Jokes Book Collection Part Ix Part 151

A woman posts an ad in the newspaper that looks like this... 'Looking for man with these qualifications; won't beat me up; or run away from me and is great in bed.'

She got lots of phone calls replying to her ad but met someone perfect at her door one day.

The man she met said, "Hi, I'm Bob. I have no arms so I won't beat you up and no legs so I won't run away."

So the lady says, "What makes you think you are great in bed?"

Bob replies, "I rang the door bell didn't I?"

Nudist Colony.

A man joins a nudist colony, takes off his clothes and starts wandering around. A 6 foot blond walks by him; the man gets a hard-on.

Blond: "Sir, did you call for me?"

New Man: "No, I just got here."

Blond: "You must be new here, it's a rule when I give you a hard-on, it implies you called for me."

The blond lays down and lets the man screw her. The man gets up happy, enters the sauna, sits down, and farts. A huge man comes toward him.

Huge Man: "Sir, did you call for me?"

New Man: "No, I just got here."

Huge Man: You must be new here, it is a rule when you fart, it implies you called for me."

The huge man turns him around and sodomizes him. The new man rushes back to the receptionist...

New Man: "Here is your card and key back. You can keep the $500."

Receptionist: "But Sir, you only saw 1% of our facilities...."

New Man: (Rudely interrupting) "Listen lady, I am 45 years old, I get a hard-on once a month, but I fart 15 times a day. No thanks."

Old Town.

I pulled into a town I couldn't believe still existed in the eighties. A dusty, dirt road, a little old wooden store that actually said "General Store", and that was it.

There was a little old man sitting in front of the store in a rocking chair. I said to him, "What do you folks do around here?"

He said, "We don't do nothin' but hunt n' f.u.c.k."

I said, "What do you hunt?"

He said, "Somethin' to f.u.c.k."

One More and I'll Have...

A Jew, a Catholic and a Mormon were having drinks at the bar following an interfaith meeting.

The Jew, bragging on his virility, said, "I Have four sons. One more and I'll have a basketball team."

The Catholic, pooh-poohed this accomplishment, stating, "That's nothing, boy. I have 10 sons, one more and I'll have a football team."

To which the Mormon replied, "You fellas haven't got a clue. I have 17 wives. One more and I'll have a golf course."

Perfect Girl.

A friend asked a gentleman how it is that he never married ?

Replied the gentleman, "Well, I guess I just never met the right woman ... I guess I've been looking for the perfect girl."

"Oh, come on now," said the friend, "Surely you have met at least one girl that you wanted to marry."

"Yes, there was one girl .. once. I guess she was the one perfect girl....the only perfect girl I really ever met. She was just the right everything...I really mean that she was the perfect girl for me."

"Well, why didn't you marry her," asked the friend.

"She was looking for the perfect man," he said.

Pianist in a Restaurant.

This bloke walks into the poshest restaurant in town...

"Where's the G.o.d dam, mother f.u.c.king Manager you c.o.c.k sucking, dingo-t.i.tted, a.r.s.e wipe?" he politely inquires to one of the waiters.

The waiter is naturally taken aback and replies, "Excuse me sir but could you please refrain from using that sort of language in here, I will get the manager as soon as I can".

"I want to see the c.u.n.t, and I want to see the c.u.n.t now!", replies the man, staring wildly at the waiter.

The manager comes over and the bloke asks, "Are you the f.u.c.king tossy manager of this t.w.a.t-hole joint?".

"Yes sir, I am", replies the manager, "but I would prefer it if you could refrain from speaking such profanities in this, a private and exclusive restaurant".

"f.u.c.k off, quim-face ", replies the bloke "and where's the f.u.c.king piano?"

"Pardon?" says the manager.

"f.u.c.king deaf as well, are you? You little piece of snivelling s.h.i.+t, show us your p.i.s.sing piano or I'll f.u.c.king t.w.a.t you."

"Ahhhh !" replies the manager, "you've come about the pianist job" and shows the bloke to the piano. "Can you play any blues?".

"Of course I can," and the bloke proceeds to play the most melancholy blues that the manager has ever heard.

"That's superb. What's it called?"

"I want to f.u.c.k your wife on the sofa but the springs keep sticking in me k.n.o.b," replies the bloke.

The manager is a bit disturbed and asks if the bloke knows any jazz. The bloke proceeds, playing the most rhythmically complex jazz solo the manager has ever heard.

"Magnificent !" cries the manager "What's it called?"

"I tried to w.a.n.k over the was.h.i.+n' machine but me b.a.l.l.s got caught in the soap drawer".

The manager is a tad embarra.s.sed and asks if he knows any romantic ballads, The bloke then plays the most heartbreaking melody that brings a tear to his eye and a lump into his throat.

"That's beautiful, what's that called ?" asks the manager.

"As I f.u.c.k you under the stars with the moonlight s.h.i.+ning off your hairy ring-piece," replies the bloke.

The manager is highly upset by the bloke's language but his music is so good he offers him the job on condition that he doesn't introduce any of his songs or talk to any of the customers.

This arrangement works well for a couple of months until one night the bloke is playing his piano and sitting opposite him is the most gorgeous blonde he has ever laid his eyes on. She's wearing an almost see-through dress, her t.i.ts are falling out the top of her tight lace bra, and the skimpy little 'G' string she's wearing is showing clearly through the tight material over her gorgeous a.r.s.e. She is sitting there with her legs slightly open sucking suggestively on asparagus shoots and the b.u.t.ter is dripping down her chin!

It's too much for the pianist and he stops playing and runs off to the bogs to 'wrestle with his bald headed champ'.

He's pulling away furiously when he hears the managers voice: "Where's that b.l.o.o.d.y pianist gone?".

He just has time to shoot his bolt and in a fl.u.s.ter he runs back to the piano, sits down and starts playing some more tunes.

The blonde gets up off her bar-stool and walks seductively over to the piano, leans over in front of him and whispers in his ear, "Do you know your k.n.o.b and b.o.l.l.o.c.ks are hanging out your trousers and dripping c.u.m onto your shoes?".

And the bloke replies.... "Know it? I f.u.c.king wrote it".

Piano Down the Mine Shaft.