A young boy and his grandfather were sitting outside enjoying the summer breeze.

The boys grandfather pulled out a cigar, lit it, and puffed away contently.

The boy looked at his grandfather and asked if he could take a puff.

The grandfather replied, “Can your dick touch your ass?” to which the boy responded, “No sir.”

“Then you are not old enough” the grandfather snapped back.

A few minutes later the grandfather pulled a beer out of his cooler, and took a sip.

The boy asked if he could try the beer.

The grandfather replied, “Can your dick touch your ass?” to which the boy responded, “No sir.”

Grandpa huffed. “Then you are not old enough.”

The boy gave up and ran inside the house to go play.

An hour later the boy came outside with a plate of cookies.

The grandfather asked the boy, “Can I have a cookie?”

The boy replied, “Can your dick touch your ass?”

Grandpa laughed. “Hell yeah my dick can touch my ass.”

The boy smirked. “Then go f*ck yourself, grandma made these cookies for me.”

“““““

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The Colombian maid asked for a pay increase.

The wife was very upset about this and decided to talk to her about the raise.

She asked, Now Maria, why do you want a pay increase?

Maria: Well, Señora, there are tree reasons why I wanna increaze.

The first is that I iron better than you.

Wife: Who said you iron better than me?

Maria: Jor huzban he say so.

Wife: Oh yeah?

Maria: The second reason eez that I am a better cook than you.

Wife: Nonsense, who said you were a better cook than me?

Maria: Jor hozban did

Wife increasingly agitated: Oh he did, did he?

Maria: The third reason is that I am better at sex than you in the bed.

Wife, really boiling now and through gritted teeth asks, And did my husband say that as well?

Maria: No Señora…. The gardener did.

Wife: So how much do you want?

——-

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A duck walks into a pub and orders a pint of beer and a ham sandwich. The barman looks at him and says, “Hang on! You’re a duck.”

“I see your eyes are working,” replies the duck.

“And you can talk!” exclaims the barman.

“I see your ears are working, too,” says the duck. “Now if you don’t mind, can I have my beer and my sandwich please?”

“Certainly, sorry about that,” says the barman as he pulls the duck’s pint. “It’s just we don’t get many ducks in this pub. What are you doing round this way?”

“I’m working on the building site across the road,” explains the duck. “I’m a plasterer.”

The flabbergasted barman cannot believe the duck and wants to learn more, but takes the hint when the duck pulls out a newspaper from his bag and proceeds to read it.

So, the duck reads his paper, drinks his beer, eats his sandwich, bids the barman good day and leaves.

The same thing happens for two weeks, then one day the circus comes to town.

The ringmaster comes into the pub for a pint and the barman says to him, “You’re with the circus, aren’t you? Well, I know this duck that could be just brilliant in your circus. He talks, drinks beer, eats sandwiches, reads the newspaper and everything!”

“Sounds marvelous,” says the ringmaster, handing over his business card. “Get him to give me a call.”

So the next day when the duck comes into the pub the barman says, “Hey Mr. Duck, I reckon I can line you up with a top job, paying really good money.”

“I’m always looking for the next job,” says the duck. “Where is it?”

“At the circus,” says the barman.

“The circus?” repeats the duck.

“That’s right,” replies the barman.

“The circus?” the duck asks again with the big tent?”

“Yeah,” the barman replies.

“With all the animals who live in cages, and performers who live in caravans?” says the duck.

“Of course,” the barman replies.

“And the tent has canvas sides and a big canvas roof with a hole in the middle?” persists the duck.

“That’s right!” says the barman.

The duck shakes his head in amazement, and says, “What on earth would they want with a plasterer??!”

“““““

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Some workers at the post office are sorting through the mail when they see a letter addressed to Jesus Christ. Baffled, they decide to open the letter, which reads as follows:

“Dear Jesus, I’m writing because I’m in a bind and I don’t know where else to turn. I’ve talked to all of my so-called friends and nobody will help me out. I need a hundred dollars to take care of some problems, and having exhausted all my other options I turn to You. I know You’ll help me in my time of need.”

The workers take this letter to their supervisor, and after reading it over, they all decide to help the man out. Everyone at the post office chips in, but after one week they only manage to collect $75. They decide to mail this money to the man anyways as if Jesus himself had sent it, figuring that $75 is better than nothing at all.

Some time later, a second letter arrives at the post office from the same individual, also addressed to Jesus Christ. The workers, excited to learn the result of their generous act, quickly open the letter:

“Dear Jesus, I want to thank you for the money You sent me. I just knew I could count on You. Forgive me for writing again, but I’ve gotten myself tangled up in another mess, and I need another hundred dollars. I only ask that if You find it in Your heart to help me out again, please don’t send me the money through the mail. Last time, I’m pretty sure those assholes at the post office opened Your letter and stole $25.”

“““““

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