Good Morning Campers,
(Sniff, Snortle, Cough) Sorry I missed Wednesday’s issue (Sneeze, Sniff) but I’ve come down with the (Cough, Cough, Snortle, Sniff) Galloping Nevergetovers and I’ve been pretty sick. Still have to work, but well….that’s life.
So, (Sneeze, Sneeze, Sneeze) let’s just get on with laughing.
A Chinese guy comes into the pub, stands next to me and starts drinking. I says to him, “Do you know any of those martial arts like kung fu, ju-jitsu or karate?”
He says, “Why da fuck you ask me dat? Is it cuz I Chinese?”
“No” I said, “It’s because you’re drinking my fucking beer!”
Damn, I’m older than dirt!
A baby can drink a bottle, fall asleep and people say it’s cute. If I do it, I’m an alcoholic!
Walking into the bar Paddy said to Mick, the bartender, “Will you pour me a large one, I just had another fight with herself.”
“I will,” answered Mick, “and how did this one end?”
“Well, when it was over she came at me on her hands and knees.”
“Really?” asked Mick. “That’s a bit of a turn around, what did she say?”
“She said, ‘come out from under that bed ya spineless little gobshite ya!’”
Also known as an Asshole Lens.
A little boy and his grandfather are raking leaves in the yard. The little boy finds an earthworm trying to get back into its hole. He says, “Grandpa, I bet I can put that worm back in that hole.”
The grandfather replies, “I’ll bet you five dollars you can’t. It’s too wiggly and limp to put back in that little hole.”
The little boy runs into the house and comes back out with a can of hairspray. He sprays the worm until it is straight and stiff as a board. Then he puts the worm back into the hole.
The grandfather hands the little boy five dollars, grabs the hairspray, and runs into the house.
Thirty minutes later the grandfather comes back out and hands the little boy another five dollars.
The little boy says, “Grandpa, you already gave me five dollars.”
The grandfather replies, “I know. That’s from your grandma.”
The world is a little sadder this week for the loss of a great man. Stephen Hawking is dead at 76. You will be missed. And I am most assured that one of my favorite shows, The Big Bang Theory, will have something to say about it.
Stephen Hawking, the famed theoretical physicist who defied a diagnosis of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis to live virtually his entire adult life with the disease – in a wheelchair and paralyzed but making constant contributions to a world few could understand – has died at age 76, a family spokesman said.
Although Hawking may have been incapacitated physically, he managed to write books, including the best seller “A Brief History of Time,” teach physics and mathematics, deliver speeches and even float in zero gravity, all while working in the fields of cosmology and quantum gravity.
He was not modest about what he wanted to do. “My goal is simple,” he once said. “It is a complete understanding of the universe, why it is as it is and why it exists at all.”
You can read the rest of the very good article here: http://www.foxnews.com/science/2018/03/14/stephen-hawking-famed-physicist-dead-at-76.html
Joe had asked Bob to help him out with the deck after work, so Bob just went straight over to Joe’s place.
When they got to the door, Joe went straight to his wife, gave her a hug and told her how beautiful she was and how much he had missed her at work.
When it was time for supper, he complimented his wife on her cooking, kissed her and told her how much he loved her.
Once they were working on the deck, Bob told Joe that he was surprised that he fussed so much over his wife.
Joe said that he’d started this about six months ago, it had revived their marriage, and things couldn’t be better.
Bob thought he’d give it a go. When he got home, he gave his wife a massive hug, kissed her and told her that he loved her. His wife burst into tears.
Bob was confused and asked why she was crying.
She said, “This is the worst day of my life. First, little Billy fell off his bike and twisted his ankle. Then, the washing machine broke and flooded the basement. And now, you come home drunk!”
You may have noticed that today is St. Patrick’s Day and that today’s issue had a definite lack of any Irish. It has been Lethal’s day for so long, that I just knew I couldn’t do it justice and trying to would just my heart further.
I miss you lots brother and want you to hurry up and get better, but you take this time to heal and put yourself back together. But know that you are loved and missed.
Cheers!
Impish Dragon
Thanks for the funnies!
But I do have one complaint . . .
When Trump got in, I thought “Great! I won’t have to see Obama’s face again!”
So sorry you are sneezing, coughing and feel like “crapola” take some Nyquil and go back to your crib. and wonder why the room is spinning. Feel better, we all need you!
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