I am still on the fence with my new job. Sometimes I think it will work out, but then things go badly, and I end up wishing I had stuck to my original plan of working as an Amazon delivery driver. It really is starting to feel like I am trapped in an abusive relationship.
Only I am not trapped. If this keeps up much longer, I will bail and go with my original plan A. The money is good at my new job, but it ain’t that good. Amazon drivers work ten hour days four days a week. Three days off every week? YES PLEASE!
Overtime is available too, so that’s also nice.
Kudos
Thanks again for leaving us jokes on the submission page. Eventually things will have to get back to normal… whatever normal is anymore.
Two Irish priests are off to the showers late one night. They undress and step into the showers before they realize there is no soap.
Father John says he has soap in his room and goes to get it, not bothering to dress.
He grabs two bars of soap, one in each hand , and heads back to the showers.
He is halfway down the hall when he sees three nuns heading his way Having no place to hide, he stands against the wall and freezes like he’s a statue.
The nuns stop and comment on how life-like he looks.
The first nun suddenly reaches out and pulls on his manhood.
Startled, he drops a bar of soap.
“Oh look” says the first nun, “it’s a soap dispenser”.
To test her theory the second nun also pulls on his manhood.
Sure enough, he drops the second bar of soap.
Now the third nun decides to have a go.
She pulls once, then twice and three times but nothing happens.
So she gives several more tugs, then yells…
“Holy Mary, Mother of God, HAND LOTION TOO!”
“Late again!” the third-grade teacher sternly said to little Robbie.
“It ain’t my fault this time, Miss Russell. You can blame this ‘un on my Daddy.The reason I’m three hours late is my Daddy sleeps naked!”
Miss Russell had taught grammar school for 30-some-odd years. Despite her mounting fears, she asked little Robbie what he meant by that.
Full of grins and mischief, and in the flower of his youth, little Robbie and trouble were old friends but he always told the truth.
“You see, Miss Russell, out at the farm we got this here low down fox. The last few nights, he done ate six hens. Last night, when Daddy heard a noise out in the chicken pen, he grabbed his double barreled shot gun and said to my Ma, “That fox is back again… I’m a gonna git him!”
“Stay back,” Daddy whispered to all us kids!
“My Daddy was naked as a jaybird — no boots, no pants, no shirt! To the hen house he crawled, just like an Injun on the snoop. Then, he stuck that double-barrelled 12-gauge shotgun through the window of the coop. As he stared into the darkness, with a fox on his mind, our old hound dog, Rip, had done gone and woke up and comes sneaking up behind Daddy. Then, as we all looked on, plumb helpless, old Rip done went and stuck his cold nose in my Daddy’s crack!”
“Miss Russell, we all been pluckin’ chickens since three o’clock this mornin!”
A little old lady was walking down the street dragging two large plastic garbage bags behind her. One of the bags was ripped and every once in awhile a $20 bill fell out onto the sidewalk.
Noticing this, a policeman stopped her, and said, “Ma’am, there are $20 bills falling out of that bag.”
“Oh, really? Darn it!” said the little old lady. “I’d better go back and see if I can find them. Thanks for telling me, Officer.”
“Well, now, not so fast,” said the cop. ” Where did you get all that money? You didn’t steal it, did you?”
“Oh, no, no”, said the old lady. “You see, my back yard is right next to a Golf course. A lot of Golfers come and pee through a knot hole in my fence, right into my flower garden. It used to really tick me off. Kills the flowers, you know. Then I thought, ‘why not make the best of it?’ So, now, I stand behind the fence by the knot hole, real quiet, with my hedge clippers. Every time some guy sticks his thing through my fence, I surprise him, grab hold of it and say, ‘O.K., buddy! Give me $20 or off it comes!’
“Well, that seems only fair,” said the cop, laughing .”OK. Good luck! Oh, by the way, what’s in the other bag?”
“Not everybody pays.”
God visited a woman and told her she must give up smoking, drinking, and unmarried sex if she wants to get into Heaven. The woman said she would try her best.
God visited the woman a week later to see how she was getting on.
“Not bad” said the woman, “I’ve given up smoking and drinking but then I bent over to look in the freezer, my boyfriend caught sight of my long slender legs in high heels, he pulled up my skirt, pulled my panties to one side and made love to me right then and there.”
“They don’t like that in Heaven”, said God.
The woman replied: “They’re not crazy about it at Costco either!
When I first brought Gail home from the farm, she threw up on me. For the next several months Gail would just about always get car sick within a mile or two. She was even unsure of how to get into the car, and I had to help her into the vehicle up until a few months ago.
The good news is that Gail is now an old pro at getting into the car. She can even hop up into the Envoy without any trouble. Keep in mind that Gail is only 1 year and 10 months old at this time. I’d say she is doing pretty good for a gal her age.
Practically all dogs love to go for car rides. They love sticking their head out the window, and they love the sights and smells. Even if you are merely going to the store, the dog loves it when you let them tag along for the ride.
Of course some people don’t like it when you take your dog out for a ride. They like to point out that the temperature in a car can soar to over 104°F in under 10 minutes even on mildly warm days. And yes, people who leave dogs in hot cars for an extended time should be held accountable, but it’s the 21st century you fucking overzealous busybodies.
Whether it is my Leaf or my Envoy, I can leave the AC running while I run into the store. It could be over 90°F outside, and the dog is doing just fine. In fact, my vehicle’s AC is probably cooler than my house. I’m cheap, and I keep my home thermostat on 80°F in the summer, meanwhile the car is blowing out an icy blast that can give my cheeks frostbite.
So before you get all judgmental because you see a dog left in a car, take a moment to notice if maybe, just maybe the the car is humming, and that maybe the AC is on, and the dog is fine. Take a moment to check for that before you get all sanctimonious in the parking lot, you attention seeking narcissistic bag of shit.
Cheers!
Kudos
Once again, thanks to Big D. I really appreciate that you’re keeping the jokes queued up for me on the submission page.
A man goes to join an order of monks.
The head Monk says to the man “This is a silent order. You will only be allowed to speak once, every 15 years.”
The man says “Ok” and so begins his time with the silent order.
15 years pass and the man is sitting in the refectory when the head monk approaches and says to the man “It has been fifteen years. What would you like to say brother?”.
The man responds, “The porridge could do with a little more sugar.” The head monk nods in acknowledgement and walks away.
Another 15 years pass and the head monk finds the man in the dormitory and says “Brother, it has been another 15 years. What is it that you wish to say?”.
“The bed sheets are a bit thin.” Replies the man. Again the head monk nods in acknowledgement.
Yet another 15 years pass and the head monk sees the man and asks “15 years have passed. Have you anything to say?”.
“Well actually I’ve been thinking about it and I’m leaving the order. It’s not really for me.” says the man.
“Yes, yes” sighs the head monk “I think that’s for the best. You’ve done nothing but fucking complain since you got here.”
The weight of the world became too much for Johnny so one day he left it all behind and headed for mountains to live alone and off grid. Johnny enjoyed his life for the most part but at times he missed being around people. At one of these low points a big burley mountain man stopped in and introduced himself . He lived a few miles up the mountain. He told Johnny of a party he was going to have and wanted Johnny to come. The man said now there will be food, probably singin and dancing. Johnny smiled thinking this is just what I need and said I like food and dancin. The man said maybe a little drinkin. Johnny said great I like to drink. The old man said sex, now there will probably quite a bit of sex goin on. Again Johnny smiled, I like havin sex. By the way what should I wear? The old man said “hell son don’t make much difference, just gonna be me and you!!!”
Two couples were playing poker one evening. Jim accidentally dropped some cards on the floor. When he bent down under the table to pick them up, he noticed Bob’s wife, Sue wasn’t wearing any underwear under her dress! Shocked by this, Jim upon trying to sit back up again, hit his head on the table and emerged red-faced.
Later, Jim went to the kitchen to get some refreshments. Bob’s wife followed and asked, ‘Did you see anything that you like under there?’ Surprised by her boldness, Jim admitted that, well indeed he did. She said, ‘Well, you can have it but it will cost you $500.’
After taking a minute or two to assess the financial and moral costs of this offer, Jim confirms that he is interested.
Sue told him that since her husband Bob worked Friday afternoons and Jim didn’t, Jim should be at her house around 2 p.m. Friday afternoon.
When Friday rolled around, Jim showed up at Bob’s house at 2 p..m. sharp and after paying Sue the agreed sum of $500 – they went to the bedroom and closed their transaction, as agreed.
Jim quickly dressed and left.
As usual, Bob came home from work at 6 p.m. And upon arriving, asked his wife:
‘Did Jim come by the house this afternoon?’
With a lump in her throat Sue answered ‘Why yes, he did stop by for a few minutes this afternoon.’ Her heart nearly skipped a beat when her husband curtly asked, ‘And did he give you $500?’
Sue, using her best poker face, replied, ‘Well, yes, in fact he did give me $500.’
Bob, with a satisfied look on his face, surprised his wife by saying, ‘He came by the office this morning and borrowed $500 from me. He promised he’d stop by our house this afternoon on his way home and pay me back.’
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.
