A REAL MAN...

A real man is a woman's best friend. He will never stand her up and never let her down. He will reassure her when she feels insecure and comfort her after a bad day.
He will inspire her to do things she never thought she could do; to live without fear and forget regret. He will enable her to express her deepest emotions and give in to her most intimate desires. He will make sure she always feels as though she's the most beautiful woman in the room and will enable her to be the most confident, sexy, seductive, and invincible.

No wait... sorry... I'm thinking of wine.

Never mind.

WARNING TO ALL WRINKLIES...

You've heard about people who have been abducted and had their Kidneys removed by black-market organ thieves. Well, this kind of Cruel theft is happening with other body parts as well!

My thighs were stolen from me during the night a few years ago. I Went to sleep and woke up with someone else's thighs. It was just That quick. The replacements had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine? I spent the entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, Hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living Out my life in jeans. And then the thieves struck again!

My Butt was next. I knew it was the same gang, because they took Pains to match my new rear end to the thighs they had stuck me with Earlier, but my new butt was attached at least three inches lower Than my original! I realized I'd have to give up my jeans in favor Of long skirts.

Two years ago I realized my arms had been switched. One morning I Was fixing my hair and was horrified to see the flesh of my upper Arms swing to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush. This was Really getting scarey- my body was being replaced one section at a time.

What could they do to me next?

When my poor neck suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a Turkey neck, I decided to tell my story.

Women of the world, wake Up and smell the coffee! Those "plastic" surgeons are using REAL Replacement body parts -stolen from you and me!
The next time Someone you know has something "lifted,” look again - was it lifted from you?
THIS IS NOT A HOAX. This is happening to women everywhere, every Night.

WARN YOUR FRIENDS! P.S. Last year I thought someone had stolen my Boobs. I was lying In bed and they were gone! But when I jumped out of bed, I was Relieved to see that they had just been hiding in my armpits as I Slept. Now I keep them hidden in my waistband....

THOUGHT WE WOULD HAVE A SMILE TODAY :-) XXXXXX

AGE OLD QUESTION

I mowed the lawn yesterday and after doing so I sat down and had a couple
of nice cold beers.
The day was really quite beautiful, and the brew facilitated some deep thinking on various topics.
Finally I thought about an age old question:
Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the whatsits ?

Women always maintain that giving birth is way more painful than a guy
getting kicked in the whatsits.

Well, after another beer, and some heavy
deductive thinking, I have come up with the answer to that question.
Getting kicked in the whatsits is more painful than having a baby;
and here is the reason for my conclusion.
A year or so after giving birth, a woman will often say,
"it might be nice to have another child."

On the other hand, you never hear a guy say,
"You know, I think I would like another kick in the whatsits "
I rest my case.

TRUE FRIENDSHIP

Do you want to find out who is truly your real friend?

This really works !!!

If you don't believe me, just try this little experiment.

Put your wife/husband/partner and your dog in the boot of the car for an hour.

When you open the boot, who is really happy to see you?

TERRORISTS BEWARE

Take all the British/American women who are within five years of menopause - train us for a few weeks, outfit us with automatic weapons, grenades, gas masks, moisturizer with SPF15, Prozac, hormones, chocolate, and canned tuna - drop us (parachuted, preferably) across the landscape of Afghanistan, and let us do what comes naturally.

Think about it. Our anger quotient alone, even when doing standard stuff like grocery shopping and paying bills, is formidable enough to make even armed men in turbans tremble.

We've had our children, we would gladly suffer or die to protect them and their future. We'd like to get away from our husbands, if they haven't left already. And for those of us who are single, the prospect of finding a good man with whom to share life is about as likely as being struck by lightning. We have nothing to lose.

We've survived the water diet, the protein diet, the carbohydrate diet, and the grapefruit diet in gyms and saunas across the Western world and never lost a pound. We can easily survive months in the hostile terrain of Afghanistan with no food at all!

We've spent years tracking down our husbands or lovers in bars, hardware stores, or sporting events...finding terrorists in some cave will be no problem.

Uniting all the warring tribes of Afghanistan in a new government? Oh, please ... we've planned the seating arrangements for in-laws and extended families at Christmas dinners for years ... we understand tribal warfare.

Between us, we've divorced enough husbands to know every trick there is for how they hide, launder, or cover up bank accounts and money sources. We know how to find that money and we know how to seize it ... with or without the government's help!

Let us go and fight. The Taliban hates women. Imagine their terror as we crawl like ants with hot-flashes over their godforsaken terrain.

THE PASTORS ASS

The pastor entered his donkey in a race and it won.

The pastor was so pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the Race again, and it won again.

The local paper read:

PASTOR'S ASS OUT FRONT.

The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the pastor not to enter the donkey in another race.

The next day, the local paper headline read:

BISHOP SCRATCHES PASTOR'S ASS.

This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the pastor to get rid of the donkey.
The pastor decided to give it to a nun in a nearby convent.
The local paper, hearing of the news, posted the following headline the next day:

NUN HAS BEST ASS IN TOWN.

The bishop fainted.
He informed the nun that she would have to get rid of the donkey, so she sold it to a farmer for £20.

The next day the paper read:

NUN SELLS ASS FOR £20.

This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the nun to buy back the donkey and lead it to the plains where it could run wild.

The next day the headlines read:

NUN ANNOUNCES HER ASS IS WILD AND FREE.

The bishop was buried the next day.

The moral of the story is . . . being concerned about public opinion can bring you much grief and misery, even shorten your life.

Be yourself and enjoy life.

Stop worrying about everyone else's ass and you'll be a lot happier and live longer!

MAN TRUTHS!!!!

In 1814 women had no rights.
In 1914 women fought for some rights.
In 2014 women are always fucking right...

CAN'T POST IN HUMOUR CORNER SO GOING TO PUT IT HERE

Scientists have revealed that sperm helps hair grow,That explains why men have hairy knuckles, but its has got me wondering about my nan's moustache.