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Tell me a joke.....

pavel408

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Self-censorship - deleted political content.
 
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Brush Ape

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Mike and Barb were hitting their stride in life. Kids gone. Dog was fat. Everything paid for. Barb focused more on her tennis swing since they’d hired a rotating maid from a sevice. Mike worked on his hotrod whenever the maid worked twice a week.
Running ten late after some good sex, Barb noticed on her way out the drive that the maid coming up the walk that morning was a particularly attractive one.

The house was very clean when she got back, Barb almost forgot how good looking that day’s maid had been.

When she and Mike climbed into bed, Barb says, “Well your cute little maid did everything right but she left the pillowcases inside out!”

Mike says, “You ain’t tellin’ me nothin’. I also had to pull the sheets out of my ass.”
 

Philbert

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I guess I'm having a senior moment, I don't get it.

Me either
People often ask a dog, ‘Who’s a good boy?’, instead of just telling the dog, ‘Good boy!’ (or girl).

Smokey has low self-esteem, so he ‘responds’ that it is another dog, ‘Max’, that is the good boy, rather than accepting it as praise.

Philbert
 

Wood Doctor

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There was a tradesman, a painter called Jock, who was very interested in making a penny everywhere he could. So, he often would thin down paint to make it go a wee bit further. As it happened, he got away with this for some time, but eventually the local Baptist Church decided to do a big restoration job, including painting one of their biggest buildings.

Jock put in a bid and because his price was so low, he got the job. So he set to erecting the trestles and setting up the planks and buying the paint and, yes, I am sorry to say, thinning it down with turpentine. Well, Jock was up on the scaffolding, painting away, the job nearly completed when suddenly there was a horrendous clap of thunder, the sky opened, and the rain poured down. It washed the thinned paint from all over the church and knocked Jock clear off the scaffold to land on the grass among the gravestones of the church’s small graveyard.

There he lay, surrounded by telltale puddles of the thinned and useless paint. Jock was no fool. He knew this was a judgment from the Almighty, so he got on his knees and cried: “Oh, God! Forgive me! What should I do?”

And from the thunder, a mighty voice spoke... (You are going to love this) “Repaint! Repaint! And thin no more.”
 
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