A bit of humour

In a hospital, a gentleman had made several attempts to
get into the men's restroom, but it had always been
occupied. A nurse noticed his predicament.
Sir, she said ' You may use the ladies room if you promise
not to touch any of the buttons on the wall.'
He did what he needed to, and as he sat there he noticed
the buttons he had promised not to touch.
Each button was identified by letters: WW, WA , PP, and
a red one labeled ATR.
Who would know if he touched them?
He couldn't resist. He pushed WW. Warm water was
sprayed gently upon his bottom.
What a nice feeling, he thought. Men's restrooms don't
have nice things like this.
Anticipating greater pleasure, he pushed the WA button.
Warm air replaced the warm water, gently drying his
underside.
When this stopped, he pushed the PP button. A large
powder puff caressed his bottom adding a fragile scent
of spring flower to this unbelievable pleasure.. The ladies
restroom was more than a restroom, it is tender loving
pleasure. When the powder puff completed its pleasure,
he couldn't wait to push the ATR button which he knew
would be supreme ecstasy.
Next thing he knew he opened his eyes, he was in a
hospital bed, and a nurse was staring down at him.
'What happened?' he exclaimed. The last thing I
remember was pushing the ATR button.
'The button ATR is an AutomaticTampon Remover. Your
cough is under your pillow.'

 
Mildred, the church gossip and self-appointed monitor
of the church's morals, kept sticking her nose into other
people's business.
Several members did not approve of her activities, but
feared her enough to maintain their silence. She made a
mistake, however, when she accused George, a new
church member, of being an alcoholic after she saw his
old pickup parked in front of the town's only bar one
afternoon. She emphatically told George (and several
others) that everyone seeing it there would know what
he was doing.
George, a man of few words, stared at her for a moment
and then just turned and walked away. He didn't explain,
defend , or deny... He said nothing.
Later that evening, George quietly parked his pickup in
front of Mildred's house...
Walked home.. And left it there all night.
You Gotta love George...
 
Little boy asks his dad where poo comes from?
Dad explains that food is passed down the oesophagus to
the stomach where digestive enzymes induce a probiotic
reaction in the alimentary canal to extract protein before
waste products descend via the colon and rectum
to emerge as poo.
And Dad, what about Tigger??
 
Blonde was sent on her way to Heaven. Upon arrival, a
concerned St Peter met her at the Pearly Gates. 'I'm
sorry,' St Peter said; 'But Heaven is suffering from an
overload of goodly souls and we have been forced to put
up an Entrance Exam for new arrivals to ease the burden
of Heavenly Arrivals.'
'That's cool' said the blonde, 'What does the Entrance
Exam consist of?'
'Just three questions' said St Peter.
'Which are?' asked the blonde.
'The first,' said St Peter, 'is, which two days of the
week start with the letter 'T' '?
The second is 'How many seconds are there in a year?'
The third is 'What was the name of the swagman in
Waltzing Matilda?'
'Now,' said St Peter, 'Go away and think about those
questions and when I call upon you, I shall expect you to
have those answers for me.'
So the blonde went away and gave those three questions
some considerable thought.
The following morning, St Peter called upon the blonde
and asked if she had considered the questions, to which
she replied, 'I have.'
'Well then,' said St Peter, 'Which two days of the week
start with the letter T?'
The blonde said, 'Today and Tomorrow.'
St Peter pondered this answer for some time, and
decided that indeed the answer can be applied to the
question.
'Well then, could I have your answer to the second of
the three questions?' St Peter went on, 'how many
seconds in a year?'
The Blonde replied, 'Twelve!'
'Only twelve?' exclaimed St Peter, 'How did you arrive
at that figure?'
'Easy,' said the blonde, 'there's the second of January,
the second of February, right through to the second of
December, giving a total of twelve seconds.'
St Peter looked at the blonde and said, 'I need some
time to consider your answer before I can give you a
decision.' And he walked away shaking his head.
A short time later, St Peter returned to the Blonde.
'I'll allow the answer to stand, but you need to get the
third and final question absolutely correct to be allowed
into Heaven. Now, can you tell me the answer to the
name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?'
The blonde replied: 'Of the three questions, I found
this the easiest to answer.'
'Really!' exclaimed St Peter, 'And what is the answer?'
'It's Andy.' 'Andy??' 'Yes, Andy,' said the blonde.
This totally floored St Peter, and he paced this way and
that, deliberating the answer. Finally, he could not stand
the suspense any longer, and turning to the blonde,
asked 'How in God's name did you arrive at THAT ??
'Easy' said the blonde, 'Andy sat, Andy watched, Andy
waited till his billy boiled.'
And lo, the blonde entered Heaven...
 
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The vibrator


AS A WOMAN PASSES HER DAUGHTER'S CLOSED BEDROOM DOOR, SHE HEARD A
STRANGE BUZZING NOISE COMING FROM WITHIN.OPENING THE DOOR, SHE OBSERVED HER DAUGHTER GIVING HERSELF A REAL
WORKOUT WITH A VIBRATOR. SHOCKED, SHE
ASKED: "WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING?"

THE DAUGHTER REPLIED: "MOM, I'M THIRTY-FIVE YEARS OLD,UNMARRIED,AND
THIS THING IS ABOUT AS CLOSE AS I'LL EVER GET TO A HUSBAND. PLEASE, GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE."

THE NEXT DAY, THE GIRL'S FATHER HEARD THE SAME BUZZ COMING FROM THE
OTHER SIDE OF THE CLOSED BEDROOM DOOR. UPON ENTERING THE ROOM, HE
OBSERVED HIS DAUGHTER MAKING PASSIONATE LOVE TO HER VIBRATOR. TO HIS
QUERY AS TO WHAT SHE WAS DOING, THE DAUGHTER SAID: "DAD I'M THIRTY-FIVE, UNMARRIED, AND THIS THING IS ABOUT AS CLOSE AS I'LL EVER GET TO A HUSBAND. PLEASE, GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE."

A COUPLE DAYS LATER, THE WIFE CAME HOME FROM A SHOPPING TRIP, PLACED
THE GROCERIES ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER, AND HEARD THAT BUZZING NOISE
COMING FROM, OF ALL PLACES, THE LIVING ROOM. SHE ENTERED THAT AREA AND OBSERVED HER HUSBAND SITTING ON THE COUCH, DOWNING A COLD BEER, AND
STARING AT THE TV. THE VIBRATOR WAS NEXT TO HIM ON THE COUCH, BUZZING
LIKE CRAZY.
THE WIFE ASKED: 'WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

THE HUSBAND REPLIED:
"I'M WATCHING RUGBY WITH MY SON-IN-LAW.


 
One evening a family brings their frail, elderly mother to a nursing home and leave her, hoping she will be well cared for.

The next morning, the nurses bathe her, feed her a tasty breakfast, and set her in a chair at a window overlooking a lovely flower garden. She seems OK, but after a while she slowly starts to fall over sideways in her chair.

Two attentive nurses immediately rush up to catch her and straighten her up. Again she seems OK, but after a while she starts to tilt to the other side. The nurses rush back and once more bring her back upright. This goes on all morning.

Later the family arrives to see how the old woman is adjusting to her new home. They ask, "So Ma, how is it here? Are they treating you good?"

"It's pretty nice," she replies. "Except they won't let you fart!"
 
An Asian woman goes into a bank in Perth and begins exchanging her
money. After the transaction is complete she asks the teller: "Why it
change? Yestoday I get two hunat dollar fo my money, today I Only get
a hunat eighty?"


The teller says very slowly: "Fluctuations"


The Asian woman replies: "Fluc you Ozzies too!
 
Apologies if it's somewhere earlier in this thread but the AFF golf day reminded me of this (old one):

Tiger Woods was on holidays in Ireland. He pulled into a remote servo in his rented top-of-the-range BMW to fill up with petrol. The Irish attendant filled the tank then noticed a couple of golf tees on the centre console. "And what would they be?" he inquired of Tiger. "They're to rest my balls on when I'm driving", Tiger replied. "Well I'll be", responded the Irish fellow in astonishment, "those German car makers think of everything!''
 
For those of you who have never had one, and for those of us who can relate to this!!

This is from newshound Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:

I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis . Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!'

I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's enemies.

I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon. The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowel movement may result.' This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.

MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.

After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.

At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadis_ perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.

Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this is, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full F ire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.

When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate.

'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade.. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.

I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.

ABOUT THE WRITER: Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald. On the subject of Colonoscopies... Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite humorous..... A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies:

1. 'Take it easy, Doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before!
2. 'Find Amelia Earhart yet?'
3. 'Can you hear me NOW?'
4. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'
5. 'You know, in Arkansas , we're now legally married.'
6. 'Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'
7. 'You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out...'
8. 'Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!'
9. 'If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit!
10. 'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'
11. 'You used to be an executive at Enron, didn't you?'
12. 'God, now I know why I am not gay.'

And the best one of all.
13. 'Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?'
 
Only those who have had one (or two or three) can know just how true that description is,:D:D:D:D:D
 
It takes two things to be a consultant - grey hair and
haemorrhoids.

The grey hair makes you look distinguished and the
haemorrhoids make you look concerned.
 
It takes two things to be a consultant - grey hair and
haemorrhoids.

The grey hair makes you look distinguished and the
haemorrhoids make you look concerned.

Given that consultants are paid piles and cause lots of grimacing whilst producing cough outcomes it seems fair. :p
 
Re: For those of you who have never had one, and for those of us who can relate to th

This is from newshound Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:

Dave Barry's column used to appear in one of the local rags years ago. Very funny, and as codash99 alluded to, under the humour that is a very accurate description, though I've never heard an anaesthetist referred to as an anaesthiologist - maybe a cross-pond thing.
 
Re: For those of you who have never had one, and for those of us who can relate to th

This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
How would anyone know what a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser taste like? :confused: :shock: :rolleyes:
 
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Re: For those of you who have never had one, and for those of us who can relate to th

This is from newshound Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:
MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.

Having been there done that I think Dave understates the effect of the laxative. When taking this product it is essential that one is not more than 1/2 to 1 pace from a toilet. Closer is better.

You wonder if you can ever trust breathing again let alone a fart.

For men it is about the only time in your life when you appreciate soft toilet paper.

Perhaps the final indignity is that they offer you photos of your intestine. Who on earth would want them? I mean you can't really show them around can you? (Well not without appearing very deviant anyway.)

Finally the best thing about this is that everything was ok.:cool:

I am not looking forward to having this done as a regular procedure. Gives new insight into women having a pap smear every year. No wonder men prefer to die.
 
Re: For those of you who have never had one, and for those of us who can relate to th

Guys this is supposed to be a humour thread. :rolleyes:

I am not looking forward to having this done as a regular procedure. Gives new insight into women having a pap smear every year. No wonder men prefer to die.
No problem at all. I am only 45 and started doing this procedure ~16 years ago due to a family history of polyps. So we feel akward or uncomfortable for a day or so. No big deal....
 
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A man who owns a pharmac_ showed up at work one day around noon. He saw a man leaning against the wall outside with a grimace on his face.

The owner asked his assistant manager who the guy outside was.

The assistant said, "He came in looking for cough medicine. I could not find any, so I gave him a bottle of laxative and told him to drink it all."

The manager said, "You can't cure a cough with laxative!"

The assistant replied, "Sure you can. Look at him, he's afraid to cough!"
 
Re: For those of you who have never had one, and for those of us who can relate to th

Guys this is supposed to be a humour thread. :rolleyes:


No problem at all. I am only 45 and started doing this procedure ~16 years ago due to a family history of polyps. So we feel akward or uncomfortable for a day or so. No bid deal....
My last serious comment on the subject. (I hope)

I have several friends who have had bowel cancer to different degrees including one who died just before Christmas. To me the indignity and pain in the cough for a day or two is worth it :!: :shock: :oops:

Though not necessarily statistically accurate there seems to be a higher than average issue of bowel cancer among the Pilot fraternity. :(
 
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