Superman was feeling bored after a long break of crime fighting & wanted to go out & party so he called Batman to ask if he wanted to go to a club & pick up some girls.
Batman said Robin was ill & he had to look after him. A little disappointed, Superman called Spider-man to see if wanted to grab a couple of beers. Spiderman told him he had a date with Catwoman. As a last resort, Superman flew over to Wonderwoman’s apartment to see If she was free. As he landed on her balcony, he saw Wonder Woman naked on the bed with her legs open.
Superman thought to himself “I’m faster than a speeding bullet, I could be in there, have sex & out again before she knew what was happening.”
So Superman did his super thing in a split second & flies off happily. Meanwhile on the bed, Wonder woman said “Did you hear anything?”
“NO”! said the Invisible Man, “But my ass hurts like hell!”
Picking a Fight
A week after his wife left him, Jim went out to the local watering hole. After a long evening of drinking, Jim was thrown out of the bar as usual. On his way home he spotted a nun walking down the road. After looking at her twice he ran over and tackled her, then proceeded to beat the living daylights out of her. Some people passing by spotted this and called the police.
As the police were pulling him away in handcuffs he looked back and said, “I thought you’d be tougher than that, Batman.”
There is a big room with four corners.
In the first corner, you find Superman.
In the second corner you find Batman.
In the third corner you find Spiderman.
And in the fourth corner you find an extremely intelligent, 100% natural blonde woman with an amazing ultra-thin magazine-model figure.
In the center of the room there is a pot of gold.
Q:Who gets to the pot of gold first?
A: None, because none of these characters exist.
Three women — one engaged, one married and one a mistress — are chatting about their relationships and decided to amaze their men. All three buy black leather bras ” stiletto heels, and masks for their eyes.
After a few days, they meet over lunch to compare notes. The engaged women says: The other night when my boyfriend came over, he found me in the black leather bodice, tall stilettos, and a mask. He said, “you are the woman of my life. I love you”. Then we made love all night long.
The mistress says: I met my lover at his office and I was wearing the leather bodice, heels, mask over my eyes and a raincoat. When I opened the raincoat, he didn’t say a word — but we had wild sex all night.
The married woman says: I sent the kids to my mother’s house all excited about having alone time with my husband. Had the lights dim, candles going, I was wearing the leather bodice, black stockings, stilettos heels and a mask over my eyes. As soon as he came to the door and saw me and said,”What’s for dinner, BATMAN?
Poison Ivy & Harley Quinn
Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn decide have their mind set on robbing Gotham City Bank. “Now, remember the plan,” Poison Ivy tells Harley. “Yeah, yeah, no problem!” She says, and walks into the bank.
Ivy waits in the getaway car. Time passes by ten minutes…Ivy starts getting worried…fifteen minutes…Ivy thinks about driving away.
Suddenly Harley comes rushing out of the bank, dragging a safe behind her all tied up in rope. Behind her, the guard comes running out…with his pants down! Ivy groans. “Harley, you idiot! I said to tie up the guard and blow the safe! NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND!
Batman and Robin are camping in the desert, set up their tent and are asleep. Some hours later, Batman wakes his faithful friend. “Robin, look up at the sky and tell me what you see.” Robin replies, ” I see millions of stars.” “What does that tell you?” asks Batman. Robin ponders for a minute. “Astronomically speaking, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, it tells me that Saturn is in Leo. Chronologically, it appears to be approximately a quarter past three. Theologically, it’s evident the Lord is all-powerful and we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, it seems we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. What does it tell you, Batman?” “Robin, you idiot, someone has stolen our tent.”
Funny Weirdo Haircuts Drive Us Nuts!
The problem with young people today is that they have crazy haircuts.
In my day, a lad had two choices for a haircut – a crew cut or a flat top and both cost 50 cents. You went to the barber every Saturday morning with your old dad, had your ears raised and were grateful to look like every other kid on your block.
But these young people today. They all want to “express themselves” with their weirdo hairdos!
They walk around with their spiky bangs, corn rows, streaky uplifts, mohawks, faux hawks and wigged out sideburns. It’s a carnival freak show but without the popcorn.
If I had ever come home with a multi-colored mullet and a bum fluff goatee my old dad would have used me as a stump and split a cord of wood on my back.
It’s showy and disrespectful. Plumped and preening like a bunch of randy roosters let loose in a hen house. Disgraceful. I say they should round those damned young people up and sheer them down like the sheep they’re supposed to be.
It’s dangerous I tell you and it leads to anarchy and loose morals. It won’t be long before willy nilly hair styles aren’t enough for them anymore and they start frothing at the mouth, burning down post offices, practicing communism and forcing seniors to sport dreadlocks, rattails, moptops and worse.
And mark my god damned words, when that day comes we are all going to be well and truly sorry.
They have crazy haircuts. That’s the problem with young people today.
Oh God! Young People Need to Toughen the Hell Up
The problem with young people today is that they’re too damned soft.
In my day, young people were tough, damn it. We were gristly, sinewy and hard as nails. My generation was forged in a furnace of fiery parents, sweltering outhouses, creamed chip beef and the type of childhood diseases that either killed you or put some damned hair on your chest.
We had to be hard – conditions demanded it. There was no room for mollycoddling and teenaged slackassery. We couldn’t lie around in our underpants all day levelling up in Donkey Kong and text messaging our idiot friends. We were too busy rendering sheep fat, toting ice blocks and extracting our own teeth for that kind of foolishness. Our “down time” was getting dressed up in flour sack suits and attending the funerals of siblings who had died of dust pneumonia.
But these young people today? They’re marshmallows. And the similarity extends beyond their squishy plumpness and incredible lack of taste. Most have never done a lick of honest work and wouldn’t recognized a calloused palm if you clapped them across the ear with one.
They don’t understand what it means to sacrifice or to go without. For them, sacrifice is eating an unfrosted pop tart, fornicating with an unflavored condom or settling for less than an unlimited phone plan. Take away their cushy duvets, parental fawning and Junior Shopper credit cards and they wouldn’t last 5 damned minutes in the cold hard world.
And they’re emotionally soft too. Call a young person a worthless ninnyhammer and he’ll whinge, cry and fold up like a house of cards just to prove you right. Criticism’s considered some form of abuse instead of what it’s supposed to be – a practical assessment of your obvious limitations and some damned motivation to prove me wrong.
Face facts, this country is deep in the toilet and one flush away from becoming “Runningdoghai” the 23rd Province of the People’s Republic of China. If we ever want to return our nation to its former glory we need to stop raising a generation of spongy cry-babies and get back to work on hardening our resolve, our bodies and our minds.
They’re too damned soft. That’s the problem with young people today.
Sensible Careers – A Joke!
It’s high time we brought back good old fashioned jobs like costermongers, spittleman, wheeltappers, pettifoggers, pig jobbers, quarrel pickers and knock knobblers.
American Barbershop Idol
Surely to God we’ve exhausted this nation’s supply of caterwauling nancy boys and are ready to bring some damned decent singing back to the national stage. Four part harmonies plus straw boaters equals toe-tapping, good clean family fun.
And I don’t mean swearing. I mean putting pen to paper. They may be able to text 80 words a minute but ask them write a sentence longhand and it comes out looking like something a chimp would produce with a pointed stick and mitt full of mashed blackberries.
The Power of Positive Gumption
All this new age, positive-thinking hokum smacks me as being the worst kind of bumph since Clark Stanley sold his first bottle of snake oil elixir back in 1893.
Positive thinking as a means to an end is like the American Dream – it’s fine in theory but really only helpful to those with good genes, rich families and access to a decent education. For everyone else – it’s sleight of hand and empty platitudes.
For 2012, instead of folks assuming they can set their life right with little more than a combination of visualizations, affirmations and positive mental brainwaves, I’d like to see people attempting to set reasonable goals and then achieving them through a combination of hard work, determination and the power of positive gumption.
Enjoy your New Year’s Eve but keep the damned noise down. I’ll be in bed by 9:30.
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