On the day before the battle at the Little Big Horn, General Cusater is meeting with his trusted scouts n a tent when his best scout returned.
The Scout said, “General, I have some good News and some bad news.”
Custer says, “Well, I’ve been fighting Indians for years, survived the Civil War, I’m not worried about a little bad news. What is it?”
the Scout says,“Well, every Indian this side of the Mississippi is on the other side of that hill, and we’re all going to die tomorrow.”
Custer says. “OK… what’s the GOOD news?”
The Scout says, Well, we won’t have to go back through Nebraska…"
an and a woman got into a slow elevator in a tall building. Coincidentally, they are both going to the top floor. As they start going up the man turns to the woman and says:
'Excuse me, can I smell your pussy?"
Well, the woman is shocked by this, and says, indignantly, “NO!, of course not!”
the man says:
“Oh. Must be your feet.”
Got these all from Dr Katz but they stand as the funniest I’ve yet heard.
Guy away on a business trip faxes his wife to say he’s coming home early. Comes home and finds his wife in bed with another man. He’s broken-hearted, absolutely destroyed, so he goes to a shrink and spills out the whole story. The psychiatrist listens very sympathetically, and then says, “Maybe she didn’t get the fax.”
Guy away on a business trip phones his wife. The maid answers the phone, and he says, “Can I speak to your mistress, please?” The maid says, “No - she’s in bed with her boyfriend.” The guy goes insane with rage and says, “I want you to go to the garage and get the shotgun, go upstairs, and kill them both.” The maid agrees, and the guy hears two shots. She comes back to the phone and he asks if they’re both dead, and she says yes. Then he says, “Okay, I want you to dump the bodies in the pool.” The maid says, “What pool?” The guy says, “Is this 556 77283?”
What did the zen buddhist say to the hotdog vendor?
Make me one with everything.
There was once a very wealthy biologist named Roberts, who was famed throughout the world for his amazing zoo. He had an example of nearly every rare animal in the world; midget rhinocerous, albino elephants, a tank with a giant squid, everything. Except for one: the African Black Racing Worm. This elusive creature had never been captured before, had barely even been seen. This one thing preventing his zoo from being complete nagged at Roberts for many years, until on his 40th birthday he decided he would personally lead an expedition to capture a live African Black Racing Worm.
He announced his expedition to the world, causing a huge media storm; there were interviews, TV programs about his life, documentaries on the African Black Racing Worm, the works. He assembled a world-renowned team for his expedition, and when the day finally came to depart there was a formal dinner thrown in his honour, complete with speeches, and then they all boarded a private jet that Roberts had bought specifically for this expedition, and flew to Africa. When they arrived there was more media hype, more formal dinners, and then finally they set off into the African jungle.
They travelled for days, searching for any sign of the mysterious African Black Racing Worm, and then at last they stumbled across a small bare clearing, with a tiny hole in the ground at the centre, and Roberts knew that they had at last found an African Black Racing Worm hole. They hid in the bushes and trees at the edge of the clearing and waited, watching the hole. Hours crawled by, with no sign of the African Black Racing Worm. The Sun set, and they used infra-red cameras to watch the hole still. The night crept on, and the air was so tense that no-one slept, but still no sign of the worm.
Then at last, just as day was dawning, a little black head popped out of the hole - it was the African Black Racing Worm. The worm looked slowly around the clearing and then, not seeing anything, climbed out of its hole. Roberts watched it do a few push-ups, do some stretches, put on its little tiny runners, and then whispered “now”. The expeditioners all charged into the clearing at once, and the worm instantly jumped to its feet and raced off, darting between two of its pursuers. “After it!” Roberts shouted, and they ran into the jungle after the African Black Racing Worm, dodging round trees, leaping over fallen branches, blood pounding in their ears, sweat pooring down their faces, until they eventually cornered the worm against a small cliff, forming a semi-circle to cut off its escape. The worm just stood there, panting slightly, as if it acknowledged defeat, and didn’t even move as Roberts threw a bag down over it and tied off the end. He put the bag in a small wooden box, locked it, and set off for civilisation, triumphant.
There was a huge crowed of journalists to meet him, all praising his exploits and trying to secure exclusive interviews, and several producers wanting to make a movie of his expedition, but he waved them all off. When he returned to his home city there was an even larger crowd, all crying out to see the African Black Racing Worm, but he brushed them off as well, and anounced the first public showing of the African Black Racing Worm at his zoo the next day.
Everyone was there, especially the media; there must have been a hundred TV cameras filming, and there was a constant flicker of flashes as photographs were taken as Roberts came forward with the wooden box, unlocked it, took out the bag, untied it, and took out the world’s first captured African Black Racing Worm. Except that he didn’t - the worm was gone!!
There was an uproar. Everyone thought the whole thing had been a hoax all along, and Roberts nearly died of shame. Every time he went out on the street people would boo and shout insults at him. Eventually people mostly forgot about it, but not Roberts.
5 years later he determined to succeed where he had failed the first time. He announced another expedition, which was again big news, but not nearly as much of a sensation as his first attempt had been. It only made the front page of the newspapers for a single day. He hired another team of experts, but he couldn’t get as high profile people as the first time. They departed for Africa with little fanfare, only a few radio and newspaper journalists turning up. There was a similar situation when they arrived, and they set of into the jungle the next day.
Again they trecked for days. The African Black Racing Worm hole Roberts had found the first time was no longer there, and they searched for a long time, almost giving up hope before they stumbled across another African Black Racing Worm hole much deeper in the jungle, again in a small clearing. They hid around the clearing, and waited for the worm to show itself.
This time they only had to wait until noon for a small black head to peep out of the whole. The worm climbed out of his hole, and began to go through his warm-up routine in his little runners and his little singlet and shorts, when Roberts gave the signal, and they charged into the clearing. Again the worm reacted as fast as lightning and sped away, and the chase was on. They climbed over small boulders, ducked under branches, waded through streams, and at last they cut the worm off and surrounded it. Once again the worm just looked around and didn’t try to get away, knowing it was caught. Roberts threw a bag over it, and tied it off. He felt through the bag, checking that the worm really was inside, and yes, it was still there. He put the bag inside a small wooden box and locked all three of the locks on the box, then put the box into a crate, which he nailed shut.
The expedition made their way back again, with at least 4 people watching the crate at all times. They announced their success at the first town they passed through, and by the time they got back to America there was another huge sensation. Again Roberts promised a public revelation of the African Black Racing Worm, and again everyone who was anyone was there. Roberts himself prised the crate open with a crowbar, unlocked the three locks on the wooden box, opened the lid, took out the bag, untied it, and reached into the bag to take out the African Black Racing Worm. And again the worm had vanished!!
Roberts was even more ridiculed and ashamed the second time. His house was besieged for months. But again, the uproar eventually died down. Roberts was by now absolutely determined to catch the worm that had caused him so much trouble. He vowed to acquire an African Black Racing Worm for his zoo no matter what it took.
5 years after his second expedition he set out on a third attempt to capture an African Black Racing Worm. He didn’t announce it to the world this time, just quietly arranged the personel and supplies he needed, but eventually the media got wind of it, and he gave a couple of interviews for news programs broadcast on radio at 1:00 AM. He travelled to Africa by ship this time, and was largely ignored when he arrived there, which didn’t trouble him much as he wanted to get into the jungle immediately.
They travelled for weeks, going deeper into the jungle than Roberts had ever been before. At last they found another clearing, with another African Black Racing Worm hole. They watched for 2 days before at last the African Black Racing Worm poked its head out of its hole, and Roberts charged immediately, chasing the worm off into the jungle. They ran and ran until they chased the worm into a clearing and trapped it inside a ring of bulldozers with the blades facing inwards, forming an unbreakable wall as the last one drove into place where the worm had entered. As it had the previous two times, the worm stopped and just looked around. Roberts sprayed it with a chemical to render it unconscious, then picked up the worm and placed it inside a small bag, which he tied off. He put the bag inside a small steel box with a 9-digit combination lock and locked it. He then placed the steel box inside the worm box he had specially designed to contain the African Black Racing Worm, with motion sensors set to give off an alert if an object as small as a hair moved as much as a millimetre inside the box and sealed it, then poured cement around the outside of the worm box and put it inside a large wooden crate that was nailed shut and attatched to the concrete block with inch thick metal rods. Then, the expedition set off for home.
When they arrived back at Roberts’ zoo he wouldn’t let anyone inside except his fellow expeditioners and his faithful butler as he prised open the crate, cracked the cement open with a pick, broke the seal on the worm box (which hadn’t given any alerts over the whole journey back), took out the steel box, opened the combination lock, took out the bag, untied the end, and reached inside. The worm was gone again. Roberts collapsed to his knees and began weeping uncontrollably, devestated by his latest failure.
When the public found out there was another huge scandal, and Roberts was even sued for continually not delivering on his promises. He had to sell his zoo and the large mansion he lived in, but had enough money left to buy a small house out in the country and live off the rest, waiting for the world to forget him again.
5 years after that he decided he would make one final attempt to capture an African Black Racing Worm. He arranged no team of experts, no elaborate equipment, and told no one, travelling to Africa accompanied only by his faithful butler. They set off into the African jungle, and found an African Black Racing Worm hole on their second day. As soon as they arived they saw the African Black Racing Worm poke his head out of the hole, look around, climb out, and start jogging on the spot. Roberts sneaked up behind it and threw a bag over it before it even realised he was there. He tied off the end of the bag.
When Roberts and his butler arrived back home, they sat down in the living room, and Roberts untied the bag. His hands were shaking as he opened the bag and looked inside: no worm.
Roberts sighed and held his head in his hands, utterly defeated. He decided he couldn’t bear it anymore, that he would kill himself. He went to the bathroom, intending to have a warm bath and then slit his wrists. He closed the door, got undressed and went over to the bath. He reached out and turned on the tap, and what do you think came out?
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Water.
And that my good friend Totoro, is the way you were supposed to tell the Purple Ping Pong Ball one. Or preferably longer. 
I know a whole bunch of ones like that, there’s the African Black Racing Worm, Purple Ping Pong Balls (I heard it as golf balls, but I like this one better), the Mysterious Letter, the Pink Lady, Passionfruit, “Eh, nuthin”… I think that’s it for my repetoire. The African Black Racing Worm one is the best for building up the need to know (possibly equal with the Mysterious Letter one), though the Pink Lady one has by far the ‘best’ punchline. I’ll do the others on request, if anyone else out there is mad enough to have the desire to hear this sort of joke (as I was, so if it’s any consolation I had to sit through all of these myself), though they work better orally, when you can’t skip ahead and read the ending.
P.S. I had decided not to post one of these until I read Totoro’s post, so blame him.
Disclaimer; You will probably only get this joke if you can remember the Fairy liquid commercials “for hands that do dishes” etc
And now for the joke;
A guy walks into a restaurant and orders squid. The head waiter walks into the kitchen and tells the head chef, Jervase to prepare some squid. Jervase gets the only Squid in the restaurant, a slimy green thing with a tiny moustache above its lip, and prepares to chop it up.
As he raises the knife the squid opens his eyes, curls his tiny moustache and cries “please don’t kill me!”
Horrified Jervase runs to the head waiter and refuses to kill the squid. The head chef fetches Hans, the guy who washes dishes and orders hime to do the deed instead.
As Hans prepares to slice and dice, the squid once more opens his eyes, curls his tiny moustache and cries “please, don’t kill me!”
In tears Hans runs to the waiter and he too refuses to kill the squid. In exasperation the waiter goes to the customer and says " I’m sorry sir but we cannot serve the squid."
“Why ever not?” asks the customer.
“Because,” replies the waiter, " Hans that does dishes is as soft as Jervase, for slime green, hairy lip squid."
A baby seal walks into a club…
This penguin was driving through the desert, air conditioner blasting, when his car let out a big blech of ugly smoke and died. He calls AAA and got a tow back to the last town he’d passed through. They tow the car to the only service station in town, where the busy mechanic tells him he’d be happy to take a look at it, but regrettably it’d be a few hours before he could even get around to popping the hood.
“No problem,” said the penguin. “But I must say I’m a little uncomfortable in this heat. You wouldn’t happen to have an ice machine, would you?”
The mechanic says no, but mentioned that there is a small grocery store down the street, and it had a freezer section. The penguin thanks him, says he’ll be back later, and waddles off to the store. Sure enough, it’s got a roomy freezer section and the penguin climbs in, reveling in the cool. After napping for an hour or so, he awakens hungry. He sees that he’s sitting on a huge pile of vanilla ice cream cartons. He merrily opens one and digs in. Of course, his flippers being what they are, he gets ice cream all over himself and is quite a sight when he finally notices the time and decides to go back to his car.
He waddles down the street to find the mechanic fiddling underneath the hood. He clears his throat and the mechanic looks up, shaking his head.
“Looks like you blew a seal.”
The penguin looks down at himself as says “Oh, no, this is just ice cream!”
A woman walks into a bank dragging a large sack of money. She tells the lady at the counter that she’d like to see the bank president to make a $75,000 deposit. The teller says she could do it, but the lady is insistent. “With this much money I want to see the man in charge.”
A few minutes later the president arrives and escorts the lady into his office.100
“What can I do for you?” the banker says.
“Well, I’d like to deposit this money, it’s all cash” the lady says.
The banker counts the money, sure enough there’s $75,000, but he’s curious. “Where did you get all this cash”, he asks. “Oh, I like to make wagers”, says the lady. “That’s preposterous”, says the banker, “you mean to tell me you made all this money making bets”. “Sure” she says, “would you like to try me, I never lose”.
The banker is nervous but agrees.
Ok says the woman “I’ll bet you ten thousand dollars that you have square nuts”.
The banker is delighted. “It’s a bet,” he says. Alright says the woman “we’ll meet here tomorrow at 1 o’clock, oh and I’ll bring my lawyer to make sure everything’s on the up and up. Of course I’ll have to examine them to make sure. “Ok” says the banker “I’ll see you at one”
At precisely one the next day, the woman is again escorted to the bank presidents office this time with her lawyer in tow. “Ok says the woman let’s see them”. The banker drops his pants. “Well what do you know” say the woman “they don’t look square, you mind if I grab them just to check, $10,000 is a lot if money”. “Ok” the banker, agrees, after all he’s just earned 10 grand, and the lady grabs the banker buy the balls.
The banker’s about to ask for the money, when he sees the lawyer banging his head against the wall. “What’s his problem”, he asks. “Oh he’s just a sore loser,” says the woman, “I bet him $50,000 this morning that I’d have this bank’s president by the balls this afternoon”.
A girl asks her boyfriend to come over Friday night and have dinner with her parents. This being a big event, the girl tells her boyfriend that after dinner, she would like to go out and “do it” for the first time. Well, the boy is ecstatic, but he has never done it before, so he takes a trip to the pharmacist to get some protection. The pharmacist helps the boy for about an hour. He tells the boy everything there is to know about protection and doing it. At the register, the pharmacist asks the boy how many he’d like to buy; a 3-pack, a 10-pack, or a family pack. The boy insists on the family pack because he thinks he will be very busy, it being his first time and all.
That night, the boy shows up at the girl’s parent’s house and meets his girlfriend at the door. “Oh I’m so excited for you to meet my parents, come on in.” The boy goes inside and is taken to the dinner table where the girl’s parents are seated. The boy quickly offers to say grace and bows his head. A minute passes, and the boy still deep in prayer with his head down.
Ten minutes pass and still no movement from the boy. Finally, after 20 minutes with his head down, the girlfriend leans over and whispers to her boyfriend, “I had no idea you were so religious.” The boy turns and whispers back…
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“I had no idea your father was a pharmacist.”
A father and son were in a public restroom one day when the father decided that it was time for his son to learn how to use a urinal. The son wanted to be a “grown up,” and so he approached a urinal and began to listen to his father’s instructions. “There are four important steps to using a urinal,” the father told his son. “If you follow my instructions exactly you’ll never have to worry about accidentally peeing on your pants. Remember, though, that if you’re going to use the bathroom like a grown up, you have to practice. That means no more going in the stalls at school.”
The son nodded and the father began telling him what to do.
“First, take out your penis and pull back the foreskin. This will help you stay clean down there.”
“Second, make sure you aim properly, and then go.”
“Third, when you’re finished, shake yourself to make sure that you don’t mess your underwear with any leftover drips.”
“Fourth, pull your foreskin back up, and then zip up your pants. Then you’re done!”
The following day the father gets a phone call from his son’s school. His son’s teacher sounded worried, which immediately worried him. “What’s the matter,” the father asked.
“Well, sir, we seem to have lost your son.”
“How can you have lost my son! Don’t you know where he went?”
“Well, we do, but it seems that we’ve lost him in the bathroom.”
The father was relieved, but also a bit upset. “Come on, if he’s in the bathroom, just march in there and tell him to get back to class.”
“Well, sir,” the teacher said, “we’ve tried that. He won’t come out.”
“Has he told you why?”
“No. Actually, the bathroom door was locked, and when we told him to unlock it and come out, he just kept repeating ‘first, fourth” over and over again.”
(And if that was bad, I have a few more…)
(You can throw stuff at me now.)