Three sisters ages 92, 94 and 96 live in a house together.

One night the 96-year-old draws a bath. She puts her foot in and pauses. She yells to the other sisters, "Was I getting in or out of the bath?"

The 94-year-old yells back, "I don't know. I'll come up and see." She starts up the stairs and pauses. "Was I going up the stairs or down?"

The 92-year-old is sitting at the kitchen table having tea, listening to her sisters. She shakes her head and says, "I sure hope I never get that forgetful," as she knocked on her wooden table for good measure.

She then yells, "I'll come up and help both of you as soon as I see who's at the door."



today'sTHOT=============================

Wherever I go, the world's worst drivers follow me there.

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A POEM FOR COMPUTER USERS OVER 30

A computer was something on TV,
from a science fiction show of note.
A window was something you hated to clean,
and ram was the cousin of a goat.

Meg was the name of my girlfriend,
and a gig was job for the night.
Now they all mean different things,
and that really mega bytes.

An application was for employment.
A program was a TV show.
A cursor used profanity.
A keyboard was a piano.

Memory was something that you lost with age.
A CD was a bank account.
Compress was something you did to the garbage,
not something you did to a file,
and if you unzipped anything in public
you'd be in jail for a while.

Log on was adding wood to the fire.
Hard drive was a long trip on the road.
A mouse pad was where a mouse lived,
and backup happened to your commode.

Cut you did with a pocket knife.
Paste you did with glue.
A web was a spider's home,
and a virus was the flu.

I guess I'll stick to my pad and paper,
and the memory in my head.
I hear nobody's been killed in a computer crash,
but when it happens, they will wish they were dead.



today'sTHOT=============================

The older we get, the fewer things seem worth waiting in line for.

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I just viewed this article about a man from Ireland who recently died. While it was very sad to lose one's loving parent, this father made sure his family and friends remembered with a touch of humor,

NOTE: Language is a bit crass but look past that hope you find something thoughtful here.

Shaly Bradley's farewell.

This lion is prancing through the jungle bein' all proud of his mastery of the animal kingdom. One day he decides to make sure all the other animals knows he's king of the jungle. He was so confident that he bypassed the smaller animals and went straight to the bear.

Grabs the bear by the neck and screams "Hey Bear! Who's the king of the jungle??!"

"Why, of course, you are," the bear replied. The lion gave a mighty roar of approval.

Next he asked the tiger, grabbing it by its jaw... "Hey Tiger! Who's king of the jungle??!"

The tiger quickly responded, "Everyone knows that YOU are, oh mighty lion."

Yeah that's right!

Next on the list was the elephant. Grabs it by its trunk and screams "Hey elephant! Who's king of the jungle??!"

The elephant immediately grabs the lion with his trunk, whirls him around in the air five or six times and slams him into a tree. Then he pounds him onto the ground several times, dunks him under water in a nearby lake and finally dumps him out on the shore.

The lion — beaten, bruised and battered — struggles to his feet.

"Look elephant, just because you don't know the answer is no reason to get upset."

Snail with an attitude

A guy is sitting at home when he hears a knock at the door. He opens the door and sees a snail on the porch. He picks up the snail and throws it as far as he can. Three years later there’s a knock on the door. He opens it and sees the same snail. The snail says: ‘What the hell was that all about?’

Wax is not your friend!

All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The epilady, scissors, razors, Nair… and now… the wax.

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: “Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet.” So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom.

It was one of those “cold wax” kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I’m not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)

So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. (”Cold wax,” yeah… right!)

I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn’t the best feeling, but it wasn’t too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.

With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the one strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my *hoo-hoo* and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself… RRRRIIIPPP!!!!

I’m blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!! OH MY GOD!!! Vision returning, I notice that I’ve only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out… must stay conscious… Do I hear crashing drums???

Breathe, breathe… OK, back to normal.

I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip! There’s no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???

Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I am touching wax.

CRAP! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake… remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.

DANG!!!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door.

*Hoo-Hoo*?? sealed shut! Butt?? Sealed shut! I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself “Please don’t let me get the urge to poop My head may pop off!” What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!!!

I’ll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? WRONG!!!!!!!

I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit. Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub… in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn’t melt cold wax.

So, now I’m stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!!

God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!! I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It’s a very good conversation starter - “So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!” There is a slight pause. She doesn’t know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, “Are we talking cheeks or who-ha?”

She’s laughing out loud by now… I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else’s night.

While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!

By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I’m pretty sure I’m going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.

My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace… the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!! The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It’s sooo painful, but I really don’t care. IT WORKS!! It works!!

I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.

I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair… THE HAIR IS STILL THERE… ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!

So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I’m numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

Next week I’m going to try hair color…

After suffering from the dreaded man flu / throat AIDS for the last Eleventeen days I thought I'd spoil myself and my sinus' and try one of these Vicks Vaporub shower bombs / melts that I'd seen on Pinterest and Facebook.

Ya mix up some Vicks with corn flour and bi carb , throw the mix in a ice cube tray and when ya ready pop one out , throw it on the floor of the shower and enjoy the steamy aromatic goodness.
Well that's the plan anyway.

Mixing that sh*t up is a nightmare ! It's like stirring a tub of axle grease with an egg whisk !
It gets everywhere, and i ended up with it in my mouth and my eye !! Lucky I didn't need a wee .......
So after 30 mins of mixing sh*t I get it in the ice cube tray ..... Which was more than a mission in itself. I pop it in the freezer and after 8 hours it didn't set....
I decide to have a crack at using it anyway.

So I spoon it out and splat a few blobs in the corner of the shower cubicle, fire up the shower and the steam starts.
The white globules start to "melt" as the heat intensifies and as soon as steam is visible my nose is being cleared by eucalyptus, then my sinus, then my throat and eyes .... Holy crap that's strong!!!!!!

So I thought it was a good idea to wrap it up before I succumb to the fumes and "bleed out" from my nose.
I give what's left of the gooey mess in the corner a swipe with my foot into the drain , except it just stuck to my foot and smeared across the floor! Doing so aggravated the greasy sh*t and the stench emanating intensified, more , and more.

Ok so I'm getting desperate to get out of the shower , hell probably the bathroom altogether.
I lift my foot up in the cramped cubicle to wipe this napalmesque death cream off my foot and with that my other foot slides In the remnants like I was on ice !
My fat hairy arse hits the door and I slide down in slow motion, concerned somewhat that I'm going to end up being "that guy" at the emergency room trying to convince the nurses that i actually slipped in the shower and I did not insert a head n shoulders bottle in my clacker by choice..... I steer myself clear of anything rectum piercing.... I hit the shower floor covering myself with the frigging slime!!!!

Its time to shut this sh*t down... I'm out.
I struggle to get up and then I work out the door won't open ! It's come off the rails.

I'm screwed , it's over , this is how I die.

Well I didn't die but the shower floor was slicker than deer guts on a door knob, not to mention I sweated that sh*t from my pores for 12 hours.

If you're tempted to try these things , don't. Just don't.

I appreciate all the contributions to the joke thread!

I'm the OP

I know. And I appreciate your posts. I have bad days sometimes and your jokes make my day better.

Aww thank you. That makes me smile

Bwahahahahahahaha

So there was this man in Bulgaria who drove trains for a living.

He loved his job. Driving a train had been his dream ever since he was a child. He loved to make the train go as fast as possible. Unfortunately, one day he was a little too reckless and caused a crash. He made it out, but a single person died. Well, needless to say, he went to court over this incident. He was found guilty, and was sentenced to death by electrocution. When the day of the execution came, he requested a single banana as his last meal. After eating the banana, he was strapped into the electric chair. The switch was flown, sparks flew, and smoke filled the air - but nothing happened. The man was perfectly fine.


Well, at the time, there was an old Bulgarian law that said a failed execution was a sign of divine intervention, so the man was allowed to go free. Somehow, he managed to get his old job back driving the train. Having not learned his lesson at all, he went right back to driving the train with reckless abandon. Once again, he caused a train to crash, this time killing two people. The trial went much the same as the first, resulting in a sentence of execution. For his final meal, the man requested two bananas. After eating the bananas, he was strapped into the electric chair. The switch was thrown, sparks flew, smoke filled the room - and the man was once again unharmed.


Well, this of course meant that he was free to go. And once again, he somehow managed to get his old job back. To what should have been the surprise of no one, he crashed yet another train and killed three people. And so he once again found himself being sentenced to death. On the day of his execution, he requested his final meal: three bananas.


"You know what? No," said the executioner. "I've had it with you and your stupid bananas and walking out of here unharmed. I'm not giving you a thing to eat; we're strapping you in and doing this now." Well, it was against protocol, but the man was strapped in to the electric chair without a last meal. The switch was pulled, sparks flew, smoke filled the room - and the man was still unharmed. The executioner was speechless.


The man looked at the executioner and said, "Oh, the bananas had nothing to do with it. I'm just a bad conductor."

The world's leading expert on European wasps walks into a record shop.

He asks the assistant “Do you have ‘European Vespidae Acoustics Volume 2? I believe it was released this week.”


“Certainly,” replies the assistant. “Would you like to listen before you buy it?”


"That would be wonderful," says the expert, and puts on a pair of headphones.


He listens for a few moments and says to the assistant, “I'm terribly sorry, but I am the world's leading expert on European wasps and this is not accurate at all. I don't recognize any of those sounds. Are you sure this is the correct recording?”


The assistant checks the turntable, and replies that it is indeed European Vespidae Acoustics Volume 2. The assistant apologizes and lifts the needle onto the next track.


Again the expert listens for a few moments and then says to the assistant, "No, this just can't be right! I've been an expert in this field for 43 years and I still don't recognize any of these sounds."


The assistant apologizes again and lifts the needle to the next track.


The expert throws off the headphones as soon as it starts playing and is fuming with rage.

"This is outrageous false advertising! I am the world's leading expert on European wasps and no European wasp has ever made a sound like the ones on this record!"

The manager of the shop overhears the commotion and walks over.


"What seems to be the problem, sir?"


"This is an outrage! I am the world's leading expert on European wasps. Nobody knows more about them than I do. There is no way in hell that the sounds on that record were made by European wasps!"


The manager glances down and notices the problem instantly.


"I'm terribly sorry, sir. It appears we've been playing you the bee side."

Lil...

A conductor on the Bee side...

LOL

SFB

A pastor was giving the children's message during church. For this part of the service, he would gather all the children around him and give a brief lesson before dismissing them for children's church.

On this particular Sunday, he was using squirrels for an object lesson on industry and preparation. He started out by saying, "I'm going to describe something, and I want you to raise your hand when you know what it is." The children nodded eagerly.

"This thing lives in trees (pause) and eats nuts (pause)..." No hands went up. "And it is grey (pause) and has a long bushy tail (pause)..." The children were looking at each other, but still no hands raised. "And it jumps from branch to branch (pause) and chatters and flips its tail when it's excited (pause)..."

Finally one little boy tentatively raised his hand. The pastor breathed a sigh of relief and called on him. "Well...," said the boy, "I *know* the answer is Jesus...but is sure sounds like a squirrel to me."

today'sTHOT=============================

You haven't had enough coffee until you can thread a sewing machine while it's running.

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The owner of a manufacturing firm decided to make a surprise tour of the factory. Walking through the warehouse he noticed a young man lazily leaning against a packing crate.

The factory owner angrily said, "Just how much are you being paid?"

The young man replied, "A hundred dollars a week."

The owner pulled out his wallet, peeled off five $20 bills and shouted at the young man:

"Here is a week's pay--now get out and don't come back!"

Without a word, the young man stuffed the money into his pocket and left.

The warehouse manager, standing nearby, stared in amazement.

"Tell me," the boss asked him, "How long has that guy worked for us?"

"He didn't work here," replied the warehouse manager,

"He was just the Fed-Ex guy delivering a package."

Another case of management getting it wrong…

A Sunday School teacher decided to have her young class memorize one of the most quoted passages in the Bible - Psalm 23. She gave the youngsters a month to learn the chapter. Little Rick was excited about the task - but he just couldn't remember the Psalm. After much practice, he could barely get past the first line.

On the day that the kids were scheduled to recite Psalm 23 in front of the congregation, Ricky was so nervous. When it was his turn, he stepped up to the microphone and said proudly, "The Lord is my Shepherd, and that's all I need to know."



today'sTHOT=============================

I'm writing a book about reverse psychology. Don't buy it.

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A man was playing Trivial Pursuit one night.

It was his turn.

He rolled the dice and he landed on Science & Nature.

His question was, "If you are in a vacuum and someone calls your name, can you hear it?"

He thought for a time and then asked, "Is the vacuum on or off?"

A surgeon was checking on a patient who had a hernia operation three days before.

The doctor asked the man why he had not gotten out of bed.

"I hurt," the man said. "You don't know how it feels."

"I know exactly how it feels," the doctor said. "I had the same procedure last month, and I was back at work two days later. There's no difference in our operations."

"Oh yes there is," said the patient. "You had a different surgeon."

Touché!

What do Alexander the Great and Winnie the Pooh have in common? Same middle name.

I was horrified when my wife told me that my six-year-old son wasn't actually mine. Apparently I need to pay more attention during school pick-up.

What is the opposite of a croissant? A happy uncle.

If April showers bring May flowers, what do May flowers bring? Pilgrims.

Which branch of the military accepts toddlers? The infantry.

Did you know you can actually listen to the blood in your veins? You just have to listen varicosely.

Though I enjoy the sport, I could never date a tennis player. Love means nothing to them.

I have a joke about time travel, but I'm not gonna share it. You guys didn't like it.

What's the opposite of irony? Wrinkly.

I was kidnapped by mimes once. They did unspeakable things to me.

Got a PS5 for my little brother. Best trade I've ever done!

What do the movies Titanic and The Sixth Sense have in common? Icy dead people.

I finally decided to sell my vacuum cleaner. All it was doing was gathering dust!

When you die, what part of the body dies last? The pupils…they dilate.

A friend of mine went bald years ago, but still carries around an old comb. He just can't part with it.

You know there's no official training for trash collectors? They just pick things up as they go along.

I'm thinking of a career where I estimate crowd sizes at different outdoor events. I wonder how many people are in that field.

What do you call a woman who sets fire to all her bills? Bernadette.

Did you hear how the zombie bodybuilder hurt his back? He was dead-lifting.

I saw Usain Bolt sprinting around the track shouting, "Why did the chicken cross the road!?" It was a running joke.

Where does the General keep his armies? In his sleevies.

How does a squid go into battle? Well-armed.

What's the best thing about Switzerland? I don't know, but their flag is a huge plus.

Where do you find a cow with no legs? Right where you left it.

A bear walks into a restaurant. He tells his waiter, "I want a grilled…cheese." The waiter says, "What's with the pause?" "Whaddya mean?" the bear replies. "I'm a bear!"

What's E.T. short for? Because he's got little legs.

What do you call a Frenchman wearing sandals? Phillipe Phillope.

Never criticize someone until you have walked a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you'll be a mile away, and you'll have their shoes.

Two men meet on opposite sides of a river. One shouts to the other, "I need you to help me get to the other side!" The other guy replies, "You're on the other side!"

What's the difference between a hippo and a Zippo? One is really heavy, and the other is a little lighter.

Thanks for these 'Lil