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Friday Funnies

Phil Box
11:30:09 AM
On 25/05/2009 IdratherbeclimbingM9 wrote:
>On 23/05/2009 dmnz wrote:
>>if you're a chicken
>Humour?? ... from 2005!

>Chicken is what they make soup out of.

You'll also find that they cross a lot of roads, do a search for why.

1:31:05 PM
Roadkill soup anyone?

Dear me good Chockstone peoples, this swine flu thingy seems to be getting some traction in our fair land. The authorities are even talking about the possibility of having to close down large gatherings of people. Perhaps we should all go out into the wilderness to escape it all, or perhaps not?

A bear, a lion and a pig meet.

Bear says: "If I roar in the forest, the entire forest is shivering with fear."

Lion says: "If I roar in the jungle, the entire jungle is afraid of me."

Pig says: "Big deal.... I only have to cough, and the entire planet shits itself."

Enough with feeling depressed about things for the day.
We never know when we will get sick, or for that matter even when we will have our next dance, so here is a story for the young at heart to help you grow old in wisdom.

An Old Prospector:

An old prospector walks his tired old mule into a western
town one day. He'd been out in the desert for about six
months without a drop of whiskey.

He walked up to the first saloon he came to and tied his
old mule to the hitch rail. As he stood there brushing
some of the dust from his face and clothes, a young
gunslinger walked out of the saloon with a gun in one
hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.

The young gunslinger looked at the old man and
laughed, saying, 'Hey old man, have you ever danced?'

The old man looked up at the gunslinger and said, 'No,I
never did dance. I just never wanted to.'

A crowd had gathered by then and the gunslinger
said, 'Well, you old fool, you're gonna' dance now,' and
started shooting at the old man's feet. The old
prospector was hopping around and everybody was laughing.

When the gunslinger fired his last bullet, he holstered
his gun and turned around to go back into the saloon.The
old man reached up on the mule, drew his shotgun, and
pulled both hammers back making a double clicking sound.
The gunslinger heard the sound and everything got quiet.
The crowd watched as the gunslinger slowly turned around
looking down both barrels of the shotgun.
The old man asked, 'Did you ever kiss a mule's ass?'

The gunslinger swallowed hard and said, 'No. But I've
always wanted to.'

The two lessons from this story are:
1. Don't waste ammunition.
2. Don't mess with old people.

I just love a story with a happy ending. Don't you?

Which reminds me. Derek? Derek my M10 love? Have you packed the climbing shoes yet for this weekend? The sandwitches are done, and the thermos is packed!
Must go dearies. It has been too long since I danced on rock.

3:13:30 PM
A lot of people said pigs would fly before America elected a black president.

Well swine flu!!

2:24:01 PM
In penance for repeating Eduardo's earlier joke, here's another one:

Q. Why did the chicken cross the road?
A. He was giving it the last rites.

2:54:21 PM
Good afternoon lovely Chockstoners, and isn't it a pleasant afternoon at that, what with the weather improved from the last few days, and a long weekend coming up.
Take care on the roads out there if going on holidays won't you dearies?

I was told the Pope went on holydays to Victoria once.

On a tour of Australia, the Pope took a few days off to visit the Victorian coast
for some sightseeing.

He was cruising along near the beach in the Pope-mobile when there was a frantic
commotion just off shore. A helpless man, swimming with an action closely resembling that of an English climber clipping rings, was struggling frantically to free himself from the jaws of an 8 metre shark. As the Pope watched in horror, a speedboat pulled up with three men wearing tradster climbing clothes in it.

One quickly fired a harpoon into the sharks side while the other two reached out and pulled the blue semiconscious sport climber from the water.
Then, using long clubs, the three beat the shark to death and hauled it into the boat.

Immediately the Pope shouted and summoned them to him.

"I give you my blessing for your brave actions. I heard that there were some bitter hatreds between traditional and sport climbers in this country, but now I have seen with my own eyes that this is not true."

As the Pope drove off, the trad harpooner asked his mates,

"Who was that?"

"It was the Pope" one replied.

"He is in direct contact with God and has access to all of God's wisdom."

"Well" the harpooner said, "he may have access to God and his wisdom, but he knows bugger all about shark fishing".

"Is the bait holding up OK or do we need to get another one?"

If fishing is not your thing on your rest days from climbing darlings, you might like the local entertainment options better?

Two chimps and a Blonde.

A blonde lady motorist was about two hours from the Gold Coast when she was flagged down by a man whose truck had broken down. The man walked up to the car and asked, 'Are you going to the Gold Coast?'
'Sure,' answered the blonde, 'do you need a lift ?'
'Not for me. I'll be spending the next three hours fixing my truck My problem is I've got two chimpanzees in the back which have to be taken to the Gold Coast Zoo. They're a bit stressed already so I don't want to keep them on the road all day. Could you possibly take them to the zoo for me ? I' ll give you $100 for your trouble..'
'I'd be happy to,' said the blonde. So the two chimpanzees were ushered into the back seat of the blonde's car and carefully strapped into their seat belts. Off they went.
Five hours later, the truck driver was driving through the heart of the Gold Coast when suddenly he was horrified!! There was the blonde walking down the street and holding hands with the two chimps, much to the amusement of a big crowd. With a screech of brakes he pulled off the road and ran over to the blonde. 'What the heck are you doing here ?' he demanded, 'I gave you $100 to take these chimpanzees to the zoo.'
'Yes, I know you did,' said the blonde,' but we had money left over --- so now we're going to SeaWorld.

1:16:01 AM
Q. How many Marxists does it take to change a light bulb?
A. None. Every light bulb contains the seeds of its own revolution.

Eduardo Slabofvic
1:15:27 PM
In the Chinese zodiac year of the Horse we had Equine Flu. This year is the year of the Pig, and we have
Swine Flu. Next year is the year of the c--k.

You know its true.
11:36:22 AM
It's f*cking cold in Natimuk today and it make me think of this joke. Apologies if it's been used before. Couldn't be arsed doing a search.

Dr. Schambaugh, of the University of Oklahoma School of Chemical Engineering, Final Exam for May of 1997 consisted of only one question. Dr. Schambaugh is known for asking questions such as, ‘’Why do airplanes fly?’’ on his final exams. His one and only final exam question in May 1997 for his Momentum, Heat and Mass Transfer II class was:

‘’Is hell exothermic or endothermic? Support your answer with proof.’’

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle’s Law or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:

"First, we postulate that if souls exist, then they must have some mass. If they do, then a mole of souls can also have a mass. So, at what rate are souls moving into hell and at what rate are souls leaving? I think we can safely assume that once a soul gets to hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for souls entering hell, let us look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Some of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, then you will go to hell. Since there are more than one of these religions and people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all people and souls go to hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change in volume in hell. Boyle’s law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in hell to stay the same, the ratio of the mass of souls and volume needs to stay constant. Two options exist:

1. If hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter hell, then the temperature and pressure in hell will increase until all hell breaks loose.
2. If hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until hell freezes over. So which is it? If we accept the quote given to me by Theresa Manyan during Freshman year, ‘’that it will be a cold night in hell before I sleep with you’’ and take into account the fact that I still have NOT succeeded in having sexual relations with her, then Option 2 cannot be true. Thus, hell is exothermic."

Which reminds me also of an Alexis Sale joke, "The philosophy exam was a piece of cake, which was funny cos I was expecting a piece of paper with questions on it."
mikl law
12:08:37 PM
As a man sat down in a restaurant, he knocked the spoon off the table with his elbow. A nearby waiter reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a clean spoon, and set it on the table.
The diner was impressed. "Do all the waiters here carry spoons in their pockets?"
The waiter replied, "Yes. Ever since an Efficiency Expert visited our restaurant... He determined that 17.8% of our diners knock the spoon off the table. By carrying clean spoons with us, we save trips to the kitchen."
The diner ate his meal. As he was paying the waiter, he commented, "Forgive the intrusion, but do you know that you have a string hanging from your fly?"

The waiter replied, "Yes, we all do. The same Efficiency Expert determined that we spend to much time washing our hands after using the men's room. So,
the other end of that string is tied to my penis. When I need to go, I simply pull the string, do my thing, and then return to work. Having never touched myself, there really is no need to wash my hands. Saves a lot of time."

"Wait a minute," said the diner, "how do you get your penis back in your pants?"

"Well, I don't know about the other guys, but I use the spoon."

2:30:09 PM
On 12/06/2009 Mr hero wrote:
>It's f*cking cold in Natimuk today and it make me think of this joke.

It is quite cold here too dearie. Derek my M10 love went out to get the newspaper this morning and when he came back he told me he saw a dog stuck to a tree!

>One student, however, wrote the following:
>If we accept the quote given to me by Theresa Manyan during
>Freshman year, ‘’that it will be a cold night in hell before I sleep with
>you’’ and take into account the fact that I still have NOT succeeded in
>having sexual relations with her.

This is not a euphemism for an author in Nati is it dearie?

Derek tells me that fellow has been having a bad trot lately, and gave this to me to post.

On a recent trip to Tasmania a tall well known Vic guide book author, was invited to address a major gathering of the Indigineous Tribes in Hobart, due to his experiences in handling the Australian Indigineous situation at Arapilies. (No soft targets getting mugged on railway platforms here dearies).
He spoke for almost an hour on his ideas for increasing every First Nation's present standard of living and the soul aspects of applying this to a liesure lifestyle amongst Pine trees.
At the conclusion of his speech, the tribes presented him with a plaque inscribed with his new Aboriginal name - Walking Eagle.
The proud author then departed with his entourage, waving to the crowd as he left.
A news reporter later asked the tribal elders how they came to select the new name given to the famous author.
They explained that Walking Eagle is the name given to a bird so full of sh_t, it can no longer fly.

If you happen to see Mr he who wrote the book Mr Hero, you must tell him that it is all about friendship dearie. Why just the other day Derek bought a tear to my eye when he waxed lyrical about our love being really more like simply having a great friend. I asked him what he meant and managed to remember most of what he said, because I copied it down on a card soon after. Isn't that fortunate ! because now I can share it with you.

Are you tired of those sissy 'friendship' poems that always sound good, but never actually come close to reality? Well, here is a series of promises that actually speak of true friendship. You will see no cutesy little smiley faces on this card. Just the stone cold truth of our great friendship.

1. When you are sad -- I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad.

2. When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.

3. When you smile -- I will know you are plotting something that I want to be involved in.

4. When you are scared -- I will rag on you about it every chance I get.

5. When you are worried -- I will tell you horrible stories about how much Worse it could be until you quit whining.

6. When you are confused -- I will use little, tiny words.

7. When you are sick -- Stay the hell away from me until you are well again. I don't want whatever you have.

8. When you fall -- I will probably point and laugh at you.

9. This is my oath.... I pledge it to the end 'Why?' you may ask; 'because you are my friend'.

He reckons friendship is like peeing your pants, everyone can see it, but only you can feel it's true warmth, but I am not so sure about that.

Share the love Mr Hero. Tell this to 10 of your closest friends, but don't get depressed because you can only think of 4.

Remember: A friend will help you move. A really good friend will help you move a body. Let me know if I ever need to bring a shovel.

4:22:21 PM
Ah, Mrs M10, again you brighten my day.

A friend of mine once wrote on my 21st birthday card, "Smile they said, it could be worse. So I did. And it was."

There are a few people in Nati it could be a euphemism for but the tall guy is not one of them.
5:17:44 PM
On 12/06/2009 MrsM10iswhereitsat. wrote:
>He reckons friendship is like peeing your pants, everyone can see it, but only you can
>feel it's true warmth

Love it.

8:59:07 AM
An oldie but a goodie...

Q: What's brown and sounds like a bell?
A: Dung!
12:06:38 PM
On 13/06/2009 pmonks wrote:

>Q: What's brown and sounds like a bell?
>A: Dung!

That's a Spike Milligan joke. Here is what I consider to be the best limerick ever, it's also by Spike.

There was a young man called Wyatt
Whose voice was remarkably quiet
Then one day
It faded away
12:57:30 PM
Sorry MrsM10, couldn't wait. And no one was probably reading my jokes on the excitingly labelled forum improvements thread.

I took my pet giraffe down the pub with me the other day to celebrate his birthday. We started drinking and had a great time but ten pints of coopers later and we were ruined. We both realised we'd had enough so we got up to leave. As my giraffe stood up his legs started to wobble and he collapsed in a heap on the floor. I thought to myself there was no way i was carrying him home so i decided to leave him there. As i was walking out the bar man said 'Hay what the hell are you doing? you cant leave that lyin' there'

So i said 'its not a lion its a giraffe'
1:15:34 PM
A mechanic was removing a cylinder-head from the motor of a Harley motorcycle when he spotted a well-known cardiologist in his shop. The cardiologist was there waiting for the service manager to come and take a look at his bike when the mechanic shouted across the Garage, "Hey Doc, want to take a look at this?' The cardiologist, a bit surprised, walked over to where the mechanic was working on the motorcycle. The mechanic straightened up, wiped his hands on a rag and asked, 'So Doc, look at this engine. I open its heart, take the valves out, repair any damage, and then put them back in, and when I finish, it works just like new. So how come I make only $70,000 a year and you get the really big bucks when you and I are doing basically the same work?' The cardiologist paused, smiled and leaned over, then whispered to the mechanic... "Try doing it with the engine running."

3:43:38 PM
On 18/06/2009 Mr hero wrote:
>Sorry MrsM10, couldn't wait. And no one was probably reading my jokes on
>the excitingly labelled forum improvements thread.

You are an impetuous young lad aren't you Mr Hero, but I found your jokes over there are not as good as your efforts here. I did notice that you have one admirer on that thread, so it is OK to be in your own little world, because you are known there. (Pass me one of those sandwitches I made for afternoon tea please Derek my M10 love).
Don't let it get your knickers in a knot possum; as it will solve nothing and will make you climb funny.

Yoohoo Mr BA, I see you are a fan of British humour. Probably were too when you were a lad I suspect. My, but it was tough back in those days wasn't it dearie? What did you think of Mr Hero's giraffe going legless? Derek tells me (while munching on another sandwitch. He really shouldn't talk with his mouth full), that that is what happens when one parties like an animal! Getting it on track might have been easier than what these gents dealt with, as getting religion always seems easier when we're young, Derek tells me.

Giving religion to the locals.

An Irish priest, an American Pentecostal preacher and a rabbi all served as chaplains to the inmates of a Melbourne climbing gym. They would get together two or three times a week for coffee and to talk shop.

One day, someone made the comment that preaching to people isn't really that hard. A real challenge would be to preach to a kangaroo. One thing led to another, and they decided to do a seven-day experiment. They would all go out into the sticks, find a kangaroo and preach to it.

Seven days later, they're all together to discuss the experience. Father O'Flannery, who has his arm in a sling, is on crutches, and has various bandages, goes first.

"Wellll," he says, in a fine Irish brouge, "Ey wint oot into th' sticks to fynd me a rroo. Oond when Ey fund him Ey began to rread to him from the Catechism. Welll, the rroo wanted naught to do wi' me und begun to slap me aboot. So I quick grrabbed me holy water and, THE SAINTS BE PRAISED, he became as gentle as a lamb. The bishop is cooming oot next wik to give him fierst communion und confierrmation."

Reverend Billy Bob spoke next. He was in a wheelchair, with an arm and both legs in casts, and an IV drip.

In his best fire and brimstone oratory he proclaimed, "WELL, brothers, you KNOW that we don't sprinkle...WE DUNK! I went out and I FOUND me a roo. And then I began to read to him from God's HOOOOLY WORD! But that roo wanted nothing to do with me. I SAY NO! He wanted NOTHING to do with me. So I took HOOOLD of him and we began to rassle. We rassled down one hill, UP another and DOWN another until we come to a crick. So I quick DUNK him and BAPTIZE his furry soul. An' jus like you sez, he wuz gentle as a lamb. We spent the rest of the week in fellowship, feasting on God's HOOOOLY word."

They both look down at the rabbi, who was lying in a hospital bed. He was in a body cast and traction with IV's and monitors running in and out of him.

The rabbi looks up and says, "Oy! You don't know what tough is until you try to circumcise one of those creatures!"

7:05:06 PM
Bill and Ben the Flower Pot Men go in to a pub for a few beers. After a while Bill turns to Ben and says, "blop blop she loba lop blop blop"

Ben rolls his eyes and replies to his mate, "F#ck, you get pissed easily Bill"
11:25:55 AM
Bill turns to Ben and says, "blop blop she loba lop blop blop"

Ben says "If you loved me you'd swallow it."
11:46:48 AM
On 20/06/2009 hero wrote:
>Ben says "If you loved me you'd swallow it."

HA! Sooo didn't expect that one coming...

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