During a long rain delay, the baseball announcer filled the time with some trivia.

“Jim, do you know who hit the most home runs between 1955 and 1975?”

“Hank Aaron?”

“Yep. And do you know who hit the most RBIs between ’55 and ’75?”

“Hank again.”

“Yep. But do you know who got hit on the chin with the most balls during those years?”

“Uh, Hank Aaron?”

“Nope. Liberace!”

The fisherman called his guide on his mobile phone to make arrangements for the following day. “I’m going fishing with a couple of friends, and I need two punts and a canoe,” he said.

When he arrived, there were two tarty looking women waiting for him at the fishing lodge.

“What the hell is this?” he asked his guide.

“Well”, replied the guide, “when you phoned, I was in the bar and there was a great deal of noise on the line. I managed to get a couple of the local ladies, but what in the hell is a panoe?”

A man decided give his wife a bra for her birthday. He entered a ladies shop, and the saleswoman offered to help him.

“What color?” she asked.

He chose the white.

She then asked him for the size, but he hadn’t the faintest idea.

“Now sir, are they the size of a pair of melons, coconuts, grapefruits, or oranges?”

“No,” he answered, “nothing like that.”

“There must be something your wife’s bust resembles.”

He thought long and hard, then looked up and asked, “Have you ever seen a cocker spaniel’s ears?”

It was George the Mailman’s last day.

As he did his final rounds he reached the door of the first house and was greeted by an elderly couple who gave him a gift certificate.

At the next house, the entire family gave him a set of fishing lures, and at the third house he received a box of fine cigars.

But at the next house he was greeted by a sexy blonde wearing a skimpy negligee. Without a word, she signaled him to come inside.

She gently took him upstairs and had wild, passionate sex with him.

George certainly didn’t mind.

She then led him downstairs, where she made him a huge breakfast of toast, sausage, eggs and hash browns.

George was truly satisfied.

As he leaned forward to get his second cup of coffee, he noticed a dollar bill sticking out from under the cup.

Curious, he asks the blonde, “This is all wonderful and I appreciate everything, but what’s the dollar for?”

“Oh,” replies the blonde, “I asked my husband last night what we should give you for your retirement. He told me, ‘Screw him! Give him a dollar!” She beamed at him. “The breakfast part was my idea!”

A man goes to his dentist to have a tooth extracted. She pulled out a large syringe to give an anesthetic shot.

“No way, no needles! I hate needles!” the guy said.

So she started to hook up the nitrous oxide tank, and he said, “I can’t do the gas thing. Just the thought of having a mask on my face suffocates me!

The dentist then asked the patient if he had any objections to taking a pill.

“No,” he said, “I’m fine with pills.”

The dentist gave him two little blue pills and he swallowed them.

“What were those?” he asked.

“Viagra,” she replied.

“I’ll be damned,” said the patient, “I didn’t know Viagra worked as a pain killer.”

“It doesn’t,” said the dentist, “But it will give you something to hold on to when I pull out your tooth.”

A man driving past a burger joint in Las Vegas saw a gorgeous prostitute working the street.

“Hey, baby,” He called out. “How much for a hand job?”

She walked up to the car and said, “Five-hundred dollars.”

“Are you crazy?” the man blurted. “No hand job is worth that much!”

The prostitute stood up, took a drag off her cigarette, and said, “Do you see that burger joint behind me? I own that burger joint because I give a $500 hand job.”

The man didn’t believe her, so to settle it, they went inside and asked the manager. Sure enough, the store manager verified that the prostitute was in fact the owner of the restaurant.

Intrigued, the man agreed to the hand job at the established price, and when it was over he was amazed by the fact that the hand job was worth every penny!

The next night, the man was driving down the street again, this time he saw the same prostitute standing in front of a grand hotel. He stopped and said, “Hey baby, last night was incredible. How much for a blow job?”

Coolly, the prostitute walked over to him and said, “Five-thousand dollars.”

The man’s jaw dropped. “I’ll grant you that your hand job was worth 500 bucks, but how can you justify a $5,000 blowjob?”

“Do you see this luxurious hotel behind me?” she said. “I own this hotel because I give a $5000 blowjob.”

Not quite wanting to believe her, they go inside, and sure enough the hotel manager verifies that the prostitute is the owner of the hotel.

Realizing there may be something to this, he agrees to the price and heads up to her suite on the top floor.

A while later the man was basking in the afterglow of the most mind blowing blow job you could have ever imagined. He was so impressed, he had to ask, “So how much for some pussy?”

The prostitute took the man by the hand and led him to the large plate glass window overlooking the city. “Do you see this town with all it’s expensive casinos, hotels, and sparkling lights?”

The man gasped, “Don’t tell me you own all of Las Vegas!”

“No,” she said. “But if I had a pussy, I would.”

After being thoroughly nagged by his wife, James got into his grubbiest clothes and set about doing all the chores he’d been putting off for weeks.

He’d cleaned the garage, pruned the hedge, and was halfway through mowing the lawn when a woman pulled up in the driveway and yelled out her window, “Say, how much do you get for doing yard work?”

The young man thought for a minute, then answered, “The lady who lives here lets me sleep with her.”

Three women were in the waiting room of a gynecologist, and each of them was knitting a sweater for their baby-to-be.

The first one stopped and took a pill.

“What was that?” The others asked her.

“Oh, it was Vitamin C. I want my baby to be healthy.”

A few minutes later, another woman took a pill.

“What was that?” the others asked.

“Oh, it was iron. I want my baby to be big and strong.”

They continued knitting.

Finally the third woman took a pill.

“What was that?” the others asked her.

“Thalidomide,” she said, “I just can’t get the arms right on this fucking sweater.”