Short Free Jokes & Funny Pictures

A platoon commander says to the troops.
- Whoever calls the chief of staff a pig one more time will be assigned to his personal pigsty to pick up his dung.

God was tired and worn out. So he spoke to St. Peter.

“You know, I need a vacation. Got any suggestions where I should go?”

St. Peter, thinking, nodded his head, then said, “How about Jupiter? It’s nice and warm there this time of the year.”

God shook His head before saying, “No, too much gravity. You know how that hurts my back.”

“Hmmm,” St. Peter reflected. “Well, how about Mercury?”

“No way!” God muttered. “It’s way too hot for me there!”

“I’ve got it,” St. Peter said, his face lighting up. “How about going down to Earth for your vacation?”

Chuckling, God remarked, “Are you kidding? Two thousand years ago I went there, had an affair with some nice Jewish girl, and they’re STILL talking about it!”

Kudzu is green, my dog’s name is Blue
And I’m so lucky to have a sweet thang like you.

Yore hair is like cornsilk, a-flapping in the breeze.
Softer than Blue’s and without all them fleas.

You move like the bass, which excite me in May.
You ain’t got no scales, but I luv you anyway.

You’re as graceful as okry, jist a-dancin’ in the pan.
Yo’re as fragrant as SunDrop right out of the can.

You have all yore teeth, for which I am proud;
I hold my head high when we’re in a crowd.

On special occasions, when you shave yore armpits,
Well, I’m in hawg heaven, I’m plumb outta my wits.

And speakin’ of wits, you’ve got plenty fer shore.
‘Cuz you married me back in ’74.

Still them fellers at work they all want to know,
What I did to deserve such a purty, young doe.

Like a good roll of duct tape, yo’re there fer yore man,
To patch up life’s troubles and stick ‘em in the can.

Yo’re as strong as a four-wheeler racin’ through the mud,
Yet fragile as that sanger named Naomi Judd.

Yo’re as cute as a junebug a-buzzin’ overhead.
You ain’t mean like no far ant upon which I oft’ tread.

Cut from the best pattern like a flannel shirt of plaid,
You sparked up my life like a Rattletrap shad.

When you hold me real tight like a padded gunrack,
My life is complete; Ain’t nuttin’ I lack.

Yore complexion, it’s perfection, like the best vinyl sidin’.
Despite all the years, yore age, it keeps hidin’.

And when you get old like a ’57 Chevy,
Won’t put you on blocks and let grass grow up heavy.

Me ‘n’ you’s like a Moon Pie, with a RC cold drank,
We go together like a skunk goes with stank.

Some men, they buy chocolate for Valentine’s Day;
They git it at Wal-Mart; It’s romantic that way.

Some men git roses on that special day,
From the cooler at Kroger. “That’s impressive,” I say.

Some men buy fine diamonds from a flea market booth.
“Diamonds are forever,” they explain, suave and couth.

But for this man, honey, these will not do.
For you are too special, you sweet thang you.

I got you a gift, without taste nor odour,
Better than diamonds, it’s a new trollin’ motor.

At a remote monastery deep in the woods, the monks followed a rigid vow of silence. This vow could only be broken once a year on Christmas, by one monk, and the monk could speak only one sentence.

One Christmas, Brother Thomas had his turn to speak and said, “I love the delightful mashed potatoes we have every year with the Christmas roast!” Then he sat down. Silence ensued for 365 days.

The next Christmas, Brother Michael got his turn, and said, “I think the mashed potatoes are lumpy and I truly despise them!” Once again, silence ensued for 365 days.

The following Christmas, Brother Paul rose and said, “I am fed up with this constant bickering!”

A couple of rednecks are out in the woods hunting when one of them
suddenly grabs his chest and falls to the ground. He doesn’t seem to
be breathing and his eyes are rolled back in his head. The other guy
whips out his cell phone and calls 911.
He gasps to the operator, “I think Bubba is dead! What should I do?”

The operator, in a calm soothing voice says, “Just take it easy and
follow my instructions. First, let’s make sure he’s dead.”

There is a silence, and then a shot is heard.
The guy’s voice comes back on the line,

“Okay, he’s dead.”