You asked for it
Due to overwhelming demand (Okay, so it was one guy and he only "asked"- not demanded- once), here it is... the joke that made me laugh in spite of my ovaries yesterday.... (with hugs to my anonymous benefactor til he tells me otherwise).
Two guys are drinking at the bar one night till closing time. After the bar closes, they go to a friend's house and drink even more. At about 4:30 a.m., Guy1 says to Guy2, "I gotta go home. My wife is gonna kill me."
Guy2 says, "Aw, don't worry about it, you can make it up to her."
Guy1 looks nervous and says, "No, she might actually kill me dead."
So Guy2 says, "OK, here's what you do. When you get home, go inside, leave all the lights off. Take off your shoes and sneak into the bedroom then get naked and crawl into bed from the foot end under the covers. Crawl right up between her legs and start licking her pussy. Lick her pussy for all you're worth, lick to save your marriage, lick her pussy to save your life! She'll come all over your face and then roll over, fall asleep, and forgive you."
So, Guy1 says, "OK, I guess it's worth a try." He goes home, sneaks into the room, leaves the lights off, takes off his shoes, takes off his clothes and crawls into bed from the foot end. He crawls up between her legs and starts to lick her pussy. He licks her pussy for all he's worth. He licks her pussy to save his marriage; he licks her pussy to save his life.
After an hour of moaning and thrashing and bucking, his face is completely covered with pussy juice and she starts to come. She comes over and over for three or four minutes, then she rolls over and falls asleep.
"Well," he thinks, "Great! It worked!" He slides out of bed and goes into the bathroom to wash his face. When he opens the bathroom door to come back out, his wife is standing there.
She says, "Shhh...be very quiet and come into the living room. We're sleeping in there while your mom stays in our room."
rotflmao... (and resisting mightily the gag reflex, I might add.)
Now I really hafta excavate the 'zines from under the bathroom sink. Not only do I still need to "fix" the contemptible thing, they (the magazines) will be an almost endless font of truly sick and disgusting jokes... the ones I can repeat, anyway. We've got Playboys, Hustlers, Penthouse, etc. going back AGES. Then, there's the heavy artillery... my series of "Truly Tasteless Jokes" books.
'Course, a lot of those jokes are based on ethnicity, so I'm either gonna have to be really, really careful (like a huge pansy-ass) or start channelling Lenny Bruce and the ballsy-ness of Norman Lear, Archie Bunker and family (which, it just so happens, I already have an (over)abundance of, no?).
Just remember...
"WARNING: The program (blog) you are about to see (read) is "All in the Family" (caughtinthexfire). It seeks to throw a humerous spotlight on our frailties, prejudices, and concerns. By making them a source of laughter, we (I) hope to show - in a mature fashion (?) - just how absurd they are... (not to mention how ridiculous we've become in trying to avoid this shit)."
Okay?
Good, then...
Heh... I used to do this to WALLY EACHUS!!!! all the time. (Don't mind me, I just looove being the number one result when ya search for Wally, Wellacrest Farms, or anything having to do with either. I'm hoping it makes his wife drop DEAD of aggravation... and by the way, I've been told that she is a fat cow these days and poor Wally is gray-haired now. I knew Eric and I shouldn'ta been the ones to leave. I KNEW it...) Anyway, I used to have to medicate to sick cows for him and we'd record alla that in the "barn book". After a while, I started leaving him a joke a day in there, too.
Actually, I also did this to my 8th grade teacher, Mr. Durand- who looked EXACTLY like Ryan O'Neal when I was in his class-YUM!!! Man, that dude was gorgeous. We had a spelling test every week in these little notebooks we'd turn in for him to grade. After about the second week, I'd leave a joke and either verbally tell him the punchline later, when he'd ask or write it upside down at the bottom of the page. He liked it. He said so.
Then, there was his pot-smoking, Dylan-listening-to, bearded brother, Jim. I won many a staring contest with that guy, lemme tell ya. I'd have married either of 'em.
Aaaanyway... be prepared. Jokes, I've got. Millions of 'em and political correctness be damned.
"pc"- political correctness? Nope.
"pc"- pussified communication.
Remember that, too, okay?