I received a phone call from a gorgeous ex-girlfriend who this morning called ‘out-of-the-blue’ to see if I was still around.
We lost track of time, chatting about the wild, romantic times we used to enjoy together.
I couldn’t believe it when she asked if I’d be interested in meeting up and rekindling a little of that “old magic”.
“Wow!” I was flabbergasted..
“I don’t know if I could keep pace with you now”, I said, “I’m a bit older and a bit greyer and balder than when you last saw me. Plus I don’t really have the energy I used to have.”
She just giggled and said she was sure I would “rise to the challenge”.
“Yeah.” I said. “Just so long as you don’t mind a waistline that’s a few inches wider these days! Not to mention my total lack of muscle tone…everything is sagging, my teeth are a bit yellowed and I am developing jowls like a Great Dane!”
She laughed and told me to stop being so silly.
She teased me saying that tubby, gray haired, older men were cute, and she was sure I would still be a great lover.
Anyway, she giggled and said, “I’ve put on a few pounds myself!”
So I told her to fuck off.
…And Young Love
A State Trooper was patrolling late at night off the main highway.
He sees a couple in a car, with the interior light brightly glowing. He carefully approaches the car to get a closer look. Then he sees a young man behind the wheel, reading a computer magazine. He also immediately notices a young woman in the rear seat, filing her fingernails. Puzzled by this surprising situation, the trooper walks to the car and gently raps on the driver’s window.
The young man lowers his window, “Yes, Officer?”
The trooper asks, “What are you doing?”
The young man says, “I’m reading a magazine, sir.”
Pointing toward the young woman in the back seat the trooper says, “What is she doing?”
The young man shrugs, “I think she’s just filing her fingernails, officer.”
Now, the trooper is totally confused. A young couple alone in a car on a lover’s lane at night and nothing indecent is happening? “How old are you, young man?” Inquired the officer.
“I’m 22, sir,” he replied.
“And what’s her age?” the officer demanded.
The young man looks at his watch and replied, “She’ll be 18 in 11 minutes.”
I suppose there are worse things than dating an older person. Being the older person is one example… In about a month and a half I’ll officially be in the land of black balloons. I’m still going to lie about my age though. I’ll just tell people I’m in my late twenties.
A man walks out to the street and catches a taxi just going by. He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, “Perfect timing. You’re just like Frank.”
Passenger: “Who?”
Cabbie: “Frank Feldman. He’s a guy who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happen like that to Frank Feldman every single time.”
Passenger: “There are always a few clouds over everybody.”
Cabbie: “Not Frank Feldman. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy.”
Passenger: “Sounds like he was something really special.”
Cabbie: “There’s more. He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody’s birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman, he could do everything right.”
Passenger: “Wow. Some guy then.”
Cabbie: “He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams. Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good. He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too. He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman.”
Passenger: “An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?”
Cabbie: “Well, I never actually met Frank. He died. I’m married to his fuckin’ widow.”
A long time ago, there used to be this channel on cable that endlessly scrolled news stories in large easy to read letters while playing various music. It had the time and weather at the top, and additional crawl at the bottom. Why hasn’t anyone made a website based on this concept yet?
Don’t kid yourself. There isn’t anything on the net that someone else hasn’t thought of before you. They probably said it better than you too. If you’re lucky, you might come up with something clever enough to make people think your personality is far more interesting and tolerable than it actually is in real life.
A couple was celebrating their golden wedding anniversary. Their domestic tranquility had long been the talk of the town. A local newspaper reporter was inquiring as to the secret of their long and happy marriage.
“Well, it dates back to our honeymoon,” explained the man.
“We visited the Grand Canyon and took a trip down to the bottom on the canyon by pack mule. We hadn’t gone too far when my wife’s mule stumbled.
My wife quietly said, ‘That’s once.’
We proceeded a little further and the mule stumbled again.
Once more my wife quietly said, ‘That twice.’
We hadn’t gone a half- mile when the mule stumbled the third time.
My wife quietly removed a revolver from her pocket and shot the mule dead.
I started to protest over her treatment of the mule when she looked at me and quietly said ‘That’s once.'”
A Doctor was addressing a large audience in Tampa . ‘The material we put into our stomachs is enough to have killed most of us sitting here, years ago. Red meat is awful. Soft drinks corrode your stomach lining… Chinese food is loaded with MSG. High fat diets can be disastrous, and none of us realizes the long-term harm caused by the germs in our drinking water.. However, there is one thing that is the most dangerous of all and we all have eaten, or will eat it. Can anyone here tell me what food it is that causes the most grief and suffering for years after eating it?’ After several seconds of quiet, a 75-year-old man in the front row raised his hand, and softly said, ‘Wedding Cake.’
Bob, a 70-year-old, extremely wealthy widower, shows up at the Country Club with a breathtakingly beautiful and very sexy 25-year-old blonde-haired woman who knocks everyone’s socks off with her yon dutiful sex appeal and charm and who hangs over Bob’s arm and listens intently to his every word. His buddies at the club are all aghast. At the very first chance, they corner him and ask, ‘Bob, how’d you get the trophy girlfriend?’ Bob replies, ‘Girlfriend? She’s my wife!’ They are knocked over, but continue to ask.. ‘So, how’d you persuade her to marry you?’ ‘I lied about my age’, Bob replies. ‘What, did you tell her you were only 50?’ Bob smiles and says, ‘No, I told her I was 90.’
Groups of Americans were traveling by tour bus through Holland . As they stopped at a cheese farm, a young guide led them through the process of cheese making, explaining that goat’s milk was used. She showed the group a lovely hillside where many goats were grazing. ‘These’ she explained, ‘Are the older goats put out to pasture when they no longer produce.’ She then asked, ‘What do you do in America with your old goats?’ A spry old gentleman answered, ‘They send us on bus tours!
A guy decides to go to his high school’s 50 year reunion. He hasn’t seen anyone since their 25 year reunion and is very interested to see who might show up. When he gets there he runs into his old high school sweetheart. They sit down at a table and talk about the past 25 years. “How have you been?” he asks. “Just fine, just fine,” she replies. “Although I do have some good news and bad news for you.” “Bad news first please.” “Well, I had to have a hysterectomy a few years back.” “Oh, that’s terrible,” he says. “What’s the good news?” She says, “The doctor found your old high school ring you thought lost.”
Phil was at the bar one night, and complained about having a headache. “I’ve got a perfect cure for a headache,” said his buddy Trevor. “Whenever I have a headache I head home and I get my wife to give me a long, slow, wet blow job. Never fails.” A week went by and they were in the bar again, talking. “Did you try my headache cure,” asked Trevor. “Yeah,” said Phil, “Worked great! I had no idea how nice your house was, too!”
Sister Mary Ann worked for a home health agency. One day she was out making her rounds visiting home-bound patients when she ran out of gas. As luck would have it, a gasoline station was just a block away. She walked to the station to borrow their gas can and buy some gas. The attendant told her that the only gas can he owned had been loaned out. Sister Mary Ann walked back to her car and looked for something in her car that she could fill with gas. Always resourceful, she spotted a bedpan she was taking to the patient and carried it back to the station. She filled it with gasoline and carried it to her car. As she was pouring the gas into her tank, two Baptists watched from across the street. The first one turned to the other and said, “If it starts, I’m turning Catholic!”
So it’s been a while since I posted one of these things. I bet some of you were a little worried. You were probably thinking, “Gosh, I sure hope nothing serious happened to good ol’ Dieter.” Oh who am I kidding. If it weren’t for Ginger Jokes ranking so high on Google, no one would know this site even existed.
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.
The house feels so empty without him now.
I miss you Alex,
-f2x
July 2025
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GET THE PLUNGER!
What is Flush Twice?
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.
