Bubba didn’t know what the sign in the store window meant when he concocted an idea.
The sign said “Suits $5.00 each, Shirts $2.00 each, Trousers $2.50 per pair”.
Bubba says to his pal, “Billy Ray, Look! We could buy a whole lot of those, and when we get back to Arkansas, we could make a fortune. Now when we go into the shop, you be quiet, okay? Just let me do all the talking cause if they hear our accent, they might not be nice to us. I’ll speak in my best Texas drawl.”
They go in and Bubba says, “I’ll take 50 suits at $5.00 each, 100 shirts at $2.00 each, and 50 pairs of trousers at $2.50 each. I’ll back up my pickup and ……”
The owner of the shop interrupts, “You’re from Arkansas, aren’t you?”
“Well…yes,” says a surprised Bubba. “How come you know that?”
The owner says, “This is a dry cleaners.”
Two engineering students meet on campus one day. The first engineer calls out to the other, “Hey nice bike! Where did you get it?”
“Well,” replies the other, “I was walking to class the other day when this pretty, young coed rides up on this bike. She jumps off, takes off all of her clothes, and says ‘You can have anything you want!'”
“Good choice,” says the first, “her clothes wouldn’t have fit you anyway.”
A recent college graduate got hired by the human-development center of a large corporation to train the employees in proper dress code and etiquette.
One day as she was stepping onto the elevator, a man who was casually dressed in jeans and a golf shirt got on with her.
“Dressed a little casually today, aren’t we?” she said in a scolding tone.
“That’s one of the benefits of owning the company,” the man replied with a grin.
Watching her mother as she tried on her new fur coat, her daughter, Angie said, “Mom, do you realize some poor dumb beast suffered so you could have that?”
The mother indignantly replied, “Angie, how dare you talk about your father like that!”
“Cash, check or charge?” I asked, after folding items the woman wished to purchase. As she fumbled for her wallet I noticed a remote control for a television set in her purse.
“So, do you always carry your TV remote?” I asked.
“No,” she replied, “but my husband refused to come shopping with me, and I figured this was the most evil thing I could do to him legally.”
A successful businessman flew to Vegas for the weekend to gamble. He lost his shirt, and had nothing left but a quarter and the second half of his round-trip ticket — If he could just get to the airport he could get himself home. So he went out to the front of the casino where there was a cab waiting. He got in and explained his situation to the cabby. He promised to send the driver money from home, he offered him his credit card numbers, his drivers license number, his address, etc. but to no avail.
The cabby said, “If you don’t have fifteen dollars, get the hell out of my cab!” So the businessman was forced to hitch-hike to the airport and was barely in time to catch his flight.
One year later the businessman, having worked long and hard to regain his financial success, returned to Vegas and this time he won big. Feeling pretty good about himself, he went out to the front of the casino to get a cab ride back to the airport. Well who should he see out there, at the end of a long line of cabs, but his old buddy who had refused to give him a ride when he was down on his luck. The businessman thought for a moment about how he could make the guy pay for his lack of charity, and he hit on a plan.
The businessman got in the first cab in the line, “How much for a ride to the airport,” he asked? “Fifteen bucks,” came the reply. “And how much for you to give me a blow job on the way?” “What?! Get the hell out of my cab.”
The businessman got into the back of each cab in the long line and asked the same questions, with the same result. When he got to his old friend at the back of the line, he got in and asked “How much for a ride to the airport?”
The cabby replied “fifteen bucks.”
The businessman said “OK” and off they went.
Then, as they drove slowly past the long line of cabs the businessman gave a big smile and thumbs up sign to each driver.
The was a farmer who raised watermelons. He was doing pretty well but he was disturbed by some local kids who would sneak into his watermelon patch at night and eat watermelons. . .
After some careful thought he came up with a clever idea that he thought would scare the kids away for sure. So he made up a sign and posted it in the field. The next day the kids showed up and they saw his sign: “Warning, one of the watermelons in this field has been injected with cyanide.”
Well the kids were bright and not about to risk another watermelon. They ran off, made up their own sign and posted it next to the sign that the farmer made.
The next day the farmer showed up to look over the field and he noticed to his delight that no watermelons are missing. He was perplexed, however, by a sign next to his. He drove his tractor up to the sign which read: “Now there are two!”
A little boy got lost at the YMCA and found himself in the women’s locker room…
When he was spotted, the room burst into shrieks, with ladies grabbing towels and running for cover.
The little boy watched in amazement and then asked, “What’s the matter haven’t you ever seen a little boy before?”
Bob joins a very exclusive nudist colony. On his first day he takes off his clothes and starts wandering around. A gorgeous petite blonde walks by him and the man immediately gets an erection. The woman notices his erection, comes over to him grinning sweetly and says, “Sir, did you call for me?
“Bob replies, “No, what do you mean?”She says, “You must be new here; let me explain. It’s a rule that if I give you an erection, it implies you called for me.” Smiling, she then leads him to the side of a pool, lays down, and happily lets him have his way with her.
Bob continues exploring the facilities. He enters a sauna, sits down, and farts. Within a few moments a huge, horribly corpulent, hairy man with a firm erection lumbers out of the steam towards him. The Huge Man says, “Sir, did you call for me?” Bob says, “No, what do you mean?”
“You must be new here, it is a rule that when you fart, it implies you called for me.” The huge man then easily spins Bob around, bends him over the bench and sodomizes him.
Bob rushes back to the colony office. He is greeted by the smiling, naked receptionist. “May I help you?”
Bob says, “Here is your card and key back. You can keep the $500 membership fee.” “But Sir, you’ve only been here a couple of hours; you only saw a small fraction of our facilities…””Listen lady, I am 67 years old. I get a hard-on once a month—but I fart 15 times a day!”
Two parents take their son on a vacation and go to a nude beach. The father goes for a walk on the beach and the son goes and plays in the water. The son comes running up to his mom and says, “Mommy, I saw ladies with boobies a lot bigger than yours!”
The mom says, “The bigger they are, the dumber they are.” So he goes back to play. Several minutes later, he comes running back and says, “Mommy, I saw men with dingers a lot bigger than Daddy’s!”
The mom says, “The bigger they are, the dumber they are.” Once again the son goes back to play.
A short time later, he comes running back and says, “Mommy, I just saw Daddy talking to the dumbest lady I ever saw, and the more and more he talked, the dumber and dumber he got!”
Little Johnny’s preschool class went on a field trip to the fire station. The firefighter giving the presentation held up a smoke detector and asked the class: “Does anyone know what this is?”
Little Johnny’s hand shot up and the firefighter called on him.
Little Johnny replied: “That’s how Mommy knows supper is ready!”
When the waitress in a New York City restaurant brought him the soup du jour, the Englishman was a bit dismayed. “Good heavens,” he said, “what is this?”
“Why, it’s bean soup,” she replied.
“I don’t care what it has been,” he sputtered. “What is it now?”
Ghost Poo:
You know you’ve pooed. There’s poo on the toilet paper, but not in the
toilet. Where is it?
Teflon Poo:
So slick and easy you don’t even feel it. No trace of poo on the
toilet paper. You have to look in the toilet to be sure you did it.
Goo Poo:
This has the consistency of hot tar. You wipe twelve times and you
still don’t come clean. You end up putting toilet paper in your
underwear so you don’t soil it. Permanent skid marks are left in the
toilet.
Second Thoughts Poo:
You’re all done wiping and about to stand up when you realize…
there’s more to come.
Pop a Vein in Your Forehead Poo:
This is the kind of poo that killed Elvis. It doesn’t want to come out
until you’re all sweaty, trembling, and purple from straining so hard.
Weight Watchers Poo:
You poo so much you lose several pounds.
Right Now Poo:
You’d better be within thirty seconds of a toilet. You burn rubber to
get there and it usually gets its head out before you can get your
pants down.
King Kong Poo:
This one is so big you think it won’t go down the toilet unless you
break it into smaller chunks. A wire coat hanger usually works well.
This kind of poo usually happens when you’re at someone else’s house.
Cork Poo:
Also known as “floaters.” Even after the third flush it’s still there,
floating in the bowl. My God! How do I get rid of it?
Wet Cheeks Poo:
This poo hits the water sideways and makes a bigger splash than the
launching of the QE2, soaking your starfish.
Wish Poo:
You sit there all cramped up and fart a few times, but no poo.
Cement Block Poo:
You wish you’d got a spinal block before you pooed.
Snake Poo:
This poo is fairly soft, about as thick as your thumb and at least
three feet long.
Morning After Poo:
Happens the day after the night before. Normally your poo doesn’t
smell that bad, but THIS one… Usually you’re at someone else’s house
(normally a girl you’re trying to impress) and they’re waiting outside
to use the bathroom.
Mexican Food Poo:
Also called “screamers.” You know it’s safe to eat again when your bum
stops burning.
Boo Hoo Poo:
Makes you cry with pain and wonder whether your should risk the
stitches or go for the fuller figure.
Mary left to go to her job as a waitress at the local bar on New Year’s eve. On her way there she dropped a coin in a beggar’s cup. The beggar transformed into a magical genie and said, “At the stroke of midnight you will be granted one wish. Use it wisely.” The genie then vanished into a puff of smoke.
Slightly shaken, Mary continued on her way. When she arrived the bar was very noisy and filled with a lot of men, but very few women. She also noticed that almost all of them had on their wedding rings. “How sad,” she thought, “that these men are not home with their wives to celebrate the New Year.
As she waited on the tables she grew more and more disappointed that they were out celebrating without their wives. As the clock struck midnight she made her wish, “I wish all these men were standing next to the one person who makes their miserable existence bearable!”
The bartender was immediately crushed to death.
An optimist stays up to see the New Year in. A pessimist waits to make sure the old one leaves. –Bill Vaughan
So who here wants to play a game of rape?
No? That’s the spirit!
I called that Rape Advice Line earlier today.
Unfortunately, it’s only for victims.
If you have sex with a prostitute without her permission, is it rape… or shoplifting?
Yesterday, I told my coworker a joke about rape and he said, “If you think making jokes about rape is funny then you’re wrong. My wife got raped and trust me, it’s not funny.”
Feeling slightly ashamed, I said, “Sorry. When did this happen?”
“Last week,” he replied.
I paused for a moment and asked, “Behind the bus station?”
He said, “Yeah. Why?”
“Er… no reason.”
When people ask me what I do, I tell them I test rape alarms.
It sounds better than saying I’m a rapist.
Two white guys were walking past a Police Station.
A big poster at the front reads “Two black men wanted for rape!”
One guy turns to the other and says “Those bastards always get the best jobs”.
Me and six friends were sitting in a room; we got onto the subject of rape.
The only girl in the room said, “I’ve often wondered if I’m strong enough to stop someone trying to rape me.”
Turns out she’s not.
How do you stop a rape?
SAY YES!
What has eight legs and makes women scream?
Gang rape!
I asked my girlfriend if she wanted to hear my latest rape joke.
She said no, but I just went ahead and told her anyway.
In an argument with my girlfriend yesterday, she shouted at me:
“Stop making jokes about rape! How do you think the women feel?
“Depends on the girth,” was probably not the best response.
A woman runs into a police station shouting, “Grape! Grape!”
The cop says, “Don’t you mean rape, ma’am?”
The woman says, “No, there were bunch of them!”
Last night I stopped a woman in the park and said, “Give me your purse before I rape you.”
She instantly handed me her purse and said, “Take it.”
I said, “Thanks for co-operating, sometimes after I’ve raped a woman I feel guilty about taking her purse.”
If you ever want to get away with rape, simply hire a wolf outfit from a fancy dress shop.
On the first night tap on a young girl’s window, and before her parents come, run away and hide.
On the second night, repeat.
On the third night, STRIKE – no one will ever believe her.
I am a male prostitute.
I say that, but really I just rape women and steal their money.
What do you do after you rape a 12 year old deaf dumb and blind girl?
Brake her fingers so she cant tell her mom.
A man escapes from prison where he has been for 15 years. He breaks into a house to look for money and guns and finds a young couple in bed. He orders the guy out of bed and ties him to a chair, while tying the girl to the bed he gets on top of her, kisses her neck, then gets up and goes into the bathroom. While he’s in there, the husband tells his wife: “Listen, this guy’s an escaped convict, look at his clothes! He probably spent lots of time in jail and hasn’t seen a woman in years. I saw how he kissed your neck.” If he wants sex, don’t resist, don’t complain, do whatever he tells you. Satisfy him no matter how much he nauseates you. This guy is probably very dangerous. If he gets angry, he’ll k*ll us. Be strong, honey. I love you.” To which his wife responds: “He wasn’t kissing my neck. He was whispering in my ear. He told me he was gay, thought you were cute, and asked me if we had any Vaseline. I told him it was in the bathroom. Be strong honey. I love you too!”
A trio of old veterans were bragging about the heroic exploits of their ancestors one afternoon down at the VFW hall. “My great grandfather, at age 13,” one declared proudly, “was a drummer boy at Shiloh.”
“Mine,” boasts another, “went down with Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn.”
“I’m the only soldier in my family,” confessed vet number three, “but if my great grandfather was living today he’d be the most famous man in the world.”
“Really? What’d he do?” his friends wanted to know. “Nothing much. But he would be 165 years old.”
True story! My contract is up, and I’m finally leaving the military. I’ve met a lot of really excellent people during my time as a soldier. Here is a short list of the things my Officers and NCO’s have had to say about me:
I would not breed from this soldier.
This soldier is really not so much of a has-been, but more of a definitely won’t-be.
When he opens his mouth, it seems that this is only to change whichever foot was previously in there.
He has carried out each and every one of his duties to his entire satisfaction.
He would be out of his depth in a puddle.
Technically sound, but socially impossible.
This soldier reminds me very much of a gyroscope – always spinning around at a frantic pace, but not really going anywhere.
This soldier has delusions of adequacy.
Since my last report he has reached rock bottom, and has started to dig.
He sets low personal standards and then consistently fails to achieve them.
He has the wisdom of youth, and the energy of old age.
This soldier should go far – and the sooner he starts, the better.
Works well when under constant supervision and cornered like a rat in a trap
This man is depriving a village somewhere of an idiot.
A wife is going into labor at the hospital with her husband close by. The doctors comes in and says “we have a brand new device just invented by world class scientists that allows the father of a child to take some of the mother’s pain while she’s giving birth.”
The doctor asks if the husband is interested and he replies, “I would like to be the first to use this device. I want my wife to be as comfortable as possible.”
The wife’s labor intensifies and she begins to writhe in distress, so the husband asks for 20% of the pain. The doctor hooks up the device and amazingly the wife becomes more calm and the writhing stops. The husband says, “Wow this is nothing doc I can take more, go ahead and crank it up to 50%, I want my wife to be even more comfortable.”
So the doctor accepts his request and gives the husband half of the pain. Almost instantly the wife stops crying out in pain and is giving birth in near silence. The husband is satisfied but notices she is still in some pain so he says, “I can’t go on seeing her uncomfortable, go ahead and give me 100% I can take it.”
The doctor reluctantly agrees and transfers all the the wife’s pain to the husband. The husband is once again unimpressed by the pain and says, ” Wow this is nothing. I knew women exaggerated childbirth, I hardly feel anything.”
Not long after the couple gives birth to a baby boy. They stay overnight for tests and are released from the hospital the next day. They arrive home with their new bundle of joy and find the mailman dead on the front porch.
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.
