Out in the garden, he’s Pete...
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Out in the garden, he’s Pete...
In the hot tub; Stu
A man with no arms and no legs is laying on the beach and crying.
A beautiful walks by and asks him, "what's wrong?".
He responds, "I'm feeling sorry for myself. I've never been fucked."
Being the good soul that she is the beautiful woman responds, "I can help with that."
A tremendous smile appears upon his face. Other parts stir as well.
She walks over to him. Picks him up, tosses him in the water and then says, "you're fucked now!"
Heh.
I laughed at this.
Proof I am going to Hell.
On topic: You guys may not know this, but I had an Uncle with two wooden legs. He was a night watchman at a Furniture factory in town.
One night, there was a huge fire. My Uncle raced in and bravely helped battle the blaze. Fortunately the factory was saved.
*snif*
But sadly, my Uncle was burned to the ground. :(
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What do you call a woman with a wooden leg?
Peg
I used to be engaged to a lady with a wooden leg, but then she broke it off.
I'm not sure if I've ever told this joke here but for years and years this has been my signature joke, which gets requested at parties from time to time and which is not meant for tender ears - in fact it led to a fairly serious confrontation one time with an audience that was perhaps poorly chosen. It's been my signature joke for so long that I no longer remember where I heard the original; I have changed it quite a bit from the form I originally heard and none of my changes have made it more palatable, so bail out now if you don't like it dark.
The whole incident goes back to the town I grew up in. I lived right down by the ocean, in what was then a pretty rough and tumble neighborhood full of fishermen and blue collar families. Anyway, the beach wasn't a beach, it was these steep, rocky cliffs with jagged points leading out into the ocean...if you've seen the Oregon coast, or the Alaskan coast, well, you're pretty much in the ballpark. There were footpaths you could walk out and look down at the unforgiving sea and it was beautiful, in a stark kind of way. I used to walk out there a lot.
One day I was out walking the trails down at the cliffs and out on a particularly foreboding point I spotted a boy, maybe six years old, crying and wailing. Naturally I jogged over to see what was going on.
"Hey," I said, "don't get too close to the edge there; it's dangerous. What's the matter? Maybe I can help."
"My mom and my dad were fighting," he said.
"Oh," I said, "try not to worry about that. Moms and dads have a lot of complicated things to deal with, and sometimes they fight. I'm sure it will be okay."
"No!" he said. "My dad pushed my mom and she fell over the side!"
"Oh god," I thought, and leaned as far as I dared. Sure enough, I could see a body in the grey and frigid water, barely floating, and moving only with the waves. She was gone.
"Where is your dad?" I asked. "Has he gone for help?"
"He tried," said the little boy. "But he slipped over there!"
And I looked back up the path and I could see a section that had crumbled away right at the edge of the cliff. I stepped towards it and although it was well back from the water, the news wasn't good: down below, fifty or sixty feet down, it was rock. There was a man's body, crumpled and still. I shook my head sadly and removed my belt, then began to unbutton my jeans. The boy looked at me, confused.
"What... why are you taking off your pants?"
"Little boy, I'm sorry," I said. "But this is just not your lucky day."
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