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| Posted by snickers13107 on 14-Aug-2005 | I Like MonkeysThe pet store was selling them for five cents a pieace. I thought this was
odd since they were normally a couple thousand. I decided not to look a
gift horse in the mouth so I bought 200 of them.
I like monkeys.
I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one of drive. His name
was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright.
They kept punching themselves in the genitals. I laughed. They punched me
in the genitals. I stopped laughing.
I herded them into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their new
environment. They would screech and hurl themselves off the couch at high
speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the spectacle
lost its novelty halfway into it's third hour.
Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive; they
all died. No apparent reason. They all just sort of dropped dead. Kinda
like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. Cheap monkeys.
I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my
room; on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like
I had 200 throw rugs. I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't
work. It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and one hundred
ninety-nine dead, dry monkeys.
I tried to pretend that they were just stuffed animals. That worked for
awhile, that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell real
bad.
I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in my toilet and I didn't want to
call a plumber. I was embarrassed.
I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately
there was only enough room for two at a time, so I had to change them
every 30 seconds. I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it
didn't go bad.
I tried to burn them, but little did I know that my bed was flammable. I
had to extinguish the fire.
Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in
my freezer, and one hundred ninety-seven dead, charred monkeys in a pile
on my bed. The odor wasn't improving.
I became agitated at my inability to dispose of the dead monkeys and I
really had to use the bathroom. So I went and severely beat one of the
monkeys. I felt better.
I tried throwing them away but the garbage man said the city was not
allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him I had a wet one. He
couldn't take it either. I didn't bother asking about the frozen ones.
I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My
friends didn't quite know what to say. They pretended to like them, but I
could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them in the genitals.
I like monkeys.
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| Posted by I Like Cheese You Like Cheese on 14-Aug-2005 | The Perfect PetA man goes into a pet shop and tells the owner that he wants to
buy a pet that can do everything.
The owner says, "How about a dog?"
The man replies, "A dog? That's so ordinary! And a dog can't
doeverything!"
The owner says, "How about a cat?"
The man replies, "No way! A cat certainly can't do everything. I
want a pet that can do everything!"
The owner thinks for a minute, then says, "I've got it -- a
centipede!"
The man says, "A centipede? I can't imagine a centipede doing
everything. But, okay ... I'll try a centipede."
He gets the centipede home and says to it, "Clean the kitchen."
Thirty minutes later, he walks into the kitchen and it's
immaculate. All the dishes and silverware have been washed,
polished, dried and put away. The countertops have been cleaned.
The appliances are sparkling. The floor has been waxed.
He's absolutely amazed. He says to the centipede, "Go clean the
living room." Twenty minutes later he walks into the living
room. The carpet has been vacuumed, the furniture clean and
dusted, the pillows on the sofa plumped and the plants watered.
The man thinks to himself, "This is the most amazing thing I've
ever seen. This is truly a pet that can do everything."
He says to the centipede, "Run down to the corner and get me a
newspaper." The centipede walks out the door. Ten minutes later,
no centipede. Twenty minutes later, no centipede. Thirty minutes
later, no centipede. The man is wondering what's going on. The
centipede should have been back in a couple of minutes.
Forty-five minutes later, still no centipede! The man can't
imagine what happened. Did the centipede run away? Did it get
run over by a car? Finally, he goes to the front door and opens
it ... and there's the centipede sitting right outside the door.
The man says, "Hey! I sent you 45 minutes ago to run down to the
corner and get me a newspaper. What's the story?" The centipede
says, "I'm goin'! I'm goin'! I'm puttin' on my shoes!"
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| Posted by Joe F. Cool on 14-Aug-2005 | The Slow SpeakerJohn and Steve were high school buddies. They have not seen each
other since they both went to college. Five years went by and
they ran into each other at a bar.
John spotted Steve first, "Hey Steve!" "Hey John! Long time no
see!" John was surprised that Steve spoke smoothly without
stutters--Steve has been stuttering since he was a child. "How
did you fix your speaking?" "I went to the doctor and he said
that if I speak really slow, I won't stutter! Did you hear? I
almost got married!" "How did you ALMOST get married?"
"Well, I was sitting on the front porch with my fiance and the
dog was sitting there too and he was scratching his back!
Although I have to speak slow, I said to my wife: When we're
married YOU can do that for me and then I pointed to the dog.
But, because I talk so slow, by then he was licking his balls!"
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| Posted by Lisa R. Schwarz on 14-Aug-2005 | Dogs vs. CatsA dog thinks, "Hey, these people I live with feed me, love me,
provide me with a nice warm, dry house, pet me, and take good care of me.
They must be Gods!"
A cat thinks, "Hey, these people I live with feed me, love me, provide me
with a nice warm, dry house, pet me, and take good care of me. I must be a
God!"
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| Posted by jeff on 14-Aug-2005 | Dead DobermanA highly timid little man, ventured into a biker bar in the Bronx and
clearing his throat asked, "Um, err, which of you gentlemen owns the
Doberman tied outside to the parking meter?"
A giant of a man, wearing biker leathers, his body hair growing out
through the seams, turned slowly on his stool, looked down at the
quivering little man and said, "It's my dog. Why?"
"Well," squeaked the little man, obviously very nervous, "I believe my dog
just killed it, sir."
"What?" roared the big man in disbelief. "What in the hell kind of dog do
you have?"
"Sir," answered the little man, "It's a four week old puppy."
"Bull!" roared the biker, "How could your puppy kill my Doberman?"
"It appears that he choked on it, sir."
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| Posted by Courtney L. van Emmerik on 14-Aug-2005 | Music for a movieJerry was hired to play his trumpet on the score of a movie, and he was
excited. He was especially thrilled because he got to take two long solos.
After the sessions, which went wonderfully, Jerry couldn't wait to see the
finished product. He asked the producer where and when he could catch the
film.
A little embarrassed, the producer explained that the music was for a
porno flick that would be out in a month, and he told Jerry where he could
go to see it.
A month later, Jerry, with his collar up and wearing glasses, went to the
theatre where the picture was playing. He walked in and sat way in the
back, next to an elderly couple who also seem to be disguised and hiding.
The movie started, and it was the filthiest, most perverse porno flick
ever...group sex, S&M, golden showers...and then, halfway through, a dog
got in on the action.
Before anyone could blink an eye, the dog has had sex with all the women,
in every orifice, and most of the men. Embarrassed, Jerry turned to the
old couple and whispered, "I'm only here for the music."
The woman turned to Jerry and whispered back, "That's okay, we're just
here to see our dog."
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