Daily Chuckle

Now that is funny no matter who you are.

A sweet little boy surprised his grandmother one morning and brought her a cup of coffee. He made it himself and he was so proud. Anxiously, he waited to hear the verdict. The grandmother in all her life had never had such a bad cup of coffee. As she forced down the last sip, his grandmother noticed three of those little green army guys were in the bottom of the cup.
She asked, "Honey, why would three of your little army men be in the bottom of my cup?"

Her grandson replied, "You know grandma, it's like on TV. 'The best part of waking up is soldiers in your cup'."

A gentleman staying at the Ritz removes a card offering sexual services from a telephone box in Piccadilly. Back at the hotel he rings the number.

A lady with a silky soft voice answers and asks if she can be of assistance.

The gentleman says, "I'd like a blow job, some missionary work, a little doggie-style, some mild bondage, finishing off with a pearl necklace. What do you think ?"

The lady says, " I think it sounds intriguing, sir, but you might like to press 9 first to get an outside line."

Toyboy said:

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That reminded me of a personal true story With a beer theme.

We built our house ourselves and it has a wide open floor plan on the first floor. The kitchen/dining area is at one end, and there is a Japanese style room at the other end beyond the living room. The distance between the Japanese room and the kitchen sink is about 60 feet, depending where you are standing.

My wife enjoys seeing wildlife. One evening while the days were still long after dinner, she’s in the kitchen washing dishes and I am for some reason in the Japanese room that looks down at our pond, and I see a few deer come up at the pond. So being the great husband I am, I want to call her attention to the deer so she can come over and see them, and I holler “Deer, deer” to get her attention.

Reply? “GET YOUR OWN BEER, I’M BUSY!”

One day while he was at the track playing the ponies and all but losing his shirt, Mitch noticed a priest who stepped out onto the track and blessed the forehead of one of the horses lining up for the 4th race.

Lo and behold, that horse - a very long shot - won the race..

Before the next race, as the horses began lining up, Mitch watched with interest the priest step onto the track. Sure enough, as the 5th race horses came to the starting gate the priest made a blessing on the forehead of one of the horses.

Mitch made a beeline for a betting window and placed a small bet on the horse. Again, even though it was another long shot, the horse the priest had blessed won the race.

Mitch collected his winnings, and anxiously waited to see which horse the priest would bless for the 6th race. The priest again blessed a horse.

Mitch bet big on it, and it won. Mitch was elated. As the races continued the priest kept blessing long shot horses, and each one ended up coming in first.

By now, Mitch was pulling in some serious money. By the last race, he knew his wildest dreams were going to come true. He made a quick dash to the ATM, withdrew all his savings, and awaited the priest's blessing that would tell him which horse to bet on.

True to his pattern, the priest stepped onto the track for the last race and blessed the forehead of an old nag that was the longest shot of the day. Mitch also observed the priest blessing the eyes, ears, and hooves of the old nag.

Mitch knew he had a winner and bet every cent he owned on the old nag. He then watched dumbfounded as the old nag come in dead last. Mitch, in a state of shock, made his way down to the track area where the priest was.

Confronting the old priest he demanded, "Father! What happened? All day long you blessed horses and they all won. Then in the last race, the horse you blessed lost by a country mile. Now, thanks to you I've lost every cent of my savings - - all of it!".

The priest nodded wisely and with sympathy. "Son," he said, "that's the problem with you Protestants, you can't tell the difference between a simple blessing and the last rites."

Seeing her friend Sally wearing a new locket, Meg asks if there is a memento of some sort inside.
"Yes," says Sally, "a lock of my husband's hair."
"But Larry's still alive."
"I know, but his hair is gone."

What do you get when you cross the Atlantic Ocean with the Titanic?
Halfway.

A convict was brought to the prison. When the guards locked him up in the cell with a bunch of other inmates, he was confused by the behavior in the prison around him. One man yelled out a number: "Forty-six!" And everybody doubled over laughing. Another man down the hall in another cell yelled out, "Ninety-one!" And the inmates started a new round of guffaws.
"How about twenty-one?" said another man. The prisoners choked, coughed and giggled and could barely breathe.
The newcomer scowled and pulled aside one of the men who seemed more in control of himself. "What's going on?" he asked. "Is this a prison or an asylum?"
The other inmate explained, "We've all been here so long and told the same jokes so many times that we got tired of telling the whole thing each time, so we decided to number them. Now, any time someone wants to tell a joke, they just yell out the number, and we all know which joke it's supposed to be."
"A hundred and seventy!" Someone yelled, and the inmates erupted in a new spasm of mirth.
The newcomer figured he could play this game as well as anybody, so he yelled out, "Fifty-nine!"

Nobody laughed.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

The other inmate grimaced and said, "Well, buddy, some people know how to tell a joke, and some people don't."