A man, a sheep, and a dog were the only survivors of a terrible shipwreck. They found themselves stranded on a desert island.
After being there a while, they got into the habit of going to the beach every evening to watch the sun set. One particular evening, the sky was a fiery red with beautiful cirrus clouds, the breeze was warm and gentle; a perfect night for romance.
As the days went by, the sheep started looking better and better to the lonely man until one evening, when he leaned over to the sheep and put his arm around it. The dog got extremely jealous, and growled fiercely until the man took his arm from around the sheep. After that, the three of them continued to enjoy the sunsets together, but there was to be no more cuddling.
A few weeks passed by and, lo and behold, there was another shipwreck. The only survivor was a beautiful young woman, the most beautiful woman the man had ever seen.
Trying to console her, the man introduced her to their evening beach ritual. It was another beautiful evening: red sky, cirrus clouds, a warm and gentle breeze; perfect for a night of romance.
Pretty soon, the man started to get “those feelings” again. He fought them as long as he could, but he finally gave in and leaned over to the young woman, cautiously, and whispered in her ear…. “Would you mind taking the dog for a walk?”
A photographer from a news organization was assigned to cover the fires in California.
His boss wanted pictures of the heroic work of the fire fighters as they battled the blaze but when the photographer arrived, he realized that the smoke was too thick. It would be impossible for him to photograph anything from ground level.
He requested permission to rent a plane and take photos from the air. His request was approved and arrangements were made. The photographer was told to report to a nearby airport where a plane would be waiting for him.
He arrived at the airport and saw a plane warming up near the gate. He jumped in with his bag and shouted, “Let’s go!”
The pilot swung the little plane into the wind, and within minutes they were in the air. The photographer said, “Fly over the park and make two or three low passes so I can take some pictures.”
“Why?” asked the pilot.
“Because I am a photographer,” he responded, “and photographers take photographs.”
The pilot was silent for a moment. Finally he stammered, “You mean you’re not the flight instructor?”
John died and was being given a tour of Heaven. St. Peter explained that Heaven not only had room enough for everybody, but that there were rooms for everybody as well.
He opened the first door, explaining, “This is the Catholic room,” and inside John could see a large group of people kneeling and saying Hail Mary.
The next room was a noisy one with shouts of “Amen!” and “Hallelujah!” could be heard through the door. “The Baptist room,” explained Peter.
The third room was silent, filled with contemplative souls. “Presbyterians,” Peter said.
When they came to the fourth room, Peter stopped John. “Shhh!” he said. “Be very quiet. These are the Lutherans, and they don’t think anybody else is here.”
No matter what you do, some people will never be happy.
For a few years now, my dad (who leans further to the right than Pinochet) has been using store bought almond milk. His reasoning was that he could buy it in bulk at Costco, and it stayed fresh much longer. I get that. Neither one of us are big milk drinkers but, when you need milk, you need it. After a couple weeks in the fridge, regular cow’s milk will wrinkle your nose, but an unopened carton of almond milk will taste just fine. Even if the flavor tends to be a little “woody”, almond milk makes good smoothies and works in most cooking and baking recipes.
Of course neither my dad nor I are lactose intolerant. We are neither environmental hipsters, nor do we give a rats ass about being politically correct, but pragmatism is a conservative quality that we highly prize. Money doesn’t grow on trees, so when you find a better deal, go with it.
And here I was thinking it’s one less thing that some neerdowell would attack me for, but I was wrong. Apparently “almond milk” is terrible for the environment. It’s also nutritionally deficient, contains chemical additives, and probably makes the baby jebus cry. Seriously?! WTF!
Of course if you take even a moment to fact check, you’ll see that none of the criticisms are really worth the time it took to fact check. Almond milk naturally contains less nutrition than cows milk, but so what? It still contains more nutrition than water. So now many brands contain chemical additives because people wanted more nutrition and flavor. It’s not like we don’t already fortify a shit-ton of foods anyway, but god forbid we put anything extra in a packaged product. Bad for the environment?! Now they’re bitching because the trees are bad because the farmers have to water them! So wake up sheeple! Trees are bad for the environment now!
Oh, and let’s not forget about those poor bees they bring in to pollinate the trees. They eventually die because the area contains pesticides. While that’s true, the fact is they buy the bees from bee keepers in other parts of the country who grow bee colonies specifically for exporting. Basically, it’s not actually contributing to the issue of “colony collapse” that plagues honeybees around the world, but trying to explain why bee farming is a good thing to these morons is a waste of time and energy.
So is almond milk really that good? Meh… It’s nice if you need milk occasionally, but fresh cows milk does taste a little better IMHO. Is it bad for the environment? Compared to what? Let’s face it, human existence and everything connected to it is bad for the environment. If you’re so concerned about it, go kill yourself! I hear suicide is making a comeback these days. But almonds and almond milk aren’t any worse for the environment than your typical overzealous vegan.
Next thing you know they’ll be protesting vegeburgers. Oh wait… they already are.
Jerry passed a house with a little red light burning in front, so he stepped inside.
There was nothing in sight and nothing there but an empty bare hallway, with two doors reading, “Over 35” and “Under 35.”
He decided to be truthful and entered the door that said, “Over 35.”
Jerry found himself in another empty hallway, this one with two doors that read, “Over 8 inches” and “Under 8 inches.”
Truthful again, he went through the “Under 8 inches” door and found himself in another empty hall, with two more doors reading, “Once a night” and “Over 4 times a night.”
Still wanting to be truthful, Jerry entered the door marked “Once a night” and found himself back out on the street.
The moral of this story is: “Always tell the truth and you’ll never get screwed.”
Evelyn was suing the Northridge Medical Center after her husband went in for an operation which left him unable to have sex with her afterwards.
On the witness stand, Evelyn testified, “My husband Frank and I used to have an amazing sex life until he went into that hospital and had his operation. Now he’s completely lost interest in having sex with me, and it’s all because of those bastards!”
It seemed that the case was clearly in her favor until the surgeon who perform Frank’s surgery took the stand.
“Look,” said the exasperated surgeon, “all I did was remove Frank’s cataracts.”
Two old friends, Warren and Kenny, went on a fishing trip together. Because neither were especially avid fishermen, they rented all their equipment. They rented the reels and rods, the wading suits, the rowboat, and even a cabin in the woods. It was to be a fully immersive fishing experience.
On their first day fishing, they didn’t catch anything. The same thing happened on the second day, and again, they caught nothing on the third day. Finally on the last day of their vacation, Kenny and Warren managed to catch one small fish.
Both of the men were rather disappointed with their vacation, and on the drive home
Warren said to Kenny, “Do you realize that that one lousy fish we caught cost us over fifteen hundred bucks?”
Kenny’s eyes lit up and replied, “Wow! Then I guess it was a good thing we didn’t catch any more!”
Marc and Nancy signed up to participate in a study about the sex lives of married couples.
One of the sex researchers called about a recent survey that seemed to have a bit of a discrepancy. “In response to the question on frequency of intercourse, you answered ‘twice a week’. Is that correct?”
“That’s right,” said Marc.
“But it also says here that your wife, Nancy, is having intercourse several times a night. Is this some kind of mistake?” asked the researcher.
“No, it’s correct,” replied Marc, “and that’s how it’s going to stay until our second mortgage is paid off.”
Yesterday marked 10 years to the day of my mother's passing. Dad and I went out to dinner to pay homage in her memory. Like the decade before, I never would have dreamed we'd end up where we did.
I still maintain that somewhere along the way, I ended up in the "bad timeline". I'm not saying that things are all that bad, or that I regret my decisions. On the contrary, I'm where I am today in spite of my decisions. No matter what choices I could have made, this is where I was fated to be... and it's so unsatisfying.
On a lighter note
My comic is 20 years old this month! Think about it... 20 years ago I started putting pictures of stick figures up here in an attempt to dress up a rather boring hand coded html page. Seeing how it started and how it turned out is kind of neat. It has certainly gone through some dramatic changes from those original daily panels to my current sporadic offerings. I wish I could have combined the naive wit of my youth with my current "drawing" abilities. I've become far too jaded in my old age and it puts a damper on my creativity.
Of course looking back at some of my early work, I'm not so sure my "wit" was all that great either. The "art" was definitely bad... And now that I'm looking at it, the gags weren't really all that great either, but I was putting out a daily panel rather consistently for a while there.
Yeah, now that I think about it... those old comics sucked. As I'm glancing through them I feel myself cringing in disgust... Wow... Maybe I do have some regrets after all! Oh those wasted hours I spent navel gazing to come up with crap that makes Chis Chan look inspired! Thank god no one is actually reading this shit!
So to wrap it up...
Happy New Year, everybody! I'm really not sure how much stuff I'll add to Flush Twice in '24, but I'll get to it whenever I get the chance. Be sure to like and subscribe, and leave a comment down below if there's anything you'd like to see happen over the next 12 months.
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.