Party Vibe

Jim and Edna were both patients in a mental hospital.

One day while they were walking past the hospital swimming pool
Jim suddenly jumped into the deep end. He sank to the bottom of the
pool
and stayed there.Edna promptly jumped in to save him. She swam to the
bottom and pulled Jim out.

When the director of nursing became aware of Edna’s heroic act,
she considered her to be mentally stable.
When she went to tell Edna the news she said, “Edna, I have good
news and bad news.”
“The good news is you’re being discharged; since you were able to
rationally respond to a crisis by jumping in and saving the life
of another patient, I have concluded that your act displays a
sound mind.”
“The bad news is that Jim, the patient you saved, hanged himself
in his bathroom with the belt to his robe right after you saved
him. I am sorry, but he’s dead.”

Edna replied, “He didn’t hang himself, I put him there to dry. How soon can I go home?”

This is a story about a couple who had been happily married for years. The only friction in their marriage was the husband’s habit of farting loudly every morning when he awoke. The noise would wake his wife and the smell would make her eyes water and make her gasp for air.

Every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping them off because it was making her sick. He told her he couldn’t stop it and that it was perfectly natural. She told him to see a doctor; she was concerned that one day he would blow his guts out.

The years when by and he continued to rip them out!

Then one Christmas morning as she was preparing the turkey for dinner and he was upstairs sound asleep, she looked at the bowl where she had put the turkey innards and neck, gizzard, liver and all the spare parts and a malicious thought came to her. She took the bowl and went upstairs where her husband was sound asleep and, gently pulling back the bed covers, she pulled back the elastic waistband of his underpants and emptied the bowl of turkey guts in. Some time later she heard her husband wake and let rip the usual trouser trumpet which was followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic footsteps as he ran into the bathroom. The wife could hardly control herself as she rolled on the floor laughing, tears in her eyes! After years of torture she reckoned she had got him back pretty good. About twenty minutes later, her husband came downstairs in his bloodstained underpants with a look of horror on his face. She bit her lip as she asked him what was the matter.

He said, “Hou were right. All these years you have warned me and I didn’t listen to you.”
“What do you mean?” asked his wife.
“Well, you always told me that one day I would end up farting my guts out, and today it finally happened. But by the grace of God, some Vaseline, and these two fingers, I think I got most of them back in.”

Jason came home from the pub late one Friday evening stinking drunk (as he often did) and crept into bed beside his wife who was already asleep.

He gave his wife a peck on the cheek and fell asleep.
When he awoke he found a strange man standing at the end of his bed wearing a long flowing white robe.
“Who the hell are you?” Demanded Jason, “and what are you doing in my bedroom?”.
The mysterious Man answered “This isn’t your bedroom and I’m St Peter”.
Jason was stunned “You mean I’m dead!!! That can’t be, I have so much to live for, I haven’t said goodbye to my family…. you’ve got to send me back straight away”.

St Peter replied “Yes you can be reincarnated but there is a catch. We can only send you back as a dog or a hen.” Jason was devastated, but knowing there was a farm not far from his house, he asked to be sent back as a hen. A flash of light later he was covered in feathers and clucking around pecking the ground.

“This ain’t so bad” he thought until he felt this strange feeling welling up inside him.
The farmyard rooster strolled over and said “So you’re the new hen, how are you enjoying your first day here?”
“It’s not so bad” replies Jason, “but I have this strange feeling inside like I’m about to explode”.
“You’re ovulating” explained the rooster, “don’t tell me you’ve never laid an egg before”.
“Never” replies Jason
“Well just relax and let it happen”
And so he did and after a few uncomfortable seconds later, an egg pops out from under his tail. An immense feeling of relief swept over him and his emotions got the better of him as he experienced motherhood for the first time. When he laid his second egg, the feeling of happiness was overwhelming and he knew that being reincarnated as a hen was the best thing that had ever happened to him… ever!!!

The joy kept coming and as he was just about to lay his third egg he felt an enormous SMACK on the back of his head and heard his wife shouting “Jason, wake up you drunken bastard, you’re shitting the bed”

Shamus and Murphy fancied a pint or two but didn’t have a lot of money between them, they could only raise the staggering sum of one Euro.

Murphy said “Hang on, I have an idea.” He went next door to the butcher’s shop and came out with one large sausage.

Shamus said “Are you crazy? Now we don’t have any money left at all!”

Murphy replied, “Don’t worry – just follow me.” He went into the pub where he immediately ordered two pints of Guinness and two glasses of Jamieson Whisky.

Shamus said “Now you’ve lost it. Do you know how much trouble we will be in? We haven’t got any money!!”

Murphy replied, with a smile. “Don’t worry, I have a plan, Cheers!”

They downed their Drinks. Murphy said, “OK, I’ll stick the sausage through my zipper and then you go on your knees and put it in your mouth.”

The bartender noticed them, went berserk, and threw them out. They continued this act pub after pub, getting more and more drunk, all for free. At the tenth pub Shamus said “Murphy – I don’t think I can do any more of this. I’m drunk and me knees are killin’ me!”

Murphy said, “How do you think I feel? I lost the sausage at the third pub!

Who’s there?

The SAS, the Parachute Regiment and the Police decide to go on a survival weekend together to see who comes out on top. After some basic exercises the trainer tells them that their next objective is to go down into the woods and catch a rabbit, returning with it ready to skin and cook.

Night falls.

First up – the SAS. They don infrared goggles, drop to the ground and crawl into the woods in formation. Absolute silence for 5 minutes, followed by the unmistakable muffled “phut-phut” of their trademark silenced “double-tap”. They emerge with a large rabbit shot cleanly between the eyes.

“Excellent!” remarks the trainer.

Next up – the Paras. They finish their cans of lager, smear themselves with camouflage cream, fix bayonets and charge down into the woods, screaming at the top of their lungs. For the next hour the woods ring with the sound of rifle and machine-gun fire, hand grenades, mortar bombs and blood curdling war cries. Eventually they emerge, carrying the charred remains of a rabbit.

“A bit messy, but you achieved the aim; well done”, says the trainer.

Lastly, in go the coppers, walking slowly, hands behind backs whistling Dixon of Dock Green. For the next few hours, the silence is only broken by the occasional crackle of a walkie-talkie “Sierra Lima Whisky Tango Fanta One, suspect headed straight for you…” etc. After what seems an eternity, they emerge escorting a squirrel in handcuffs.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” asks the incredulous trainer, “Take this squirrel back and get me a rabbit like I asked you five hours ago!”.

So back they go. Minutes pass. Minutes turn to hours. The next morning, the trainer and the other teams are awakened by the police, holding the handcuffed squirrel, now covered in bruises, one eye nearly shut.

“Are you taking the piss!!??” asks the now seriously irate trainer.

The police team leader nudges the squirrel, who squeaks:

“Alright, alright, I confess – I’m a rabbit!”