PM’s, we still love y’all

And ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name. "So, you're a politician…" "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!" "Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says the politician. "Them's the rules" Says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy dissapears… And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds… Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be right? "Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite… And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But… Where's all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit mis-represented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is of course free, as is the room service, there's extra towels next to the hot-tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside…" Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbour!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift, walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cherrily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course are made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2 foot tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food-fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Ghandi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear… And they return to their penthouse suite, and spend the rest of the night making love like they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows, and falls into a deep and happy sleep… And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then" says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well… I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell" says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again. The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulphurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor-wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf-courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks and the sunshine???" "Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted…"

I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you.

My son was playing with his teenage mutant ninja turtle action figures, and was making them fight each other. Me: "Where are their weapons? Are they just fighting with their bare hands?" Son: "No, they are fighting with their turtle hands." Doesn't have a clue why I was laughing so hard.

4. Euphoria.

One day, Deadpool joined the Avengers. They traveled to a Hydra base surrounded by four barriers. When they got to the first barrier, Hulk smashed it. When they got to the second barrier, Tony Stark fired up his Iron Man suit and blasted a hole through it. When they got to the third barrier, Thor took out Mjolnir and bopped a hole in it. Then they got to the fourth wall, and Deadpool said, "Am I supposed to be the punchline to this joke?"

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!"

A few days ago I was talking to some friends, and friends of those friends, at a bar. I decided to break the ice with the new friends with a few jokes, most of which went down very well…until I decided to tell a few more offensive ones…and picked the worst possible one to start with. Here's the joke I told: "What do you do if you see an epileptic having a fit in the bath? Throw your washing (laundry if you're American) in." One of the new friends instantly became enraged and swung for me. When I asked him what the hell his problem was he replied that his younger brother was epileptic and died in the bath many years ago. Obviously I felt mortified as I didn't know about it, and said "I'm so sorry to hear that. Did he drown?" "No," replied the guy. "He choked on a sock."

I can tell just by looking at them

Because he is an absolute unit.

In 1969, in the months leading up to the Moon landing, the Apollo 11 astronauts trained in a remote moon-like desert in the western United States. One day as they were training, the astronauts came across an old Native American. ‘What are you doing here?’ the old man asked. ‘We are here as a part of a research expedition that will very soon travel to explore the Moon!’ ‘The Moon?! Hmm… could you then do me a favor?’ ‘What do you want?’ ‘Well, the people of my tribe believe that holy spirits live on the Moon. I was wondering if you could pass an important message to them from my people.’ ‘What’s the message?’ The man uttered something in his tribal language, and then asked the astronauts to repeat it again and again until they had memorized it correctly. ‘What does it mean?’ asked the astronauts. ‘Oh, I cannot tell you. It’s a secret that only our tribe and the moon spirits are allowed to know.’ The astronauts were intrigued with the secret message, so when they returned to their base they searched and searched until they finally found one Native American who could speak old man's tribal language and translate the message. When they repeated the message they had memorized, the translator started to laugh his ass off. ‘Why are you laughing man, what does the message say?’ 'It says – Don’t believe a single word these people are telling you. They have come to steal your lands.’

I would rather have two

He looks at his sasquatch. ​ I made this up at work. It's a dad-joke for sure. I googled it and found no record of it. ​ What do I win?

Rrrr

But apparently, I was too young…

The wife asked, "Now, Helen, why do you think you deserve a pay increase?" Helen: "There are three reasons. The first is that I iron better than you." Wife: "Who said that?" Helen: "Your husband." Wife: "Oh." Helen: "The second reason is that I am a better cook than you." Wife: "Who said that?" Helen: "Your husband." Wife: "Oh." Helen: "The third reason is that I am better at sex than you." Wife: "Did my husband say that as well?" Helen: "No, the gardener did." Wife: "So, how much do you want?"

Turn off the lights.

It was so emotional. Even the cake was in tiers.

Out of breath he asked, "Please, may I hide under your skirt. I'll explain later." The nun agreed… A moment later two Military Police ran up and asked, "Sister, have you seen a soldier?" The nun replied, "He went that way." After the MPs ran off, the soldier crawled out from under her skirt and said, "I can't thank you enough, sister. You see, I don't want to go to Syria." The nun said, "I understand completely." The soldier added, "I hope I'm not rude, but you have a great pair of legs!" The nun replied, "If you had looked a little higher, you would have seen a great pair of balls…. I don't want to go to Syria either."

Cut off its nose.

RIP Larry Tesler, the UI designer that created Cut, Copy and Paste, died age 74

The FBI had an open position for an assassin. After all the background checks, interviews and testing were completed, they had narrowed the field down to 3 possible agents. For the final test, the FBI agents took one of the men to a large metal door and handed him a gun. 'We must know that you will follow your instructions no matter what the circumstances.' Inside the room you will find your wife sitting in a chair… we need you to kill her' The man said, 'You can't be serious. I could never shoot my wife.' The agent said, 'Then you're not the right man for this job. Take your wife and go home.' The second man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and went into the room. All was quiet for about 5 minutes. The man came out with tears in his eyes, 'I tried, but I can't kill my wife.' The agent said, 'You don't have what it takes. Take your wife home.' Finally, the last man was given the same instructions, to kill his wife. He took the gun and went into the room. Shots were heard, one after another. They heard screaming, crashing, banging on the walls. After a few minutes, all was quiet. The door opened slowly and there stood the man, wiping the sweat from his brow. 'Some idiot loaded the gun with blanks' he said. 'I had to strangle that bitch to death'.

It just gives us some scents of perp puss.