A man and his wife were having some problems at home and were giving each other the silent treatment. One evening the man realized that he would need his wife to wake him at 5.00 am for an early morning business flight for an out of state conference.
Not wanting to be the first to break the silence, he wrote on a piece of paper, “Please wake me at 5:00 am.”
The next morning the man woke up to discover it was after 9:00am, and that he had missed his flight. Furious, he was about to go and see why his wife did not wake him when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed.
The farm hand was walking past the barn when he heard some romantic music playing. Being curious, he looked inside to see the farmer dancing really slow while slipping one suspender off his shoulder and down his arm. As he removed the other suspender from his other shoulder, the farm hand realized that the farmer was doing a strip tease in front of his John Deere.
He asked, “Bubba, what in the world are you doing?”
The farmer said, “Well, Earl, I went to the doctor this morning and told him that me and the wife has been having trouble with our relationship. He told me that when I got home I should get cleaned up, put on some soft music, then do something sexy to a tractor.”
Meet Gail. She is a 9 week old black Labrador retriever born on August 4, 2019. I brought her home Tuesday evening after driving 120 miles to go get her. She is the successor to my beloved Grace, and my new baby girl.
So why Gail?
Well, my mother and her mother’s middle names were both Gail, so it is a bit of an homage. I also wanted a single syllable name that doesn’t really work if you try to “cutesy it up” by adding an “-ie” to the end. It always irked me when people called my dog “Gracie” right after I told them her name was Grace. She was named after my great grandmother. Have some respect!
Didn’t Grace pass away only a week ago? Isn’t it a bit soon?
No, absolutely not. One of the reason’s I got Gale was to help me cope with the loss of Grace. Another reason is because it didn’t take me long to realize just how lonely the house felt without her. Besides, the house is already set up to have a dog. There was never any doubt that I would get another dog, and I didn’t feel I needed to wait some arbitrary time.
So this is baby Gail. May her life be long, healthy, and full of happiness.
Kudos
OK, so now that I have a new hobby to return my mood back to normal, I just want to say thanks to Glenn for all the jokes he sends me. Also, thanks to George. Since things are starting to get back to normal for me, I’ll be mostly using his jokes this week. Of course everyone is encouraged to contribute using our submission page or emailing flush2x@gmail.com.
If your religion teaches you that dogs don’t go to heaven, then that doesn’t sound like any sort of heaven at all.
What’s the definition of a vagina?
The box a penis comes in.
Two little boys were arguing. “My father is better than your father!” “No, he’s not!” “My brother is better than your brother!” “No he’s not!” “My mother is better than your mother!” The second boy paused. “Well I guess you’ve got me there. My father says the same thing.”
What’s the definition of a transvestite?
He’s a guy who likes to eat, drink, and be Mary.
Tommy is a young boy, just potty trained. When he goes to the bathroom though, Tommy manages to hit everything but the toilet. So, his mom has to go in and clean up after him.
After two weeks, she has had enough, and takes Tommy to see the doctor.
After the examination, the doctor said, “His unit is too small. An old wives’ tale is to give him two slices of toast each morning, and his unit will grow so he can hold it and aim straight.”
The next morning Tommy jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen. There on the table, are twelve slices of toast.
“Mom!” Tommy yells. “The doctor said I only had to eat two slices of toast.”
“I know,” said his mother. “The other ten are for your father.”
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.
