A cowboy walked into a drugstore one evening, went down an aisle and came back to the register. He tossed a three pack of condoms on the counter and the clerk rang it up.
As she was handing him his change she asked, “Would you like a bag with that, sir?”
“Naw, don’t think I do,” the man said with a drawl. “This one’s kinda purty.”
Glenn saw a tight blonde sitting all alone at the bar.
He sat next to her and after a few drinks he noticed that she didn’t seem the least bit affected by the alcohol.
Curious about this, Glenn asked, “How many drinks does it take to get you dizzy?”
She frowned and gave Glenn a dirty look, but then she shook her head and said, “Oh, usually about four or five, but my name is Sandy. Don’t ever call me Dizzy!”
“I’m in love with one of my sheep,” the nervous young man told his psychiatrist.
“Nothing to worry about,” the psychiatrist consoled. “Many people are fond of animals. As a matter of fact, my wife and I have a dog we are very attached to.”
“But, doctor,” continued the troubled patient, “I feel physically attracted to my sheep.”
“Hmmm,” observed the doctor. “Is it male or female?”
“Female, of course!” the man replied curtly. “What do you think I am, GAY?”
So I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but I’ve occasionally torrented TV shows, and less often movies. Many times I’ve used Kodi to watch stuff I can’t get on Netflix or Amazon Prime video, but let’s face it: There’s no way in hell I will ever subscribe to cable or dish. While I am kind of leaning towards Sling TV (owned by Dish BTW), until they support Linux, they can suck a bag of dicks.
So in order to watch whatever, whenever… Well… Now don’t get me wrong! I’m not condoning any of this! but sometimes I’d dip my toe into legally murky waters. And well… I got caught… Sort of. You may have gotten one yourself. It’s an e-mail from your ISP letting you know that: “It has been brought to our attention that your Internet service was recently used to improperly copy or share copyrighted content such as music, movies, video or software using Peer-to-Peer or Torrenting software.”
They also were kind enough to inform me that: “We have not shared any information about you with the content owner, nor will we unless we receive a subpoena or are otherwise required to do so by law or if you choose to file a counter-notification.” So that right there has set me off. First of all, they didn’t even mention what “content” or when it happened, and if I counter it, they’re going to snitch on me! Thanks assholes!
OK, so maybe calling them assholes is a bit harsh. At least they’re not turning me over to the Feds. It’s not about the movies or TV shows. Most nights I’m watching videos on mBlip. It’s about my privacy. So now I’m joining the ranks of internet users who feel uncomfortable that their internet history is being cataloged by the bureaucrats.
I signed up for a VPN.
And now for that tasty morsel of crow I was talking about: All those server farms I’ve been zealously blocking on Flush Twice? Well… it looks like I’m going to have to unblock them… Yeah… {sigh} I’m going to have to edit the ol’ htaccess file and let the scum of the earth scrape my site like a priest in an unsupervised daycare.
Who knows… Maybe we’ll start to see the visitor numbers go up because people who wanted to protect their online privacy couldn’t get through my “deny from” list.
If you were previously unable to check out this site because you have to use a VPN, well, I understand now. Welcome to Flush Twice.
Two older, successful businessmen met at a resort.
One who had recently retired was describing his life, “I get up late in the morning, have a light breakfast and then I lie down on my veranda for a few hours and relax. In the afternoon I go inside for lunch, have a great salad, fruits and cold fish, then I spend the rest of the afternoon boating or playing golf or tennis. When it starts to get dark I have a great dinner with the finest wines. I smoke a Cuban cigar. Then I go lie on my veranda again.”
The other gentleman acknowledges that this is a life to be envied.
Later he reported the conversation to his wife.
She asked, “What’s his wife’s name?”
Her husband said, “I’m not sure, but I think it’s Veranda.”
The Secretary came in late for work the third day in a row.
The boss called her into his office and said, “Now look Sharon, I know we had a wild fling for a while, but that’s over. I expect you to conduct yourself like any other employee around here. Who told you that you could come and go as you please around here?”
Sharon simply smiled, lit up a cigarette, and while exhaling said, “My lawyer.”
A guy was chatting up a lady in a night club. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“Haven’t you got a girlfriend?” she replied. “Guys like you always have girlfriends.”
“No, sadly we broke up just over a month ago.” he assured her.
“Oh I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, “Go on then, I’ll have a white wine please.”
After few drinks, a kiss, and a cuddle, they headed off back to her place for an evening of passionate sex.
While he was putting his clothes back on she said, “So, you’re a nice guy, good looking, and pretty amazing in bed. Can I ask why on earth did you split up with your girlfriend?”
As he slipped out the door he said, “My wife found out.”
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.