Three roommates: a blonde, brunette, and redhead all go out on dates one night. When they get back in the blonde says, "You know you've been on a good date when your make-up is all smeared!" The brunette says, "No, no, you know you've been on a good date when you come home and your hair is all messed up." The redhead doesn't say anything she just reaches up under her skirt, pulls off her panties, and throws them against the wall, where they stick, and says, "NOW THAT'S A GOOD DATE!!"

*******before you read this I want you all to know this is a real letter written to an airline company by a passanger who rode in the plane*********** Dear Continental Airlines, I am disgusted as I write this note to you about the miserable experience I am having sitting in seat 29E on one of your aircrafts. As you may know, this seat is situated directly across from the lavatory, so close that I can reach out my left am and touch the door. All my senses are being tortured simultaneously. It's difficult to say what the worst part about sitting in 29E really is. Is it the stench of the sanitation fluid that's blown all over my body every 60 seconds when the door opens? Is it the wooosh of the constant flushing? Or is it the passengers asses that seem to fit into my personal space like a pornographic jig-saw puzzle? I constructed a stink-shield by shoving one end of a blanket into the overhead compartment — while effective in blocking at least some of the smell, and offering a small bit of privacy, the ass-on-my-body factor has increased, as without my evil glare, passengers feel free to lean up against what they think is some kind of blanketed wall. The next ass that touches my shoulder will be the last! I am picturing a board room full of executives giving props to the young promising engineer that figured out how to squeeze an additional row of seats onto this plane by putting them next to the LAV. I would like to flush his head in the toilet that I am close enough to touch, and taste, from my seat. Putting a seat here was a very bad idea. I just heard a man groan in there! This sucks! Worse yet, is I've paid over $400.00 for the honor of sitting in this seat! Does your company give refunds? I'd like to go back where I came from and start over. Seat 29E could only be worse if it was located inside the bathroom. I wonder if my clothing will retain the sanitizing odor . . . what about my hair! I feel like I'm bathing in a toilet bowl of blue liquid, and there is no man in a little boat to save me. I am filled with a deep hatred for your plane designer and a general dis-ease that may last for hours. We are finally decending, and soon I will be able to tear down the stink-shield, but the scars will remain. I suggest that you initiate immediate removal of this seat from all of your crafts. Just remove it, and leave the smouldering brown hole empty, a good place for sturdy/non-absorbing luggage maybe, but not human cargo.

A guy in sitting in a bar hving a drink. All of a sudden an alien sits down next to him, licks its finger and sticks it in the guys ear. The guy's a little annoyed, but doesn't say anything. The next thing he knows, the alien does it again. this time the guy tells him to quit. Five minutes later, it happens again. This time he yells at him to stop. Ten minutes later, he finds a finger in his ear. Finally, he jumps up and screams, "If you don't quit I'm gonna rip your balls off!". the alien thinks about it for a second, and does it again. The guy jumps up, pulls its pants down, but there was nothing there! In frustration he asks, "How do you screw?!" the alien smiles and sticks his finger in the guys ear.

I once knew a boy who was dating his left hand and having an affair with his right.

This guy lives in Westchester, NY and goes to school at Ithaca College. For two years, he has wanted to ask a certain girl (who is also from Westchester and also goes to Ithaca) out on a date, but has never had the courage. Finally, one day over the summer, he sees her at home and musters up the courage to ask her out. She accepts, and they make dinner plans for Saturday night. Friday night, this guy goes out with all of his buddies, and drinks like Prohibition is coming back. Saturday, he is in such bad shape that he can't make it through twenty minutes without either puking or shitting. After several hours of this, he is able to stop puking, but he is still running to the toilet every 20 minutes to shit. He doesn't want to cancel the date, because he's afraid he won't ever talk to her again. So they meet in Westchester, and take the train to New York City (about a 30 minute ride). They get to the restaurant, and he excuses himself during the appetizers to use the bathroom. They enjoy the rest of the appetizers without interruption, but he has to go back again during the entrees. They decide to get dessert. During dessert, our hero feels another rumbling, but doesn't want to look like a complete bathroom freak, so he holds it. After a few minutes, the rumbling subsides, but he still has a bit of gas stored up. He decides to let this little bit of gas fly right there at the table (discreetly, of course). Unfortunately, this little bit of gas came with another little surprise. 'Oh shit,' he thinks (and feels). Instead of running to the bathroom right away, our hero immediately leans on the arms of his chair to keep from sitting on this surprise. He maintains this yoga position for the rest of dessert, trying to figure out what to do before his tan pants (a) start to smell, or (b) start to show stains on the outside. He quickly pays for dinner and they leave the restaurant. Oh, by the way, he is walking like a cowboy. On the way to the train station, they pass the Gap. 'Do you mind if I run in and buy a sweater that I was looking at last week?' he asks. 'No problem, I'd like to look around too,' she replies. They go into the Gap. Fortunately, at the Gap, men's fashions are on the right, women's fashions are on the left. They split up. Our hero grabs the first sweater within reach, and hurries back to the khakis. After selecting a pair that most closely resemble his current outfit, he brings both items to the register. His eyes are on his date (still on the other side of the store) to make sure that she doesn't see him buying the pants. He doesn't even want the sweater, so he says through clenched teeth (just in case his date can read lips from 40 feet away) 'Just the pants.' 'What?' asks the Gap girl. 'Just the pants!' (Eyes still trained on his date.) Gap girl: 'Oh, OK.' He pays for the pants and walks over to his date, then they leave the store. They board the train just before it leaves the station and find two seats in the middle of the car. Without sitting down, our hero excuses himself and walks to the bathroom in the back of the car. He gets to the bathroom as the train departs, and quickly rips off his pants and boxer shorts. He rolls them into a ball and throws them out the window. After cleaning himself off, he opens the Gap bag and pulls out...just the sweater.

The next time you are having a bad day, imagine this: You are a Siamese Twin. Your brother, attached at your shoulder is gay. You are not. He has a date coming over tonight. You only have one ass.

I slide to first. I feel like I'm going to burst. Diarrhea, diarrhea. I slide to two. My pants are filled with goo. Diarrhea, diarrhea. I slide to third. I dropped a runny turd. Diarrhea, diarrhea. I slide to home. My pants are filled with foam. Diarrhea, diarrhea. First its in the pants, then its on the floor. I make a 20 yard dash to the bathroom door. Some people think its funny. Its coming out back runny. Well, diarrhea.

Try this on a friend: Every time you say something, tell the other to say the same thing and add "bait" at the end. Example: fish --> fish bait fish (fish bait) dolphin (dolphin bait) seal (seal bait) I master (I masturbate!)

A large woman, wearing a sleeveless sun dress, walked into a bar in London. She raised her right arm, revealing a huge, hairy armpit as she pointed to all the people sitting at the bar and asked, "What man here will buy a lady a drink?" The bar went silent as the patrons tried to ignore her. But down at the end of the bar, an owly-eyed drunk slammed his hand down on the counter and bellowed, "Give the Ballerina a drink!" The bartender poured the drink and the woman chugged it down in one. She turned to the patrons and again pointed around at all of them, revealing the same hairy armpit, and asked, "What man here will buy a lady a drink?" Once again, the same little drunk slapped his money down on the bar and boomed, "Give the Ballerina another drink!" The bartender approached the little drunk and said, "I say, old chap, it's your business if you want to buy the lady a drink, but why do you keep calling her the Ballerina?'" "As far as I'm concerned," the drunk replied, "Any woman who can lift her leg that high has got to be a Ballerina!"

A woman pregnant with triplets was walking down the street when a masked robber runs out and shoots her three times in the stomach. Luckily the babies are okay and the surgeon decides to leave the bullets where they are as it is too risky to operate. All is fine for 16 years and then one daughter walks into the room in tears. "What's wrong," asks the mother. "Well, mum, I was having a wee and this bullet came out," replies the daughter. The mother tells her it is okay and explains what happened 16 years before. About a week later the second daughter walks into the room in tears. "Mum, I was having a wee and this bullet came out." The mother tells her what happened 16 years before and tells her not to worry. Another week passes by and the son walks into the room in tears. "It's okay," says the mother, "I know what has happened, you were having a wee and a bullet came out." "No," says the boy, "I was having a w*nk and I've shot the dog...."