tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5648878391804793392024-03-13T23:56:15.009-07:00Super Duper Funny JokesFat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comBlogger648125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-44665201651753843982016-02-29T15:39:00.003-08:002016-02-29T15:39:54.083-08:00Bill Gates in HeavenBill Gates died and, much to everyone's surprise, went to Heaven. When he got
there, he was met by Saint Peter.<br />
<br />
Saint Peter said, "Your paperwork seems to be in order. And with a background
like yours, you'll be getting a plum job assignment." <br />
<br />
"Job assignment?" <br />
<br />
"Of course. Did you expect to spend the rest of eternity sitting on your
backside and drinking ambrosia? Heaven is a big operation. You have to pull your
weight around here! Your job will be to supervise Heaven's new data processing
center. We're building the largest computing facility in creation. Half a
million computers connected by a multi-segment fiber optic network, all running
into a back-end server network with a thousand CPUs on a gigabit channel. Fully
fault-tolerant. Fully distributed processing. The works." <br />
<br />
Bill could barely contain his excitement. "Wow! What a great job! This is
really Heaven!"<br />
<br />
Saint Peter said, "Would you like to go see the center now?" "You bet!"<br />
<br />
Saint Peter and Bill caught the shuttle bus and went to Heaven's new data
processing center. It was a truly huge facility, a hundred times bigger than the
Astrodome. Workmen were crawling all over the place, getting the miles of fiber
optic cables properly installed. But the center was dominated by the computers.
Half a million computers, arranged neatly row-by-row, half a million .... ....
Macintoshes .... .... all running Claris software! Not a PC in sight! Not a
single byte of Microsoft code! <br />
<br />
The thought of spending the rest of eternity using products that he had spent
his whole life working to destroy was too much for Bill.<br />
<br />
"What about PCs???" he exclaimed. "What about Windows??? What about Excel???
What about Word???"<br />
<br />
"You're forgetting something," said Saint Peter.<br />
<br />
"What's that?" asked Bill plaintively.<br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span><br />
<br />
"This is Heaven," explained Saint Peter. "We need a computer system that's
heavenly to use. If you want to build a data processing center based on PCs
running Windows, then ... GO TO HELL!"Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-74665844976861024722016-02-29T15:37:00.003-08:002016-02-29T15:37:30.765-08:00Batteries not IncludedA man named Jake is struggling through a bus station with two huge and
obviously heavy suitcases when a stranger comes up behind him and asks Have you
got the time?<br />
<br />
Jake sighs, puts down the suitcases and turns around. After glancing at his
wrist he says it's about a quarter to six.<br />
<br />
Hey, that's a pretty fancy watch, exclaims the stranger. Jake brightens a
little. Yeah, it's not bad. Check this out, and he shows him a time zone display
not just for every time zone in the world, but for the 86 largest metropoli. He
hits a few buttons and from somewhere on the watch a voice says<br />
<br />
"The time is
eleven 'til six" in a very West Texas accent. A few more buttons and the same
voice says something in Japanese. Jake continues I've put in regional accents
for each city.<br />
<br />
The display is unbelievably high quality for a mere watch, and the voice is
simply astounding - smooth and perfectly audible, without the tinny sound you
might expect from a speaker that could fit on a watch. The stranger is struck
dumb with admiration.<br />
<br />
That's not all, says Jake. He pushes a few more buttons it has more than a
dozen and a tiny but very high resolution map of New York City appears on the
display. If we were outside, Jake says apologetically, it could show you where
we were by satellite positioning, but under this roof all it can do is remember
my last position and a map of the surrounding area. View recede ten, he adds to
the watch, and the display changes to show eastern New York state.<br />
<br />
It responds to voice? gasps the stranger, and Jake nods enthusiastically. But
I haven't got it all programmed yet, most of the functions are still
button-activated.<br />
<br />
I want to buy that watch, says the stranger. Oh, no, it's not ready for sale
yet; I'm still working out the bugs, says the inventor. But look at this: and he
proceeds to demonstrate that the watch is also a very creditable little FM radio
receiver with a digital tuner, a sonar device that can measure distances up to
125 meters as well as trigger the stopwatch function for close racing finishes,
a pager with thermal paper printout and, most impressive of all to the now
drooling listener, has capacity for voice recordings of up to 300 standard size
books, though I only have 32 of my favourites in there so far, says Jake. He
starts up The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, by Robert Heinlein, and although the
stranger has never heard of either he can still hear those amazing un-tinny
voices coming out of the normal-sized watch on Jake's wrist.<br />
<br />
I've got to have that watch, he says.<br />
No, you don't understand; it's not ready<br />
I'll give you $1000 for it.<br />
Oh, no, I've already spent more than $8000.<br />
I'll give you $10000 for it.<br />
But it's just not done.<br />
I'll give you $15000 for it. And the stranger pulls out a chequebook. I've
just *got* to have that watch.<br />
But.... Jake stops to think. He's only put about $8500 into materials and
development, and with $15,000 he could make another one and have it ready for
merchandising in only another half a year. $15000?<br />
<br />
The stranger frantically finishes writing the check and waves it in front of
him. Here it is, ready to hand to you right here and now.<br />
<br />
Jake abruptly makes his decision. Ok, he says, and peels off the watch. They
make the exchange, the check for the watch, and the stranger starts happily
away.<br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span><br />
<br />
Hey, wait a minute, calls Jake after the stranger, who turns around warily.
Jake indicates the two suitcases he'd been trying to wrestle through the bus
station. Don't you want the batteries?Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-26654830864494926472016-02-29T15:34:00.001-08:002016-02-29T15:34:31.924-08:00A Good Y2K Bug>From: Automated Payroll Processing Dept.<br />
>Date: January 1, 2000<br />
>Subject: Vacation Pay<br />
<br />
Dear Valued Employee:<br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span><br />
<br />
Our records indicate that you have not used any vacation time over the past
100 year(s). As I'm sure you are aware, employees are granted 3 weeks of paid
leave per year or pay in lieu of time off. One additional week is granted for
every 5 years of service. Please either take 9,400 days off work or notify our
office and your next pay check will reflect payment of $8,277,432.22 which will
include all pay and interest for the past 1,200 monthsFat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-87476226817957045952016-02-29T15:33:00.002-08:002016-02-29T15:33:55.994-08:001997 Ferrari GTOA hip young man goes out and buys a 1997 Ferrari GTO. It is the best and most
expensive car available in the world, costing about $500,000.<br />
<br />
He takes it out for a spin and while stopping for a red light, an old man on
a moped (both looking about 90 years old) pulls up next to him. The old man
looks over the sleek, shiny surface of the car and asks, "What kind of car ya'
got there, sonny?" The young man replies, "A 1997 Ferrari GTO.<br />
<br />
They cost about a
half million dollars!" "That's a lot of money," says the old man, shocked. "Why
does it cost so much?" "Because this car can do up to 320 miles an hour!",
states the cool dude proudly. The moped driver asks, "Can I take a look inside?"
"Sure," replies the owner.<br />
<br />
So the old man pokes his head in the window and looks around. Leaning back on
his moped, the old man says, "That's a pretty nice car, all right!" <br />
<br />
Just then the light changes so the guy decides to show the old man what his
car can do. He floors it, and within 30 seconds the speedometer reads 320 mph.
Suddenly, he notices a dot in his rear view mirror. It seems to be getting
closer! He slows down to see what it could be and suddenly, whhhoooossshhh!
Something whips by him, going much faster! "What on earth could be going faster
than my Ferrari?" the young man asks himself.<br />
<br />
Then, ahead of him, he sees a dot coming toward him. Whoooooosh! It goes by
again, heading the opposite direction! And it almost looked like the old man on
the moped. "Couldn't be," thinks the guy. "How could a moped outrun a Ferrari?!"
Again, he sees a dot in his rear view mirror!<br />
<br />
Whooooosh! Ka-BbblaMMM! It plows
into the back of his car, demolishing the rear end.<br />
<br />
The young man jumps out, and it IS the old man!!! Of course, the moped and
the old man are hurtin' for certain. He runs up to the old man and says, "You're
badly hurt! Is there anything I can do for you?"<br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span><br />
The old man moans and replies, "Yes..... Unhook my suspenders from your
side-view mirror!"Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-42427921837255789702016-02-29T15:32:00.002-08:002016-02-29T15:32:52.655-08:00Two Guys Playing GolfTwo guys were out playing golf. They tee off and one drive goes to the right
and one drive goes to the left. The first guy finds his ball in a patch of
buttercups. He grabs a club and takes a mighty swing at the ball. He hits a
beautiful second shot, but in the process he hacks the hell out of the
buttercups.<br />
Suddenly a woman appears out of nowhere. She blocks his path to his ball and
looks at him and says,<br />
<br />
"I'm Mother Nature, and I don't like the way you treated
my buttercups. From now on, you won't be able to stand the taste of butter. Each
time you eat butter you will become physically ill to the point of total
nausea." The woman then disappears as quickly as she appeared.<br />
<br />
Shaken, the guy calls out to his buddy. "Hey, where's your ball?"<br />
<br />
"It's over here in the pussy willows."<br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span><br />
<br />
The first guy screams back, "DON'T HIT THE BALL!!!! DON'T HIT THE
BALL!!!!"Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-58051979003242167752015-05-24T00:00:00.001-07:002015-05-24T00:00:05.944-07:00Ticket to SuperBowl<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">A guy named Bob receives a free ticket to the Super Bowl from his
company.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Unfortunately, when Bob arrives at the stadium he realises the seat is in the
last row in the corner of the stadium - he's closer to the Goodyear blimp than
the field.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">About halfway through the first quarter, Bob notices an empty seat 10 rows
off the field, right on the 50 yard line. He decides to take a chance and makes
his way through the stadium and around the security guards to the empty seat. As
he sits down, he asks the gentleman sitting next to him, "Excuse me, is anyone
sitting here?" The man says no.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Now, very excited to be in such a great seat for the game, Bob again inquires
of the man next to him, "This is incredible! Who in their right mind would have
a seat like this at the SuperBowl and not use it?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The man replies, "Well, actually, the seat belongs to me, I was supposed to
come with my wife, but she passed away. This is the first Super Bowl we haven't
been together at since we got married in 1967."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Well, that's really sad," says Bob, "but still, couldn't you find someone to
take the seat? A relative or close friend?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"No," the man replies, "they're all at the funeral."</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-71143964465622734062015-05-24T00:00:00.000-07:002015-05-24T00:00:02.324-07:00Three Rabbis Playing Golf<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">Three very religious rabbis in black with long beards were playing golf. An
Irish catholic, named Mulhaney, wanted to play golf and this was the only
threesome in which he could play. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">So he joins the rabbis and plays 18 holes.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
<br />
At the end of the game his score is 104. The rabbis shot 69, 70 and 71.<br />
<br />
He asks them, "How come you all play such good golf?" <br />
<br />
The lead rabbi said, "When you live a religious life, join and attend temple,
you are rewarded." <br />
<br />
Mulhaney loves golf and figures, what do I have to lose. So he finds a temple
close to his home, attends twice a week, converts, joins and lives a holy
life.<br />
<br />
About a year later he again plays golf with the three rabbis. He shoots a 104
and they shoot a 69, 70, 71. He says to them, "Okay, I joined a temple, I live a
religious life and I'm still shooting lousy."<br />
<br />
The lead rabbi said to him, "What temple did you join?"<br />
<br />
He said, "Beth Shalom". <br />
<br />
The rabbi retorted, "No No No! That one's for tennis!"</span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-70625093517848608892015-05-23T00:00:00.001-07:002015-05-23T00:00:07.315-07:00The Big Tree<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">A young man who was also an avid golfer found himself with a few hours to
spare one afternoon. He figured if he hurried and played very fast, he could get
in 9 holes before he had to head home. Just as he was about to tee off an old
gentleman shuffled onto the tee and asked if he could accompany the young man as
he was golfing alone. Not being able to say no, he allowed the old gent to join
him.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">To his surprise the old man played fairly quickly. He didn't hit the ball
far, but plodded along consistently and didn't waste much time. Finally, they
reached the 9th fairway and the young man found himself with a tough shot. There
was a large pine tree right in front of his ball - and directly between his ball
and the green. After several minutes of debating how to hit the shot the old man
finally said, "You know, when I was your age I'd hit the ball right over that
tree."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">With that challenge placed before him, the youngster swung hard, hit the ball
up, right smack into the top of the tree trunk and it thudded back on the ground
not a foot from where it had originally lay.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The old man offered one more comment, "Of course, when I was your age that
pine tree was only 3 feet tall."</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-18774069711725898152015-05-23T00:00:00.000-07:002015-05-23T00:00:01.599-07:00Stevie Plays Golf <span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Stevie Wonder and Jack Nicklaus are in a bar. Nicklaus turns to Wonder and
says, "How is the singing career going?"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Stevie Wonder says, "Not too bad, the latest album has gone into the top 10,
so all in all I think it is pretty good. By the way how is the golf."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Nicklaus replies: "Not too bad, I am not winning as much as I used to but I'm
still making a bit of money. I have some problems with my swing but I think I've
got that right now."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"I always find that when my swing goes wrong I need to stop playing for a
while and think about it, then the next time I play it seems to be all right,"
says Stevie.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"You play golf!" asks Jack.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Stevie says, "Yes, I have been playing for years."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"But I thought you were blind; how can you play golf if you are blind?" Jack
asks.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"I get my caddie to stand in the middle of the fairway and he calls to me. I
listen for the sound of his voice and play the ball towards him, then when I get
to where the ball lands the caddie moves to the green or further down the
fairway and again I play the ball towards his voice," explains Stevie.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"But how do you putt?" Nicklaus wondered.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Well," says Stevie, "I get my caddie to lean down in front of the hole and
call to me with his head on the ground and I just play the ball to the sound of
his voice."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Nicklaus says, "What is your handicap?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Well, I play off scratch," Stevie assures Jack.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Nicklaus is incredulous and says to Stevie, "We must play a game
sometime."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Wonder replies, "Well, people don't take me seriously so I only play for
money, and I never play for less than $100,000 a hole."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Nicklaus thinks it over and says, "OK, I'm up for that. When would you like
to play?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"I don't care - any night next week is OK with me."</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-31080668331803132432015-05-21T03:59:00.002-07:002015-05-21T03:59:29.928-07:00Scotsman at a Baseball Game<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">A Scotsman was at a baseball game. It was the first time he had ever seen the
sport so he sat quietly. The first batter approached the mound, he took a few
swings and then hit a double. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Everyone was on their feet screaming "Run, Run."
This happened two more times, with a single and a triple.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The Scotsman was now excited and ready to get into the game. The next batter
came up and four balls went by. The umpire called "walk" and the batter started
on a slow trot to first.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The Scotsman, extremely excited now, stood up and screamed, "R-R-Run ye
basstarrd, rrrun!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Everyone around him started laughing. So the Scotsman, extremely embarrassed,
sat back down. A friendly fan, seeing the Scot's embarrassment, leaned over and
said, "He can't run - he got four balls."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The Scotsman then stood up and screamed, "Walk with pride, man... walk with
pride!"</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-37831920150728498882015-05-21T03:57:00.001-07:002015-05-21T03:57:16.603-07:00Overweight Golfers<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Two overweight middle-aged men were both ordered by their physicians to get a
lot more exercise.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">They both took up golf and became partners.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">On their first time out, the one man said to the other, "I don't have the
energy to play too long today."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The second shook his head in agreement and said, "OK, We'll quit as soon as
either of us makes a hole in one."</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-41239722681420055972015-05-20T02:09:00.000-07:002015-05-20T02:09:00.196-07:00Mental Patient at a Baseball Game<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">An institution for the mentally ill arranged for its patients to attend a
baseball game. The director spent days training the patients to obey his
commands, so there wouldn't be any trouble. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
<br />
The day of the game was bright and sunny and the group arrived just before
the first pitch. When it was time for the National Anthem, the director yelled,
"Up, nuts!" and the patients immediately rose. When the National Anthem was
over, the director yelled, "Down, nuts!" and the inmates sat. The game proceeded
and the patients were well-behaved. When the home team made a good play, the
director yelled, "Clap, nuts!" and the patients applauded just like normal fans.
<br />
<br />
Things were going so well that the director left his seat to go get a hot dog
and a beer. But when he came back, there was a riot going on. <br />
<br />
The director finally located his assistant and demanded, "What happened?"
"Everything was fine," the assistant said, "until some guy came over and yelled,
'Peanuts'!"</span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-34322485161590867812015-05-20T02:08:00.000-07:002015-05-20T02:08:00.409-07:00Handicap<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">Two friends had arranged a round of golf and were now on the first tee,
preparing to start their game at 7 a.m.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
<br />
Just as the first was half way up his back swing, a good looking young lady
ran across the course about 10 yards in front of him, peeling off her clothes as
she went until she was totally naked. As she disappeared into the woods he
turned, dazed, to his companion, "What was that about?!!!"<br />
<br />
"Take no notice. Just get on with the game," replied the other.<br />
Settling down and lining up for his drive, the first golfer then noticed four
men in white coats running across the course on a similar track to the young
lady. "What......???!!!"<br />
<br />
"Look. Just get on with the game," said the second. "We don't have all day,
and you know the course closes at 9 p.m.," the second says with a chuckle.<br />
<br />
For the third time the golfer squared up to the ball, only to be distracted
by another man in a white coat running across the fairway, lugging two buckets
of sand. "Now, hold on a minute," said the first golfer, "I'm not playing until
you tell me what's going on."<br />
<br />
"OK." said the second. "Just over the wall there is an asylum. The young lady
is a patient who escapes and runs around naked from time to time. The guys in
white coats are chasing her."<br />
<br />
"I'll buy that," said the first, "but what's with the guy and the two buckets
of sand?"<br />
<br />
"He's the guy who caught her the last time. That's his handicap."</span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-4487225333978710642015-05-17T02:06:00.002-07:002015-05-17T02:06:32.789-07:00Gotcha<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">Once the club duffer challenged the local golf pro to a match, with a $100
bet on the side. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">"But," said the duffer, "since you're obviously much better
than l, to even it a bit you have to spot me two 'gotchas'."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
<br />
The golf pro didn't know what a 'gotcha' was, but he went along with it.<br />
<br />
And off they went. Coming back to the 19th hole, the rest of the club members
were amazed to see the golf pro paying the duffer $100.<br />
<br />
"What happened?" asked one of the members. "Well," said the pro. "l was
teeing up for the first hole, and as l brought the club down, the jerk stuck his
hand between my legs and grabbed my balls while yelling "Gotcha!"<br />
<br />
Have you ever tried to play 18 holes of golf waiting for the second
'gotcha'?"</span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-38553560839757941002015-05-17T02:04:00.000-07:002015-05-17T02:04:16.479-07:00Golf Partners<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bart and Art have been a twosome on the links every day since they've been
retired. One day, as they're putting on their golf shoes in the clubhouse, they
get into a conversation about heaven and whether there are any golf courses
there. They make a pact. The first one to die will come back and tell the other
one. Bart dies first, and sure enough, comes back to visit Art.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Art says, "Well are there any golf courses in heaven?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"I have good news and I have bad news," says Bart.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"We have the ultimate golf course in the sky and tournament which starts
tomorrow."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"So what's the bad news?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"You're my partner!"</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-74628489988587485352015-05-17T02:03:00.001-07:002015-05-17T02:03:06.582-07:00Golf Lesson<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">A foursome is waiting at the men's tee when another foursome of ladies are
hitting from the ladies tee. The ladies are taking their time and when finally
the last one is ready to hit the ball she hacks it about 10 feet, goes over to
it, hacks it another ten feet and looks up at the men waiting and says
apologetically: "I guess all those fucking lessons I took this winter didn't
help"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
<br />
One of the men immediately replies: "No, you see that's your problem. You
should have been taking golf lessons instead."</span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-63035447926709229962015-05-17T02:01:00.000-07:002015-05-17T02:01:22.781-07:00Golf in his Sleep<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">A guy and his wife are sound asleep in bed when all of a sudden the husband
cracks his wife right in the head. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
<br />
Wife responds "what the hell are you doing?" <br />
<br />
Husband says "I'm playing a really tough par 5 and I just crushed my drive!"
<br />
<br />
Wife... "knock it off and go back to sleep." <br />
<br />
Minutes later... crack... right in her head! <br />
<br />
Wife... "now what?" <br />
<br />
Husband... "I just drilled my three wood and I'm on the green!" <br />
<br />
Wife... "I mean it! Knock it off and go back to sleep!" <br />
<br />
Moments later... crack... WIFE hits HUSBAND right in the head! <br />
<br />
Husband... "what the hell did you do that for?"<br />
<br />
Wife... "I want you to stop using my pubic hairs to see which way the wind's
blowing!"</span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-4913948150694636452015-05-11T18:02:00.002-07:002015-05-11T18:02:53.293-07:00Golf Fanatic<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">John and his friend George go golfing together one Saturday morning, as they
have done for 24 years straight. Yes, you might say these guys were fanatics
about their golfing.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Later that day, John returns home exhausted, and plops down in the easy
chair. His wife is concerned and asks if something went wrong with his game.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"No, no," he replied, "I had the best game I had in years! As a matter of
fact, I started out the first three holes at 4 under par, including a
hole-in-two on the 3rd."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"So why are you so beat?" his wife asked. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Well, George had a heart attack and died on the 4th hole," he said.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"What?!? And you're so exhausted from trying to save him, huh?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"No, It was very quick and there was nothing anyone could've done. But after
that, it was just hit the ball, drag George, hit the ball, drag
George..."</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-90419788030865229422015-05-11T17:56:00.000-07:002015-05-11T17:56:01.973-07:00Four Married Guys<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Four married guys go golfing. During the 4th hole the following conversation
took place:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">First Guy: "You have no idea what I had to do to be able to come out golfing
this weekend. I had to promise my wife that I will paint every room in the house
next weekend."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Second Guy: "That's nothing, I had to promise my wife that I will build her a
new deck for the pool."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Third Guy: "Man, you both have it easy! I had to promise my wife that I will
remodel the kitchen for her."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">They continue to play the hole when they realized that the fourth guy has not
said a word. So they ask him. "You haven't said anything about what you had to
do to be able to come golfing this weekend.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">What's the deal?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Fourth Guy: "I just set my alarm for 5:30am. When it goes off, I shut off my
alarm, give the wife a budge and say, 'Golf Course or Intercourse?' So she says,
'Wear your sweater.'"</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-58012822993049443872015-05-10T00:08:00.002-07:002015-05-10T00:08:28.787-07:00Football Players<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">A football coach walked into the locker room before a game, looked over to
his star player and said, "I'm not supposed to let you play since you failed
math, but we need you in there. So what I have to do is ask you a math question,
and if you get it right, you can play." The player agreed, and the coach looked
into his eyes intently and asks, "Okay, now concentrate... what is two plus
two?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
<br />
The player thought for a moment and then he answered, "4?"<br />
<br />
"Did you say 4?!?" the coach exclaimed, excited that he got it right.<br />
<br />
At that, all the other players on the team began screaming, "Come on coach,
give him another chance!"</span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-90149527664663440632015-05-10T00:07:00.000-07:002015-05-10T00:07:17.482-07:00Bedtime Footbal Score<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">A guy comes home drunk one night at 3 in the morning. His wife is sleeping
and he is trying to sneak into bed. He's laying in bed for a few minutes and
cuts a fart.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">His wife wakes up and asks "what the hell was that?" </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">He replies "goal, i
am winning 1-0!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">She thinks to herself "I am gonna fix him", then lets one loose. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">He yells at her "what was that?" </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">She replies "goal, score is tied!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Now he thinks "I am gonna fix her." He's laying there for about 10 minutes
trying to work one up. He tries so hard that he shits the bed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The wife asks "now what the hell was that?" </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">He replied "halftime, switch
sides!"</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-42928427612965141062015-05-10T00:05:00.003-07:002015-05-10T00:05:47.192-07:00$5 Golf Bet<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">Sid and Barney head out for their usual 9 holes. Sid offers Barney, "let's
say we make the time worth the while, at least for one of us, and spot $5 on the
lowest score for the day." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">Barney agrees and they enjoy a great game. After the
8th hole, Barney is ahead by 1 stroke, but cuts his ball into the rough on the
9th.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica;">
<br />
"Help me find my ball, you look over there," he says to Sid. After 5 minutes,
neither has had any luck, and since a lost ball carries a four-point penalty,
Barney pulls a ball from his pocket and tosses it to the ground. "I've found my
ball!" he announces triumphantly.<br />
<br />
Sid looks at him forlornly, "After all the years we've been friends, you'd
cheat me on golf for a measly five bucks?!?"<br />
<br />
"What do you mean cheat? I found my ball sitting right here!"<br />
<br />
"And a liar, too!!!" Sid says with amazement. "I'll have you know I've been
standing on your ball for the last five minutes!"</span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-60945709236893337132015-05-10T00:04:00.000-07:002015-05-10T00:04:22.702-07:00Viagra Extra Strength<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">A guy walks into a pharmacy and says to the pharmacist, "Listen, I have three
girls coming over tonight. I've never had three girls at once, and I need
something to keep me horny...keep me potent."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The pharmacist reaches under the counter, unlocks the bottom drawer and takes
out a small cardboard box marked with a label "Viagra Extra Strength" and says,
"Here, if you eat this, you'll go nuts for twelve hours." The guy says, "Gimme
three boxes."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The next day the guy walks into the same pharmacy goes up to the pharmacist
and pulls down his pants. The pharmacist looks in horror as he notices the man's
jewels are black and blue, and the skin is hanging off in some places.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The man says, "Gimme a bottle of Ben Gay." The pharmacist replies, "Ben Gay?
You're not going to put Ben Gay on that are you?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The man says, "No, it's for my arms, the girls never showed up."</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-55969961166639576682015-05-09T23:54:00.000-07:002015-05-09T23:54:07.686-07:00The Suit<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">When the store manager returned from lunch, he noticed his clerk's hand was
bandaged, but before he could ask about the bandage, the clerk said he had some
very good news for him.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Guess what, sir?" the clerk said. "I finally sold that terrible, ugly suit
we've had so long!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Do you mean that repulsive pink-and-blue double-breasted thing?" the manager
asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"That's the one!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">That's great!" the manager cried, "I thought we'd never get rid of that
monstrosity! That had to be the ugliest suit we've ever had! But tell me. Why is
your hand bandaged?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Oh," the clerk replied, "after I sold the guy that suit, his guide dog bit
me."</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-564887839180479339.post-85630322516365966822015-05-09T23:51:00.001-07:002015-05-09T23:51:23.026-07:00No Name Toilet Paper<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">A little old lady goes into the store to do some shopping. She is bewildered
over the large selection of toilet paper.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: System,Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Pardon me, sir," she says to the store manager, "but can you explain the
differences in all these toilet papers?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Well," he replies pointing out one brand, "this is as soft as a baby's kiss.
It's $1.50 per roll." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">He grabs another and says, "This is nice and soft, strong
but gentle, and it's $1.00 a roll." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Pointing to the bottom shelf he tells her,
"We call that our No Name brand, and it's 20 cents per roll."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Give me the No Name," she says.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">She comes back about a week later, seeks out the manager and says, "Hey! I've
got a name for your No Name toilet paper. I call it John Wayne."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Why," he asks.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Because it's rough, it's tough and it don't take shit off
anybody!"</span></span>Fat Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04568170434882752841noreply@blogger.com