Thursday, October 4, 2012
Hurts Boot camp. Duluth, Minnesota. February. Six A.M. Six below zero. The Sergeant bellows "Outta those bunks! Birthday suit inspection! I want you to fall in outside, NOW! Buck nekkid! Stand close enough to make the man in front of you smile! MOVE, YOU FUCKERS!" The barracks quickly empty, the men fall in and shiver at attention. The Sergeant hollers "LOOSEN RANKS!" The ranks separate a bit. The Captain approaches, carrying a swagger stick. With the stick, he swats one of the men across the chest. "Did that hurt, Mister?" the Captain demands. "No, SIR!" the recruit shouts. "Why not?" barks the Captain. "Because I'm a U.S. Marine, SIR!" The Captain nods, and moves on down the front rank a bit. He whacks another man across the butt. "Did that hurt, Mister?" "No, SIR!" "Why not?" "Because I'm a U.S. Marine, SIR!" Satisfied, the Captain continues on down the rank. He notices that one of the men is sporting a huge erection, and brings his stick down sharply on the proffered target. "Did that hurt, Mister?" "No, SIR!" "Why not?" "Because it belongs to the fellow behind me, SIR!"
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Stuck in a strange city by bad weather, the drinker was bored. He sat in the bar and looking to strike up a conversation, turned to bartender and said, "Hey, about those Democrats in the Congress.." "Stop -- I *don't* permit talk about politics in my bar!" interrupted the bartender. A few minutes later the gent tried again, "People say about the Pope ... " "No religion talk, either," the bartender cut in. "Look, how about sex. Can I talk sex?" "Sure." "Then fuck you."