Asking for a friend! Jeff is the best

Astronaut 2: In space, no one can. Here, use cream.

Half an hour later, a door-to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell with the hopes of making a sale. "Good morning madam. You don't know me but I've come to….." "Oh, there's no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Jones cut in. "You have?" the photographer asked. "Well, good! I've made a specialty of babies." "That's exactly what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat. Just where do we start?" asked a blushing Mrs. Jones. "You just leave everything to me," he replied. "Usually, I try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out." "Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for George and me," stated Mrs. Jones. "Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. However, if we try several different positions, and I shoot from five or six angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results." "I certainly hope we can get this over with quickly," gasped Mrs. Jones. "Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I would love to be in and out in five minutes, but you'd be disappointed with that, I'm sure." "Don't I know!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones. The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus in the downtown area," he proudly declared. "Oh my word!" Mrs. Jones exclaimed. "And these twins turned out exceptionally well, considering the fact that their mother was so difficult to work with," he said, handing Mrs. Jones the photograph. "She was difficult?" Mrs. Jones asked. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to Central Park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing and shoving to get a good look." "Four and five deep?" asked Mrs. Jones, her eyes the size of saucers. "Yes," said the photographer. "And for more than three hours too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling. It was very difficult for me to concentrate. Then darkness approached and I began to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just packed it all in." "You mean they actually chewed on your, umm, equipment?" Mrs. Jones asked. "That's right. Well madam, if you're ready, I'll set up my tripod so that we can get to work." "Tripod?" asked a very worried Mrs. Jones. "Oh yes, I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big for me to hold while I'm getting ready for action." "Madam, madam? Good Lord, she's fainted!"

So, he opens the box and picks up the letter. He glances at it briefly to make sure it is stamped, and then puts it in his bag with his other letters. When he gets back to his office, the letter goes in a big bin with all of the other out-going mail. He thinks nothing of it, and finishes his day. A few days later, he delivers the exact same letter to the same house that he picked it up from. He glances at the mailing address and observes that it is indeed the same as the return address. Anyone can make a mistake, so the mailman puts the letter in the mailbox so that the customer can readdress it for its proper recipient. He thinks nothing of it and finishes his day. The next day, the mailman sees the same mailbox with the flag up. He opens the box and again sees the same letter, nothing changed, but with a new stamp on it. The mailman is perplexed, and thinking to save the customer both time and money, decides to ring the doorbell and inquire about the letter. Ding-dong, ding-dong. Ding-dong, ding-dong. Ding-dong, Ding-dong. The door opens and standing there is a stout Buddhist monk, dressed in traditional garb. “Pardon me, sir,” the mailman says, “but you seem to be trying to mail this letter again, and without any changes to the address, it’s only going to end up back at your home in a few days.” “Ah, my letter. Thank you so much for mailing it the other day, it was greatly appreciated. Please do so again” replies the Buddhist monk. “But sir,” says mailman, “you will only waste a stamp, and this letter will be re-delivered to your home a few days from now.” “But that is my intention, dear man,” replies the Buddhist monk. “You see, reposting is the best way to get karma.”

One day, the police raided the brothel and took all the girls outside and made them line up. By chance, Lulu's grandma came by. Grandma asked, "Why are you standing in line here, dear?" Not willing to let her grandma know the truth, Lulu told her that the police were passing out free oranges and she was just lining up for some. "Why, that's awfully nice of them. I think I'll get some for myself," Grandma said, and she proceeded to the back of the line. A policeman was going down the line asking for information from all the prostitutes. When he got to grandma, he was bewildered and exclaimed, "Wow, still going at it at your age? How do you do it old girl?" Grandma replied, "Oh, it's easy, dear. I just take my dentures out, rip the skin back and suck 'em' dry." The policeman fainted.

…and orders everyone a round.

Though initially embarrassed and uneasy over sharing a room, they were both very tired and fell asleep quickly, he in the upper bunk and she in the lower. At 1:00 AM, the man leaned over and gently woke the woman saying, "Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you, but would you be willing to reach into the closet to get me a second blanket?  I'm awfully cold." "I have a better idea," she replied. "Just for tonight, let's pretend that we're married." "Wow! That's a great idea!" he exclaimed. "Good," she replied. "Get your own damn blanket!"  After a moment of silence, he farted.

an Australian, an Austrian, an Azerbaijani, a Bahamian, a Bahraini, a Bangladeshi, a Barbadian, a Barbudans, a Batswanan, a Belarusian, a Belgian, a Belizean, a Beninese, a Bhutanese, a Bolivian, a Bosnian, a Brazilian, a Brit, a Bruneian, a Bulgarian, a Burkinabe, a Burmese, a Burundian, a Cambodian, a Cameroonian, a Canadian, a Cape Verdean, a Central African, a Chadian, a Chilean, a Chinese, a Colombian, a Comoran, a Congolese, a Costa Rican, a Croatian, a Cuban, a Cypriot, a Czech, a Dane, a Djibouti, a Dominican, a Dutchman, an East Timorese, an Ecuadorean, an Egyptian, an Emirian, an Equatorial Guinean, an Eritrean, an Estonian, an Ethiopian, a Fijian, a Filipino, a Finn, a Frenchman, a Gabonese, a Gambian, a Georgian, a German, a Ghanaian, a Greek, a Grenadian, a Guatemalan, a Guinea-Bissauan, a Guinean, a Guyanese, a Haitian, a Herzegovinian, a Honduran, a Hungarian, an I-Kiribati, an Icelander, an Indian, an Indonesian, an Iranian, an Iraqi, an Irishman, an Israeli, an Italian, an Ivorian, a Jamaican, a Japanese, a Jordanian, a Kazakhstani, a Kenyan, a Kittian and Nevisian, a Kuwaiti, a Kyrgyz, a Laotian, a Latvian, a Lebanese, a Liberian, a Libyan, a Liechtensteiner, a Lithuanian, a Luxembourger, a Macedonian, a Malagasy, a Malawian, a Malaysian, a Maldivan, a Malian, a Maltese, a Marshallese, a Mauritanian, a Mauritian, a Mexican, a Micronesian, a Moldovan, a Monacan, a Mongolian, a Moroccan, a Mosotho, a Motswana, a Mozambican, a Namibian, a Nauruan, a Nepalese, a New Zealander, a Nicaraguan, a Nigerian, a Nigerien, a North Korean, a Northern Irishman, a Norwegian, an Omani, a Pakistani, a Palauan, a Palestinian, a Panamanian, a Papua New Guinean, a Paraguayan, a Peruvian, a Pole, a Portuguese, a Qatari, a Romanian, a Russian, a Rwandan, a Saint Lucian, a Salvadoran, a Samoan, a San Marinese, a Sao Tomean, a Saudi, a Scottish, a Senegalese, a Serbian, a Seychellois, a Sierra Leonean, a Singaporean, a Slovakian, a Slovenian, a Solomon Islander, a Somali, a South African, a South Korean, a Spaniard, a Sri Lankan, a Sudanese, a Surinamer, a Swazi, a Swede, a Swiss, a Syrian, a Tajik, a Tanzanian, a Togolese, a Tongan, a Trinidadian or Tobagonian, a Tunisian, a Turk, a Tuvaluan, a Ugandan, a Ukrainian, a Uruguayan, a Uzbekistani, a Venezuelan, a Vietnamese, a Welshman, a Yemenite, a Zambian and a Zimbabwean all go to a nightclub…. The doorman stops them and says sorry I can’t let you in without a Thai.

No text found

"Menu sir?" asked the owner. "I'm blind, just bring me one of your dirty forks, I will smell it and order." The confused owner went to the kitchen to retrieve a fork, and returned to the blind man. The blind man smelled the fork with a deep breath, "yes I will have the lamb with seasoned potatoes and spring vegetables." Unbelievable, thought the owner. The blind man ate and left. Two weeks later the blind man returned. The owner, wanting to know how good his smell is, quickly went to the kitchen where his wife Brenda was cooking and said, "do me a favour and rub this fork over your private parts" which she did. He then goes to the blind man and gives him the fork. The blind man takes it and puts it to his nose and says, "oh interesting! I never knew Brenda works here!"

He bent over, picked up the frog and put it in his pocket. The frog spoke up again and said, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a beautiful princess, I will stay with you for one week." The young man took the frog out of his pocket, smiled at it and returned it to the pocket. The frog then cried out, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a princess, I'll stay with you for one week and do ANYTHING you want." Again the young man took the frog out, smiled at it and put it back into his pocket. Next the frog yells, "Okay okay, If you kiss me and turn me back into a princess, I'll stay with you FOREVER and do ANYTHING you want." Again the young man took the frog out, then he chuckled at it and put it back in his pocket. Finally, the frog asked, "What is the matter? I've told you I'm a beautiful princess, that I'll stay with you forever, and do anything you want. Why won't you kiss me?" The young man said, "Look I'm an engineer. I don't have time for a girlfriend, but a talking frog is cool."

I slid my finger back out, and within seconds, she was going down on me. I thought to myself, "I really need a new fucking boat."

Cucumber, pickel and a penis meet at a bar. The cucumber says, man my life really sucks! Whenever I get big, fat and juciy, someones going to cut me up and put me in a salad! The pickel says, you think you have it bad, when I got big, fat and juicy, someone poured vinegar and spices on me and threw me in a jar! The penis glaired at both of them and said, you assholes think you have it bad? Whenever I get big fat and juicy someone puts a rubber trap over my head, sticks me in a dark room and bangs my head against the wall until I throw up and pass out!!

Aye Matey!

Some tourists in the Museum of Natural History are marveling at some dinosaur bones. One of them asks the guard, "Can you tell me how old the dinosaur bones are?" The guard replies, "They are 65,000,011 years old." "That's an awfully exact number," says the tourist. "How do you know their age so precisely?" The guard answers, "Well, the dinosaur bones were sixty five million years old when I started working here, and that was eleven years ago."

"Son, toss me that hatchet"

One lunchtime a duck walks into a pub and orders a pint of beer and an all day breakfast. The bartender looks at him and says, "Fucking hell! You're a duck." "I see your eyes are working," replies the duck. "And you can talk!" exclaims the bartender. "I see your ears are working, too," says the duck. "Now if you don't mind, can I have my beer and my fry up please?" "Certainly, sorry about that" says the bartender as he pours the duck a pint. "It's just we don't get many ducks in this pub. What are you doing around this way?" "I'm working on the building site across the road," explains the duck. "I'm a plasterer." The flabbergasted bartender cannot believe the duck and wants to learn more, but takes the hint when the duck pulls out a newspaper from his bag and proceeds to read it. So, the duck reads his paper, drinks his beer, eats his fry up, bids the barman good day and leaves. The same thing happens every lunchtime for two weeks. Then one day the circus comes to town. The ringmaster comes into the pub for a pint and the bartender says to him: "You're with the circus, aren't you? Well, I know this duck that could be just brilliant in your circus. He talks, drinks beer, eats fry ups, reads the newspaper and everything!" "Sounds marvelous," says the ringmaster, handing over his business card. "Get him to give me a call." So the next day when the duck comes into the pub the bartender says, "Hey Mr. Duck, I reckon I can line you up with a top job, paying really good money." "I'm always looking for the next job," says the duck. "Where is it?" "At the circus," says the bartender. "The circus?" repeats the duck. "That's right," replies the bartender. "The fucking circus?" the duck asks again. "With the big TENT?" "Yeah!" the bartender replies. "With all the animals who live in CAGES, and performers who live in CARAVANS?" says the duck. "Of course," the bartender replies. "And the tent has CANVAS sides and a big canvas roof with a fucking big hole in the middle?" says the duck. "That's right!" says the bartender. The duck shakes his head in amazement, and says: "Why the fuck would they want a plasterer?"

Apparently you're not allowed to nudge the nearest co-worker and say, "get a load of this guy" every time someone walks in.

Me: I don't know, he just ransomware.

If you want a trial version of a kid why don't you borrow your friend's and babysit it instead of letting your own expire?