The Joke thread - Some jokes may offend, read at own risk. Jokes only, no comments.

[xnavyman]

Sexual Positions

It has been studied and determined that the most often used Sexual position for married couples is the doggie position.
The husband sits up and begs,
And the wife rolls over and plays dead.

[xnavyman]

Uploaded with

[xnavyman]

G'day Mate,
I am writing to you because I need your help to get me bloody pilot's
licence back.
You keep telling me you got all the right contacts. Well now's your chance
to make something happen for me because, mate, I'm bloody desperate.
But first, I'd better tell you what happened during my last flight review
with the CAA Examiner.

On the phone, Ron (that's the CAA d*#"head), seemed a reasonable sort of a
bloke. He politely reminded me of the need to do a flight review every two
years. He even offered to drive out, have a look over my property and let me
operate from my own strip. Naturally I agreed to that.

Anyway, Ron turned up last Wednesday. First up, he said he was a bit
surprised to see the plane on a small strip outside my homestead, because
the "ALA"(Authorized Landing Area), is about a mile away. I explained that
because this strip was so close to the homestead, it was more convenient
than the "ALA," and despite the power lines crossing about midway down the
strip, it's really not a problem to land and take-off, because at the
halfway point down the strip you're usually still on the ground.

For some reason Ron, seemed nervous. So, although I had done the pre-flight
inspection only four days earlier, I decided to do it all over again.
Because the prick was watching me carefully, I walked around the plane three
times instead of my usual two.

My effort was rewarded because the colour finally returned to Ron's cheeks.
In fact, they went a bright red. In view of Ron's obviously better mood, I
told him I was going to combine the test flight with some farm work, as I
had to deliver three "poddy calves" from the home paddock to the main herd.
After a bit of a chase I finally caught the calves and threw them into the
back of the ol' Cessna 172. We climbed aboard but Ron, started getting onto
me about weight and balance calculations and all that crap. Of course I
knew that sort of thing was a waste of time because calves, like to move
around a bit particularly when they see themselves 500-feet off the ground!
So, it's bloody pointless trying to secure them as you know. However, I did
tell Ron that he shouldn't worry as I always keep the trim wheel set on
neutral to ensure we remain pretty stable at all stages throughout the
flight.

Anyway, I started the engine and cleverly minimized the warm-up time by
tramping hard on the brakes and gunning her to 2,500 RPM. I then discovered
that Ron has very acute hearing, even though he was wearing a bloody
headset. Through all that noise he detected a metallic rattle and demanded
I account for it. Actually it began about a month ago and was caused by a
screwdriver that fell down a hole in the floor and lodged in the fuel
selector mechanism. The selector can't be moved now, but it doesn't matter
because it's jammed on "All tanks," so I suppose that's Okay.

However, as Ron was obviously a nit-picker, I blamed the noise on vibration
from a stainless steel thermos flask which I keep in a beaut little possie
between the windshield and the magnetic compass. My explanation seemed to
relax Ron, because he slumped back in the seat and kept looking up at the
cockpit roof. I released the brakes to taxi out, but unfortunately the
plane gave a leap and spun to the right. "Hell" I thought," not the
starboard wheel chock again."

The bump jolted Ron back to full alertness. He looked around just in time to
see a rock thrown by the prop-wash disappear completely through the
windscreen of his brand new Commodore. "Now I'm really in trouble," I
thought...

While Ron was busy ranting about his car, I ignored his requirement that we
taxi to the "ALA," and instead took off under the power lines. Ron didn't
say a word, at least not until the engine started coughing right at the lift
off point, and then he bloody screamed > his head off. "Oh God! Oh God! Oh
God!"

"Now take it easy Ron," I told him firmly. "That often happens on take-off
and there is a good reason for it." I explained patiently that I usually run
the plane on standard MOGAS, but one day I accidentally put in a gallon or
two of kerosene. To compensate for the low octane of the kerosene, I
siphoned in a few gallons of super MOGAS and shook the wings up and down a
few times to mix it up. Since then, the engine has been coughing a bit but
in general it works just fine, if you know how to coax it properly.

Anyway, at this stage Ron seemed to lose all interest in my test flight. He
pulled out some rosary beads, closed his eyes and became lost in prayer. (I
didn't think anyone was a Catholic these days) I selected some nice music
on the HF radio to help him relax. Meanwhile, I climbed to my normal
cruising altitude of 10,500-feet. I don't normally put in a flight plan or
get the weather because, as you know getting FAX access out here is a
friggin' joke and the weather is always "8/8 blue" anyway. But since I had
that near miss with a Saab 340, I might have to change me thinking on that.

Anyhow, on levelling out, I noticed some wild camels heading into my
improved pasture. I hate bloody camels, and always carry a loaded 303,
clipped inside the door of the Cessna just in case I see any of the
bastards.

We were too high to hit them, but as a matter of principle, I decided to
have a go through the open window. Mate, when I pulled the bloody rifle
out, the effect on Ron, was friggin electric. As I fired the first shot his
neck lengthened by about six inches and his eyes bulged like a rabbit with
myxo. He really looked as if he had been jabbed with an electric cattle
prod on full power. In fact, Ron's reaction was so distracting that I lost
concentration for a second and the next shot went straight through the port
tyre. Ron was a bit upset about the shooting (probably one of those pinko
animal lovers I guess) so I decided not to tell him about our little problem
with the tyre.

Shortly afterwards I located the main herd and decided to do my fighter
pilot trick. Ron had gone back to praying when, in one smooth sequence, I
pulled on full flaps, cut the power and started a sideslip from 10,500-feet
down to 500-feet at 130, knots indicated (the last time I looked anyway) and
the little needle rushed up to the red area on me ASI. What a buzz, mate!
About half way through the descent I looked back in the cabin to see the
calves gracefully suspended in mid air and mooing like crazy. I was going to
comment to Ron on this unusual sight, but he looked a bit green and had
rolled himself into the foetal > position and was screaming' his 'freakin'
head off. Mate, talk about being in a bloody zoo. You should've been there,
it was so bloody funny!

At about 500-feet I levelled out, but for some reason we kept sinking. When
we reached 50-feet, I applied full power but nothing happened. No noise no
nothin'. Then, luckily, I heard me instructor's voice in me head saying
"carb heat, carb heat." So I pulled carb heat on and that helped quite a
lot, with the engine finally regaining full power. Whew, that was really
close, let me tell you!

Then mate, you'll never guess what happened next! As luck would have it, at
that height we flew into a massive dust cloud caused by the cattle and
suddenly went I.F. bloody R, mate. You would have been really proud of me as
I didn't panic once, not once, but I did make a mental note to consider an
instrument rating as soon as me gyro is repaired (something I've been
meaning to do for a while now). Suddenly Ron's elongated neck and bulging
eyes reappeared. His Mouth opened very wide, but no sound emerged. "Take it
easy," I told him, "we'll be out of this in a minute." Sure enough, about a
minute later we emerged, still straight and level and still at 50-feet.

Admittedly I was surprised to notice that we were upside down, and I kept
thinking to myself, "I hope Ron didn't notice that I had forgotten to set
the QNH when we were taxiing." This minor tribulation forced me to fly to a
nearby valley in which I had to do a half roll to get upright again.

By now the main herd had divided into two groups leaving a narrow strip
between them. "Ah!" I thought, "there's an omen. We'll land right there."
Knowing that the tyre problem demanded a slow approach, I flew a couple of
steep turns with full flap. Soon the stall warning horn was blaring so loud
in me ear that I cut it's circuit breaker to shut it up. but by then I knew
we were slow enough anyway. I turned steeply onto a 75-foot final and put
her down with a real thud. Strangely enough, I had always thought you could
only ground loop in a tail dragger but, as usual, I was proved wrong again!

Halfway through our third loop, Ron at last recovered his sense of humour.
Talk about laugh. I've never seen the likes of it. He couldn't stop. We
finally rolled to a halt and I released the calves, who bolted out of the
aircraft like there was no tomorrow.

I then began picking clumps of dry grass. Between gut wrenching fits of
laughter, Ron asked what I was doing. I explained that we had to stuff the
port tyre with grass so we could fly back to the homestead. It was then that
Ron, really lost the plot and started running away from the aircraft. Can
you believe it? I saw him running off into the distance, arms flailing in
the air and still shrieking with laughter. I later heard that he had been
confined to a psychiatric institution - poor bugger!

Anyhow mate, that's enough about Ron. The problem is I got this letter from
CASA withdrawing, as they put it, my privileges to fly; until I have
undergone a complete pilot training course again and undertaken another
flight proficiency test.

Now I admit that I made a mistake in taxiing over the wheel chock and not
setting the QNH using strip elevation, but I can't see what else I did that
was a so bloody bad that they have to withdraw me flamin' license. Can you?

Ralph H. Bell Mud Creek Station


--

[mango]

G'day Mate,
I am writing to you because I need your help to get me bloody pilot's
licence back.
You keep telling me you got all the right contacts. Well now's your chance
to make something happen for me because, mate, I'm bloody desperate.
But first, I'd better tell you what happened during my last flight review
with the CAA Examiner.

On the phone, Ron (that's the CAA d*#"head), seemed a reasonable sort of a
bloke. He politely reminded me of the need to do a flight review every two
years. He even offered to drive out, have a look over my property and let me
operate from my own strip. Naturally I agreed to that.

Anyway, Ron turned up last Wednesday. First up, he said he was a bit
surprised to see the plane on a small strip outside my homestead, because
the "ALA"(Authorized Landing Area), is about a mile away. I explained that
because this strip was so close to the homestead, it was more convenient
than the "ALA," and despite the power lines crossing about midway down the
strip, it's really not a problem to land and take-off, because at the
halfway point down the strip you're usually still on the ground.

For some reason Ron, seemed nervous. So, although I had done the pre-flight
inspection only four days earlier, I decided to do it all over again.
Because the prick was watching me carefully, I walked around the plane three
times instead of my usual two.

My effort was rewarded because the colour finally returned to Ron's cheeks.
In fact, they went a bright red. In view of Ron's obviously better mood, I
told him I was going to combine the test flight with some farm work, as I
had to deliver three "poddy calves" from the home paddock to the main herd.
After a bit of a chase I finally caught the calves and threw them into the
back of the ol' Cessna 172. We climbed aboard but Ron, started getting onto
me about weight and balance calculations and all that crap. Of course I
knew that sort of thing was a waste of time because calves, like to move
around a bit particularly when they see themselves 500-feet off the ground!
So, it's bloody pointless trying to secure them as you know. However, I did
tell Ron that he shouldn't worry as I always keep the trim wheel set on
neutral to ensure we remain pretty stable at all stages throughout the
flight.

Anyway, I started the engine and cleverly minimized the warm-up time by
tramping hard on the brakes and gunning her to 2,500 RPM. I then discovered
that Ron has very acute hearing, even though he was wearing a bloody
headset. Through all that noise he detected a metallic rattle and demanded
I account for it. Actually it began about a month ago and was caused by a
screwdriver that fell down a hole in the floor and lodged in the fuel
selector mechanism. The selector can't be moved now, but it doesn't matter
because it's jammed on "All tanks," so I suppose that's Okay.

However, as Ron was obviously a nit-picker, I blamed the noise on vibration
from a stainless steel thermos flask which I keep in a beaut little possie
between the windshield and the magnetic compass. My explanation seemed to
relax Ron, because he slumped back in the seat and kept looking up at the
cockpit roof. I released the brakes to taxi out, but unfortunately the
plane gave a leap and spun to the right. "Hell" I thought," not the
starboard wheel chock again."

The bump jolted Ron back to full alertness. He looked around just in time to
see a rock thrown by the prop-wash disappear completely through the
windscreen of his brand new Commodore. "Now I'm really in trouble," I
thought...

While Ron was busy ranting about his car, I ignored his requirement that we
taxi to the "ALA," and instead took off under the power lines. Ron didn't
say a word, at least not until the engine started coughing right at the lift
off point, and then he bloody screamed > his head off. "Oh God! Oh God! Oh
God!"

"Now take it easy Ron," I told him firmly. "That often happens on take-off
and there is a good reason for it." I explained patiently that I usually run
the plane on standard MOGAS, but one day I accidentally put in a gallon or
two of kerosene. To compensate for the low octane of the kerosene, I
siphoned in a few gallons of super MOGAS and shook the wings up and down a
few times to mix it up. Since then, the engine has been coughing a bit but
in general it works just fine, if you know how to coax it properly.

Anyway, at this stage Ron seemed to lose all interest in my test flight. He
pulled out some rosary beads, closed his eyes and became lost in prayer. (I
didn't think anyone was a Catholic these days) I selected some nice music
on the HF radio to help him relax. Meanwhile, I climbed to my normal
cruising altitude of 10,500-feet. I don't normally put in a flight plan or
get the weather because, as you know getting FAX access out here is a
friggin' joke and the weather is always "8/8 blue" anyway. But since I had
that near miss with a Saab 340, I might have to change me thinking on that.

Anyhow, on levelling out, I noticed some wild camels heading into my
improved pasture. I hate bloody camels, and always carry a loaded 303,
clipped inside the door of the Cessna just in case I see any of the
bastards.

We were too high to hit them, but as a matter of principle, I decided to
have a go through the open window. Mate, when I pulled the bloody rifle
out, the effect on Ron, was friggin electric. As I fired the first shot his
neck lengthened by about six inches and his eyes bulged like a rabbit with
myxo. He really looked as if he had been jabbed with an electric cattle
prod on full power. In fact, Ron's reaction was so distracting that I lost
concentration for a second and the next shot went straight through the port
tyre. Ron was a bit upset about the shooting (probably one of those pinko
animal lovers I guess) so I decided not to tell him about our little problem
with the tyre.

Shortly afterwards I located the main herd and decided to do my fighter
pilot trick. Ron had gone back to praying when, in one smooth sequence, I
pulled on full flaps, cut the power and started a sideslip from 10,500-feet
down to 500-feet at 130, knots indicated (the last time I looked anyway) and
the little needle rushed up to the red area on me ASI. What a buzz, mate!
About half way through the descent I looked back in the cabin to see the
calves gracefully suspended in mid air and mooing like crazy. I was going to
comment to Ron on this unusual sight, but he looked a bit green and had
rolled himself into the foetal > position and was screaming' his 'freakin'
head off. Mate, talk about being in a bloody zoo. You should've been there,
it was so bloody funny!

At about 500-feet I levelled out, but for some reason we kept sinking. When
we reached 50-feet, I applied full power but nothing happened. No noise no
nothin'. Then, luckily, I heard me instructor's voice in me head saying
"carb heat, carb heat." So I pulled carb heat on and that helped quite a
lot, with the engine finally regaining full power. Whew, that was really
close, let me tell you!

Then mate, you'll never guess what happened next! As luck would have it, at
that height we flew into a massive dust cloud caused by the cattle and
suddenly went I.F. bloody R, mate. You would have been really proud of me as
I didn't panic once, not once, but I did make a mental note to consider an
instrument rating as soon as me gyro is repaired (something I've been
meaning to do for a while now). Suddenly Ron's elongated neck and bulging
eyes reappeared. His Mouth opened very wide, but no sound emerged. "Take it
easy," I told him, "we'll be out of this in a minute." Sure enough, about a
minute later we emerged, still straight and level and still at 50-feet.

Admittedly I was surprised to notice that we were upside down, and I kept
thinking to myself, "I hope Ron didn't notice that I had forgotten to set
the QNH when we were taxiing." This minor tribulation forced me to fly to a
nearby valley in which I had to do a half roll to get upright again.

By now the main herd had divided into two groups leaving a narrow strip
between them. "Ah!" I thought, "there's an omen. We'll land right there."
Knowing that the tyre problem demanded a slow approach, I flew a couple of
steep turns with full flap. Soon the stall warning horn was blaring so loud
in me ear that I cut it's circuit breaker to shut it up. but by then I knew
we were slow enough anyway. I turned steeply onto a 75-foot final and put
her down with a real thud. Strangely enough, I had always thought you could
only ground loop in a tail dragger but, as usual, I was proved wrong again!

Halfway through our third loop, Ron at last recovered his sense of humour.
Talk about laugh. I've never seen the likes of it. He couldn't stop. We
finally rolled to a halt and I released the calves, who bolted out of the
aircraft like there was no tomorrow.

I then began picking clumps of dry grass. Between gut wrenching fits of
laughter, Ron asked what I was doing. I explained that we had to stuff the
port tyre with grass so we could fly back to the homestead. It was then that
Ron, really lost the plot and started running away from the aircraft. Can
you believe it? I saw him running off into the distance, arms flailing in
the air and still shrieking with laughter. I later heard that he had been
confined to a psychiatric institution - poor bugger!

Anyhow mate, that's enough about Ron. The problem is I got this letter from
CASA withdrawing, as they put it, my privileges to fly; until I have
undergone a complete pilot training course again and undertaken another
flight proficiency test.

Now I admit that I made a mistake in taxiing over the wheel chock and not
setting the QNH using strip elevation, but I can't see what else I did that
was a so bloody bad that they have to withdraw me flamin' license. Can you?

Ralph H. Bell Mud Creek Station


--

christ mate, reading that is like walking the kokoda track.

[xnavyman]

Sorry Mango, but that was the way it was sent to me. I found it very funny & hope you did also.

[mango]

Sorry Mango, but that was the way it was sent to me. I found it very funny & hope you did also.

i did find it funny, but also i thought how are you going to remember that to tell to your mates in the pub ?

its like the pics that are put up here, they had a thread called funny photos, now its gone, ohh well shit happens.

[Arbiter]

Hey Mango - If you can remember it to tell your mates then you aren't drinking enough.

[xnavyman]

Nipples, Without'em tits will be Pointless

[weirdo]

After having a nice 69 with his girlfriend Brian remembered he had an appointment @ the dentist. He was afraid the dentist would notice the smell of fanny on his breath so he brushed his teeth, used dental floss & a bottle of listerine. As he arrived @ the dentist he ate a packet of extra strong mints. His turn came up & the dentist told him 2 take a seat.
Feeling confident & relaxed, he opened his mouth wide. The dentist got close & said 'Did you have a 69 before you came here?' Brian says 'how did you know, does my breath smell like fanny?' The dentist said 'No you have a Skid Mark on your forehead....

[Godzilla]

Nipples, Without'em tits will be Pointless

Why do they call a woman's waist a waist?

God could have easily fitted another pair of breasts there.

[xnavyman]

What do you do with 5lbs of fat?

Put a nipple on it.

[Godzilla]

The elephant asked the camel: "Why do you have your breasts on your back?"

The camel clearly irritated by the outrage of modesty replies: "What a silly question from someone who has a dick on his face."




Two deaf people get married. During the first week of marriage, they find that they are unable to communicate in the bedroom when they turn off the lights because they can't see each other using sign language. After several nights of fumbling around and misunderstandings, the wife decides to find a solution.

"Honey," she signs, "Why don't we agree on some simple signals? For instance, at night, if you want to have sex with me, reach over and squeeze my left breast one time. If you don't want to have sex, reach over and squeeze my right breast one time."

The husband thinks this is a great idea and signs back to his wife, "Great idea. Now if you want to have sex with me, reach over and pull on my penis one time. If you don't want to have sex, reach over and pull on my penis 50 times."

[xnavyman]

These are actual comments made by South Carolina Troopers that were taken off their car videos:


1. "You know, stop lights don't come any redder than the one you just went through."

2. "Relax, the handcuffs are tight because they're new. They'll stretch after you wear them a while.."

3. "If you take your hands off the car, I'll make your birth certificate a worthless document." (My Favourite)

4. "If you run, you'll only go to jail tired."

5. "Can you run faster than 1200 feet per second? Because that's the speed of the bullet that'll be chasing you." (LOVE IT)

6. "You don't know how fast you were going? I guess that means I can write anything I want to on the ticket, huh?"

7. "Yes, sir, you can talk to the shift supervisor, but I don't think it will help. Oh, did I mention that I'm the shift supervisor?"

8. "Warning! You want a warning? OK, I'm warning you not to do that again or I'll give you another ticket."

9. "The answer to this last question will determine whether you are drunk or not. Was Mickey Mouse a cat or a dog?"

10. "Fair? You want me to be fair? Listen, fair is a place where you go to ride on rides, eat cotton candy and corn dogs and step in monkey poop."

11. "Yeah, we have a quota. Two more tickets and my wife gets a toaster oven."

12. "In God we trust; all others we run through NCIC." (National Crime Information Centre )

13. "Just how big were those 'two beers' you say you had?"

14. "No sir, we don't have quotas anymore. We used to, but now we're allowed to write as many tickets as we can."

15. "I'm glad to hear that the Chief (of Police) is a personal friend of yours. So you know someone who can post your bail."

AND THE WINNER IS....



16. "You didn't think we give pretty women tickets? You're right, we don't. Sign here.."

[Arbiter]

What are the little bumps surrounding a woman's nipple for?

It's braille for blind people and it says "Place penis between these".

[dylankellner]

Strap your sides in boys, here's two of the best:

How much do flat batteries cost?
Nothing, They're free of charge!

Why didn't the skeleton go to the dance?
Because he had noBODY to dance with!

BAAAAHAHA

[xnavyman]

A Scottish couple decided to go to Spain to thaw out during a particularly icy winter.
They planned to stay at the same hotel where they spent their honeymoon 20 years earlier.
Because of hectic schedules, it was difficult to coordinate their travel schedules.
So, the husband left Glasgow and flew to Barcelona on Thursday, with his wife flying down the following day.
The husband checked into the hotel.
There was a computer in his room, so he decided to send an email to his wife.
However, he accidentally left out one letter in her email address, and without realizing his error, sent the email.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Blackpool , a widow had just returned home from her husband's funeral.
He was a minister who died following a heart attack.
The widow decided to check her email expecting messages from relatives and friends. After reading the first message, she screamed and fainted.
The widow's son rushed into the room, found his mother on the floor, and saw the computer screen which read:

To: My Loving Wife
Subject: I've Arrived
Date: October 16, 2008
I know you're surprised to hear from me.
They have computers here now and you are allowed to send emails to your loved ones.
I've just arrived and have been checked in.
I see that everything has been prepared for your arrival tomorrow.
Looking forward to seeing you then!
Hope your journey is as uneventful as mine was.

P.S. F***ing hot down here!

[mborkp]

Found it funny so translated it for you guys. Here we go, all man's dream RC to control a woman


Cheers

[xnavyman]

Bruce and Sheila were spending the day at Taronga Zoo.

Sheila was wearing a loose fitting, pink dress, sleeveless with straps. He was wearing his usual jeans and VB singlet.

As they walked through the ape exhibit, they passed a large, silverback gorilla. Noticing the wife, the gorilla went crazy.

He jumped on the bars, and holding on with one hand and two feet he grunted and pounded his chest with his free hand.

He was obviously excited at Sheila in the pink dress. Bruce noticed the excitement,and thought this was funny.

Bruce suggested that his missus tease the poor fellow some more by puckering her lips and wiggling her bottom. She played along and the gorilla got even more excited, making noises that would wake the dead. Then Bruce suggested that she let one of her straps fall to show a little more skin. She did... and the gorilla was about to tear the bars down.

"Now..... show your thighs and fan your dress at him," he said. This drove the gorilla absolutely crazy and he started doing flips.

Then Bruce grabbed his missus, ripped open the door to the cage, flung her in with the gorilla and slammed the cage door shut. "Now. Tell him you have a headache!"
_________________

[xnavyman]

An elderly bloke was invited to an old mate's home for dinner one evening.
He was amazed by the way his mate preceded every request to his missus with endearing terms such as: Darling, Honey, My Love, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, etc..

The couple had been married almost 50 years and, clearly, they were still very much in love.

When the missus went back to the kitchen to get more beers for the blokes, the old bloke leaned over to his host, and said: "I think it's mucking afazing that, after all these years, you still call your missus those loving pet names."

The old bloke hung his head. "I have to tell you the truth," he said. "Her name slipped my mind about 10 years ago, -- and I'm scared to death to ask the old bitch what it is."

[xnavyman]

Little Johnny! (Bless the little bastard).

"Class, today's assignment is to spell and use the word 'DOUGH' in a sentence."

"Jane, you go first..."

"Dough, D O U G H... Italians make pizza with dough."

"Very good, Jane... now let's hear from Mary."

"Dough, D O U G H... My brother makes things with play dough."

"Yes, Johnny, do you have something constructive to add?"

"My mom says my dad doesn't make enough dough, and he's bloody hopeless in bed, so she uses a dill dough!"
_________________