
You Spun that one well. Shear genius.I don't know wether ewe'r up to it, but I'm thinking I could separate the sheep from the goats in two shakes of a lamb's tail. But I'm abattoir sign off for the night. Anyway, I've herd how good ewe all are at the puns, so it would Briard to top you and I'm jest too tired.
(BTW, my Stinger's name is Lambie. Honest. My Grand Prix was Ewenice Lamb. Long story. And boring.)
Weiner !! babaaaaaI don't know wether ewe'r up to it, but I'm thinking I could separate the sheep from the goats in two shakes of a lamb's tail. But I'm abattoir sign off for the night. Anyway, I've herd how good ewe all are at the puns, so it would Briard to top you and I'm jest too tired.
(BTW, my Stinger's name is Lambie. Honest. My Grand Prix was Ewenice Lamb. Long story. And boring.)
That's debatable ,not trying to butt heads with you but don't turn into the black sheep here because you always raise the baa with your witty puns.im no Dag.
Mmh baa jumbuck you Knit you need a Clip round the short and curlies. You should be an expert your town still has the old wool stores, me knows ive done the tourist thing. Got to go feeling a little Crook.That's debatable ,not trying to butt heads with you but don't turn into the black sheep here because you always raise the baa with your witty puns.
Due to my shear force of will I try to keep pace with you for awhile until I hoof off.
Are ewe bleating about " crutching " now that's going below the beltClip round the short and curlies.


Yep i can Dip that low.Are ewe bleating about " crutching " now that's going below the belt
CLEVER PARAPROSDOKIANS (A paraprosdokian is a figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence is unexpected and oft times humorous.)
If I had a dollar for every girl who found me unattractive,
they'd eventually find me very attractive.
I find it ironic that the colors red, white, and blue
stand for freedom, until they're flashing behind you.
Today a man knocked on my door and asked for a
small donation towards the local swimming pool,
so I gave him a glass of water.
Artificial intelligence is
no match for natural stupidity.
I'm great at multi-tasking:
I can waste time, be unproductive,
and procrastinate all at once.
If you can smile when things go wrong,
you have someone in mind to blame.
Take my advice,
I'm not using it.
Hospitality is the art of making guests feel
like they're at home when you wish they were.
Behind every great man
is a woman rolling her eyes.
Ever stop to think
and forget to start again?
Women spend more time wondering
what men are thinking than men spend thinking.
He who laughs last
thinks slowest.
Is it wrong that only one company
makes the game Monopoly?
Women sometimes make fools of men,
but most guys are the do-it-yourself type.
Men say women should come with an instruction manual;
but since when has any man stopped to read the instructions.
I was going to give him a nasty look,
but he already had one.
Change is inevitable,
except from a vending machine.
I was going to wear my camouflage shirt today,
but I couldn't find it.
If at first you don't succeed,
skydiving is not for you.
WINNER , wheres the friggin button !! hahahahahahThis is an oldie, but some of you may never have seen it:
TFF !!!!A bit crass, but I still find it funny.
A guy is walking the strip in Las Vegas and a fantastic-looking
Vegas hooker catches his eye.
He strikes up a conversation and eventually asks the hooker,
"How much do you charge?"
The Hooker replies, "It starts at $500 for a hand-job."
The guy says, "$500 dollars! For a hand-job! Holy crap!
No hand-job is worth that kind of money!"
The hooker says, "Do you see that Denny's on the corner?"
"Yes."
"Do you see the Denny's about a block further down?"
"Yes."
"And beyond that, do you see that third Denny's?"
"Yes."
"Well," says the hooker, smiling invitingly, "I own those.
And I own them because I give a hand-job that's worth $500."
So the guy says, "What the hell? You only live once. I'll give it a try."
They retire to a nearby motel. A short time later, the guy is sitting o n
the bed realizing that he has just experienced the hand-job of a lifetime,
worth every bit of $500.
He is so amazed, he says, "I suppose a blow-job is $1,000?"
The hooker replies, "$1,500."
"I wouldn't pay that for a blow-job!"
The hooker replies, "Step over here to the window, big boy. Do you see
that casino just across the street? I own that casino outright. And I own
it because I give a blow-job that's worth every cent of $1,500."
The guy, basking in the afterglow of that terrific hand-job, decides t o
put off the new car for another year or so and says, "Sign me up."
Ten minutes later, he is sitting on the bed more amazed than before.
He can scarcely believe it but he feels he truly got his money's worth.
He decides to dip into the retirement savings for one glorious and
unforgettable experience.
He asks the hooker, "How much for some p*ssy?"
The hooker says, "Come over here to the window, I want to show you
something.
Do you see how the whole city of Las Vegas is laid out before us: All
those beautiful lights, gambling palaces, and shows?
"Damn!" the guy says, in awe, "You own the whole city?"
No," the hooker replies, "but I would... if I had a p*ssy"

A young monk arrives at the monastery. He is
assigned to helping the other monks in copying the old canons
and laws of the church, by hand.
He notices, however, that all of the monks are
copying from copies, not from the original manuscript.
So, the new monk goes to the Old Abbot to question
this, thus pointing out that if someone made even a small
error in the first copy, it would never be picked up!
In fact, that error would be continued in all of
the subsequent copies.
The head monk, says, "We have been copying
from the copies for centuries, but you make a
good point, my son."
He goes down into the dark caves
underneath the monastery where the original
manuscripts are held as archives,
in a locked vault that hasn't
been opened for hundreds of years.
Hours go by and nobody sees the old Abbot.
So, the young monk gets worried and goes down to look for him.
He sees him banging his head against the wall and wailing.
"We missed the
R
We missed the
R
We missed the bloody
R
His forehead is all bloody and bruised and he is crying uncontrollably.
The young monk asks the old Abbot, "What's wrong, father?"
With a choking voice, the old Abbot replies,
"The word was ....
CELEBRATE!"
