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DMF joke thread
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Topic: DMF joke thread (Read 443456 times)
causeofkaos
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Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #405 on:
August 13, 2009, 11:46:10 AM »
His request approved, the Fox News photographer quickly used a cell phone to call the local airport to charter a flight. He was told a twin engine plane would be waiting for him at the airport.
Arriving at the airfield, he spotted the plane warming up outside a hanger. He jumped in with his bag, slammed the door shut, and shouted, 'Let's go.'
The pilot taxied out, swung the plane into the wind and took off. Once in the air, the photographer instructed the pilot, `Fly over the valley and make low passes so I can take pictures of the fires on the hillsides.'
'Why?' asked the pilot.
'Because I'm a photographer for Fox Cable News,' he responded. 'And I need to get some close up shots.'
The pilot was strangely silent for a moment......
Finally he stammered, 'So, what you're telling me is . . . You're NOT my Flight Instructor?'
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"F**K U IT HAPPENED"
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Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving in a pretty pristine body, but rather to come in sliding sideways all used up screaming F*CK YEAH WHAT A RDIE!!
Nitewaif
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m944,m750,Indiana
Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #406 on:
August 14, 2009, 12:14:19 AM »
Quote from: Ducaholic on June 24, 2009, 08:40:15 AM
Life as a child
Unknown child's name... but he was in Mississippi
Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little badass compound bow beginner kits. Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking arrows in anything that could get stuck by an arrow. Did you know that a 1955 40 horse Farmall tractor will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough sumbich.
That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was, I quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas tied around the end and was sending flaming arrows all over the place. Keep in mind this was 99.999% humidity swampland so there really wasn't any fire danger. Ill put it this way- a set of post hole diggers and a 3 ft... hole and you had yourself a well. One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard.
I looked over under the carport and see a shiny brand new can of starting fluid (ether). The light bulb went off. I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a disappointing manner...lets face it to a 10 yr. old mouth-breather like myself ether, really doesn't "sound" flammable. So, I went back into the house and got a 1 pound can of pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles).
At this point, I set the can of ether on the stump and opened up the can of black powder. My intentions were to sprinkle a little bit around the ether can but it all sorta dumped out on me. No biggie... 1 lb. pyrodex and 16 oz. ether should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker you know? You know what? Screw that I'm going back in the house for the other can. Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it too. Now we're cookin'.
I stepped back about 15 ft. and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim. As I released I heard a clunk as the arrow launched from my bow. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my dad getting out of the truck... OH SHIT he just got home from work. So help me God it took 10 minutes for that arrow to go from my bow to the can. My dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes. I turned back towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom. Right through the main pile of pyrodex and into the can. Oh. Shit.
When the shock wave hit it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or just reflex jerk back from 235 fricking decibels of sound. I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 ft. above the ground as far as I could see. It was like a little low to the ground layer of dust fog full of grasshoppers, spiders, and a crawfish or two. The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this...THE FRICKING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE. There was a big sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was". That danged tree got up and ran off.
So here I am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my thundercats T-Shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of the carport having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback: ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOUR BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DAMNIT CEASE FIRE!!!!! His hat has blown off and is 30 ft. behind him in the driveway. All windows on the north side of the house are blown out and there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 2000 ft over our backyard. There is a Honda 185s 3 wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped down and are now touching the tires.
I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know- I know I said something. I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either... not that it would really matter. I don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp pain, and then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out, woke later.... repeat this process for an hour or so and you get the idea. I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR so dad could beat me some more. Bring him back to life so dad can kill him again. Thanks Mom.
One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again Mom had been complaining about that thing for years and dad never did anything about it. I stepped up to the plate and handled business. Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. And I still have some sort of bone growth abnormality either from the blast or the beating. Or both. I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery.
It's good discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in life. (like blowin' stumps)
Author Unknown... but he was in Mississippi
Oh dear god, I laughed so hard that iced tea went up my nose - it still burns. This was very similar to my childhood - and yes, I grew up in Tennessee and Mississippi.
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metallimonster
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Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #407 on:
August 20, 2009, 05:31:45 AM »
Guts or Balls.
There is a medical distinction. We've all heard about people having guts
or balls, but do you really know the difference between them? In an
effort to keep you informed, the definitions are listed below:
GUTS - Is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being met
by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask: 'Are you still
cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?'
BALLS - Is coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of
perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the ass
and having the balls to say: 'You're next, Chubby.'
I hope this clears up any confusion on the definitions.
Medically speaking there is no difference in the outcome.
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Wherever I May Roam, Where I Lay My Head Is Home
02 620 Dark- High Mount CF Arrows
Gator
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Posts: 880
Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #408 on:
August 20, 2009, 06:11:11 AM »
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stopintime
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S2R 800 '07
Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #409 on:
August 20, 2009, 10:07:29 AM »
(I think this is really old, but I also think it's more and more relevant
From a strictly mathematical viewpoint it goes like this:
What Makes 100%? What does it mean to give MORE than 100%? Ever wonder about those people who say they are giving more than 100%? We have all been to those meetings where someone wants you to give over 100%. How about achieving 103%? What makes up 100% in life?
Here's a little mathematical formula that might help you answer these questions:
If:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z is represented as:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26.
Then:
H-A-R-D-W-O-R-K
8+1+18+4+23+15+18+11 = 98%
and
K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E
11+14+15+23+12+5+4+7+5 = 96%
But,
A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E
1+20+20+9+20+21+4+5 = 100%
And,
B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T
2+21+12+12+19+8+9+20 = 103%
AND, look how far ass kissing will take you.
A-S-S-K-I-S-S-I-N-G
1+19+19+11+9+19+19+9+14+7 = 118%
So, one can conclude with mathematical certainty that While Hard work and Knowledge will get you close, and Attitude will get you there, it's the Bullshit and Ass kissing that will put you over the top.
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237,000 km/sixteen years - loving it
Gator
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Posts: 880
Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #410 on:
August 26, 2009, 04:13:46 AM »
A guy is driving around Des Moines,Iowa and he sees a sign in front
of a house:
"Talking Dog ForSale." He rings the bell and the owner tells him the
dog is in the backyard. The guy goes into the backyard and sees
a Labrador sitting there.
"You talk?" he asks.
"Yes," the Lab replies.
"So, what's the story?"
The Lab looks up and says, "Well, I discovered that I could talk when
I was pretty young. I wanted to help the government, so I told my owner
about my gift, and in no time at all they had me jetting from country
to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no
one figured a dog would be eavesdropping. I was one of their most valuable
spies for eight years running."
"But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting
any younger so I decided to settle down. I signed up for a job at the
airport to do some undercover security wandering near suspicious
characters and listening in. I uncovered some incredible dealings and
was awarded a batch of medals. I got married, had a load of puppies, and
now I'm just retired."
The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants
for the dog.
"Ten dollars," the man says.
"Ten dollars? This dog is amazing. Why on earth are you selling him so
cheap?"
"Because he's a liar. He never did any of that sh*t."
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Monsterlover
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Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #411 on:
August 26, 2009, 04:34:07 AM »
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"The Vincent was like a bullet that went straight; the Ducati is like the magic bullet in Dallas that went sideways and hit JFK and the Governor of Texas at the same time."--HST **"A man who works with his hands is a laborer. A man who works with his hands and his brain is a craftsman. A man who works with his hands, brains, and heart is an artist." -Louis Nizer**
silvy1200
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no seas buey
Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #412 on:
August 26, 2009, 04:11:30 PM »
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Gator
Hero Member
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Posts: 880
Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #413 on:
August 27, 2009, 05:25:37 AM »
a fella gets so drunk every night at the bar that he always ends up puking down the front of his shirt.
one day his wife becomes fed up, 'next time you come home drunk with puke down your shirt- don't even bother knocking, you're not getting in!'
that night at the bar he gets so drunk that he pukes down his shirt. he starts to moan and his bar buddy asked him what was wrong.
'my wife said she would kick me out of the house if i came home with puke on my shirt!'
don't worry' said his buddy, ' what you do is... you put a $20 bill in your pocket, tell your wife the guy next to you puked on your shirt and put $20 in your pocket to pay for the shirt.'
' fella goes home, the wife starts to freak out and push him out the door... 'I TOLD YOU NOT TO EVEN...'
'no, no' sweety' the man says and tells her the story.
'she looks skeptical, but reaches in his pocket anyway. she pulls out two twenties.
'i thought you said the guy just gave you $20...'
'oh yeah' the man explains. 'i forgot to tell you... the guy shit in my pants too.'
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Goat_Herder
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Posts: 1775
Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #414 on:
August 27, 2009, 09:30:47 AM »
LOL
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ducpainter
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DILLIGAF
Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #415 on:
August 30, 2009, 02:05:56 PM »
How It All Began
In ancient Israel , it came to pass that a trader by the name of Abraham Com did take unto himself a young wife by the name of Dot. And Dot Com was a comely woman, broad of shoulder and long of leg. Indeed, she had been called Amazon Dot Com.
She said unto Abraham, her husband, "Why doth thou travel far from town to town with thy goods when thou can trade without ever leaving thy tent?" And Abraham did look at her as though
she were several saddle bags short of a camel load, but simply said, "How, Dear?" And Dot replied, "I will place drums in all the towns and drums in between to send messages saying what you have for sale and they will reply telling you which hath the best price. And the sale can be made on the drums and delivery made by Uriah's Pony Stable (UPS)."
Abraham thought long and decided he would let Dot have her way with the drums. The drums rang out and were an immediate success. Abraham sold all the goods he had at the top price, without ever moving from his tent. But this success did arouse envy. A man named Maccabia did secret himself inside
Abraham's drum and was accused of insider trading. And the young man did take to Dot Com's trading as doth the greedy horsefly take to camel dung. They were called Nomadic Ecclesiastical Rich Dominican Siderites, or NERDS for short. And lo, the land was so feverish with joy at the new riches and the deafening sound of drums, that no one noticed
that the real riches were going to the drum maker, one
Brother William of Gates, who bought up every drum company in the land. And indeed did insist on making drums that would work only with Brother Gates' drumheads and drumsticks.
Dot did say, "Oh, Abraham, what we have started is being taken over by others." And as Abraham looked out over the Bay of Ezekiel , or as it came to be known "Ebay" he said, "we need a name that reflects what we are," and Dot replied, "Young Ambitious Hebrew Owner Operators." "YAHOO", said
Abraham. And that is how it all began, It wasn't Al Gore after all.
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The DMFer formerly known as Ducaholic
Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #416 on:
August 30, 2009, 05:25:37 PM »
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Quote from: bobspapa on July 18, 2009, 03:40:31 PM
if I had a vagina...I'd never leave the house
DCXCV
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Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #417 on:
August 31, 2009, 06:05:56 AM »
Quote from: ducpainter on August 30, 2009, 02:05:56 PM
How It All Began
In ancient Israel , it came to pass that a trader by the name of Abraham Com did take unto himself a young wife by the name of Dot. And Dot Com was a comely woman, broad of shoulder and long of leg. Indeed, she had been called Amazon Dot Com.
She said unto Abraham, her husband, "Why doth thou travel far from town to town with thy goods when thou can trade without ever leaving thy tent?" And Abraham did look at her as though
she were several saddle bags short of a camel load, but simply said, "How, Dear?" And Dot replied, "I will place drums in all the towns and drums in between to send messages saying what you have for sale and they will reply telling you which hath the best price. And the sale can be made on the drums and delivery made by Uriah's Pony Stable (UPS)."
Abraham thought long and decided he would let Dot have her way with the drums. The drums rang out and were an immediate success. Abraham sold all the goods he had at the top price, without ever moving from his tent. But this success did arouse envy. A man named Maccabia did secret himself inside
Abraham's drum and was accused of insider trading. And the young man did take to Dot Com's trading as doth the greedy horsefly take to camel dung. They were called Nomadic Ecclesiastical Rich Dominican Siderites, or NERDS for short. And lo, the land was so feverish with joy at the new riches and the deafening sound of drums, that no one noticed
that the real riches were going to the drum maker, one
Brother William of Gates, who bought up every drum company in the land. And indeed did insist on making drums that would work only with Brother Gates' drumheads and drumsticks.
Dot did say, "Oh, Abraham, what we have started is being taken over by others." And as Abraham looked out over the Bay of Ezekiel , or as it came to be known "Ebay" he said, "we need a name that reflects what we are," and Dot replied, "Young Ambitious Hebrew Owner Operators." "YAHOO", said
Abraham. And that is how it all began, It wasn't Al Gore after all.
Ah, but was it not the young street musician Algore Rhythms who provided the very language of the drums?
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"I tend to ride faster when I can't see where I'm going. Everything works out better that way." -- Colin Edwards
erkishhorde
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Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #418 on:
September 07, 2009, 07:25:49 AM »
A businessman sends an email to his wife.
'My Dear Wife,
You will surely understand that I have certain needs that you with your 54 years can no longer supply. I am very happy with you and I value you as a good wife.
Therefore, after reading this email, I hope you will not wrongly interpret the fact that I will be spending the evening with my 18 year-old secretary at the Comfort Inn Hotel.
Please don't be perturbed. I shall be back home before midnight.'
When the man came home, he found the following letter on the dining room table.
'My Dear Husband,
I received your e-mail and thank you for your honesty. I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that you are ALSO 54 years old.
At the same time, I would like to inform you that while you read this, I will be at the Hotel Fiesta with Michael my tennis coach, who, like your secretary, is also 18 years old.
As a successful businessman with your excellent knowledge of mathematics, you will understand that we are in the same situation, although with one small difference:
18 goes into 54 a lot more times than 54 goes into 18.
Therefore, I will not be back before lunchtime tomorrow.'
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Monsterlover
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Re: DMF joke thread
«
Reply #419 on:
September 07, 2009, 07:31:53 AM »
Logged
"The Vincent was like a bullet that went straight; the Ducati is like the magic bullet in Dallas that went sideways and hit JFK and the Governor of Texas at the same time."--HST **"A man who works with his hands is a laborer. A man who works with his hands and his brain is a craftsman. A man who works with his hands, brains, and heart is an artist." -Louis Nizer**
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