Filters for ANY web page!!Check out this little invention, courtesy of Webdez Internet. Translates any web page into Ali G-speak. SO what are you waiting for?
Filters for ANY web page!!
Check out this little invention, courtesy of Webdez Internet. Translates any web page into Ali G-speak. SO what are you waiting for?
Another invention, courtesy of rinkworks.com This also "filters" the web page of your choice and turns the web page into funky languages. Try it below!!
Key:
***** Three Worst Chinese Torture Tests *****
A man is out in the Chinese wilderness and he's hopelessly lost.
It's been nearly three weeks since he's eaten anything besides what he could
forage, and he's been reduced to sleeping in caves and under trees.
One afternoon, he comes upon an old mansion in the woods. It has
vines covering most of it, and the man can't see any other buildings in the
area. However, he sees smoke coming out of the chimney, implying someone
is home.
He knocks on the door, and an old man answers, with a beard almost
down to the ground. The old man squints his eyes and says, "What do you want?"
The man says, "I've been lost for the past three weeks and haven't
had a decent meal or sleep since that time. I would be most gracious if I could
have a meal and sleep in your house for tonight."
The old Chinese man says, "I'll let you come in on one condition:
You cannot mess around with my granddaughter."
The man, exhausted and hungry readily agrees, saying, "I promise I
won't cause you any trouble. I'll be on my way tommorrow morning."
The old Chinese man counters, "Ok, but if I do catch you, then I'll
give you the three worst chinese torture tests ever known to man."
"Ok, Ok!", the man said as he entered the old house. Besides, he
thought to himself, "What kind of woman would live out in the wilderness
all her life?"
Well, that night, when the man came down to eat (after showering), he
saw how beautiful the granddaughter was. She was an absolute pearl, and
while he had only been lost three weeks, it had been many, many months
without companionship. And the girl had only seen the occasional monk
besides her grandfather and well, they both couldn't keep their eyes off
each other throughout the meal.
That night, the man snuck into the girl's bedroom, and they had
quite a time, but had kept the noise down to a minimum. The man crept
back to his room later that night thinking to himself, "Any three
torture tests would be worth it after that experience."
Well, the next morning the man awoke to a heavy weight on his
chest. He opened his eyes and there was this huge rock on his chest. On
the rock was a sign saying, "1st Chinese torture test: 100 lb. rock on your
chest."
"What a lame torture test," the man thought to himself as he got up
and walked over to the window. He opened the shutter and threw the rock
out. On the backside of the rock is another sign saying, "2nd worst
Chinese torture test: Rock tied to right testicle."
The man, seeing the rock was too far out the window to be grabbed,
jumps out the window after the rock. Outside the window is a third sign
saying, "3rd worst Chinese torture test: Left testicle tied to bedpost."
ps. OUCH........
It's time to tell the truth about Smurf sex.
You see, Smurfs are a lot like other folks; they have dreams and
ambitions, deep, thoughtful conversations with each other, and
good and bad times.
"But," people ask, "do Smurfs have..... you know,...... *sex*?"
The answer is an emphatic and resounding YES!
And why shouldn't they? They're people, too.
What *most* people don't know is why Smurfs are blue. Well, the reason
is because Smurfs only have sex once a year.
Face it: if you had sex only once a year, you'd be blue, too.
Once a year, in the Smurf village, flags and banners fly happily
in the breeze, proclaiming that the day of the annual Smuckfest
has arrived. Birds sing and the Sun comes out to watch, despite
he weather Smurf's direst predictions.
I guess good ol' Mr. Sun is a voyeur.
In the middle of town, Papa Smurf gives a brief speech explaining the
origin of the Smuckfest; how Dr. C. Everett Koop came to the village
and warned all the Smurfs about AIDS. Papa Smurf knew that no one
made condoms small enough for a Smurf (even though everyone knows that
all male Smurfs are uniformly well-hung, for their size), so he decreed
that all Smurfs would only smuck one day a year.
"Smucking one day a year will help us identify any diseases we may
transmit to one another, and keep them from spreading to the animals
in the forest," declaimed Papa Smurf. "Besides, it will give
Smurfette a chance to rest."
Yes! Smurfette must rest. For, as everyone knows, Smurfette is the
only female Smurf in the village, and after a full day of having
vigorous, rabid sex with two hundred cunt-crazed little blue men,
she needs a break.
So, on the appointed day, Papa Smurf bids everyone throw their
inhibitions to the wind and immerse themselves in debauchery.
And, as is his privilege, Papa Smurf throws out the first throw.
At his signal, Smurfette unties the skintight blue band she must
use to suppress her natural bustiness, and her astounding tits
spring forth into the daylight. The Sun gleams lecherously on
the smooth, blue flesh, nipples crinkling in the light of day from
her soon-to-be-unbridled lust.
Then Smurfette shimmies out of her skirt and stands before the crowd,
naked as the day she was born, save the spike-heeled white boots she
has donned just for the occasion. Her long, blonde hair cascades
down her back and lasciviously outlines her buttocks, clinging like
a dirty old man's gaze to each curve and dimple.
Her cunt winks lewdly from behind the golden shield of pubic glory,
already glistening in mad anticipation of each and every raging
rod it would receive that day. And receive them gladly it would,
for hers is the indefatigable furburger, and she hungered for the
sauce blended in the heat of passion.
Smurfmette turns to Papa Smurf and lifts her stupendous breasts
with their turgid nipples to his lips. He takes each one, in
turn, into his mouth, where his tongue dances the Fabulous Fandango
around the areolae, as Smurfette moans like a cat in heat.
Then, when poor Smurfette can take no more, Papa Smurf drops to
his bony little knees and sprinkles his magic de Smurfilating
dust on Smurfette's engorged cunt lips. Presto! The lovely
blonde braiding material falls from her, leaving her shaved smooth
as a hard-boiled egg.
"Oh, Papa Smurf!" she cries. "Encore!! Encore!!", as she writhes
in anticipation of the Fabulous Furless Fandango danced 'round her
pulsating pussy.
Papa Smurf does not disappoint the damsel in distress; he slides
his hands under her tight little blue ass and parts her moistness
with his thumbs. As the hot, funky juices begin to run down his
arms, he plunges tongue-first and tonsil-deep into her wiggling
womanhood. Smurfette gasps as the talented tongue begins to do
its magic, and her cunt clutches at it like a baby bird after a
worm.
Cradling his head to her crotch, Smurfette's hips begin to slowly
grind and twitch, for Papa Smurf's tongue has unerringly found her
S-spot, and Smurfette begins the slow, hot, agonizing rise to
ecstasy. "Oh, make me smurf, baby, make me smurf!", she pants,
each stroke of his tongue causing her to throb and clutch.
As Smurfette's moans and cries rise in pitch higher and higher,
the crowd gazes in amazement at the mighty mound of meat struggling
to escape from Papa Smurf's pants. This, then, is the legendary
Trouser Titan, bulging forth in a determined attempt to split
he barrier.
Just when Smurfette is certain that she will die from sheer
sensory overload, Papa Smurf flings off his Levis and frees
the Magnificent Heat-Seeking Moisture Missle from its cradle.
Maddened with blind lust, Smurfette hurls Papa Smurf to the
platform and leaps shrieking into the air, landing unerringly
on his Titanic Totem.
Suddenly filled, Smurfette's cunt explodes in a monster orgasm,
the force of which propels her screaming into the air again and
again, each time plummeting her onto the Potent Purple Pecker and
triggering another climax.
Before Smurfette can achieve orbit, Papa Smurf grab her legs and
pulls her to the ground. Swiftly, he stands, pulling her to her
knees. Gasping in awe, Smurfette gets a head-on view of his
hard-on, glistening in the light like a war staff.
The sight of this shining stud is too much for Smurfette, who
immediately grabs both of Papa smurf's bulging balls in her hands
and pulls him to her waiting mouth. With preternatural skill and
primeval hunger, Smurfette devours the monster cock, licking and
sucking like a starving child with an ice cream cone.
His ass knotting like a sailor's anchor rope, Papa Smurf pounds
into Smurfette's mouth with furious strokes. As he reaches his
blazing climax, he forces Smurfette to take all thirteen and 7/8ths
inches of blue tube steak and fires round after pulsing round
of blue goo down her ravenous throat.
"Hurray!!", shouts the crowd. "Now it's OUR turn!!"
Suddenly the town square erupts with scenes of azure carnality,
as 200 tiny blue asses appear in the sunlight. 200 raging
cocks swarm toward Smurfette's waiting and ever-willing cunt,
ready to make her scream for mercy as they scream for more. 400
bouncing balls follow each other toward the nearest available
orifice, making Smurfette wish there were more of her.
Those lucky enough to find access to Smurfette's fabulous form
begin their crazed humping, as others find their schlongs being
stroked as fast as she can grab. Those whose time will come later
are coming now, as their friends clutch lustily at their forbidden
fruits, flinging frothy fuck-foam far and wide.
Up the ass! Down the throat! Backhand, forehand, underhand, in
the armpit or behind the knee, the Smurfs erupt in a display of
orgasmic prowess to shame the most devoted student of the Kama
Sutra. Soon the street become hazardous to navigate (and navigate
one must), as the square gets deeper and deeper in the collective
come.
Hour after hour, the orgy rampages on.
Gradually, as night falls, the screams of orgasmic ecstasy turn
to the moans and sighs of deep contentment, with the occasional
whimper from an over-enthusiastic sodomite. Soon all is quiet,
as Smurf helps Smurf back to Home and Preparation H. Tubes of
Chap-Stick are quickly distributed to soothe aching lips, and
aloe gel is applied (as are lips, if it is too stimulating) to
the citizen's members to ease the burning.
As the exhausted (and completely sated) Smurf lie in sexual
stupor, gentle rains come (not them, too!) to wash away all traces
of the fleshfest that was.
And you wondered why Smurfs are always happy.....
DON'T GET ANY IDEAS!!!!
AS YOU MAY HAVE ALREADY GUESSED, THE ANSWER TO THE RIDDLE IS NONE OTHER
THAN YOUR VERY OWN..........
what were you thinking? you PERVERT!
About 6 months later, he drives along the same road at the same time of
night in the same kind of bad weather when he has another breakdown. He
leaves the car and reluctalty goes back to the hotel in the distance. He
knocks at the door KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. The door opens and the old woman
shuffles out. "HHHHEEEEELLLLOOOOO" she shrilled. "I would like a bed
for the night please." he answered. "Come in" and he followed her in.
She montioned for him to sign the guest book but he noticed that he was
signing the second one, after his own signature 6 months earlier...
That's strange, he thought, surely there would have been people here...
but he signed it anyway and the husband of the old woman came out and led
him to his room... the same room... the same cobwebbed rat and spider
infested room. He got ready for bed but could not help noticing the
string hanging from the ceiling. What is this string for he wondered.
Should I pull it? Nah... it might do something bad... he thought and left
it. Morning broke and the man, suitably refreshed, made his way back to
the car. The car started first time, just like last time, eerily and he
drove off.
One year later, he is driving down the same road in the same terrible
conditions at the same time when guess what? His car breaks down again in
the same spot. Not again!! he exclaimed. He had to now go back to the
dreaded spooky hotel. He locked up his car and made his way to the hotel.
He knocked at the door. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK. The old woman opened the
door and shuffled her way onto the doorstep. "HHHHHEEEELLLLOOOO" she
shrilled. "Er.... I've come for the room" he said. "COME IN" she
shrilled and he followed her in. She motioned for him to sign the guest
book and guess what? He was the third entry, under his first two. That's
really strange, what's going on here? he thought. He signed in the third
spot and the old woman's husband led the man up to the same crappy smelly
web infested, rat and spider infested room. He got ready for bed and saw
the string dangling from the ceiling again. Thie blasted string, he
thought, I'm going to pull it..... noo.... I.... can't..... I... must...
leave.... it..... might.... do....something.... strange..... he left it
alone and went to sleep. Morning broke and he left and made his way to
the car. Again it started first time and he thought, how come it's
starting first time, eh? I'm not coming here again!! And he drove off...
Five years later, he unexpectedly found himself along the same road at the
same time of night in the same crap conditions. GUESS WHAT???!?! His car
stopped again at the same place!! "Bleeding hell!!" he screamed, "Why did
it have to happen to me?" He locked up his car and he made his way back
to the hotel. He knocked at the door. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. The old woman
opened the door and shuffled out onto the doorstep. "HHHHHEEEEELLLLOOO"
she shreiked. "I've come for your room, unfortunately." the man
exclaimed. "COME IN" she shreiked and he followed the old woman in and
she motioned for him to sign the guest book. He was the fourth one, after
his first three entries. What is going on here? he thought, this is
stranger by the minute!! He signs it and the old woman's husband comes
out and leads him to the same crap, web-stained, rat, insect,
flea-infested room. The man gets ready for bed and sees the string
dangling from the ceiling again. THIS BLEEDING PIECE OF STRING, he raged,
I'M GOING TO PULL THE DAMN THING!!!! And when he pulled it, the light
came on.
As the evil forces of the Microsoft Empire moved across the universe, the
computer world became locked in the icy grip of Windows 95. The Emperor Bill
Gates and his army of salestroopers had spent $300 million dollars to
brainwash every living soul. He used songs. He used TV ads. He even got a
haircut. There was just one lone hold out. A simple man with only the Force
of Good on his side. This is the story of just one battle in the epic
confrontation between Good and Evil, a story of how one man resisted the
Dark Side.
It was a dark and stormy night.
There was a knock on the door.
"Not you again!" I said.
"Sorry," he said, a little sheepishly. "I guess you know why I'm here."
Indeed I did. Microsoft's $300 million ad campaign to promote the Windows 95
operating system was meant to be universally effective, to convince every
human being on the planet that Windows 95 was an essential (some would say
integral) part of living. Problem was, not everyone had bought it.
Specifically, I hadn't bought it. I was The Last Human Being Without Windows
95. Now, this little man from Microsoft was at my door and he wouldn't take
no for an answer.
"No," I said.
"You know I can't take that," he said, pulling out a copy of Windows 95 from
his briefcase. "Come on. Just one copy. That's all we ask."
"Not interested," I said. "Look, isn't there someone else you can go bother
for a while? There's got to be someone else on the planet who doesn't have a
copy."
"Well, no," the Microsoft man said. "You're the only one."
"You can't be serious! Not everyone on the planet has a computer," I said.
"Hell, not everyone on the planet has a PC! Some people own Macintoshes,
which run their own operating system. And some people who have PCs run OS/2,
although I hear that's just a rumor. In short, there are just some people
who have no use for Windows 95."
The Microsoft man look perplexed. "I'm missing your point," he said.
"Use!" I screamed. "Use! Use! Use! Why BUY it if you can't USE it?"
"Well, I don't know anything about this 'use' thing you're going on about,"
the Microsoft man said. "All I know is that according to our records,
everyone else on the planet has a copy."
"People without computers?"
"Got 'em."
"Amazonian Indians?"
"We had to get some malaria shots to go in, but yes."
"The Amish?"
"Check."
"Oh, come on," I said. "They don't even wear buttons. How did you get them
to buy a computer operating system?"
"We told them there were actually 95 very small windows in the box," the
Microsoft man admitted. "We sort of lied. Which means we are all going to
Hell, every single employee of Microsoft." He was somber for a minute, but
then perked right up. "But that's not the point!" he said. "The point is,
EVERYONE has a copy. Except you."
"So what?" I said. "If everyone else jumped off a cliff, would you expect me
to do it, too?"
"If we spent $300 million advertising it? Absolutely."
"No."
"Jeez, back to that again," the Microsoft man said. "Hey, I'll tell you
what. I'll GIVE you a copy. For free. Just take it and install it on your
computer." He waved the box in front of me.
"No," I said again. "No offense, pal. But I don't need it. And frankly, your
whole advertising blitz has sort of offended me. I mean, it's a computer
operating system! Great. Fine. Swell. Whatever. But you guys are advertising
like it creates world peace or something!"
"It did."
"Pardon?"
"World peace. It was part of the original design. Really. One button access.
Click on it, POOF! End to strife and hunger. Simple."
"So what happened?"
"Well, you know," he said, "it took up a lot of space on the hard drive. We
had to decide between it and The Microsoft Network. Anyway, we couldn't
figure out how to make a profit off of world peace."
"Go away!" I said.
"I can't, " he said. "I'll be killed if I fail."
"You have got to be kidding!" I said.
"Look," the Microsoft man said. "We sold this to the AMISH! The friggin
Amish! Right now, they're opening the boxes and figuring out they've been
had. We'll be pitchforked if we ever go into Western Pennsylvania again. But
we did it. So to have YOU holding out, well, it's embarrassing. It's
embarrassing to the company. It's embarrassing to the product. It's
embarrassing to Bill."
"Bill Gates doesn't care about me," I said.
"He's watching right now," the Microsoft man said. "Borrowed one of those
military spy satellites just for this purpose. It's also got one of those
high-powered lasers. You close that door on me and ZAP! I'm a pile of gray
ash."
"He wouldn't do that," I said. "He might hit that copy of Windows 95 by
accident."
"Oh, Bill's gotten pretty good with that laser," the Microsoft man said
nervously. "Okay, I wasn't supposed to do this, but you leave me no choice.
If you take this copy if Windows 95, we will reward you handsomely. In fact,
we'll give you your own Caribbean island. How does Montserrat sound?"
"Terrible. There's an active volcano there."
"It's only a small one," the Microsoft man said.
"Look," I said. "Even if you DID convince me to take that copy of Windows
95, what would you do then? You'd have totally saturated the market. That'd
be it. No new worlds to conquer. What would you do then?"
The Microsoft man held up another box and gave it to me.
"Windows 95 For Pets?"
"There's a LOT of domestic animals out there," he said.
I shut the door quickly. There was a surprised yelp, the sound of the laser,
and then nothing.
And what do Baby Gates and Daddy's products have in common?
1. Neither can stand on its own two feet without a LOT of third party
support.
2. Both barf all over themselves _regularly_.
3. Regardless of the problem, calling Microsoft Tech Support won't
help.
4. As they mature, we pray that they will be better than that which
preceeded them.
5. At first release they're relatively compact, but they seem to grow
and grow and grow with each passing year.
6. Although announced with great fanfare, pretty much anyone could
have produced one.
7. They arrive in shaky condition with inadequate documentation.
8. No matter what, it takes several months between the announcement
and the actual release.
9. Bill gets the credit, but someone else did most of the work.
10. For at least the next year, they'll suck.
So, at the end of his sermon on Sunday, he produces his grandfathers old
gold watch and chain and proceeds to wave it from side to side in front
of his congregation.
His only two members of the congregation slide slowly into a trance at
which point the vicar thinks to himself "What can i do now? Ah! I know".
He tells the congregation to put a pound in the collection tray as they
leave, and next week bring a friend.
The following week there are four people in the church, and at the end
of the sermon out comes the watch and chain.
The congregation fall slowly into a trance and then the vicar tells them
"On your way out put two pounds in the tray and next week bring two
friends".
The following week there are twelve people in the church. At the end of
the sermon out comes the watch and chain, which is waved in the same
manner as the previous week.
The congregation fall slowly into a trance and then the vicar tells them
"On your way out put three pounds in the tray and next week bring three
friends".
The following week at the end of the sermon out comes the watch and
chain, which is waved in the same manner as the previous weeks.
The congregation fall slowly into a trance and then the vicar tells them
"On your way out put four pounds in the tray and next week bring four
friends".
The following week at the end of the sermon out comes the watch and
chain, which is waved in the same manner as the previous weeks.
The congregation fall slowly into a trance and then the vicar tells them
"On your way out put five pounds in the tray and next week bring five
friends".
The following week the church is packed to capacity, but the vicar's
getting greedy now as he can see a holiday being afforded as well as the
church roof being fixed. At the end of the sermon out comes the watch
and chain, which is waved in the same manner as the previous weeks. The
congregation fall slowly into a trance and then the vicar tells them "On
your way out put Six pounds in the tray and next week bring Six
friends".
The following week the vicar decides that due to the distinct lack of
space he would not ask them to bring friends next week but would make
the usual collection one last time, and so at the end of the sermon out
comes the watch and chain, which is waved in the same manner as the previous week.
The congregation have just fallen into a trance when the watch chain
snaps.
"SHIT" says the vicar out loudly.............
.....It took them three weeks to clean the church out.
'Pooh Goes Apeshit'
Everything was rather quiet in the hundred acre wood. The trees
whispered to each other as the wind rustled their leaves. Under a
large oak tree, there lived Pooh bear. From inside Pooh's house, there
came a steady bang...bang...bang!, that was making his honey jars
rattle on the sideboard. The light came through the window, and in the
evening sun Pooh raised the axe once more and brought it down on the
tattered remains of Christopher Robin.
"Why...won't...he...fit..." puffed Pooh to himself as the axe came
down once more. There was a small pile of earth, and a hole next to
it, which Pooh had hidden with his favourite rug. Christopher Robin,
selfish prat that he was, didn't quite fit in the hole Pooh had dug,
so instead of making it wider he had decided to hack Christopher
Robin's legs off. "A far more sensible idea", thought Pooh, and hummed
a little song to himself as he cut the last tendon and rammed the rest
of the body in the hole, finally covering it up with the rug. "Always
too bossy", thought Pooh, "Always too bossy, always grabbing me by the
paw and saying 'Come on Pooh lets have an adventure' or 'Pooh you are
silly!' in that affected cutesy spoilt brat voice, and his stupid
little shorts - bastard!"
Pooh had waited all afternoon for Christopher Robin to come round,
humming a little tuneless song to himself whilst gazing blankly into
the fire and fondling the oaken handle of the axe. When C.R. had
finally turned up, squeaking in his child-actor voice "Come on Pooh!
Open Up!", Pooh had answered the door normal as anything, talked about
the weather, and then went to the cupboard and fetched the axe. While
C.R. had sat there, prattling on about what a silly bear Pooh was and
how he had very little brain (which wound Pooh up no end) Pooh had
raised the axe high and brought it down with a satisfying thud on
Christopher Robin's skull, cleaving it virtually in two, with just
some muscle fibre in place to keep the pieces upright, and freezing
C.R's eyes wide in horror that Pooh, lovable Pooh, could do such a
thing! Pooh giggled a little and wiped some saliva from his mouth with
a shaky paw. Then Pooh, calm as anything, had mopped up the blood,
washed the axe and begun to dig the hole.
Piglet had wondered why Pooh had not called for him that morning, to
have his tea and biscuits, and so he decided to visit Pooh instead. He
admired the evening sun, blood red, and listened to the birds singing.
Pooh watched him get nearer and nearer, and plugged in the drill.
Piglet had no time to realise what had happened - the drill pierced
his skull, sending a beautiful fountain of blood all over Pooh's
orange hide. He rubbed the blood in and all over himself, licking,
licking, always licking. Then he pulled Piglet inside and put him in
the cupboard. The syringe lay on the sideboard, and Pooh picked it up,
paws shaking and sweating, and filled it full of solution of the funny
white powder that had been given to him by a strangely spaced- out
Rabbit. It was a strange effect at first, and Pooh thought he had seen
many strange things, but then experienced a euphoric feeling of power.
It made him irritable, and C.R. and Piglet had everything that was
coming to them, no doubt at all. When night had fully fallen, Pooh
dragged the bodies out and buried them in a makeshift grave.
"Adios, dear 'friends'", Pooh giggled, "Things are going to change
around the 100-acre wood now I'm in charge" he laughed hysterically
and went indoors.
The next day Tigger and Roo made their way happily to Pooh's house, to
see if he knew where C.R. and Piglet were, as no-one had seen them
since yesterday. They were sure Pooh would know, as he had had tea
with Piglet yesterday and was meant to be playing Pooh-sticks with
C.R. in the morning.
When they reached Pooh's house the door was wide open and Pooh was
nowhere to be seen. Tigger and Roo looked inside Pooh's house and
noticed a large hole in Pooh's floor and a notice was stuck on the
wall with a large blob of congealing honey "OWT CHAGIG THE DRAGGN"
(spelling had never been one of Pooh's strong points). "That's odd",
though Tigger, "there are no dragons in the 100-acre wood only
heffalumps. What is that silly bear up to now?"
Not even Tigger would have imagined what Pooh was up to at that
moment. That morning Pooh had woken with a splitting headache and a
rather snotty nose. So he had taken a large dose of the white powder
and a little while later had a brilliant idea! He left the house with
a container marked INSECTICIDE in big red letters. He took the
container and went to Eeyor's favourite patch of thistles. "This will
serve that manic depressive donkey right" laughed Pooh aloud, "always
cheating at Pooh-sticks, cheats never prosper", Pooh said to himself.
Then he hid behind a tree to watch the unsuspecting Eeyor eat himself
to death - sheer poetic justice thought Pooh as he dumped the nearly
dead body of Eeyor in the same grave as C.R. and Piglet - "Shouldn't
cheat should you?", shouted Pooh as Eeyor's eyes stared with disbelief
- "You're lucky I didn't chop you up into little bits and feed you to
Tigger!", laughed Pooh manically, before he covered the makeshift
grave over.
Pooh didn't return to the house until dinner time as he was totally
spaced out all morning. So when he returned to his house he was in an
awful mood and all he needed to make him absolutely mad was the sight
of Tigger and Roo bouncing up and down outside his house singing
"bouncy, bouncy, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, the wonderful....".
"'Wonderful'?", thought Pooh aloud, "My foot, you'd think the writer
of this shitty story could think up better lyrics for a song than
that, and to think, they released the soundtrack album on cassette and
CD; a lot of people are going to get ripped off." This lightened
Pooh's mood somewhat, but the respite was brief.
"What was that you said?", asked Roo. "God does he never stop asking
pathetic questions?", Pooh thought furiously, "I'm going to have to
deal with these prats as well. Is there no-one in this place with
intelligence apart from me?" Pooh asked despairingly." Pooh felt
himself extremely lucky as Roo had to go home for his afternoon sleep
and that left Tigger at his mercy. Even better, Tigger suggested that
himself and Pooh go and play Pooh-sticks; Pooh had smiled slyly as an
idea formed in his overactive brain, and agreed - "What an
opportunity", Pooh whispered to himself as he followed the innocent
Tigger to the bridge.
Once on the bridge, and the rather pointless game of Pooh-sticks was
under way, Pooh thought he'd much rather push his stick up Tigger's
arse, rather than throwing it into the stream. Tigger was leaning over
the side of the bridge looking for his stick. So he did not see Pooh's
wide horrific grin as he outstretched his arms and moved toward Tigger
with the intent of pushing the stupid cat into the stream - "Cats hate
water, tee hee, he'll drown."
There was a loud splash as Tigger hit the water and started to
struggle as his head was covered by water, he gulped and choked. Pooh
was holding on to the rail of the bridge and jumping up and down with
excitement and was joyously shouting at the drowning Tigger.
"Why?", spluttered Tigger as he slowly started to turn blue with the
cold, which Pooh found hysterical, after all a blue Tigger?? How
absolutely silly.
"I'll tell you why you bastard", screamed Pooh, "It serves you right,
hiding behind doors and jumping out, and scaring the shit out of
people." But Tigger did not hear Pooh's answer as he was already
floating downstream face down in the water, dead - "Good riddance",
laughed Pooh, and looked at his watch, "Still time to get that little
dick head Roo before he wakes up."
Pooh sneaked to the sleeping form of Roo's mum and saw Roo's ear
poking out of her pouch - "Now I've got you, you little git", Pooh
thought, smiling, as he threaded a needle with extra strong cotton. He
was jolly grateful for Piglet's sewing lessons now, because he would
be able to sew up Roo nice and tightly, so he would not be able to get
out and his mum would not be able to rescue him. So very slowly and
carefully Pooh began to sew Roo into his pouch and thereby suffocating
the annoying idiotic twit.
After the deed was done Pooh made his way back to his house wondering
how Roo's mum would take the death of Roo. Badly, hoped Pooh, as he
began to cough uncontrollably and felt general nausea overcome him.
By the time Pooh got home he had puked up several times and was very
desperate for some more of the white solution. He trembled as he
picked up the syringe and gave himself the remaining amount. An
awfully large amount, one might say, for a small little bear like
Pooh. In fact too much, Pooh died of an overdose, but he died with a
smile on his face: he was dreaming that he was the only teddy bear
made with a willy and dreamed how he surprised Eeyor one day - but
that's a story for another day.
later i go to eat at the bigga restaurant. the waitress brings me a spoon
and the knife but no fock. i tella her i wanna fock. she tell me everyone wanna
fock. i tell her you no understand. I wanna fock on the table. she say you
better not fock on the table...you sonna ma bitch.
so i go back to the room inna hotel and there is no shits onna my bed. I
calla the manager and tella him I wanna shit... he tell me go to the toilet and I
say you no understand I wanna shit on my bed. he say you better not shit onna
bed..you sonna ma bitch.
I go to checkout and the man at the desk say: "peace on you" I say piss on
you too...YOU SONNA MA BITCH... i gonna back to italy.
no it was not mistyped at all, read as it was....:)))))
A student comes to a young professor's office.
"I would do anything to pass this exam." She leans closer
to him, flips back her hair, gazes meaningfully into his
eyes.
He returns her gaze. "Anything ?"
"*Anything*."
His voice softens. "*Anything* ?"
"*Anything*."
His voice turns to a whisper. "Would you ... *study* ?"
There is this lonely man in a pretty dodgy neighbourhood, with no girlfriend and he hasn't had sex for absolutely AGES!! But he's so poor, he only has a fiver on him. However, he decides to try his luck at the local brothel. He knocks on the door and a tall woman welcomes him in. He goes,
DESERTED ISLAND
There is a beautiful deserted island in the middle of nowhere
where the following people are stranded:
2 Italian men and 1 Italian woman
One month later, on this beautiful deserted island in the middle of
nowhere...
The 1 Italian man killed the other for the Italian woman
"Hello, How may I help you?"
"Yes, well, I'm having trouble with WordPerfect."
"What sort of trouble?"
"Well, I was just typing along, and all of a sudden the words went
away.",
"Went away?"
"They disappeared."
"Hmm. So what does your screen look like now?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"It's blank; it won't accept anything when I type."
"Are you still in WordPerfect, or did you get out?"
"How do I tell?"
"Can you see the C:\ prompt on the screen?"
"What's a sea-prompt?"
"Never mind. Can you move the cursor around on the screen?"
"There isn't any cursor: I told you, it won't accept anything I
type."
"Does your monitor have a power indicator?"
"What's a monitor?"
"It's the thing with the screen on it that looks like a TV. Does it
have a little light that tells you when it's on?"
"I don't know."
"Well, then look on the back of the monitor and find where the power
cord goes into it. Can you see that?"
....."Yes, I think so."
"Great! Follow the cord to the plug, and tell me if it's plugged into
the wall."
....."Yes, it is."
"When you were behind the monitor, did you notice that there were two
cables plugged into the back of it, not just one?"
"No."
"Well, there are. I need you to look back there again and find the
other cable."
....."Okay, here it is."
"Follow it for me, and tell me if it's plugged securely into the back
of your computer."
"I can't reach."
"Uh huh. Well, can you see if it is?"
"No."
"Even if you maybe put your knee on something and lean way over?"
"Oh, it's not because I don't have the right angle-it's because it's
dark."
"Dark?"
"Yes-the office light is off, and the only light I have is coming in
from the window."
"Well, turn on the office light then."
"I can't."
"No? Why not?"
"Because there's a power outage."
"A power... A power outage? Aha! Okay, we've got it licked now. Do
you still have the boxes and manuals and packing stuff your computer
came in?"
"Well, yes, I keep them in the closet."
"Good! Go get them, and unplug your system and pack it up just like
it was when you got it. Then take it back to the store you bought it
from."
"Really? Is it that bad?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it is."
"Well, all right then, I suppose. What do I tell them?"
"Tell them you're too stupid to own a computer."
Online host: ***You are in "Endless Void."***
People in Room(1) Mr. Big
The Jokes!!
- For all ages
- Some unsuitable-for-young-children bits
- 12 and over
- 18 and overThree Worst Chinese Torture Tests
Smurf Sex
What am I?
The Hotel?
The Last Person Without Windows 95?
Bill Gates' Tackle
Jennifer Katharine Gates
The Vicar and his congregation
Pooh goes Apeshit
Italian on holiday
Seductive Student
The Sex-Starved Man
Deserted Island
Stupid PC Owner
In The Beginning (Genesis) - The Chat Room Version
****************************************************************************
********************************* SMURF SEX *******************************
****************************************************************************
WHAT AM I????
THIS USEFUL TOOL, COMMONLY FOUND IN THE RANGE OF 8 INCHES LONG. THE
FUNCTIONING OF WHICH IS ENJOYED BY MEMBERS OF BOTH SEXES. IS USUALLY
FOUND HUNG, DANGLING LOOSELY, READY FOR INSTANT ACTION. IT BOASTS A
CLUMP OF LITTLE HAIRY THINGS AT ONE END AND A SMALL HOLE AT THE OTHER.
IN USE, IT IS INSERTED, ALMOST ALWAYS WILLINGLY, SOMETIMES SLOWLY,
SOMETIMES QUICKLY, INTO A WARM, FLESHY, MOIST OPENING WHERE IT IS THRUST
IN AND DRAWN OUT AGAIN AND AGAIN MANY TIMES IN SUCCESSION, OFTEN QUICKLY
AND ACCOMPANIED BY SQUIRMING BODILY MOVEMENTS. ANYONE FOUND LISTENING IN
WILL MOST SURELY RECOGNIZE THE RHYTHMIC, PULSING SOUND, RESULTING FROM THE
WELL LUBRICATED MOVEMENTS. WHEN FINALLY WITHDRAWN, IT LEAVES BEHIND A
JUICY, FROTHY, STICKY WHITE SUBSTANCE, SOME OF WHICH WILL NEED CLEANING
FROM THE OUTER SURFACES OF THE OPENING AND SOME OF FROM ITS LONG
GLISTENING SHAFT. AFTER EVERYTHING IS DONE AND THE FLOWING AND
CLEANSING LIQUIDS HAVE CEASED EMENATING, IT IS RETURNED TO ITS FREELY
HANGING STATE OF REST, READY FOR YET ANOTHER BIT OF ACTION, HOPEFULLY
REACHING ITS BRISTLING CLIMAX TWICE OR THREE TIMES A DAY, BUT OFTEN MUCH
LESS.
WHAT AM I???????
.....TOOTHBRUSH.........
There was a man who was driving home one stormy night down a wet, dark
road in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly, his car brakes down and he gets
out and checks it. After 10 minutes, he finally comes to the conclusion
that his car is knackered. "What am I going to do?" he cried, "I'm in the
middle of nowhere!!". He turned and just as lightning flashed across the
night sky, he could see the outline of a big castle. He was feeling
desperate to get some kip so he locks his car and decided to head up to
the castle. As he gets closer, he sees that it's actually a big hotel.
He knocks on the door. BANG, BANG, BANG!! After a couple of seconds, the
door creaked open. CRRRREEEEAAAKK, and an old decreped woman shuffled her
way onto the doorstep. "HHHEEEEELLLLOOOO!!!"" she said in a very shaky,
high-pitched oldwoman voice. "Er..." stuttered the man, "Can I have a
place to sleep for the night?" "Come innnnnn" she said and walked indoors,
followed by the man. She led the man to the guest book and motioned for
him to sign it. That's funny, the man thought, there's no entries here,
maybe it's a new book. So he signs his name right at the top and the the
old woman calls her husband, who is decreped also and has a hunchback.
The old man leads the man up to his room and the man got ready for bed.
The room had cobwebs and spiders and rats roaming around it and was very
dark. But as he lay there, he saw a string above his head haning from the
ceiling. What's this, he thought, should I pull it? But he decided he
would not pull the string, but he would leave it. The next morning, he
paid the old woman, went back to his car and it started first time.
Strange, he thought and he drove off.
A Long Time Ago, In A Galaxy Far, Far Away
The Last Person Without Windows 95
What did Bill Gates' wife say to him on their wedding night?"Now I know why you named your company Microsoft !"
For the first time in, oh, a decade, I think, something from Microsoft
shipped on time: Jennifer Katharine Gates, weighed 8 pounds 6 ounces,
when she was downloaded, er, born on Friday, April 26 at 6:11 p.m.
While out at a country fair one fine afternoon, the local vicar is stood
watching some hypnotism. "Aha" he thinks, being a slightly unscrupulous
chap, "I'll try that on Sunday, I might be able to get the church roof
fixed or even have a holiday out of it".
"this is the story of the italian who tell the story about his
trip to america.....it must be read with an italian accent"
one day ima gonna Malta to bigga hotel. Ina morning i go down to eat
breakfast. I tella waitress i wanna two pissis toast. she brings me only one piss. I
tell here i want to piss. she say go to the toilet....I say you no understand. I
wanna to piss onna my plate. she say you better not piss onnna plate...you
sonna ma bitch. I dont even know the lady and she call me sonna ma bitch.
She glances down the hall, closes his door, and kneels
pleadingly.
"I mean..." she whispers, "...I would do...*anything*."
"I'm sooo desperate for sex"
"I see" replied the woman. "Well, how about our high class lady, Sue, upstairs. Fantastic figure. Goes like a rocket. She'll do anything for you for £100"
"I don't have that much" said the desperate bloke.
"OK, then how about our nice lady Mary on the Ground Floor. She's quite pretty, good servicer. She's £50."
"I don't even have £50"
"How much do you have?"
"Just £5"
"Er... OK... well, you can have Margaret, down in the basement. Very average, very large lady."
"Yes, yes, anything" salivated the man, panting and rubbing his crotch. So he made his way downstairs in the dark, went into the room with Margaret in, climbed on top and soon got going. After a while, she started frothing at the mouth. The man, disturbed by white froth coming from her mouth, got off her and made his way back upstairs to the ground floor to demand an explanation.
"Hey, how come Margaret's frothing at the mouth?"
The woman said, "Oh, shit, KATIE, THE DEAD ONE'S FULL!!"
2 French men and 1 French woman
2 German men and 1 German woman
2 Greek men and 1 Greek woman
2 English men and 1 English woman
2 Bulgarian men and 1 Bulgarian woman
2 Swedish men and 1 Swedish woman
2 Australian men and 1 Australian woman
2 Kiwi men and 1 Kiwi woman
2 Irish men and 1 Irish woman
The 2 French men and the French woman are living happily together
in a "menage a trois"
The 2 German men have a strict weekly schedule of when they have
to alternate with the German woman
The 2 Greek men are sleeping with each other and the Greek woman
is cleaning and cooking for them
The 2 English men are waiting for someone to introduce them to the
English woman
The Bulgarian men took one look at the endless ocean, one look at
the woman and started swimming
The two Swedish men are contemplating the virtues of suicide while
the woman keeps on bitching about her body, being her own and the
true nature of feminism. But at least... it is not snowing and
the taxes are low.
The Australians are all wankers, so who cares?
The two Kiwi men start searching the island for sheep while the
woman gets friendly with a big banana she has found
The Irish began by dividing their island Northside-Southside and
setting up a distillery. They don't remember if sex is in the
picture, 'cause it gets sort of foggy after the first few litres
of coconut-whiskey - but, happily, at least they know the English
aren't getting any.
Mr. Big: Hi there.
Mr. Big: Oops, I forgot.
Online Host: Light has entered the room.
Online Host: Earth has entered the room.
Online Host: Vegetation has entered the room.
Online Host: Beast&Bird has entered the room.
Mr. Big: This is good.
Beast&Bird: Moo. Quack. Oink. Grrrrr. Ook-ook.
Mr. Big: Does anybody have any topics?
Beast&Bird: Growl. Chirp. Squeak.
Mr. Big: Press 1 if you think long white beards are cool.
Beast&Bird: Bow-wow. Hoot. Awooooooo. Glub glub.
Mr. Big: This SUCKS
Online Host: Mr. Big, you are in violation of your Terms of
Agreement.
Mr. Big: I made you AND your Terms of Agreement.
Online Host: Sorry. :-)
Mr. Big: .
Mr. Big: .
Mr. Big: I'm bored.
Mr. Big: <---idea
Online Host: #1Man has entered the room.
#1Man: Wher is evrybody today?
Mr. Big: {{{{{#1Man}}}}}}
#1Man: Any hot chicks in here?
Mr. Big: Uh, no.
#1Man: Age/sex check
Mr. Big: I am without form and beyond all time.
#1Man: I like big boobs. Can I rub yurs?
Mr. Big: I'd better do something here.
#1Man: Zzzzzzzzzzzz
Online Host: RibGirl has entered the room.
RibGirl: Hi!
Mr. Big: {{{RibGirl}}}
RibGirl: ;-)
#1Man: Any gals, 5 minutes old, wanna chat?
Online Host: Wigglyguy has entered the room.
Wigglyguy: ssssssssssssssssssssssssss
Wigglyguy: Sorry, my "s" key was stuck.
Wigglyguy: <----pointing at delicious apple
RibGirl: Mmmmm *apples* -O -O -O -O
#1Man: <----reaching for appil
#1Man: Let me hav a bite.
RibGirl: <----downloading bite of apple to #1Man
Mr. Big: Okay, losers, get out of this room.
Wigglyguy: LOL
Mr. Big: Eating that apple is a GOD violation.
RibGirl: Wait. How were we supposed to know?
Mr. Big: Hmmph. Newbies.
RibGirl: But we could have lived all our lives in a paradise
Wigglyguy: ROFL RibGirl: Are u sure u want to throw an
actual woman off line?
Mr. Big: Good point. You can stay.
Wigglyguy: What's the topic?
RibGirl: I like guys who are into acoustic
RibGirl: music, who write poetry, and who know how
RibGirl: to listen.
#1Man: I like giant hooters.
RibGirl: Close enough. Let's go to a private room.
Online Host: RibGirl has left the room.
Online Host: #1Man has left the room.
Mr. Big: Great, now I'm back where I started.
Online Host: RibGirl has entered the room.
Online Host: #1Man has entered the room.
Online Host: First Born has entered the room.
Online Host: Abel4004BC has entered the room.
Mr. Big: That was fast work.
RibGirl: Hey, we're still paying the hourly rate for AOL.
Wigglyguy: Too many kids on today------ bye
Online Host: Wigglyguy has left the room.
#1Man: All that cybursex mad me hungry.
#1Man: Any more appils?
Abel4004BC: Type 1 if you like farming
Abel4004BC: 1
Abel4004BC: 1
Abel4004BC: 1
First Born: Stop polling
Abel4004BC: 1
Abel4004BC: 1
First Born: STOP POLLING NOBODY CARES
Abel4004BC: 1
First Born: Stop it or I'll kill you
Abel4004BC: 1
Mr Big: I should've stopped on the fifth day. :-(
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