who needs a laugh

Gook is for Koreans specifically. It has something to do with the Korean word for "nation", I think.

I didn't know "wog" was for Mediterraneans. Maybe it's used differently in Australia than it is in Scotland. One of my friends is Scottish and when he hears "wog" he thinks "black guy".

 

Yeah, wog is more specifically for Greeks, but anyone who looks like that could be classed, or called, a wog. Kind of offensive though, depends the way you say it.

I really don't see how wog could be a black guy though.

 

Me neither to tell the truth.

I had never even heard the expression before my friend's drunk dad told me a racist joke about a an Irish guy, a Scottish guy, and a black dude working in a factory. The punchline went something like "So the foreman yelled, 'Mic, Mac, paddywack leave the Wog alone!".

Later on I had to ask my friend what a "wog" was. "A wog is a black guy. It's equivalent to 'nigger'," he said.

So, yeah... His dad was a swell guy. Later on that night, he literally lit a fire under my ass. He took his fucking lighter and tried to light the back of my pants on fire. Barrel of laughs. "Eh, you fook-en sett-en oan my drrriyve-weh!" Good times. I still don't get how his mind decided setting someone's butt on fire for the offense of sitting on his driveway was a reasonable reaction.

 

Yes, wog is used by racist idiots in the UK to mean someone who is black. I don't understand why. My dad told me it originated as an acronym for "Western Oriental Gentlemen" a long time ago and got warped from there. My dad says a lot of things, though (like me).

 

Perhaps he wanted to burn his way through. Anyway I think there should be hidden cameras placed all around you Milo filming your life thus creating the best comedy show in history.

 

It really wasn't all that funny. Well, he thought it was a laff riot. I thought it was kind of sad. I felt bad for my friend and his brother. They had this look on their face like, "oh man, Dad's wasted again..."

Thankfully, he didn't succeed in setting my ass of fire. I think he did it more to make me jump anyway.

 

Well it wasn't funny to you or your friend but I was laughing my ass off. Just like when I read your job interview story. It seems that people have this tendency to laugh at another's misfortune. Seem I was cuaght in the the middle of a flood last year walking half the city knees deep in water. When I reported my experience to a friend via email he said that of course he feel sorry for what I've been trough but at the same time he admitted that he was laughing his ass off while reading that. Human nature.

 

I laugh at other people's misfortune all the time. Milo has more misfortune, and funnier misfortune, than anyone I've ever met. Tell us more stories! With as many tales of misfortune that you've regaled us with so far, you've got to have more!

Roc is still the funniest one though.

 

too many post's, not enough jokes........... umm, S_F, what do you mean "affectionately"...........?

Two Westie Chicks walk into a David Jones store, they walk up to the perfume counter and pick up a sample bottle. Shazza sprays it on her wrist and smells it:
"That's quite nice innit, don't you fink Cheryl?"
"Yeah, what's it called?"
"Viens a moi"
"VIENS A MOI, what the fuck does that mean?
At this stage the assistant walks by and say's "That smell's like come to me".
Shazza takes another sniff and offers her arm to Cheryl, again
saying:
"That doesn't smell like come to me Cheryl, does that smell like come to
you?"...........

*edit* on a side note happy b-day to me _ *edit*

 

Did you guys hear about Lorena Bobbit getting in that bad wreck the other day?

Yeah, apparently, some dick cut her off.

 

Yeah, I get that. Like this one time...

Me and my friend Leonel where sitting in front of the 7-11 (convenience store). We were eating Nachos and drinking Big Gulps, taking a break from owning people on the Street Fighter II Champion Edition machine. Yeah, gimme a break, we were losers. Also, it was near the pay phones, which was great because no one had cell phones yet besides doctors.

So as we sat there waiting for our OMG SO COOL SEE-THROUGH BLUE MOTOROLA PAGERS to go off so we could call someone and escape our loserly Street Fighter 2 filled lives while we stuffed our ever-fattening asses with synthetic cheeze and 64oz sodas, we see a youngish professional looking woman enter into the store complete with business suit and briefcase.

By the looks of her, she was all business. As me and Leonel wiped chili on our pants, flicked ashes, and checked our pagers for beeps which would never come, we noted her sexy yet sensible shoes, the attractive cut of her form-fitting above the knee skirt and the way she strode full of confidence into the store.

Now, this particular 7-11 had double swinging doors. For some reason, the welcome carpet placed at the entrance for the customer's foot-wiping pleasure had crept up onto the door jamb so that one of the doors wouldn't fully close. Either that or one of the doors was just fucked up, I don't remember. Either way, this created a gap between doors that was about three inches wide.

Anyway, me and Leonel sat there in front of the 7-11, doing nothing much, idly watching her through the glass storefront. Whoa, she must really be concerned about osteoporosis! She's buying three one gallon jugs of milk? Why? These things we are not meant to know. Suffice it to say, the young urban professional woman of the 90's had to make the trek back to her car with three big containers of milk and her briefcase.

Unfortunately for her, 7-11 didn't have any bags for her to carry the milk in. Silently, me and Leonel watched her through the glass mime "that's ok, I can carry them."

"Each jug has handles." Leonel said, answering the expression on my face, what he must have read as, "Insanity! Three Jugs?! It can not be done without a bag!". Ah, I see. Thank you, my friend.

But another problem arose as she tried to take the milk from the counter. Apparently, despite the convenient handles, she was not able to grab all three jugs of milk and her briefcase. Her petite hands just couldn't wrap around all of the handles. Maybe she had webbed fingers or something. Freak.

Anyway, she solved this problem by bending down ("woo hoo" -- Leonel) to the counter and cradling all three jugs of mild to her bosom while clutching the briefcase with her hand. As she turned to the door, she wobbled unsteadily for a second causing the clerk to throw his hand out dramatically. She righted herself before he could cop a feel, though.

Making her way to the door, she stuck out one shapely leg to hook the door with her foot and yank it open. Then, teetering again for just a second before steadying herself, she made her way through la porte du destin¹. Ah, another satisified customer. But wait!

"UGH!"

What's this? All of a sudden, she's down on one knee? Apparently, the door had trapped her back ankle as it closed behind her, sending her to the ground in some sort of "Thou shalt not pass!" fit of anthropomorphizisation.

Here's where it gets weird. Instead of doing the reasonable thing, ie putting down the milk, freeing her ankle from the door, dusting herself off and going on her way, she decided to think outside of the box and go about solving the current problem in a more proactive and synergistic fashion. "I'm going to shift this paradigm. The ball's in my court and I must run with it" her expression seemed to say, full of grit and determination.

With our mouths hanging open, me and Leonel sat and watched as she steeled herself, got her front leg under her and LEAPT! for all she was worth.

"Wha-?!"
"Huh?!"

Slowly she seemed to float through the air in a graceful milk-laden swan dive, the back of her glove leather pumps rising higher than her head at the apex of her flight to freedom.

"uh oh"
"oh man"

For one fleeting moment, her face betrayed the joy she felt. Man has always wished to fly, and she... she had achieved this. For that one brief, shining moment she was that little girl blowing dandelions in the wind, wondering what it would feel like if she could just drift away like the wishes she had just made, going wherever the breeze took her. Away, away from daddy's "late night visits" and mommy's cruel hands.

So yeah, it was a meaningful expression that she wore. One that was quickly replaced with sheer terror as the ground rushed up to meet her... milk.

"UNGH!" she unghed as her chest made first contact, exploding the milk jugs, sending a fine spray of osteoporosis fighting, calcium enriched cow juice onto our stunned faces.

"Whoa Shit!"
"Oh my God!"

She laid there at the center of her lactose blast pattern, face down and perfectly still. Not sure of what to do, me and Leonel made our way over to her, wondering if she was hurt, reasoning that maybe the bone strengthening properties of milk had fortified her enough to survive.

As we neared her, she shot up to her feet, causing us to jump. Glancing briefly at us, she straightened her drenched skirt and strode briskly to her car, dripping milk as though absolutely nothing had happened. *Tweet Tweet* said her car alarm as she opened the door, calmly buckled her seat belt (safety first, right?), and drove out of our lives forever.

"What. The. Fuck." we mumbled turning towards each other, before breaking down into gasping-for-breath, shit-in-your-pants grunts of laughter.


EPILOGUE
No one paged us that night. We spent a couple more bucks worth of quarters playing Street Fighter 2, chuckled a bit with the store clerk about "the milk lady" and then we rode our bikes home. I haven't seen Leonel in a few years, but this is a memory that we share whenever we meet over a few beers.











¹Translated from the French: "the doorway of destiny".

 

Fucking hilarious Milo! Where is the fountain that bubbles forth all these comedy-filled events for our reading pleasure? I ask, because I want in!

Oh yeah:

I so don't get this.

 

I guess the whole Lorena Bobbitt/John Wayne Bobbitt thing didn't make the news outside of the USA.

John Wayne Bobbitt was some redneck wife-beater type who got drunk one night and passed out. His wife, Lorena, snuck up to him while he was asleep and cut his dick off with a kitchen knife. Then she threw it out the bedroom window and into a field, before she took off.

Later on, the authorities found the needle in the haystack and managed to get him to a doctor to get it sewn back on. Later on, he would become a low-grade celebrity and star in bad pornography thanks to the incident.

 

Makes sense now. Isn't that funny though, retard .

 

Yeah, I thought the joke was fucking hilarious.

John Wayne Bobbit apparently was forcibly trying to make Lorena have sex with him. Fucker got what he deserved. By the way, speaking of Bobbit jokes, here's another one......


Lorena Bobbit, after cutting off John's dick went driving out on the highway. As she went along, she rolled down her car window, and gave the dick a fling. A bus full of nuns happened to be behind her. The dick flew through the air, and smacked against the windshield of the bus. Two nuns looked at each other. "Damn, Sister Mary," said one. "Did you see the size of the dick on that bug??!?!??!?"

 

Damn, and you didn't offer to carry her milk for her? That woulda been my first move...

 

Another gem from the master of comic disaster. It's the way you write them that cracks me up. Reminds me of Kevin Smith (or maybe that was just the convenience store bit).

 

I hate it when this thread sinks, but my incessant bitching about spam has now backfired; I get almost no spam and never hear any jokes. Sorry folks, but the best I can do is link up some Dilbert. Here's the one that I'm going to use on my boss

 

Where Harry worked, there was a gay guy. Everyone knew he was gay, but they just all kinda avoided the issue. Until one day, the gay guy walked up to Harry, and grabbed him on the privates. The gay guy just palmed Harry in the crotch, and just kept his hand there. Later, Harry was telling his wife what happened. "There I was, sweetie, this guy with his hand on my crotch, and I was thinking, 'You know, he has no right to just grab me like this! I don't have to take this!!'"

"Well, what did you do?" asked Harry's wife.

"Well," replied Harry, "After about 45 minutes, I told him, Look I gotta get back to work!"

 

Debbie's Story

LOL that was retarded :lol: Ok here is a funny story for you all...

A while back I was working for a call center when they hired this guy named Debbie a Transvestie (A dude built like a football player who wore a wig and a dress). My friend Lisa who sat in the same row with me was selected to train "Debbie" on the phone. This story is about Debbie's first phone call:

Debbie (in a very deep and masculine voice): Thank you for calling Client Logic this is Debbie speaking how may I help you?

Female Client: Um... EXCUSE me?

Debbie (the guy) : This is DEBBIE speaking may I help you?

FC: Um... you mean that you're sitting in for Debbie right?

Debbie (the guy) : No this IS Debbie speaking how may I help you?

FC: Um... could you transfer me cause this call is getting weird...

Debbie then tranfered the call and me and Lisa are doing everything we can to keep from cracking up! Then Paul's phone rang (another guy who sat in our row) He took the ladies order as usual and at the end of the call he was asked if he had an employee there named "Debbie". He looked at us and then said "Yes we do...." the lady then asked "Well could you tell me if it's a guy or a girl?" Well Paul turned beet red because he was sitting so close to us and he did not know what to say, "Well to be honest mame we really don't know..." he finally said. "Well if you do findout could you call me back and let me know cause I've got an office pool going here!"

Yes this is a true story....