A man boarded a plane with 6 kids.
After they got settled in their seats, a woman sitting across the aisle from him leaned over to him and asked, “Are all of those kids yours?”
He replied, “No. I work for a condom company. These are customer complaints ”
Sorry Frenchrooster, I don’t get it.
Now I get it as well … not being a native English speaker does’t help
The guy thought the other one, with no equipment, was in apnea. But in fact he was drowning himself.
Google translate, was an error. Thanks!
It is a diver with his bottles who is contemplating the underwater fauna.
He is -15 metres away when he notices a guy next to him, in apnoea… No oxygen cylinders or anything from the traditional diver’s equipment.
The bottle diver then descends to -20 metres but is quickly joined by the freediver.
So, a little offended, the diver goes down to - 30 metres… but soon to see the apnea guy approaching him.
Annoyed, he grabs his caym and his small water-repellent writing board and writes:
And the other takes his chail and writes:
A variation on:
A woman wants to surprise her husband, who’s a big Brigitte Bardot fan, for his 60th birthday so goes to the tattoo parlour and asks for the initials to be tattooed on her butt cheeks.
When the day comes, while he’s lying in bed she starts to strip and then, when her panties have come off, turns around and bends over so he can see her surprise.
At which point her husband sits up and asks: “Bob?!? Who’s Bob?”
“If it is true that humour is the politeness of despair, if it is true that laughter, a blasphemous sacrilege that the bigots of all chapels accuse vulgarity and bad taste, if it is true that this laughter can sometimes desacralise stupidity, exorcise real sorrows and criticise mortal anxieties, then, yes, we can laugh at everything, we must laugh at everything. Of war, misery and death.”
Pierre Desproges, on how to circumvent the forum rules.
A Texas teacher was helping one of her kindergarten students put on his cowboy boots.
He had asked for help and she could see why. Even with her pulling and him pushing, the little boots still didn’t want to go on. By the time they got the second boot on, she had worked up a sweat.
She almost cried when the little boy said, “Teacher, they’re on the wrong feet.”
She looked, and sure enough, they were.
It wasn’t any easier pulling the boots off than it was putting them on. She managed to keep her cool as, together, they worked to get the boots back on, this time on the right feet. He then announced, “These aren’t my boots.”
She bit her tongue, rather than get right in his face and scream, “Why didn’t you say so?”, like she wanted to.
Once again she struggled to help him pull the ill-fitting boots off his little feet.
No sooner had they gotten the boots off when he said, “They’re my brother’s boots. My Mom made me wear ’em.”
Now she didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. But she mustered up what grace and courage she had left to wrestle the boots on his feet again.
Helping him into his coat, she asked, “Now, where are your mittens?”
He said, “I stuffed ’em in the toes of my boots.”
Slightly “left field” this, but I woke up one morning (cue blues riff), put on my socks and shoes..there was something not right about one of them…uncomfortable, didn’t seem to fit, etc. Took me a while but I discovered that one of the kittens had stuffed a toy fluffy mouse right down into the offending shoe.
