truly2misc

 

Miscellaneous

 

 

A stuck-up fellow comes into a bar and proclaims himself the finest wine connoisseur in the city. He’s so good, in fact, that he can identify the vintage and vineyard of any wine they carry, just from a sip.

Skeptical, the barman puts down a glass of white in front of him. “Pinot Grigio from Abruzzi,” he proclaims. “1979 was a very poor year; please offer me something better the next time.” Next is a rich glass of red. “Mouton Lafitte Rothschild, 1956. From the first row of vines on the westernmost hill. Quite delicious.” The man goes on to correctly identify Californian reds, Spanish rosés, and sweet German whites, until the bartender is sick to death of him. Turning aside, he discreetly pees in a glass, chills it, and sets it before the connoisseur.

“Why that’s piss,” he splutters, spitting it on the floor.

“Yeah,” says the bartender, “but whose?”

*

There was a wealthy old gentleman who desired the services of a prostitute, so he arranged with a call-girl service to send over their $1,000, top-of-the-line girl. She got all dolled up, rode over to his fancy apartment building, and was escorted up to his penthouse, where the door was opened by the elderly millionaire himself. “And what can I do for you tonight, sir?” she asked in her throatiest voice, dropping her fur coat to reveal a slinky lamé dress.

“Hot tub,” he said.

So they went into his luxuriously appointed bathroom where she settled him into the tub. “And now, sir?” she asked.

“Waves,” he said.

So she perched herself on the edge of the tub and proceeded to kick her feet vigorously to make waves. “And next, sir?”

“Thunder.”

Obligingly banging her hand against the side of the tub, she felt it necessary to remind him that he was paying $1,000 for her special services, and surely there was some sort of special service she could perform for him.

“Yes,” he said, “lightning.”

Kicking her feet in the water, banging on the side of the tub with one hand, and flicking the light switch on and off with the other, she felt obliged to give it one more shot. “Sir, you know I am a hooker . . . Uh, sexual matters are my specialty . . . Isn’t there something along those lines you’d be interested in?”

“In this weather?” he said, looking up at her. “Are you crazy?”

*

Three old guys are sitting around in the park, discussing whose memory goes back the farthest. Says Larry, “I remember being taken to the church, all dressed up in this scratchy white stuff, and having people standing around and someone splashing water on me.”

“Aww, that’s nothing,” says Irv. “I can remember this nice, dark room, and then being squeezed something terrible, and coming out into this big bright room and being spanked—it was awful.”

“I got you two beat by a mile,” says Fred. “I remember going to a picnic with my father and coming back with my mother.”

*

What’s blue and comes in Brownies?

Cub Scouts.

*

What’s gray and comes in quarts?

Elephants.

*

Why do Valley Girls wear two diaphragms?

Fer shurr, fer shurr.

*

The Israelites were all waiting anxiously at the foot of the mountain, knowing that Moses had had a tough day negotiating with God over the Commandments. Finally a tired Moses came into sight. “I’ve got some good news and some bad news, folks,” he said. “The good news is that I got Him down to ten. The bad news is that adultery’s still in.”

*

You know why sex is like a bridge game?

You don’t need a partner if you have a good hand.

*

What’s the definition of mixed emotions?

When you see your mother-in-law backing off a cliff in your brand new Mercedes.

*

Did you hear that Air Florida now serves Key Largo, Key West . . . and Key Bridge?

That they’ve got two new classes besides smoking and nonsmoking . . . swimming and non-swimming?

That they have free drinks on all flights . . . they just have to stop and pick up the ice.

*

Which of the following words is out of place: wife, dog, meat, blow job?

Blow job. You can beat your wife, you can beat your dog, you can beat your meat, but nothing beats a blow job.

*

What do cowboy hats and hemorrhoids have in common?

Sooner or later every asshole has one.

*

Two little kids, aged six and eight, decide it’s time to learn how to swear. So the eight-year-old says to the six-year-old, “Okay, you say ‘ass’ and I’ll say ‘hell.’”

All excited about their plan, they troop downstairs, where their mother asks them what they’d like for breakfast. “Aw, hell,” says the eight-year-old, “gimme some Cheerios.” His mother backhands him off the stool, sending him bawling out of the room, and turns to the younger brother. “What’ll you have?”

“I dunno,” quavers the six-year-old, “but you can bet your ass it ain’t gonna be Cheerios.”

*

How do you get twenty Argentines into a phone booth?

Tell ‘em they own it.

*

What’s the difference between erotic and kinky?

Erotic is when you use a feather; kinky is when you use the whole chicken.

*

Why did Begin besiege Beirut?

To impress Jody Foster.

*

The newlywed couple is ushered into the doctor’s office. The husband is clearly embarrassed by the circumstances, but makes it clear that the visit is his idea. “You see, doctor,” he confides, “my wife, she eats like a horse.”

“That’s absolutely nothing to be concerned about,” says the doctor reassuringly. “Many young women have surprisingly hearty appetites.”

“Oh I know, doctor,” says the young man. “But my wife spends all day on all fours in the barn, and all she’ll eat is barley, oats, and hay.”

“Hmmm,” says the doctor, sitting and thinking quietly for a few minutes. Then he turns and begins scribbling on a piece of paper.

“Can you cure her, doctor?” asks the new husband anxiously. “Is that some sort of prescription?”

“No, no, no,” says the doctor. “It’s a permit so she can shit in the streets.”

*

A lovelorn young man wrote to an advice columnist as follows:

Dear Abby,

I just met the most terrific girl and we get along fabulously. I think she’s the one for me. There’s just one problem: I can’t remember from our first date if she told me she had T.B. or V.D. What should I do?

—Confused

Abby replies:

Dear Confused,

If she coughs, fuck her.

*

First guy: “Know how to keep an asshole in suspense?”

Second guy: “No, how?”

First guy: “I’ll tell you later.”

*

Why does Dolly Parton have such a small waist?

Nothing grows in the shade.

*

How can you tell Dolly Parton’s kids in the playground?

Stretch marks on their lips.

*

Did you hear about the eighty-year-old man who streaked the flower show?

He won first prize for his dried arrangement.

*

How do you get a Kleenex to dance?

Blow a little boogie into it.

*

Joe: “How many birds in a flock?”

Sam: “I dunno.”

Joe: “How many bees in a hive?”

Sam: “I dunno.”

Joe: “How many lives does a cat have?”

Sam: “Nine.”

Joe: “Well how come if you don’t know shit about the birds and the bees, you know so much about pussy?”

*

What’s the worst thing about being an egg?

You only get laid once; you only get eaten once; it takes you ten minutes to get hard and three minutes to get soft; you come in a box with eleven other guys; and only your mother sits on your face.

*

What’s the definition of a real buddy?

Someone who’ll go downtown and get two blow jobs, and come back and give you one.

*

Two guys are walking across the street when they run into a mutual friend, and they comment on how prosperous-looking he is. It turns out he has every reason to be: he’s got an eighty-foot yacht, a beautiful wife, a private jet plane, and a million dollars in the bank.

You can imagine their surprise when they run into him two weeks later, dressed in rags and shuffling along dejectedly. They press the sad story out of him. Apparently, he loaned the yacht to a friend who ran it aground and wrecked it, and he had no insurance.

“So?” say the two guys. “It’s only a boat.”

“Yes, but I didn’t have any insurance on the jet either, and it was destroyed in a fire at the airstrip.”

“Hey, take heart,” say his friends, “at least you’ve still got your lovely wife and your bank balance.”

“Not so fast, fellas,” says the poor guy. “My wife ditched me for another guy and her lawyer took me for every cent I had. I’ll tell you, if I’ve learned one thing from all of this, here’s what it is: If it flies, floats, or fucks, lease it.”

*

What’s the ultimate rejection?

While you’re masturbating, your hand falls asleep.

*

Did you hear about the latest over-the-counter scare?

Someone slipped Krazy Glue into Preparation H.

*

This really conceited guy is fucking this really conceited girl.

Says she, “Aren’t I tight?”

Says he, “No, just full.”

*

Sam Lefkovitz is having an intimate party to celebrate his thirty immensely profitable years in the construction business. “You know,” he laments to his friends, “over the years I have constructed dozens of enormous projects in and around this city, but am I known as Sam the Builder? No.

“And over the years I have contributed literally millions of dollars to charitable causes of one sort or another, but am I called Sam the Philanthropist? No, sir.

“But suck one little cock . . .”

*

What’s organic dental floss?

Pubic hair.

*

Queen Elizabeth and Lady Di are out for a drive in the royal car on a Sunday afternoon, and they slow down when they see a man by the roadside signaling for help. But no sooner has the car come to a stop than he springs to the door, pulls out a gun, and orders them both out of the car. “Queen Elizabeth,” he snarls, “hand over that snazzy diamond tiara you’re always wearing.”

“I’m terribly sorry, my good man,” says the queen, “but I’m afraid I don’t wear it on Sundays.”

“Aw, hell,” says the guy. “Well listen, Di, hand over that fancy engagement ring I keep seeing in all the pictures.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” says Lady Di sweetly, “but I’m afraid I didn’t put it on this morning. It must still be on my night table.”

“Aw, shit,” growls the guy. “I guess I’ll just grab the car.” So off he drives at the wheel of the Bentley, leaving the two women walking down the road in the direction of London. After a few minutes have passed, Lady Di asks the queen, “Pardon my curiosity, Your Highness, but I’m quite sure you had that tiara on this morning. Didn’t you?”

“Indeed I did,” confesses the queen, blushing slightly and pointing. “I hid it . . . down there. And you, Diana, weren’t you wearing your ring?”

Yes she had been, says Diana, turning beet red, and she had resorted to the same hiding place.

They walk a few more steps in companionable silence when Queen Elizabeth lets out a little sigh. “I do wish Princess Margaret had been with us,” she says. “We could have saved the Bentley.”