No mate, had a really bad weekend, along with some news that I really didn't want to hear.Will tell you about it off post. Just to really pi55 me off, went out saturday night with my M8 and we had to abort a flying run on the M50 as his 355 started dropping cylinders like smarties Still, things can only get better. I'm banking on this as they sure as sh*t can't get much worse. Back to business, its the only thing keeping me cheerful at the moment! Physical Exam A beautiful, voluptuous woman goes to a gynecologist. The doctor takes one look at this woman and all his professionalism goes out the window. He immediately tells her to undress. After she has disrobed he begins to stroke her thigh. As he does this he says to the woman, "Do you know what I'm doing?" "Yes," she says, "you're checking for any abrasions or dermatological abnormalities." "That is correct," says the doctor. He then begins to fondle her breasts. "Do you know what I'm doing now?" he asks. "Yes," says the woman, "you're checking for any lumps or breast cancer." "That's right," replies the doctor. He then begins to have sexual intercourse with the woman. He says to her, "Do you know what I'm doing now?" "Yes," she says. "You're getting herpes, which is why I came here in the first place."
Two guys are in a bar discussing their sex lives. One guy says to the other, "How's your sex life buddy?" The other guy says, "Not too good. Every time me and my wife have sex, she loses interest half-way through. It's very frustrating." The first guy says, "Yeah, I know what you mean. I used to have the same problem, but I found a cure. I hid a starter pistol under the bed. When she started to run out of steam, I simply fired the starter pistol. It gave her such a fright that she got all excited, and couldn't get enough. I wish I'd done it years ago." The other guy says, "OK, I think I'll try that." The next day they are back in the bar again. The first guy says, "How did you get on with the starter pistol?" The other guy says, "Don't talk to me about starter pistols! Last night we were having a little 69. As usual, she lost interest half way through, so I fired the starter pistol, just like you said." The first guy says, "So what happened?" The other guy says, "She bit my cock, sh*t in my face, and a man came out of the closet with his hands up!"
The little boy asks his father - Steve, how was I born? Steve says: Ah, my son, I guess one day you will need to find out anyway! Well, you see your Mom and I first got together in a chat room on MSN. Then I set up a date via e-mail with your Mom and we met at cyber-cafe. We sneaked into a secluded room, where your mother agreed to a download from my hard drive. As soon as I was ready to upload, we discovered that neither one of us had used a firewall, and since it was too late to hit the delete button, nine months later a blessed little Popup appeared and said: "You've Got Male" Image Unavailable, Please Login Image Unavailable, Please Login Image Unavailable, Please Login Image Unavailable, Please Login
Steve appeared before St. Peter at the pearly gates. "Have you ever done anything of particular merit?" St. Peter asked. "Well, I can think of one thing," Steve offered. "Once, on a trip to the Black Hills out in South Dakota, I came upon a gang of high-testosterone bikers, who were threatening a young woman. I directed them to leave her alone, but they wouldn't listen. "So, I approached Bubba, the largest and most heavily tattooed biker, and smacked him on the head, kicked his bike over, ripped out his nose ring, and threw it on the ground. " I yelled, "Now, back off!! Or you'll answer to me!" St. Peter was impressed: "When did this happen?" "Just a couple minutes ago" Steve replied.
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An American passenger on the 'Titanic' stares in disbelief to his glass with whiskey. "I only asked for some ice" ..........
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An elderly Irishman lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite cheese scones wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs. With laboured breath, he leaned against the door frame,gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for here, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were dozens of his favourite cheese scones. Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted Irish wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man? Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in a rumpled posture. His parched lips parted, he could almost taste the cheese scone before it was in his mouth,seemingly bringing him back to life. The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to the nearest scone at the edge of the table, when his hand was suddenly smacked with a spatula byhis wife. . . . . . . . . . . . . "F*ck off !! "she said, "they're for the funeral !!"
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An older lady gets pulled over for speeding... >Older Woman: Is there a problem, Officer? >Officer: Ma'am, you were speeding. >Older Woman: Oh, I see. >Officer: Can I see your license please? >Older Woman: I'd give it to you but I don't have one. >Officer: Don't have one? >Older Woman: Lost it, 4 years ago for drunk driving. >Officer: I see...Can I see your vehicle registration papers please. >Older Woman: I can't do that. >Officer: Why not? >Older Woman: I stole this car. >Officer: Stole it? >Older Woman: Yes, and I killed and hacked up the owner. >Officer: You what? >Older Woman: His body parts are in plastic bags in the trunk if you >want to see The Officer looks at the woman and slowly backs away to his >car and calls for back up. Within minutes 5 police cars circle the car. >A senior officer slowly approaches the car, clasping his half drawn >gun. Officer 2: Ma'am, could you step out of your vehicle please! The >woman steps out of her vehicle. >Older woman: Is there a problem sir? >Officer 2: One of my officers told me that you have stolen this car and >murdered the owner. >Older Woman: Murdered the owner? >Officer 2: Yes, could you please open the trunk of your car, please. >The woman opens the trunk, revealing nothing but an empty trunk. >Officer 2: Is this your car, ma'am? >Older Woman: Yes, here are the registration papers. >The officer is quite stunned. >Officer 2: One of my officers claims that you do not have a driving license >The woman digs into her handbag and pulls out a clutch purse and hands it >to the officer. >The officer examines the license. He looks quite puzzled. Officer 2: >Thank you ma'am, one of my officers told me you didn't have a >license, that you stole this car, and that you murdered and hacked up the >owner. >Older Woman: Bet the liar told you I was speeding, too.
The US standard railroad gauge (distance between the rails) is 4 feet, 8.5 inches. That's an exceedingly odd number. Why was that gauge used? Because that's the way they built them in England, and English expatriates built the US Railroads. Why did the English build them like that? Because the first rail lines were built by the same people who built the pre-railroad tramways, and that's the gauge they used. Why did "they" use that gauge then? Because the people who built the tramways used the same jigs and tools that they usedfor building wagons, which used that wheel spacing. Okay! Why did the wagons have that particular odd wheel spacing? Well, if they tried to use any other spacing, the wagon wheels would break on some of the old, long distance roads in England, because that's the spacing of the wheel ruts. So who built those old rutted roads? Imperial Rome built the first long distance roads in Europe (and England) for their legions. The roads have been used ever since. And the ruts in the roads? Roman war chariots formed the initial ruts, which everyone else had to match for fear of destroying their wagon wheels. Since the chariots were made for Imperial Rome, they were all alike in the matter of wheel spacing.. The United States standard railroad gauge of 4 feet, 8.5 inches is derived from the original specifications for an Imperial Roman war chariot. And bureaucracies live forever. So the next time you are handed a specification and wonder what horse's ass came up with it, you may be exactly right, because the Imperial Roman army chariots were made just wide enough to accommodate the back ends of two war horses. Now the twist to the story When you see a Space Shuttle sitting on its launch pad, there are two big booster rockets attached to the sides of the main fuel tank. These are solid rocket boosters, or SRBs. The SRBs are made by Thiokol at their factory at Utah. The engineers who designed the SRBs would have preferred to make them a bit fatter, but the SRBs had to be shipped by train from the factory to the launch site. The railroad line from the factory happens to run through a tunnel in the mountains. The SRBs had to fit through that tunnel. The tunnel is slightly wider than the railroad track, and the railroad track, as you now know, is about as wide as two horses' behinds. So, a major Space Shuttle design feature of what is arguably the world's most advanced transportation system was determined over two thousand years ago by the width of a horse's azz. .... and you thought being a HORSE'S AZZ wasn't important!
Two hobbits walk into a bar where one of them picks up a barfly. They taker her to ta local motel; the first hobbit goes into the motel room while the other waits outside. Once the door closes, the hobbit on the outside hears starnge noises through the door, "I can't do it, I can't do it, I CAN'T DO IT!" In the morning, the second hobbit askes the first, "How did it go?" The first one answers. "It was embarrassing. I simply couldn''t do it." The second hobbit shook his head. "Manhood problems, eh?" "No. I couldnt get on the bed!"
My genitals are so gigantic, and yours so woefully inadequate, that evolution laughs at you and promises that your male offspring will also be cursed with your ridiculous nubbin -- thus dooming your DNA! My genitals are so sweetly intoxicating, I was able to convince Cornel West and Camille Paglia to violently disrobe and vigorously copulate with me in a Chablis-fueled, mind-bending threesome that made the seraphim in paradise blush with a mixture of shame and desire! My genitals are so leviathan that Ahab himself, if he were rendered a non-fictional creature, would surely stand upon his masts crows nest and lob mighty harpoons at me! If the teaming masses were to behold my juggernaut-like genitals, surely Marx's concept of the End of History would be nigh. My genitals are of such behemoth proportions, it is to the world of genitalia what Noam Chomsky is to the study of global activism! My genitals are so mammoth in size, that if inches were words, my member could fill every page of one of Ayn Rand's epic Objectivist tomes! A fine 1997 Chateau-La Cardonne Bordeaux would go well with my robust and flavorful genitals, even after the third helping! My genitals are so bursting with sexual magnetism, I could single-handedly seduce and defile the entire lesbian population of Sarah Lawrence University! My genitals bloat with such passionate force, that upon arousal, I barely have enough epidermis to purse my lips so that I may recite Shelley's immortal poem "Ozymandias"! If Philip Glass wrote an ambient opera in honor of my genitals, the title of the epic collection of random notes and sounds would be "Phantasmagoric Ode To Big Dong Number Five."! Hemingway''''s lost book about my genitals began thusly: "His organ was big." My virility is so profoundly cosmic, that in the event that every human male were to cease to be, my limitless supplies of genetically super-human semen could impregnate the remaining female population, thus siring a perfect race of confident, and impressively endowed men! Tired Freudian references aside - your mother played my mighty skin flute like a surf crowned sea nymph trying to rouse Poseidon from his watery slumber! Kurt Anderson secretly admires the cultural relevancy of my genitals, which have supplied artists and writers alike the inspiration needed to create great American works, and this admiration turned to sour envy when he ignored my zippered muse and wrote that appalling "Turn of the Century" that many have mistakenly referred to as a "novel"! So colossal are my genitals, that they compelled Stephen Hawking to theorize that my sexual gravity is such that a tablespoon of it would weigh more than an entire LA club full of amorous, cocaine-addled, Prada-clad Casanovas! My genitals are comparable to Harvard Universitys endowment - both are the largest of their kind, both are institutions that demand the respect of academics and undergraduate trollops, and both cannot be seen or used by anyone of low birth or intelligence, unless they work very hard to prove they are worthy.
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There was an American man that had an meeting in France. He met a woman and that night they had their own meeting. While they were having sex, she was yelling, "TROU FAUX,TROU FAUX." He did not know what that meant, but assumed it to be some sort of praise. The next day, he went to play golf with the men he had the meeting with. One of them made a hole in one. He yelled, "TROU FAUX,TROU FAUX !" They looked at him and said, "what do you mean wrong hole?"
