Meology

For years, many of us have wondered just exactly who is Jack Shit? We find ourselves at a loss when someone says, "You don't know Jack Shit!" Well, thanks to the brilliant efforts of some very curious folks, you can now respond in an intellectual way. So here it goes and try to keep up....Jack Shit is the only son of Awe Shit, who married O Shit. In turn, Jack Shit married Noe Shit. The couple had 6 children: Holie Shit, Giva Shit, Fulla Shit, Bull Shit, and the twins Deep Shit and Dip Shit. Deep Shit married Dumb Shit, a high school dropout. After 15 years, Jack and Noe Shit got divorced and she married Ted Sherlock and became Noe Shit Sherlock. Meanwhile, Dip Shit married Lotta Shit and had a rather nervous disposition named Chicken Shit. Fulla Shit and Giva Shit married the Happens brothers in a double wedding. The newspaper invited everyone to the Shit-Happens wedding. Bull Shit traveled the world and returned home with an Italian bride. Pisa Shit. So from now on, no one can tell you that you don't know Jack Shit.!!

The Dragon Breath Chili is an article sent to me by a friend. I do not know who the original author of this one is, but kudos to him! If you have to pee, please go ahead and take the potty break before reading this! Otherwise, your pants or panties or boxers or things or underoos may become wet real soon, along with whatever piece of furniture you may be sitting on! This is just too damn funny!! Enjoy....

Dearly Beloved,
I went to Home Depot recently while not being altogether sure that the course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'you're definitely going to poop yourself' Dragon Breath chili. Tasty stuff, although hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your butt cheeks WILL fall off.

Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. Despite the chilies swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.

Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for Home Depot, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the deck. Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the store from the toilets that the pain hit me.

Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm referring to that 'Uh, Oh, poop, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The chilies from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the toilets which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The chilies fired a warning shot.

There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a toxic cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as a red aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any help. I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his reaction would be to the toxic non-visible fog that refused to dissipate... Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate. I could've warned that poor clerk, but didn't. I simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could do before gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh.........BIG mistake!!!!!

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun. Suddenly, things were no longer funny. 'It' was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the toilet, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand explosion took place.

Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my butt is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'.. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, 'Son-of-a-bitch!, did it smell that bad when you ate it?', then quickly left.

Once finished and I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.'

My smirking of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.

Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Lowe's.

 After being married for 44 years, I took a long careful look at my wife one day and said, "Honey, 44 years ago, we had a cheap apartment, a cheap car, slept on a sofa bed, and watched a 10-inch black and white tv. But the best part of it all was I got to sleep with a HOT 25 year old woman every night!" Ah, the memories, as I continued on."Now we have a one million dollar home, a $45,000 car, a nice big comfy king size bed, and this huge LCD HDTV with an awesome entertainment system, BUT, I'm sleeping with a 65 year old woman without much action. Seems to me, darling, that you just are not holding up to your end of the bargain here!"
 Now, I will be the first to admit, that my wife is a very reasonable woman. In response to my comment, she suggested that I go out and find me a nice hot 25 year old young lady and she would be more than happy to make sure that I once again would have a cheap apartment, drive a cheap car, sleep on a sofa bed, and watch a 10-inch black and white tv.
 Aren't older women so awesome!? They really do know how to solve your mid-life crisis, and in a very quick nicely manner too!          (~Contributed by one horny hopeful old American man~)

  A cop stops a man riding a Harley for traveling faster than the posted speed limit. The cops approaches the man and asks the biker his name.
"Fred," he replies.
"Fred what?" the officer asks.
"Just Fred," the man responds.

The officer is in a good mood and thinks he might just give the biker a break. so he begins to write him out a warning instead of a ticket. The officer then presses him for the last name.

The man tells him that he used to have a last name but lost it. The officer thinks that he has a nut case on his hands but plays along with it.

"Well Fred, so tell me, just how did you lose your last name?'

The biker replies, "It's a long story, so stay with me."

"I was born Fred Johnson. I studied hard and got good grades. When I got older, I realized that I wanted to be a doctor. I went through college, medical school, internship, residency, and finally got my degree, so I was Fred Johnson, MD. After a while I got bored being a doctor, so I decided to go back to school."

"Dentistry was my dream! Got all the way through school, got my degree, so then I was Fred Johnson, MD, DDS. Got bored doing dentistry, so I started fooling around with my assistant and she gave me VD, so now I was Fred Johnson, MD, DDS, with VD.Well, the ADA found out about the VD, so they took away my DDS. Then I was Fred Johnson, MD, with VD. Then the AMA found out about the ADA taking away my DDS because of the VD, so they took away my MD leaving me as Fred Johnson with VD. Then the VD took away my Johnson, so now I am just Fred."

The officer, trying not to laugh, tore up the warning ticket, told Fred to slow down and walked away laughing hysterically.

Just try reading this without laughing!!!
A Pocket Tazer Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Tazer for their anniversary submitted this story:

 Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized tazer. The effects of the tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing my wife adequate time to retreat to safety......WAY TOO COOL!
 Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right? There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and tazer in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would "shock and disorient your assailant." Longer bursts would do more. I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it stupid,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and...
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION .. WHAT THE ....?????!!!!!
I'm pretty sure Hulk Hogan ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position,
with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs? The cat was making meowing sounds I
had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.
(Note: If you ever feel compelled to ' mug ' yourself with a tazer, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.. A three second burst would be considered conservative?)
 A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling. Apparently I pooped on myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair.

P.S. My wife, can't stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!

And if you think education is difficult, try being stupid !!!

1. My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE.
"If you're going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning."

2. My mother taught me RELIGION.
"You better pray that will come out of the carpet."

3. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL.
"If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!"

4. My mother taught me LOGIC.
" Because I said so, that's why."

5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.
"If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me."

6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
"Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident."

7. My mother taught me IRONY.
"Keep crying, and I'll give you something to really cry about."

8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.
"Shut your mouth and eat your supper."

9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.
"Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!"

10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.
"You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone."

11. My mother taught me about WEATHER.
"This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it."

12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.
"If I told you once, I've told you a million times. Don't exaggerate!"

13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.
"I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."

14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION.
"Stop acting like your father!"

15. My mother taught me about ENVY.
"There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do."

16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.
"Just wait until we get home."

17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING.
"You are going to get it when you get home!"

18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.
"If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to get stuck that way."

19. My mother taught me ESP.
"Put your sweater on; don't you think I know when you are cold?"

20. My mother taught me HUMOR.
"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."

21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT.
"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up."

22. My mother taught me GENETICS.
"You're just like your father."

23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS.
"Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?"

24. My mother taught me WISDOM.
"When you get to be my age, you'll understand."

And my favorite:
25. My mother taught me about JUSTICE.
"One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you."

This is just too funny! Hopefully this was being recorded and was not live tv. I more than likely feel the same about his "neck of the woods" as he does mine!!!

Eleven people were being rescued from a flood by a helicopter, ten men and one woman. The pilot and rescuers underestimated the strength of the rope they were using to pull people out of the water. With all eleven people hanging onto the rope, it became apparent that it was too much weight for the rope to handle and so it was decided that at least one person would have to let go. They weren't able to choose that person, after all nobody wanted to let go. Then the woman suddenly started giving a very touching speech. She said that she would voluntarily let go of the rope, because, as a woman, she was used to giving up everything for her husband and kids or for men in general, and was used to always making sacrifices with little in return. She stated she had been the best wife she could be, allowing her husband nights out with boys, always having a great meal cooked when he gets home from work, providing as much sex and blowjobs as any man could ever want, being the best mother to her kids as possible, and that her work here on earth was done. As soon as she finished her speech, all the men started clapping ...... IDIOTS!

 The following is some advice from the more experienced on life from a very wise retired man. If you are a man, of any age, you should take this advice seriously.
 It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are oversensitive, and there's nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.

__________________________________________
This letter was written to a newspaper by a man named Ron:

 My name is Ron. Let me relate how I handled the retirement situation with my wife, Carol Anne. When I retired a few years ago, it became necessary for Carol Anne to get a full-time job, along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed. Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf club at about the same time she gets home from work.

Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club, so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door. She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner.

I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.

Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two, or even three days. That way, she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.

When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half-finished mowing the yard. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me, too.

I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Carol Anne. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile.

After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.

Signed,
Ron


QUICK EDITOR'S NOTE:
Ron died suddenly on January 31 of a perforated rectum. The police report says he was found with a Calloway extra-long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club jammed up his a$$, with barely 5 inches of grip showing, and a sledge hammer laying nearby.

His wife Carol Anne was arrested and charged with murder. The all-woman jury took only 10 minutes to find her Not Guilty, accepting her defense that Ron, somehow without looking, accidentally sat down on his golf club.
_________________________________________

Hope you all enjoyed this one! I did!

A man walked into the ladies department of a large department store and shyly walked up to the woman behind the counter and said, "I'd like to buy a bra for my wife."

"What type of bra?" asked the clerk.

"Type?" inquires the man, "There's more than one type?"

"Look around," said the sales lady, as she showed a sea of bras in every shape, size, color and material imaginable. "Actually, even with all of this variety, there are really only four types of bras to choose from."

Relieved, the man asked about the types.

The sales lady replied, "There are the Catholic, the Salvation Army, the Presbyterian, and the Baptist types. Which one would you prefer?"

Now totally bewildered, the man asked about the differences between them.

The sales lady responded, "It is all really quite simple... "

The Catholic type supports the masses.

The Salvation Army type lifts the fallen.

The Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and up right.

And....

The Baptist makes mountains out of mole hills.

(He chose the Baptist!)

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Have you ever wondered why A, B, C, D, DD, E, F, G, and H are the letters used to define bra sizes? Well, just in case you haven't yet figured out what the letters stand for, it is about time you became informed!


{A} Almost Boobs.

{B} Barely there.

{C} Can't Complain!

{D} Dang!

{DD} Double dang!

{E} Enormous!

{F} Fake.

{G} Get a Reduction.

{H}Somebody help me!! I've fallen and I can't get up !