| One day, two girls from Georgia were sitting on their front porch swing. One of them had just gotten back from the big city of New York and was telling her friend all about it. She starts, "You know," with a heavy southern drawl, "they have women up there who have sex with other women." Her friend gasps, and replies, "Oh, do tell! What do they call them?" "They call them lesbians," the first girl tells her. "And they have men who have sex with other men." Her friend gasps once again, and says, "Oh, do tell! What do they call them?" The first girl says, "They call them homosexuals." The first girl looks around to make sure no one is looking and whispers to her friend, "And you know... They have these men... Who'll put their face in a woman's private parts... And kinda lick around and do stuff with their tongue..." The friend gasps once again and whispers back, "Oh, do tell... What do they call them??" After looking around once again to make sure no one is listening, she whispers back, "I don't know... I just patted mine on the head... and called him 'Precious'." |
| Four men went golfing one day. Three of them headed to the first tee and the fourth went into the clubhouse to take care of the bill. The three men started talking and bragging about their sons. The first man told the others, "My son is a home builder, and he is so successful that he gave a friend a new home for free." The second man said, "My son was a car salesman, and now he owns a multi-line dealership. He's so successful that he gave a friend a new Porsche, fully loaded." The third man, not wanting to be outdone, bragged, "My son is a stockbroker, and he's doing so well that he gave his friend an entire portfolio." The fourth man joined them on the tee after a few minutes of taking care of business. The first man mentioned, "We are just talking about our sons. How is yours doing?" The fourth man replied, "Well, my son is gay and he dances in a gay bar." The other three men grew silent as he continued. "I'm not totally thrilled about the dancing job, but he must be doing well. His last three boyfriends gave him a house, a brand new Porsche, and a stock portfolio." |
| The waitress was waiting as patiently as she could while the guy was dawdling over the breakfast menu. He says, being a smart Alec, "I usually never return to a restaurant unless one of the sausages I'm served with my eggs is a match in size for my own." The waitress replied, "In that case, sir, perhaps you should be looking at the children's menu." |
| Into a Belfast pub comes Raditz, looking like he'd just been run over by a train. His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is cut and bruised and he's walking with a limp. "What happened to you?" asks Sean, the bartender. "Jamie O'Conner and me had a fight," says Raditz. "That little twirp, O'Conner," says Sean, "He couldn't do that to you, he must have had something in his hand." "That he did," says Raditz, "a shovel is what he had, and a terrible lickin' he gave me with it." "Well," says Sean, "you should have defended yourself, didn't you have something in your hand?" "That I did," said Raditz... "Mrs. O'Conner's breast, and a thing of beauty it was, but useless in a fight." |