When I first noticed that my penis was growing larger and staying erect longer, I was delighted, as was my wife
But after several weeks, my penis had grown fifty centimeters.
I became quite concerned.
I was having problems dressing, and even walking. So the wife and I went to see a prominent urologist.
After an initial examination, the doctor explained to us that, though rare, my condition (Donkey Doodle,) could be fixed through corrective surgery.
‘How long will he be on crutches?’ my wife asked anxiously.
‘Crutches? Why would he need crutches?’ responded the surprised doctor.
‘Well,’ said the wife coldly, ‘you’re going to lengthen his legs, aren’t you?
We’ve all heard about people having guts or balls. But do you really know the difference between them? In an effort to keep you informed:
GUTS - is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being met by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask, “Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?”
BALLS - is coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the butt and having the balls to say, “You’re next.”
I hope this clears up any confusion. Medically speaking, there is no difference in the outcome, since both ultimately result in death.
A father walks into a bookstore with his young son.
The boy is holding a quarter. Suddenly, the boy starts choking, and goes blue in the face. The father realizes the boy has swallowed the quarter and starts to panic, shouting for help.
A well dressed, attractive and serious looking woman, in a blue business suit is sitting at a coffee bar reading a newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee. At the sound of the commotion, she looks up, carefully puts her coffee cup down, neatly folds the newspaper and places it on the counter, arises from her seat, and makes her way, unhurried, across the book store.
Reaching the boy, the woman carefully drops his pants.
She takes hold of the boy’s testicles and starts to squeeze and twist, gently at first and then ever more firmly. After a few seconds the boy convulses violently and coughs up the quarter, which the woman deftly catches in her free hand. Releasing the boy’s testicles, the woman hands the coin to the father and walks back to her seat in the coffee bar without saying a word.
As soon as he is sure that his son has suffered no ill effects, the
father rushes over to the woman and starts thanking her saying, “I’ve never seen anybody do anything like that before, it was fantastic. Are you a doctor?”
“No,” the woman replied. “Divorce attorney”
The doctor said, “Joe, the good news is, I can cure your headaches.
The bad news is, that it will require castration.
You have a very rare condition, which causes your testicles to press on your spine, and the pressure creates one hell of a headache.
The only way to relieve the pressure is to remove the testicles.”
Joe was shocked and depressed. He wondered i f he had anything left to live for but he had no choice but to go under the knife.
When he left the hospital, he was without a headache for the first time in 20 years, but he felt like he was missing an important part of himself.
As he walked down the street, he realized that he felt like a different person. He could make a new beginning and live a new life.
He saw a men’s clothing store and thought,
“That’s what I need… a new suit.”
He entered the shop and told the salesman,
“I’d like a new suit.”
The elderly tailor eyed him briefly and said,
“Let’s see… size 44 long.” Joe laughed,
“That’s right, how did you know?”
“Been in the business 60 years!” the tailor said.
Joe tried on the suit, it fit perfectly. As Joe admired himself in the mirror, the salesman asked, “How about a new shirt?”
Joe thought for a moment and then said, “Sure.”
The salesman eyed Joe and said, “Let’s see, 34 sleeves and 16-1/2 neck.”
Joe was surprised, “That’s right, how did you know?”
“Been in the business 60 years.”
Joe tried on the shirt, and it fit perfectly.
Joe walked comfortably around the shop, and the salesman asked, “How about some new underwear?”
Joe thought for a moment and said, “Sure.”
The salesman said, “Let’s see.. size 36.”
Joe laughed, “Ah ha! I got you, I’ve worn a size 34 since I was 18 years old.”
The salesman shook his head, “You can’t wear a size 34. A size 34 would press your testicles
up against the base of your spine, and give you one hell of a headache.”
New suit - $400
New shirt - $36
New underwear - $6
Second Opinion - PRICELESS
This is the tale of Freddy Law
whose sexual equipment got jammed in the door.
By the time they freed him, he didn’t feel well
for his private parts were mangled to hell.
They rushed him to hospital, the ambulance flew,
but when they arrived, there’s nought they could do.
What a bad blow for Fred, condemned without choice,
to live with no sex and a high squeaking voice.
But lucky for Fred, so he wouldn’t feel a fool,
some bright spark suggested a “Bionic Tool”.
A smart new electric one, made out of brass,
though the batteries would have to be kept up his arse.
Now newly equipped and after a rest,
Fred thought he would put the tool to the test.
So finding a woman, the nearest one handy,
supplied her with drink and made her feel randy
She, without waiting, put her hand in Fred’s flies,
as she felt what was there, gave a cry of surprise.
“That’s my Bionic Chopper. Now lets have some fun”.
“Cor blimey” she said, “It felt like a gun.”
They both stripped quick and Fred entered her fast,
he turned up the control knob and gave her full blast.
They clung to each other as Fred’s dick shook some more,
then they bounced off the bed and onto the floor.
Now the pace hotted up and they started to choke,
as the room became filled with blue dirty smoke.
With a bang Fred’s left bullock shot up in the air,
and his other one went bonkety-bonk down the stair.
So back for repair went Fred full of woe,
Was this how his sex life was destined to go ?
To return to his doctor at the end of each shag
with his tool in his pocket and his balls in a bag ?
But they fixed up young Fred, made him manly again,
for they boosted his batteries with a flex from the main.
So if he cant get a girl, now poor Fred doesn’t cry,
he just flicks on the switch and jerks himself dry
With the death of Pavarotti the Three Tenors will from now on be called
twenty quid!
Tickets are available for Pavarotti’s funeral - only a tenor!
