A state trooper pulled a car over for speeding. When the officer asked the driver why he was speeding, the driver said he was a juggler on his way to do a show and didn’t want to be late.

The trooper told the driver he was fascinated by juggling and said if the driver would do a little juggling for him, then he wouldn’t give him a ticket.

The juggler told the trooper he had sent his equipment ahead and didn’t have anything to juggle, so the trooper grabbed some flares from his trunk and asked if he could juggle them.

The juggler said he could, so the trooper lit five flares and handed them to the juggler.

While the man was juggling, another car pulled in behind the patrol car. The other car’s driver got out and watched the performance briefly, then went over to the patrol car, opened the rear door and got in.

Observing this, the trooper went over to the patrol car, opened the door, and asked what he thought he was doing.

The man replied, “You might as well take my ass to jail, because there ain’t no way I’m gonna pass that sobriety test.”

Business had slowed and rumors of layoffs were abound. The company director came down to inspect the office floor, and the floor managers hovered around him like a nervous entourage.

“Who’s in charge of personnel around here?” the director barked.

“That would be me,” said Karen sheepishly.

With his hands on his hips the director instructed, “I need you to get me a list of the department staff broken down by age and sex.”

Karen timidly responded, “Well, currently no one here has been broken down by age or sex. However, we do have a few alcoholics.”

Jill was talking to Mary about her growing list of ex-husbands. “So who was the most inexperienced man you’ve ever married?” asked Mary.

Without hesitating, Jill replied, “Oh that would be my first husband, Walter. You wouldn’t believe how inexperienced Walter was.”

“How bad was he?” asked Mary.

“It wasn’t that he was that bad,” said Jill, “but on our wedding night, he tried to inflate me.”

Three women were sitting around talking about their husbands’ sexual prowess.

The first said, “I think my husband’s like a championship golfer. He’s spent the last ten years perfecting his stroke.”

The second woman said, “My husband’s like the winner of the Indy 500. Every time we get into bed he gives me a couple hundred exciting laps.”

The third woman was silent until she was asked, “Tell us about your husband.”

She thought for a moment and said, “My husband’s like an Olympic gold medal winner in the 400 metres.”

“How so?” one of the others asked quizzically.

“He’s got his time down to around 43 seconds.”

Barb and Harry always dreamed of going to Hawaii, but Harry had trouble coming up with the money to do so. One day they came up with an idea. Each time they had sex, Harry would put a twenty into the piggy bank.

A few years later they decided to count the money for their dream vacation and broke open the piggy bank.

Harry looked at their savings and said: “That’s strange. I only remember putting a twenty in the piggy bank every time we had sex, but I see several fifties and quite a few hundreds.”

Barb replied, “Well, not everyone was as cheap as you.”

A man was talking to his wife one evening and said, “You know, I was thinking of going down to the bar tonight and entering that big dick contest.”

“Oh honey,” she exclaimed, “I don’t want you taking that out in public!”

“But sweet thing,” he said, “the prize is $200!”

“I don’t care,” she replied, “I don’t want you showing that thing to everybody.”

So he let the subject drop until the following night when his wife walked in on him in the bedroom, counting out two hundred dollars. “Did you go down and enter that big dick contest last night after I told you not to?”

“Please forgive me, sweetheart,” he said.

“You mean you took that thing out for everybody to see?” she said, as the tears welled up in her eyes.

The man looked at her fondly and said, “Only enough to win.”

A pretty girl was driving through the west when her car unexpectedly ran out or gas. As fate would have it, an Indian came along on horseback and gave her a ride to the nearest gas station.

Every few minutes the Indian would let out a wild whoop that could curdle milk. Finally, as he dropped her off at the gas station, he cried, “Yiiieee-yiiieee-yiiiee!” and galloped off.

“My god!” said the gas station attendant. “What were you doing to that Indian to make him holler like that?”

“Why, nothing,” said the girl. “I just sat behind him with my arms around him, holding onto his saddle horn.”

“Lady,” said the attendant, “Indians don’t use saddles.”

A barfly sat salaciously at the end of the bar. Mario checked himself in the mirror and made his way over to try his luck with the local lush.

Despite his handsome looks and charm, the liquor sponge scoffed at his vain attempts to woo her.

Mario had nearly used every line he had on the introverted carouser. As his importuning began to wind down, he tried one last desperate plea, “I’m perfect for you, cause I’m a cross between a macho and a sensitive man.”

Without even looking up from her drink, the debauchee dryly remarked, “So after all that, you’re telling me you’re a gay trucker?”