On reaching his plane seat a man is surprised to see a parrot strapped in next to him. The man asks the stewardess for a coffee whereupon the parrot squawks, “And get me a whiskey, you ugly cow!”
The stewardess, flustered, brings back a whiskey for the parrot and forgets the coffee. While this omission is pointed out to her by the man, the parrot drains its glass and squawks “And get me another whiskey you low life!”
Quite upset, the girl comes back shaking with another whiskey but still no coffee. Unaccustomed to such slackness the man tries the parrot’s approach. “I’ve asked you twice for a coffee! Go and get it now or I’ll kick your rear!”
The next moment two burly stewards grab both the man and the parrot and throw them both out of the emergency exit.
As they are plunging downwards the parrot turns to the man and says, “For someone who can’t fly, you’re a bit cheeky!”
5 year old Johnny was staying with his grandfather for a few days. He’d been playing outside with the other kids, when he came into the house and asked, “Grandpa, what’s that called when two people sleep in the same bedroom and one is on top of the other?”
His Grandpa was a little taken aback, but he decided to tell him the truth. “Well, Johnny, it’s called sexual intercourse.”
“Oh…OK,” Johnny said, and went back outside to play with the other kids.
A few minutes later Johnny came back in and said, “Grandpa, Timmy said it’s not called sexual intercourse. It’s called bunk beds, and Timmy’s mom wants to talk to you.’
A woman living with her parents came home to find her mother and father sitting at the dining room table. On the table was the daughter’s vibrator.
The father spoke up and said, “Your mother was putting your laundry away when she found this… What is the meaning of this?”
After the daughter regained her composure from her initial embarrassment, she said, “Mom, Dad, I’m thirty-five, unmarried, and this thing is about as close as I’ll ever get to a husband.”
A couple days later the daughter came home from work and saw her father staring at the television and drinking a beer on the couch while holding onto the daughter’s vibrator.
“Dad, what is the meaning of this?” she cried out.
The father looked at his daughter and said, “Can’t a man watch a football game with his son-in-law?”
A talented female artist painted a highly detailed picture of a big eye on the outside wall of her eye doctor’s office in appreciation for restoring her eyesight.
Many people were coming to see, and it boosted the Doctor’s business.
A news reporter arrived and asked the doctor, “Sir, what was your reaction when such an attractive picture was put on the outside wall of your clinic?”
Doctor said, “I was thinking, thank goodness I was not her gynecologist!”
Although I knew our commanding officer hated doling out weekend passes, I thought I had a good reason.
“My wife is pregnant and I want to be with her,” I told the C.O. Much to my surprise he said, “Permission granted.”
Inspired by my success, a fellow soldier also requested a weekend pass.
His wife wasn’t pregnant, so when the C.O. asked why he should grant him permission, my friend responded, “My wife is getting pregnant this weekend, and I want to be with her.”
A man staggers into an emergency room with two black eyes and a five iron wrapped tightly around his throat.
“I was having a quiet round of golf with my wife,” he tells the doctor, “when she sliced her ball into a pasture of cows. We went to look for it, and I noticed one of the cows had something white in its rear end. I walked over and lifted up the tail, and sure enough, there was my wife’s golf ball stuck right in the cow’s butt. That’s when I made my mistake.”
“What did you do?” asks the doctor.
“Well, as I was standing there holding up the tail, I yelled to my wife, ‘Hey, this looks like yours!'”
A young boy enters a barber shop and the barber whispers to his customer, “This is the dumbest kid in the world. Watch while I prove it to you.”
The barber puts a dollar bill in one hand and two quarters in the other, then calls the boy over and asks, “Which do you want, son?”
The boy takes the quarters and leaves.
“What did I tell you?” said the barber. “That kid never learns!”
Later, when the customer leaves, he sees the same young boy coming out of the ice cream store. “Hey, son! May I ask you a question? Why did you take the quarters instead of the dollar bill?”
The boy licked his cone and replied, “Because the day I take the dollar, the game is over!”
It was a terrible winter, and a little sparrow was so cold the bird froze and fell to the ground into a large field. While he was lying there, a cow came by and dropped some dung on him. As the frozen bird lay there in the cow patty, he began to realize how warm he was. The dung was actually thawing him out! He lay there all warm and happy, and soon began to sing for joy. A passing cat heard the bird singing and came to investigate. Following the sound, the cat discovered the bird under the pile of cow dung, and promptly dug him out and ate him.
So what have we learned from this?
Not everyone who shits on you is your enemy.
Not everyone who gets you out of shit is your friend.
And when you’re in deep shit, it’s best to keep your mouth shut!
I suppose I should start by telling you how it happened. It was an otherwise nondescript day back in February. I went to get out of my rocker-recliner and when I scooched forward to get up, the front armrests bottomed out on the floor as they always do. Unbeknownst to me, Alex just happened to be laying down there that fateful day, and his left arm managed to get pinched.
Of course he yowled the loudest I'd ever heard him yell in his entire life and shot off into the basement. I felt terrible about it, but then I had no way of knowing he was down there when I went to get up. After a short while, Alex came back upstairs, and I was able to check for injury.
Shockingly, there were no broken bones, no blood, and Alex was able to walk just fine. It almost seemed cartoonish at the time, but down the left side of his left arm was a ribbon of flattened fur. He seemed somewhat indifferent to this, and acted like he just wanted to put the whole thing behind him. Seeing as Alex didn't appear to be in immediate danger, I took a "wait and see" position.
Over the next month, the "ribbon" began to shrink inward towards his elbow. I took this as a good sign that his injury was healing naturally and everything would be fine... But things were not fine. After a month and a half, his elbow began to swell. By mid-April I had to take him in to the vet for an exam.
The vet did a fair bit of Hmmm'ing and scrunched her face a lot. She didn't want to poke it with anything for fear it might introduce something. She took some measurements and expressed a "wait and see" attitude. I then scheduled a follow up appointment two months out.
Only a month later in mid-May, the swelling on his elbow had increased to the point that it started to ulcer. I called the vet and got him in immediately. This time they tried to drain it, but it went horribly. After the first stick, Alex started squirting blood all over the place, and the vet and technician freaked out and were running around looking for towels while I had to hold my cat down in a growing pool of his own blood.
After they got things back under control, she tried again with a larger needle, and went in from a different direction. After plunging to the center of the mass, she remarked that it was solid and that the fluid had probably dispersed into the surrounding tissue. She then went on to suggest that it might even be "malignant" and recommended a biopsy. They gave me an estimate for the procedure that ran from $500 to $800. I immediately left and made an appointment with another vet that I had gone to in the past.
The next day, my alternate vet didn't have any good news. By now, Alex's arm was very infected. At first he suggested that the arm would have to come off, but after noting Alex's age, he pulled back and recommended palliative care. I pushed for a quote on the cost of an amputation, and he informed me it would be around $3500 at the lowest, and that at his age, Alex would only live another 6 months after the surgery, and to just stick with palliative care.
They gave Alex a shot of antibiotics, a shot for long term pain management, prednisolone tablets and a liquid antibiotic, along with an appointment to come back about a month later.
Over the memorial day weekend, I cleaned Alex's wound and administered his meds. Alex was still Alex though. He obviously wanted to live, so I began making phone calls. Eventually I got in touch with the Humane Society. It took week and a half to finally get in, but after looking at Alex's arm, their surgeon said that the arm was "not compatible with long term survival" and agreed to amputate it... in two weeks.
That was the longest two weeks of my life.
Every day that thing on his elbow grew bigger and bigger. In the final week, it started to split open. It looked like something out of a horror movie. The outer layer of skin died off and eventually I had to cut the hard chunk of dried flesh off with scissors. Fortunately the antibiotics prescribed by the second vet kept the wound site free from infection.
And through all of this, Alex was still Alex. He just kept on living his life like nothing was wrong. Even with that thing on his arm, he still walked normal, climbed up and down the stairs, jumped on the bed, table, dresser, et cetera. Part of me knew this cat was gonna make it, but part of me was scared that his arm was going to go septic and Alex would die.
I felt relieved on the day of the surgery. We made it through to this day! Alex would be a tripod, but he was going to live! I dropped Alex off at the Human Society and went to work expecting to pick him up between 4:00 pm and 5:00 pm.
My phone rang a little before noon. The voice on the other end informed me that the surgery had gone fine, and they didn't notice anything wrong during the procedure, but in the recovery room, Alex's heart rate began to drop, he went non-responsive, and his pupils dilated. The surgeon explained that sometimes a blood clot will break free during the surgery and make its way into the brain. Alex had had a stroke. There was nothing more they could do.
Moments later, Alex died.
Usually I show off pictures of Gail here, (she's doing find by the way). Gail is a fun dog who loves to constantly run and play, but Alex was the one that I could really count on for affection. He would hop up on my chest when I was resting in my recliner and purr. He would be there at the door to greet me when I came home. He would keep me company when I pooped. He would wake me in the morning, and insist I gave him a thorough petting before I went to sleep at night. He talked to me with his incessant meows, and made sure I never left the house without filling the food and water bowls. Alex loved to get his "full kitty massage" complete with belly rubs, and he was the kind of cat that would walk up and headbutt me to let me know I was his as much as he was mine.
Flush Twice has been around since May of 2003. It started out as a JOTD (Joke of the Day) website. New jokes were published every weekday. Over the years, good jokes were increasingly hard to come by, and eventually they got so rare that I just stopped trying to publish them.
Since 2004 there has also been an eponymous comic. I still occasionally publish a new one on Saturdays. It’s also rare anymore, but sometimes it happens.
Here lately I’ve been posting a “Link of the Day”. For the time being, I will be featuring a new website from my enormous collection of bookmarked websites every weekday. None of it is solicited promotions, and no one is paying me to feature their site. These are just websites that at one time I thought were interesting enough to add to my bookmarks folder.
I highly encourage using some kind of ad blocking extension before clicking on any of these links. You’ll also hear me say this phrase a lot about these posts: “They can’t all be winners.” But it’s better than just leaving the site abandoned.
The jokes were generously provided by friends and visitors such as yourself. I want to express my eternal thanks to everyone over the years who helped contribute to the collection.
So what is it that makes a joke funny?
It all boils down to a sudden shift in perception. The story starts you thinking one way, then the punchline turns that thinking on its ear. The art of the joke is to craft a short story that isn’t overly contrived, then deliver a punchline that suddenly shifts your perception about the story you were being told.
Many of the jokes on this site are offensive, and I make no apologies for it. Offensive jokes work by making the reader uncomfortable through the use of a taboo subject thus enhancing the underlying humor. Without the offensive element, the joke would simply not be as funny.
