bingbongboo fun

Three mothers were sitting around comparing notes on their exemplary offspring.

“There never was a daughter more devoted than my Alice,” said Mrs. Davis with a sniff. “Every summer she takes me to the Catskills for a week, and every winter we spend a week at Delray Beach .”

“That’s nothing compared to what my Anna does for me,” declared Mrs. Jones proudly. “Every winter she treats me to two weeks in Miami , and in the summer two weeks in the Hamptons, in my own private guest house.”

Mrs. Smith sat back with a proud smile. “Nobody loves her mother like my Jackie does. Nobody.”

“So what does she do?” asked the two women, turning to her.

“Three times a week she gets into a cab, goes to the best psychiatrist in the city, and pays him a hundred and fifty dollars an hour – just to talk about me!”

Patton staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy.   He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Kathleen. 
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step.   As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump.   A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful. 
Managing not to yell, Patton sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding.   He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed. 
In the morning, Patton woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and Kathleen staring at him from across the room. 
She said, ‘You were drunk again last night weren’t you?’
Patton said, ‘Why you say such a mean thing?’
‘Well,’ Kathleen said, ‘it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly ….. it’s all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.

A woman sought the advice of a sex therapist, confiding that she found it increasingly difficult to find a man who could satisfy her, and that it was very wearisome getting in and out of all these short term relationships.

"Isn’t there some way to judge the size of a man’s equipment from the outside?" she asked earnestly.

"The only foolproof way, is by the size of his feet" counseled the therapist.

So the woman went downtown and proceeded to cruise the streets, until she came across a young fellow standing in an unemployment line with the biggest feet she had ever laid her eyes on. She took him out to dinner, wined and dined him, and then took him back to her apartment for an evening of abandon.

When the man woke up the next morning, the woman had already gone but, by the bedside table was $200 and a note that read, "With my compliments, take this money and go out and buy a pair of shoes that fit you."

Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal, and asks the first man he meets, ‘Do you want to go to heaven?’ 
The man said, ‘I do, Father.’
The priest said, ‘Then stand over there against the wall.’
Then the priest asked the second man, ‘Do you want to go to heaven?’
‘Certainly, Father,’ the man replied. 
‘Then stand over there against the wall,’ said the priest.
Then Father Murphy walked up to O’Toole and asked, ‘Do you want to go to heaven?’
O’Toole said, ‘No, I don’t Father.’ 
The priest said, ‘I don’t believe this.   You mean to tell me that when you die you don’t want to go to heaven?’
O’Toole said, ‘Oh, when I die, yes.   I thought you were getting a group together to go right now.’

A crusty old man walks into a bank and says to the teller, “I want to open a fuckin’ checking account.”
The astonished woman replies, I beg your pardon, sir. I must have misunderstood you. What did you say?”

Listen up, damn it. I said I want to open a fuckin’ checking account now!”
“I’m very sorry sir, but that kind of language is not tolerated in this bank.”

The teller leaves the window and goes over to the bank manager to inform him of her situation. The manager agrees that the teller does not have to listen to that foul language.
They both return to the window and the manager asks the old geezer, “Sir, what seems to be the problem here?”

“There is no fuckin problem,” the man says. I just won $200 million bucks in the damn lottery and I want to put my fuckin money in this damn bank.”

“Oh…I see,” says the manager, “and is this bitch giving you a hard time sir???”

An Irish priest is driving down to  New York  and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut . The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest’s breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car. 
He says, ‘Sir, have you been drinking?’
‘Just water,’ says the priest.
The trooper says, ‘Then why do I smell wine?’
The priest looks at the bottle and says, ‘Good Lord! He’s done it again!’