I challenge you to make me laugh.

William127

William127

Well-known member
And don't tell Mad Mullah Kahn but I'm literally burning diesel with the diesel heater to warm the cab up in this picture 😆 😂
 

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V8Druid

V8Druid

do it as well as you can,but learn to do it better
" A woman went to the emergency room, where she was seen by a young new doctor. After about 3 minutes in the examination room, the doctor told her she was pregnant.

She burst out of the room and ran down the corridor screaming.

An older doctor stopped her and asked what the problem was; after listening to her story, he calmed her down and sat her in another room.

Then the doctor marched down the hallway to the first doctor's room.

"Whats wrong with you?" he demanded. " This woman is 63 years old, she has two grown children and several grandchildren, and you told her she was pregnant?!!"

The new doctor continued to write on his clipboard and without looking up said:

"Does she still have the hiccups? " :ROFLMAO::ROFLMAO::ROFLMAO:
 
V8Druid

V8Druid

do it as well as you can,but learn to do it better
Yesterday, I was in the checkout line with a giant 50-pound bag of Purina dog chow for Necco, my 191-pound “Wonder Dog.”

The woman behind me looked at the bag, then at me, and asked, “Oh! Do you have a dog?”

(What did she think I had—an elephant?)

Since I’m retired and have way too much free time, I decided to have a little fun. I told her, dead serious, “No, I don’t have a dog. I’m going back on the Purina Diet.”

Her eyes widened, so I continued, “Last time I tried it, I lost 50 pounds before I landed in intensive care—tubes everywhere, IVs in both arms. But hey, it works! The diet’s simple: fill your pockets with Purina nuggets and eat a few whenever you feel hungry. Perfectly balanced nutrition.”

By now, everyone in line was listening like I was giving a TED Talk.

The poor woman gasped, “Oh my goodness! Did the dog food poison you?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I was sat in the road licking my balls and got hit by a car.”

The guy behind her nearly collapsed from laughing so hard.
 
V8Druid

V8Druid

do it as well as you can,but learn to do it better
In a nearly empty store at a Florida mall, two young businessmen leaned against a counter, taking a break. Their soon-to-open shop was still a work in progress—bare shelves, empty display racks, and the scent of fresh paint lingering in the air.

One of them smirked and nudged his buddy. “I bet any second now, some old-timer is gonna walk by, press his face against the window, and ask what we’re selling.”

They chuckled, feeling oh-so-clever.

Right on cue, as if the universe had a sense of humor, a senior gentleman strolled past, slowed down, and peered through the glass. He tapped on the window, squinting inside, then called out in a loud, clear voice, “What are y’all sellin’ here?”

The young men exchanged grins. Here was their chance for some fun.

With a cocky smirk, one of them shot back, “We’re selling ass-holes.”

Silence.

For a split second, the old man just stared at them. Then, without missing a beat, he shrugged and fired back:

"Well, business must be good—you’ve only got two left!"

Touché.

As the old man strolled away, leaving them speechless, the lesson became clear—never underestimate a senior citizen. They’ve seen it all, they’ve heard it all, and they’ve got comebacks sharper than a steak knife.
 
V8Druid

V8Druid

do it as well as you can,but learn to do it better
The other night, I was invited to hang out with the “girls,” and I told my husband I’d be home by midnight. “I promise!” I said. As the night went on, the hours passed quickly and the margaritas disappeared even faster. By around 3 a.m., a little tipsy, I headed home.

As soon as I walked in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hallway started ringing, and it cuckooed three times. I quickly realized that my husband might wake up and hear it, so I decided to quickly “help” by cuckooing 9 more times. I was pretty proud of myself for thinking of such a clever way to avoid trouble (even when a bit drunk). After all, 3 cuckoos plus 9 cuckoos equals 12—midnight, right?

The next morning, my husband asked me what time I came in, and I confidently told him, “Midnight.” He didn’t seem mad at all, which was a relief. But then he said, “We need a new cuckoo clock.”

I asked him why, and he said, “Well, last night, our clock cuckooed three times, then said ‘oh s**t,’ cuckooed four more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed three more times, giggled, cuckooed two more times, tripped over the coffee table, and then farted.”
 
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