A grandpa and grandson go fishing and, on the way, they stop by a store to pick up various supplies and a couple scratch cards.

While out in the boat the grandpa takes a beer he bought out of the ice chest and opens it. Just as the top popped, the grandson asked grandpa if he could have one.

The grandpa says, "Let me ask you something, can you touch the head of your penis to your asshole?"

The grandson says, "no".

"Well then you aren�t quite old enough to have one of these, have this coke I bought."

The grandpa then takes out a cigar and lights it. The grandson says once again, "Grandpa, can I have one of those?"

The grandpa also says once again, "Can you touch the head of your penis to your asshole?"

Once again, the grandson says, "no" with a sad look on his face.

Grandpa says, "Well then you ain�t quite old enough to have one of these here, have a Snickers bar."

After a bit of fishing, the grandpa pulls out two scratch cards he bought at the store. The grandson asks if he can scratch one of them off, so the grandpa gives him one to scratch off.

After a few seconds of scratching, the grandpa won nothing but the grandson lights up and yells, "Grandpa, I just won a million dollars!"

The grandpa says, "Wow, that is great, are you going to share some of that money with your grandpa?"

The grandson says, "Grandpa, can you touch the head of your penis to your asshole?"

The grandpa says, "Yes, I sure can!"

The grandson says, "Good, then go fuck yourself!"

An irate woman burst into the baker's shop and said, "I sent my son in for two pounds of cookies this morning, but when I weighed them there was only one pound. I suggest that you check your scales."

The baker looked at her calmly for a moment or two and then replied, "Ma'am, I suggest you weigh your son."

A sweet old lady telephoned the hospital.

She timidly asked, "Is it possible to speak to someone who can tell me how a patient is doing?"

The operator said, "I can, what's the name and room number?"

The old lady in her weak voice said, "Doreen Jacobs, Room 604."

The operator replied, "Let me place you on hold while I check with her nurse."

After a few minutes the operator returned to the phone and said, "Oh, I have good news, her nurse just told me that Doreen is doing very well. Her blood pressure is fine; her test results came back as normal and her physician, Dr. Ross, has scheduled her to be discharged on Tuesday."

The old lady said, "Thank you. That's wonderful! I was so worried! God bless you!"

The operator replied, "You're more than welcome. Is Doreen your daughter?"

The grandmother said, "No, I'm Doreen Jacobs in room 604. No one tells me shit."

A blonde and a redhead walking together on the street when they passed a florist.

The redhead said, "I hate it when my husband buys me flowers. They always come with expectations, and I don't want to be laying on my back with my legs in the air for three days."

To which the blonde replied, "Don't you have a vase?"

The parish was always scratching for mortgage payments, until one day the vicar came up with a plan: they would buy a racehorse, enter it in a few races, and see if they could win some money. The council agreed, the hat was passed, and the good Father went to the next horse auction.

Unfortunately, the reverend didn't actually know much about horses, so he thought he got a good deal on the short one with the long ears. He fed it some grain and a few carrots, and entered it in Saturday's races.

It came in third, and the local paper reported, "Reverend Black's ass shows." The Archbishop was NOT pleased.

Based on that success, the reverend fed the donkey some grain and a few carrots and entered it in the next week's race. For reasons unknown, the little donkey WON his race, and the paper reported, "Reverend Black's ass out front!" The Archbishop shouted at the vicar for two whole hours.

Undeterred (and rather pleased with his financial success so far), Reverend Black laid low for a week but fed the donkey some grain and a few carrots and entered it in the following week's races. The competition was a little tougher, he finished second, and the local paper reported, "Reverend Black's ass back in place.", and the Archbishop was nothing short of furious.

Reverend Black continued his parish's little "side enterprise" yet another week, but this time the Archbishop caught word of it, contacted the track manager, and had the donkey removed from the race. Knowing that their readers would want to know, the local paper reported, "Archbishop scratches Reverend Black's ass." And the Archbishop was apoplectic.

So the Archbishop, in no uncertain terms, ORDERED Reverend Black to cease and desist, and to get rid of the donkey. The vicar took the animal back to the horse auction where, based on his reputation, the donkey fetched £4000, which Reverend Black dutifully put back in the church's bank. Knowing that their readers would want to know, the paper reported, "Reverend Black peddles his ass for four thousand quid!"

And that is the real reason why the Archbishop resigned.

On his 74th birthday, a man got a gift certificate from his wife. The certificate paid for a visit to a herbalist living nearby, who was rumoured to have a wonderful cure for erectile dysfunction.

After some discussion with his wife, the man made a visit to the herbalist and handed his voucher over, wondering what he was in for.

The elderly herbalist handed a potion to the man, and with a grip on his shoulder warned, "This is a powerful medicine. You take only a teaspoonful, and then say '1-2-3.' When you do, you will become more manly than you have ever been in your life, and you can perform as long as you want."

Greatly encouraged, the man turned and started to walk away, then stopped and asked, "How do I stop the medicine from working?"

The herbalist replied, "Your partner must say '1-2-3-4,' but when she does, the medicine will not work again until the next full moon."

Eager to see if it worked, the man went home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine, and then invited his wife to join him in the bedroom.

When she came in, he took off his clothes and said, "1-2-3!"

Immediately, he was the manliest of men. His wife was excited and began throwing off her clothes, and then she asked, "What was the '1-2-3' for?"

And that, boys and girls, is why we should never end our sentences with a preposition because we could end up with a dangling participle.

Last Summer, a group of South Carolina bikers were riding east on 378 when they saw a girl about to jump off the Pee Dee River Bridge. So they stopped.

George, their leader, a big burly man of 53, gets off his Harley, walks through a group of gawkers, past the State Trooper who was trying to talk her down off the railing, and says, "Hey Baby ... whatcha doin' up there on that railin'?"

She says tearfully, "I'm going to commit suicide!"

While he didn't want to appear "sensitive," George also didn't want to miss this "be-a-legend" opportunity either, so he asked ... "Well, before you jump, Honey-Babe ... why don't you give ol' George here your best last kiss?"

So, with no hesitation at all, she leaned back over the railing and did just that ... and it was a long, deep, lingering kiss followed immediately by another even better one.

After they breathlessly finished, George gets a big thumbs-up approval from his biker-buddies, the onlookers, and even the State Trooper, and then says, "Wow! That was the best kiss I have ever had!

"That's a real talent you're wasting there, Sugar Shorts. You could be famous if you rode with me. Why are you committing suicide?"

"My parents don't like me dressing up like a girl."

It's still unclear whether she jumped or was pushed.