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Oneman's back with Rindercella, a cuckoo clock and a Be-Jesus. here's an Italian, a Frenchman and an Irishman sharing a table in a café. The Italian says, When I have ah-finished makin ah love with my girl-ah-friend, I go down and gently tickle the back of her kneesy. Santa Maria… She ah floatsa 6ee dee inches abova da bed in ecstasy…belissimo! The Frenchman replies, Zat is nozzing, when Ah 'ave uh finished making ze love with mon amour.. Ah kiss err all ze way down her body and zen Ah lick ze soles of her feet wiz mah tongue and she float 12 inchez above ze bed in pure ecstasy…Oo La la Allez! The Irishman says, Be jey-sus Dat's nottin'. When Oi've finished shaggin' me boird, I get out of da bed, walk over to d'window and wipe me fellar on hoir coirtain….to be sure. She hits the froikin' roof so she does!!! ________________________________ Why females should avoid a girls night after they are married: The other night I was invited out for a night with "the girls." I told My husband that I would be home by midnight, "I promise!" Well, the hours passed and the margaritas went down way too easy. Around 3 a.m., a bit loaded, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed 3 times. Quickly, realizing my husband would probably wake up, I cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution (even when totally smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with him. The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him "Midnight". He didn't seem pissed off at all. Whew! Got away with that one! Then he said, "We need a new cuckoo clock." When I asked him why, he said, "Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said, "Oh shit.", cuckooed 4 more times, cleared it's throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, And then tripped over the coffee table and farted." -------------------------------------- DYSLEXIC CINDERELLA This is the story of Rindercella and her sussly Gisters. Rindercella and her sussly Gisters lived in a marge lansion. Rindercella worked vehy rard, frubbing sloors, emptying poss pits and shiveling shot. At the end of the day she was nucking fackered. The sussly Gisters were right bubbly Gastards. One was called Mary Hinge and the other was called Mittle Linge. They were forrible huckers, they had fweaty seet and fweaty sannies. The sussly Gisters had tickets to go to the ball, but the cotten runts would not let Rindercella go. Suddenly there was a BUCKING FANG !and her Gairy Fodmother appeared whose name was Shairy Hithole, she was a lucking fesbian! She turned a pumpkin and six whice mite into a hucking cuge farriage and six dandy ronkeys with buge hollocks and dig bicks. The Gairy Fodmother told Rindercella she had to be back by midnight otherwise there would be a cucking falamity. At the ball Rindercela was dancing with the pansome rhince when suddenwee the clock struck twelve. "Muck fee” said Rindercella, she ran out tripping borse over allocks and dropped her slass glipper. The next day the pansome rhince knocked on Rindercella's door and the sussly Gisters let him in. Suddenly Mittle Linge lifted her leg and let off a fig bart. "Who fust jarted?" said the pansone rhince. "Blame that fugly hucker over there", said Mary Hinge, glaring at Mittle Linge. The pansome rhinge tried the glipper on both sussly Gisters without success, and their feet sucking ftunk! Holding his nose the Pransome prince said through bouts of coughing “tucking furn it in will you”. “Why do they call you the sussly Gisters anyways” he asked and they replied “are you bucking flind or something”? Betty Swallocks was ducking fisgusted and gave the Rhince a bick in the kollocks ( this was not difficult as he had a hucking buge fall bag ) He called over the other sister “Oi Rinder ucking gerr over ere”.He tried the glipper on Rindercella and it fitted puking ferfectly. Rindercella and the Rhince were married. The Rhince lived life in lucking fuxury,Rindercella lived hers with a fwollen sanny,sood ghoes and they both lived happily ever after….. The tend.  Whatever I do or say....I come in peace. |
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5/3/2008 8:18 am |
This is funny! hahahahah LOL Send more. Pleeeeze. Sure beats all the snotty posts people put up here lately!
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Eyes up for a full house..Hello Mary....you old pudding you.Thankyou's for the cheery welcome, lovely to see you again. Whatever I do or say....I come in peace.
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This is funny! hahahahah LOL Send more. Pleeeeze. Sure beats all the snotty posts people put up here lately!  Glad you enjoyed, and thanks for popping in to my blogg house. Well ive always said snotty is as snotty does....stop me if im getting too technical i can imagine what you mean though.Whatever I do or say....I come in peace.
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Well ive heard of Flying Officer Hoppy Hopkinson of squadron 633...ermmm i dont think he's coming back, ive also heard of Donald "hop to it" Hoppy of the infamous NY subway rebellion of the 60's, but he must be dead too by now...though if i was feeling malicious, id be tempted to think he had something to do with illicit drug taking knowing you fella... I'll keep my eye out for him though...  Whatever I do or say....I come in peace.
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Muck fee, yer back! How did it go with Helga?  I'm dyslexic. I scream Ho Dog instead of Oh God in the throes of passion.
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welcome back the most beautiful view is the one I share with you
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Tanks a million fer popping by...did yer come alone or by yerself to be shor to be shor... Whatever I do or say....I come in peace.
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Muck fee, yer back! How did it go with Helga?  Whatever I do or say....I come in peace.
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welcome back Whatever I do or say....I come in peace.
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Hi Kel, I'll try not to let you down.., nice to see you too. Whatever I do or say....I come in peace.
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I can imagine yours did...couldnt you have just bought a normal cuckoo clock like everyone else, instead of the Dragon terribly disguised to look like a cuckoo you came home with.. Whatever I do or say....I come in peace.
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