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Joke: The Smiths
Joke: The Smiths
Joke: The Smiths
The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the proxy pop was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife good-bye and said, "Well, I'm off now. The special man should be here soon."
Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale.
"Good morning, Ma'am," he said, "I've come to..."
"Oh, no need to explain," Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, "I've been expecting you."
"Have you really?" said the photographer. "Well, that's good. Did you know babies are my specialty?"
"Well that's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat." And after a moment she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"
"Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun. You can really spread out there."
"Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work out for Harry and me!"
"Well, Ma'am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results."
"My, that's a lot!" gasped Mrs. Smith.
"Ma'am , in my line of work a man has to take his time. I'd love to be in and out in five minutes, but I'm sure you'd be disappointed with that."
"Don't I know it," said Mrs. Smith quietly.
The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus," he said.
"Oh my God!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat.
"And these twins turned out exceptionally well - when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with."
"She was difficult?" asked Mrs. Smith.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look."
"Four and five deep?" said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement.
"Yes", the photographer replied. "And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling - I could hardly concentrate, and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had& nbsp;to pack it all in."
Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "Do you mean they actually chewed on your, um...equipment?"
"It's true, Ma'am, yes. Well, if you're ready, I'll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away."
"Oh yes, Ma'am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too heavy to be held in the hand very long."
With that, Mrs. Smith fainted.
Joke: What's Your Punishment?
Bob dies and goes to hell.
The devil calles him for a visit, in which he explains how things work: there is a selection of three punishments from which you have to choose one. The punishment change every thousand years.
In the first punishment room there is a young guy on the wall being whipped. Bob, who is not keen to spend a thousnad year like this, asks to see the next room. There he see a middle aged guy being tortured with fire.
Bob immediately asks to see the third room. It has a really old guy chained to the wall getting a blow job from a gorgeous blonde.
Bob jumps at the chance and takes the room.
The devil walks into the room taps the blonde on the shoulder and says "Okay, you can stop now. You've been relieved".
Goddess MineVenus beckons in lace bound fast
by chains of love wrapped tight
Her lush lips so tenderly pressed
to the earth's ancient grassy breast,
Goddess mine please hear my prayers
smile down on your slave of love
carry my spirit to that place you dwell
that altar between your silken thighs
her moans and sighs sweet music
calling me to her fervent worship
in that temple of secret delights
surrendering all I am to you freely
I sing for you an ancient primal hymn
soft muffled songs roll from my lips
shake the earth and rock your hips
take my offerings, mark me as yours
Press my face to that cup of sacred wine
and drink deep that sweet water of life
far beyond the realm of mortal desire
love's alchemy, carnal made the sublime
W. I. Boucher November 26, 2002
Poem Title: Behind Closed Doors
I love the way you look at me
from across a crowded room
I love the way you talk to me
when no-one else can hear
I love the way your hands wander
when no-one else can see
I love the way you hold me
whenever you are near
I love the way you kiss me
whenever we are alone
But most of all,
I love the way you make love to me
behind closed doors...
©2005 Renee Brumfield