Mexican Delicacy

March 10th, 2010 by funnyserver

A big Texan stopped at a local restaurant following a day roaming around in Mexico.  While sipping his Tequila, he noticed a sizzling, scrumptious looking platter being served at the next table. Not only did it look good, the smell was wonderful. He asked the waiter, “What is that you just served?”

The Waiter replied, “Ah, senor, you have excellent taste, those are called Cojones de Toro, bull’s testicles from the bull fight this morning. A delicacy.”

The cowboy said, “What they heck, bring me an order.”

The waiter replied, “I am sorry senor. There is only one serving per day, because there is only one bull fight each morning. If you come early and place your order, we will be sure to save you this delicacy.”

The next morning, the cowboy returned, placed his order, and that evening was served the one and only special delicacy of the day.  After a few bites, inspecting his platter, he called to the waiter and said, “These are delicious, but they are much, much smaller than the ones I saw you serve yesterday.”

The waiter shrugged his shoulders and replied, “Si, Senor. Sometimes the bull wins.” 

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Crunch

March 9th, 2010 by funnyserver

A couple of women were playing golf one sunny Saturday morning.  The first of the twosome teed off and watched in horror as her ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole.  Indeed, the ball hit one of the men, and he immediately clasped his hands together at his crotch, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in evident agony.  The woman rushed over to the man and immediately began to apologize.  She said, “Please allow me to help.  I’m a physical therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you allow me to.”

“Ummph, oooh, nooo, I’ll be all right. I’ll be fine in a few minutes,” he replied breathlessly as he remained in a fetal position still clasping his hands together at his crotch.  But she persisted, and he finally allows her to help him.  She gently took his hands away and laid them to the side.  She loosened his pants and put her hands inside.  She began to massage him.  She then asked him, “How does that feel?”

To which he replied. “It feels great, but my thumb still hurts like hell.”

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Enjoy Life

March 8th, 2010 by funnyserver

A older woman recently picked a new primary care physician. After two visits and exhaustive lab tests, he said she was doing “fairly well” for her age. A little concerned about his comment, she couldn’t resist asking him, “Do you think I’ll live to be 90?”

He asked, “Well, do you smoke or drink?”

“Oh, no, “ she replied. “Not for over 20 years.”

“Do you eat red meat and greasy foods?”

“No, I have always maintained a healthy diet.”

“Do you spend a lot of time in the sun?” he asked.

“No, I don’t” she replied.

“Do you gamble, drive fast cars or fool around?”

“No,” she said. “I’ve never been that way.”

The doctor looked at the woman and said, “Well, then why in the hell would you want to live to be 90.”

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Pleasantville Chp. 1

March 6th, 2010 by funnyserver

I woke up late, thanks to a dead battery in my bedroom alarm clock. The power must have gone out during the middle of the night, because the numbers 00:00 were flashing. I got up from bed and in a bit of a daze, I walked into the bathroom to relieve my rather full bladder. As I walked in and lifted up the toilet seat, I was taken back by the ripe stench that rose with the lid – straight up and into my face like a SLAP. WOW! That was an opener. With that, I hit the light switch to get a better look at what had invaded my bathroom.  WOW! Again, I was taken back not only by the smell of death, but this time, it was visual. What a sight! My usually rather clean white commode was now decorated with the strangest brownish-green splats and spots all over it. It was even on the inside of the lid and even on the top of the seat. Plus there was a huge load of it festering in the bottom of the bowl. Nasty, I thought, and potent, too. I found it hard to even lean in towards it just to flush, but I did. With my fingers tightly holding my nasal passages closed, I leaned in to flush. But, just as I did, I noticed my youngest daughter, Mia, sleeping all curled up in our cold damp tub. She must have woken up in the middle of the night with a bad stomach.   Surprised, I flinched and hit my head on the wicker shelf that hung above the toilet, knocking MY brand new electric tooth brush right off the top shelf and into the lake of swampy crap. I tried to grab it quick enough, before it made contact, but instead, I accidentally shifted my body weight and hit the flusher. Lovely. I am not putting my hand in there, I thought. But if I didn’t, I was sure I would end up with a bill from the plumber before the day was done. So, without further hesitation, I stuck my freshly French manicured fingers into the bowl from HELL. Yuk! Too gross. Whoosh. Straight into the sink, with a spray of nasty as it flew by. MORE GROSS!  Enough of this, I thought.

By now, my daughter had started to wake up. “Not feeling good,” I asked as she lifted herself up to see what I was doing.

“It was bad,” she said in a sleepy, Minnie Mouse kind of tone.

“Too much fruit last night,” I replied just before realizing her entire bottom was also decorated in crap. “Oh, my God,” I sighed. “What does your bed look like?”

“I made it to the bathroom,” Mia said with pride. “It’s only in here, mommy.”

“Thank you, God,” I sighed as I tried to undress my baby girl without getting any more of the mess on me. I showing off Miss Poopy like I would have one of the dogs. I stood outside of the tub and hosed her down with the movable shower.

After that I figured I better move on and try to get my morning back on schedule. This mess would just have to wait until after the girls had been picked up for school, because I still had to wake up Bekka, make breakfast and lunches, get the girls in their already ironed and laid out clothes for the day. Otherwise Annette, my carpool mom, would be outside waiting in my driveway for two unfed poorly dressed, no lunch carrying little girls that would be out of focus like their mother all day. We couldn’t have that. Plus I still had to wake up my husband, Steven, who actually go to sleep in 30-minutes later today, because it is my day off and he doesn’t have to get the girls ready. Not that I don’t always iron our clothes the night before and not that I don’t always set breakfast out before I leave for my early morning shift at the diner and not that I don’t always make lunches for everyone and have them neatly packed away in the refrigerator – but on Wednesdays – I get to actually wake up early anyway so that I can walk everyone through the stages that I am normally gone to see.

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Getting A Dog

March 5th, 2010 by funnyserver

A woman was leaving a convenient store with her morning coffee, when she noticed a most unusual funeral procession approaching the nearby cemetery. A long black Hearst was followed by a second long black Hearst about 50 feet behind. Behind the second Hearst was a soldiery woman walking a pit bull dog on a leash. Behind her were 200 woman walking single file.

The woman couldn’t stand the curiosity. She respectfully approached the woman walking the dog and said, “I am sorry for your lose, and I know now is a bad time to disturb you, but I’ve never seen a funeral like this one. Whose funeral is it?”

 The woman replied, “Well that first Hearst is for my husband.”

“What happened to him?”

The woman replied, “My dog attacked and killed him.”

She inquired further, “Well, who is in the second Hearst?”

“His mistress. She tried to help my husband, so the dog turned on her too.”

 A poignant and thoughtful moment of silence passes between the two women. “Can I borrow the dog?” the woman asked.

“Get in line, “the widow answered.

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Divorced Barbie

March 4th, 2010 by funnyserver

One day a father gets out of work and on his way home he suddenly remembers that it’s his daughter’s birthday.  He pulls over to a toy store and asks the saleswoman, “How much for the Barbie’s in the display window?”

The sales lady answers, “Which one do you mean, Sir? We have Work Out Barbie for $19.95, Shopping Barbie for $19.95, Beach Barbie for $19.95, Disco Barbie for $19.95, Ballerina Barbie for $19.95 and Divorced Barbie for $265.95.”

The amazed father asks, “It’s what? Why is the Divorced Barbie $265.95 and all the others are only $19.95?”

The annoyed sales clerk rolls her eyes, sighs and answers, “Sir, Divorced Barbie comes with Ken’s car, Ken’s house, Ken’s boat, Ken’s furniture, Ken’s computer, one of Ken’s friends, and a keychain made from Ken’s balls.”

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Puppy Love

March 3rd, 2010 by funnyserver

Three dogs are caged in a waiting room at the local veterinarian’s office. There is a Poodle, a Chiuahua  and a Great Dane. The Poodle asks the Chiuahua what he is there for. The Chiuahua replies that his owner is tire of hearing him squawk. So he was there to have his vocal cords removed. The Poodle says, “That sucks, but I guess it is better than being put down.”

 The Chiuahua agrees.

Then, the Chiuahua asks the Poodle what he was there for. The Poodle tells him that his owner is sick and tired of him leaping around the house all the time, so he was there to have the tendons removed from his legs so that he could no longer jump around.

“Wow, that sucks,” the Chiuahua says. “But I guess it is better than being put down.”

The Poodle agrees.

Suddenly, the Poodle and the Chiuahua look at the Great Dane. “What are you in for?” The Poodle asks.

 The Great Dane responds, “Well, the other day, while my owner was bent over in the bathroom drying herself off after her shower, I mounted her.”

 The other two dogs gasped in shock. “She brought you in to have you put down?” the Poodle asks sadly.

“No,” the Dane answers, “To have my nails clipped.”

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Break-up Letter

March 1st, 2010 by funnyserver

A Marine stationed overseas recently received a “Dear John” letter from his girlfriend back home. It read as follows

Dear Ricky,
I can no longer continue our relationship. The distance between us is just too great. I must admit that I have cheated on you twice, since you’ve been gone, and it’s not fair to either of us. I’ m sorry please return the picture of me that I sent to you.

 Love, Becky…..

The Marine, with hurt feelings, asked his fellow Marines for any snapshots they could spare of their girlfriends, sisters, ex-girlfriends, aunts, cousins etc. In addition to the picture of Becky, Ricky included all the other pictures of the pretty gals he had collected from his buddies. There were 57 photos in that envelope….
along  with this note:

Dear Becky,
I ‘ m so sorry, but I can ‘ t quite remember who the f*** you are.

Please  take your picture from the pile, and send the rest back to me.

 Take Care, Ricky…

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Thank You Ms. Lauper

February 25th, 2010 by funnyserver

HER SONG IS MY SIGN!   I want to start out by saying I am a HUGE fan of Cindi Lauper. I even had the privilege to see her perform at Radio City Music Hall for a Christmas Special with Eddie Money. A concert I almost missed, because my older sister had no business driving us into the city from New Jersey. It actually took her THREE times – passing the entrance to the arena – having to loop around the toll for the Lincoln Tunnel, before we finally made it into the parking lot. It sure was worth it though, because she ROCKED!  :-)

Anyway, the song Time After Time has always been my favorite. It is not only my favorite song by Cindi but it is one of my “All Time Favorite Songs.” When my dad passed away about 8-years ago, I had to leave my home in Florida and return to my hometown, Hopatcong, NJ, for a month to straighten up my parents affairs. I traveled with my eight month old baby girl and her 5-year old sister. It was hard. My husband could not leave work to be with us. My mother could not be left alone in the house she shared over 40-years with my dad in. Thank God I had a lot of life long friends to help me get through it all.

Strange though, every time I would try to sneak away for even a moment by myself, her song, Time After Time would come on the radio. It was like I could feel my dad’s presence. I had always related the song to a past love, but it was during my moments of overwhelming grief that it would play, and I would find comfort in knowing it was my dad reminding me that he was still watching over me and he would be waiting.

Okay, I know it all sounds hokey. BUT, she filmed her video for Time After Time in Ledgewood, NJ, in a diner I grew up in. The Dover Bus Station, also in the video, was only miles from my home. I have always had a connection to the song, but after that I believe – every time I hear that song he is visiting with me.

Before my dad died, he was always busting chops about how I never used my degree in Print Communication/Journalism that he paid for when he moved me down south to attend The University of Central Florida. Much like with my two older sisters, he felt like we should have all done more professional things with our educations than any of us did. I was always proud to be a WAITRESS-MOM as long as I got to spend as much quality time with my girls as I possibly could. Unfortunately, to him, that was just a waste of time and HIS money.

So, recently, when I published my very first book, Serving Up Some Funny, a spicy little joke book from a server’s point of view, I was amazed to find the song, Time After Time mixed up in the batch again. The marketing team at Strategic Book Publishing, the publishing house that published my book, created a YouTube video trailer for my book.

When I first received the link to my NEW YouTube video, something my daughters had to show me how to do, I was very pleased. The video was cute. I was happy to simply finally have bragging rights that “I am a published author. I did not waste my father’s tuition money to be a house wife. I just didn’t go professional soon enough for him to see it.”

Suddenly – out of the corner of my eye – I notice under Related Videos, listed to the right of my name and my book title, the link to Cindi Lauper’s music video Time After Time.

I was BEYOND moved. It was like my dad had literally come back from the dead to tell me that he was proud! How cool is that? I felt total recognition, for the first time in my entire life, and it was all through Cindi that it was possible.

Some might say it is all in my imagination. But, I know better. I believe in signs, and I know other watch over me and guide me along my way. I thank Ms. Lauper for helping me see the signs.

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Doughboy Died

February 24th, 2010 by funnyserver

Having a crummy day? Knead a lift?  Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71 years old.

Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours.

Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was considered a very smart cookie, but wasted much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flakey at times, he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive role model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, three children: John Dough, Jane Dough and Dosey Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.

The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

Thank you Lee Ann :-)

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