Please make me smile!
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Never Bulla ****a you MaMa
Mrs. Ravioli comes to visit her son Anthony for dinner. He lives with a female roommate, Maria.
During the course of the meal, his mother couldn't help but notice how pretty Anthony's roommate is.
Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Anthony and his roommate than met the eye.
Reading his mom's thoughts, Anthony volunteered, "I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you, Maria and I are just roommates.''
About a week later, Maria came to Anthony saying, "Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find the silver sugar bowl. You don't suppose she took it, do you?"
"Well, I doubt it, but I'll email her, just to be sure." So he sat down and wrote an email:
Dear MaMa,
I'm not saying that you "did" take the sugar bowl from my house ; I'm not saying that you "did not" take it. But the fact remains that it has been missing ever since you were here for dinner.
Your Loving Son
Anthony
Several days later, Anthony received a response email from his MaMa which read:
Dear son,
I'm not saying that you "do" sleep with Maria, and I'm not saying that you "do not" sleep with her. But the fact remains that if she was sleeping in her OWN bed, she would have found the sugar bowl by now.
Your Loving MaMa
Moral:
Never Bulla ****a you MaMa0 -
A laugh for you...and a {hug}...
A married couple went to the hospital to have their baby delivered.
Upon their arrival, the doctor said that the hospital was testing an amazing
new high-tech machine that would transfer a portion of the mother's labour pain
to the baby's father. He asked if they were interested, both said they were very much in favour of it.
The doctor set the pain transfer to 10% for starters, explaining that even 10% was
probably more pain than the father had ever experienced before. But as the labour
progressed, the husband felt fine and asked the doctor to go ahead and kick it up a notch.
The doctor then adjusted the machine to 20% pain transfer.
The husband was still feeling fine. The doctor then checked the husband's blood
pressure and was amazed at how well he was doing.
At this point they decided to try for 50% . The husband continued to feel quite well.
Since the pain transfer was obviously helping the wife considerably, the husband
encouraged the doctor to transfer ALL the pain to him. The wife delivered a healthy
baby with virtually no pain, and the husband had experienced none. She and her
husband were ecstatic.
When they got home they found the postman dead on the porch.0 -
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One more from http://hahasforhoohas.com/the-fart-that-almost-altered-my-destiny/
Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it's the third date with the man of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that's "Silent But Deadly" for you prudes).
It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That's when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good. He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I'm not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn't want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a
15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms. We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn't allowed myself to eat in years. I didn't want to be "that girl" so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?
That's when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways - uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn't feeling well and probably needed to head home. On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn't having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks.
Then I realized ...
My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I'm in trouble. Big trouble. The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard. "Seriously, you need to hurry - I'm in a lot of pain." I managed to say through gritted teeth.
"Wow, it's that bad? What's wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?"
How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you're writhing in pain is because you have to fart?
Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.
People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out.
The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced it's way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I'm home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud.
Not in a, "am I smelling something?" sort of way. More like a "is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?" sort of way.
Suddenly, I panicked. "Roll down the windows!" I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).
"What? Why?" Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.
"I can't roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!"
"What's going on?" Rob yells back to me, "Why are you ..." then it hit him.
I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, "Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!" he screamed.
"Roll down the windows!" As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.
It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.
Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows.
We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.
We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way. He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, "Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!" and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.
I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.
Then I heard it. Rob's voice. Right. Outside. My. Bathroom. Door.
"Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?"
"Get away from the door!" I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist. "Ok, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*
"I'm fine, Rob - just leave the shoes there. I'll call you later okay?"
"Okay, are you sure you're ..."
"I'm fine! Get away from the door!"
This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin' hint!
Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I'd hear from him. I didn't think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours. But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we're married and he's laying on the couch while I type this ... "It was your rack that saved you," he just lovingly reminded me.
Well, thank you boobs. You saved us. You saved our destiny.
too funny!:laugh: :laugh: :laugh:0 -
Two strangers are sitting in an adjacent seats in airplane.
One guy says to the other, "Let's talk. I hear that the flight will go
faster if you strike up a conversation with your fellow passenger."
The other guy, who had just opened a good book, closes it slowly, takes off
his glasses and asks, "What would you like to discuss?"
The first guy says, "Oh, I don't know - How about Nuclear Power?"
The other guy says, "OK, that could make for some pretty interesting
conversation. But let me ask you a question first:
A horse, a cow and a deer all eat the same stuff.
But the deer excretes pellets; the cow - big patties; and the horse - clumps
of dried grass.
Why is that?"
The first guy says, "I don't know."
The other guy says, "Oh? Well then, do you really think you're qualified to
discuss Nuclear Power when you don't know ****?"0 -
what an awesome story...thx for sharingOne more from http://hahasforhoohas.com/the-fart-that-almost-altered-my-destiny/
Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it's the third date with the man of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that's "Silent But Deadly" for you prudes).
It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That's when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good. He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I'm not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn't want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a
15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms. We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn't allowed myself to eat in years. I didn't want to be "that girl" so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?
That's when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways - uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn't feeling well and probably needed to head home. On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn't having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks.
Then I realized ...
My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I'm in trouble. Big trouble. The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard. "Seriously, you need to hurry - I'm in a lot of pain." I managed to say through gritted teeth.
"Wow, it's that bad? What's wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?"
How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you're writhing in pain is because you have to fart?
Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.
People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out.
The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced it's way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I'm home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud.
Not in a, "am I smelling something?" sort of way. More like a "is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?" sort of way.
Suddenly, I panicked. "Roll down the windows!" I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).
"What? Why?" Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.
"I can't roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!"
"What's going on?" Rob yells back to me, "Why are you ..." then it hit him.
I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, "Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!" he screamed.
"Roll down the windows!" As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.
It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.
Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows.
We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.
We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way. He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, "Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!" and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.
I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.
Then I heard it. Rob's voice. Right. Outside. My. Bathroom. Door.
"Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?"
"Get away from the door!" I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist. "Ok, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*
"I'm fine, Rob - just leave the shoes there. I'll call you later okay?"
"Okay, are you sure you're ..."
"I'm fine! Get away from the door!"
This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin' hint!
Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I'd hear from him. I didn't think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours. But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we're married and he's laying on the couch while I type this ... "It was your rack that saved you," he just lovingly reminded me.
Well, thank you boobs. You saved us. You saved our destiny.
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Lauramac426 - I have NEVER EVER EVER EVER laughed that hard! Both of your posts had me laughing until I cried. The second one about your first date had tears streaming and holding my belly. My husband came to check on me because he thought I was crying as I was laughing so hard!!!!!!
Oh, I HAVE to share those if you don't mind. :drinker:0 -
OMG...I laughed so hard I cried!!! I needed this tonight, thanks!!!:laugh: :laugh: :laugh: :laugh:0
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To the lady in Wal-Mart with 6 screaming kids... If you are wondering about the extra large box of condoms you found in your shopping cart... you are welcome.0
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My six children and I would have fun using those condoms for a water balloon fight. True story.To the lady in Wal-Mart with 6 screaming kids... If you are wondering about the extra large box of condoms you found in your shopping cart... you are welcome.
(And we are currently expecting #7. :bigsmile: )0 -
OMFG I literally rofled... that's ****ing hilarious!! I needed a laugh tonight as well!!!
Anyway, OP... my daughter, (almost 4 years old) decided today it would be a great idea to swallow a penny. I have been getting much amusement from telling her she's gonna poop it out soon! She doesn't believe me! It's hilarious. Took her to the ER today even, to make sure it wasn't lodged anywhere, the X-ray pic = PRICELESS!0 -
My six children and I would have fun using those condoms for a water balloon fight. True story.To the lady in Wal-Mart with 6 screaming kids... If you are wondering about the extra large box of condoms you found in your shopping cart... you are welcome.
(And we are currently expecting #7. :bigsmile: )
<<DOH!>>
Congrats to you! (and I do mean that with all respect.)0 -
WHY ARE PIRATES CALLED PIRATES???
BECAUSE THEY ARRRRRRR!!
Pathetic I know, but I found that it was so pathetic it was laughable material x 0 -
Thank you! And you did make me laugh. :laugh:
My six children and I would have fun using those condoms for a water balloon fight. True story.To the lady in Wal-Mart with 6 screaming kids... If you are wondering about the extra large box of condoms you found in your shopping cart... you are welcome.
(And we are currently expecting #7. :bigsmile: )
<<DOH!>>
Congrats to you! (and I do mean that with all respect.)0 -
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