A Man and a woman are having marital difficulties...so they decide to go away on holiday separately....

Whilst on holiday in some desert country, the woman finds a latern, she rubs it...and low and behold out pops a fat little genie....

"I will grant you three wishes... " say the Genie.

"wow" says the woman, her eyes gleaming....

"be aware though, every wish I grant you I will give to your husband three fold" say the Genie

The woman thinks for a bit, and says "ok"...

"for my first wish...I want 50million bucks in my bank account"....

"for my second wish...I want great sex for the rest of my life"....

"done" says the genie.."your husband is having an orgy with 5 bisexual blondes right now!"

"mmmm, " thinks the woman..."and for my third wish ...I would like a mild heart attack!"

OOOOh no my Godness !

when I die I m coming back as a Narwhal..........

As told by someone.....


This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I'd gotten the time of the train wrong.

I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.

I want you to picture the scene. It's very important that you get this very clear in your mind.

Here's the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There's a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.

It didn't look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.

Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There's nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.

You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn't do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?

In the end I thought, nothing for it, I'll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn't because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.

Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice . . ." I mean, it doesn't really work.

We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.

Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.

The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who's had the same exact story, only he doesn't have the punch line.

I believe that story is from a book titled The Salmon of Doubt, by  Douglas Adams (1952-2001) who also wrote the following:

"If you try and take a cat apart to see how it works, the first thing you have on your hands is a non-working cat."

Well this is just a funny story, from a freind of mine. SHould make you all laugh, especially the ladies.

Hair removal 101...God love the woman who shared this!!!!

*smile

All hair removal methods have tricked us with their promises of easy,
painless removal - The epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax. My
night began as any other normal weekday night. Come home fix dinner, played
with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind
for the next few hours: Maybe I should pull the wax out of the medicine
cabinet. So I headed to the site of my demise; the bathroom. It was one of
those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips
together in your hand and then they get warm and you peel them apart press
it to your leg (or wherever else) and hair comes right off. No muss, no
fuss. How hard can it be? I mean I'm no girly, girl but I am mechanically
inclined enough that I can figure it out. *YA THINK!!!*

So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck
together. Instead of rubbing them together, I get out the hair dryer and
heat it to 1000 degrees. Cold wax my rear end (Oh how this phrase haunts
me!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and
pull. OK so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do
this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-ra, fighter of all wayward
body hair and smooth skin extraordinaire. With my next wax strip I move
north. After checking on the kids I sneak back into the bathroom, for the
ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on
the toilet. Using the same procedure I apply the was strip across the right
side of bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching
down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale
deeply and brace myself. RRRRIIIPPP!!!! I'm blind!!! Blinded from
pain!!!!....OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only
managed to pull off half of the strip. S&%T!!! Another deep breath and
RRIIPP. Everything is swirly and spotted. Do I hear crashing drums??? OK,
back to normal. I want to see my trophy - A wax covered strip with my hairy
pelt, that has caused me so much pain, sticking to it. I want to revel in
the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip! There's no
hair on it. Where is the hair. WHERE IS THE WAX??? Slowly I ease my head
down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair..The hair that should
be on the strip. I touch. I am touching wax. S&%T I run my fingers over the
most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted
hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake...................remember my foot is
still propped up on the toilet. I know I need to do something. So I put my
foot down. NOOOOO!!!!!!!! I hear the slamming of the cell door. Vagina? Sealed
shut. Butt?? Sealed shut. I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to
figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge
to poop. My head may pop off" Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the
hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax covered
bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off right???
*WRONG!!!!!!!*I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than then that
used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.
Now, the only thing worse that having your nether businesses glued together
is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub. In
scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax. So, now I'm
stuck to the bottom of the tub!! God bless the man that convinced me I
should have a phone in the bathroom!!!!! I call my friend thinking surely
she's waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very
good conversation starter "So, my butt and who-ha are stuck to the bottom of
the tub!" There is a slight pause. She doesn't have a secret trick but does
try to hide the laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is
located on bottom "Are we talking cheeks or hole or what?" She's laughing
out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I
call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the
joke of someone else's night. While we go through various solutions. I
resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to
have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in
super hot water and then dry shaving the sticky wax off!! By now the brain
is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I slip into glazed donut
land. My friend is still talking with me and my hand reaches towards the
saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I
really have to lose at this point. I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!! The
scream probably woke the kids, scared the dickens out of my friend, but I
really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works!! I get a hearty congratulation from
my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax
and then notice to my grief and despair..................................THE
HA IR IS STILL THERE.......................ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. So I
shaved it off. Heck, I'm numb at this point. Next week I'm going to try hair

color......

a woman finds out she's just won the lottery and jumps in to the car to drive home as fast as she can. Flying down the road, she screeches into her driveway and runs into her house to share the news with her husband. 

"frank!! I've just won the lottery! Start packing your bags!" she yells at him.

"Oh my god, thats wonderfull!" he retorts. After a minute he comes back and asks "wait, should i pack for the beach or for skiing?"

The wife shouts back "Doesn't matter, just get out"

Actually the Scottish are a very proud people and a few years back the government sued the Rolling Stones for copyright infringement of the Scottish folk song "Hey MacLoud get off of my ewe'.

A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband.
She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded:

" Rome ? Why would anyone want to go there?
It's crowded and dirty.. You're crazy to go to Rome .. So, how are you getting there?"

"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "We got a great rate!"

"Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser..
" That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. So, where are you staying in Rome ?"

"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome’s Tiber River called Teste."

"Don't go any further.. I know that place.
Everybody thinks it’s going to be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump."

"We're going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope."

"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. You and a million other people trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant.

Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."

A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome .

"It was wonderful," explained the woman, "not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class.. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot.

And the hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"

"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know you didn't get to see the Pope."

"Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican , a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me.

Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."

"Oh, really! What'd he say ?"

He said: "Who the F*** did your hair?"

A professor at the University of Mississippi was giving a lecture on
'Involuntary Muscular Contractions' to his first year medical students.

Realizing this was not the most riveting subject, the professor decided to
lighten the mood slightly.

He pointed to a young woman in the front row and asked, 'Do you know what your ass is doing while you're having an orgasm?'

She replied, “Yeah, probably duck hunting with his buddies.”

A little boy comes down to breakfast. Since his family lives on a farm, his mother asks if he has done his chores.

'Not yet momma,' said the little boy.

His mother tells him no breakfast until he does his chores. Well, he's a little pissed, so he goes to feed the chickens, and he kicks a chicken.

He goes to feed the cows, and he kicks a cow. He goes to feed the pigs, and he kicks a pig. He goes back in for breakfast and his mother gives him a bowl of dry cereal.

'How come I don't get any eggs and bacon? Why don't I have any milk in my cereal?' he asks.

'Well,' his mother says, 'I saw you kick a chicken, so you don't get any eggs for a week. I saw you kick the pig, so you don't get any bacon for a week either. I also saw you kick the cow, so for a week you aren't getting any milk.'

Just then, his father comes down for breakfast and kicks the cat halfway across the kitchen. The little boy looks up at his mother with a smile, and says: 'Are you going to tell him, or should I?'

What's a four letter word for Intercourse?

Talk!