Clean Humor Thread

[RatDog]

Know Your Taters !

Some people never seem motivated to participate, but are just content to watch while others do the work.
They are called 'Spec Taters'.

Some people never do anything to help, but are gifted at finding fault with the way others do the work.
They are called 'Comment Taters'.

Some people are very bossy and like to tell others what to do, but don't want to soil their own hands.
They are called 'Dick Taters'.

Some people are always looking to cause problems by asking others to agree with them. It is too hot or too cold, too sour or too sweet. They are called, not Silly Billies but 'Aggie Taters'.

There are those who say they will help, but somehow just never get around to actually doing the promised help.
They are called 'Hezzie Taters'.

Some people can put up a front and pretend to be someone they are not.
They are called 'Immy Taters'.

Then there are those who love others and do what they say they will. They are always prepared to stop whatever they are doing and lend a helping hand. They bring real sunshine into the lives of others.
They are called 'Sweet Po Taters'.

[Anniemcc2]

If the Three Wise Men had been Three Wise Women, they would have
asked for directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby,
cleaned up and put down fresh straw, brought appropriate gifts,
and made a casserole.

[RatDog]

After an overnight flight to meet my father at his latest military assignment, my mother wearily arrived at Rhein-Main Air Base in
Germany with my eight siblings and me - all under age 11.

Collecting our many suitcases, the ten of us entered the cramped customs area.

A young customs official watched our entourage in disbelief,
"Ma'am," he said,"do all these children and this luggage belong to you?"

"Yes, sir," my mother said with a sigh. "They're all mine."

The customs agent began his interrogation: "Ma'am, do you have any
weapons, contraband or illegal drugs in your possession?"

"Sir," she calmly answered, "if I'd had any of those items, I would
have used them by now."

The official allowed us to pass without opening a single suitcase.

[Cocksparrer]

Clean humour ok il start looking for the cleaning products

[Anniemcc2]

CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN
By FRANK KELLY.

Day One.
Dear Nula. Thank you very much for your lovely present of a partidge in a
pear tree. We're getting the hang of feeding the partridge now, although it
was difficult at first to win its confidence. It bit the mother rather badly
on the hand, but they're good friends now and we're keeping the pear tree
indoors in a bucket.
Thank you again. Your affectionately, Gobnait O'Lunacy.

Day Two.
Dear Nula. I cannot tell you how surprised we were to hear from yourselves
so soon again and to receive your lovely present of two turtle doves. You
really are too kind. At first, the partridge was very jealous and suspicious
of the doves, and they had a terrible row on the night the doves arrived -
We had to send for the vet.... But, the birds are ok again and the stitches
is due to come out in a week or two. The vet's bill was eight pound, but the
mother is over her annoyance now and the doves and the partridge are
watching the telly from the pear tree as I write.
Yours ever, Gobnait.

Day Three.
Dear Nula,
We must be foremost in your thoughts... I had only just posted my letter
when the three french hens arrived. There was another sort-out between the
hens and the doves, who sided with the partridge and the vet had to be sent
for again. The mother was ragein' for the bill was sixteen pound this time,
but she has almost cooled down. However, the fact that the bird's droppings
keep falling down on her hair while she's watching the telly doesn't help
matters. Thanking you for your kindness. I remain, your Gobnait.

Day Four.
Dear Nula, you mustn't have received my last letter when you were sending us
the four calling birds - There was pandemonium in the pear tree again last
night and the vets bill was 32 pound. The mother is on sedation as I write.
I know you meant no harm and remain your close friend, Gobnait.

Day Five.
Nula, your generosity knows no bounds - Five gold rings- When the parcel
arrived I was scared stiff that it might be more birds because the smell in
the living room is atrocious. However, I don't want to seem ungrateful for
the beautiful rings.
Your affectionate friend, Gobnait.

Day Six.
Nula, what are you trying to do to us? It isn't that we don't appreciate
your generosity but the six geese have not alone nearly murdered the calling
birds but they lay their eggs on top of the vet's head from the pear tree
and his bill was 68 pound in cash. My mother is munching 60 grains of Valium
a day and talking to herself in a most alarming way. You must keep your
feelings for me in check. Gobnait.

Day Seven.
Nula, we are not amused by your little joke. Seven swans a-swimming is a
most romantic idea but not in the bath of a private house. We cannot use the
bathroom now because they have gone completely savage and rush the door
every time we try to enter. If things go on this way, the mother and I will
smell as bad as the living-room carpet. Please lay off, it is not
fair...Gobnait.

Day Eight.
Nula. Who the hell do you think gave you the right to send eight hefty
maids-a-milking here to eat us out of house and home? Their cattle is all
over the front lawn and has trampled the hell out of the mother's rose beds.
The swans invaded the living room in a sneak attack and the ensuing battle
between them and the calling birds, turtle doves, french hens and partridge
made the battle of the somme seem like ? wagon. The mother is on a bottle of
whiskey a day as well as the 60 grains o' vallium. I'm very annoyed wit' ya.
Gobnait.

Day Nine.
Listen, you louser - There's enought pandemonium in this place night and day
without nine drummers drumming While the eight flamin' maids-a-milking is
beatin' me poor old alchoholic mother out of her own kitchen and gobblin'
everything in sight. I'm warning you - you're makin' an enemy of me.
Gobnait.

Day Ten.
Listen, Manure face I hope you'll be haunted by the strains of the ten
pipers piping which you sent to torment us last night... They were aided in
their evil work by those maniac drummers and it wasn't a pleasant sight to
look out the window and see eight hefty maids-a-milking all going round to
the ensuing punk rock uproar. My mother has just finished her third bottle
of whiskey on top of 124 grains of valium. You'll get yours. Gobnait
O'Lunacy.

Day Eleven.
You have scandalised my mother, you dirty jezebel. It was bad enough to have
eight maids-a-milking dancing to punk music on the front lawn but they've
now been joined by your friends, the eleven lords-a-leaping and the antics
of the whole lot of them would leave the most decadent days of the Roman
empire looking like Outlook. I'll get you yet, ya 'auld bag

Day Twelve.
Listen, slurry head. You have ruined our lives - The twelve maidens dancing
turned up last night and beat the living daylights out of the eight
maids-a-milking 'cause they found them carryin' on with the eleven
lords-a-leaping. Meanwhile, the swans got out of the living room where
they'd been hiding since the big battle and savaged hell out of the lords
and all the maids. There were eight ambulances here last night and the local
civil defence as well. The mother is in a home for the bewildered and I'm
sitting here up to me neck in bird's droppings, empty whiskey and valium
bottles, bird's blood and feathers while the flamin' cows eats the leaves
off the pear tree. I'm a broken man

Gobnait O'Lunacy...

[RatDog]

It's one day after Christmas...I'm crabby and I'm broke.
I'm so full of ham and fruitcake, I think I'm gonna croak.

It's nice to see the relatives...I wonder when they'll leave.
They've been camping in my bathroom since early Christmas Eve.

They're eating everything in sight and sleeping in my bed.
I've been sacked out in the basement with my beagle, Fred.

The relatives have all gone out and left their screaming brats.
The toilet bowl is all plugged up and I can't find the cat.

I love the decorations, and the sleigh bells in the snow,
But I wish those pesky relatives would take their kids and go.

Those cookie crunchers fed the dog a twenty pound rib roast.
His feet are sticking in the air like skinny old fence posts.

Now they're in a free-for-all, the girls against the boys.
They're fighting over boxes 'cause they're bored with all their toys.

My mother-in-law is snoring in my favorite TV chair.
Those kids are stringing lights on her and tinseling her hair.

I oughta wake her up before the fireworks begin.
But I wanna see those blue sparks fly when they plug her in.

~~~Author unknown

[RatDog]

My cat sleeps about 20 hours a day. She has her food prepared
for her. She can eat whenever she wants, 24x7x365. Her meals
are provided at no cost to her. She visits the doctor once a
year for a check-up, and during the year whenever any medical
needs arise. For all this she pays nothing, and nothing is
required of her. She lives in a nice neighborhood in a house
that is much larger than she needs, but she is not required
to do any upkeep. If she makes a mess, someone else cleans it
up. She has her choice of luxurious places to sleep. She is
living like a queen, and has absolutely no expenses or
responsibilities whatsoever. All of her costs are picked
up by others who go out and earn a living every day.

I was just thinking about all this, and suddenly it hit me:
My cat is a Congressman!

[RatDog]

Doctor Khan was giving a lecture to a group of medical students at the city hospital.

Pointing to the x-ray, he explained: "As you can see, this patient limps because his right fibula and tibia are radically arched."

The doctor looked up at the assembled students, and asked Sidney "Now what would you do in a case like this?"

Sidney piped up: "I suppose I would limp too."

[RatDog]

The rules at a particular university were such that if the professor
were not present in the classroom by 15 minutes past the hour, the class
was considered a "walk" and the students were free to leave - with no
penalties for missing a class.

The rooms were equipped with the type wall clocks that
"jumped" ahead each minute, in a very noticeable fashion.
As it were, these clocks were also not of the most sophis- ticated
construction. Some enterprising student discovered that if one were to
hit the clock with chalkboard erasers, it would cause the clock to
"jump" ahead 1 minute.

It became almost daily practice for these students to take target
practice at the clock (as it would have it, this particular professor
was not the most punctual, and the students considered him severely
"absent-minded"). A few well aimed erasers, and lo, 15 minutes were
passed, and class dismissed itself.

Well, when the day for the next exam rolled around, the professor
strolled into the room, passed out the exams, and told them "You have 1
hour to complete".

The professor then proceeded to collect the erasers from
around the room, gleefully taking aim at the clock. When
he had successfully "jumped" the clock forward 1 hour, he closed the
class and collected the exam papers.

[HerMajesty]

HAHAHAHAhahahah!!