Joke

[OUTLAWS high ping camper]

DIVIDING PECANS
On the outskirts of a small town, there was a big, old pecan tree
just inside the cemetery fence. One day, two boys filled up a bucketful of
nuts and sat down by the tree, out of sight, and began dividing the nuts.
"One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me," said one boy.
Several dropped and rolled down toward the fence.

Another boy came riding along the road on his bicycle. As he
passed, he thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery. He slowed
down to investigate. Sure enough, he heard, "One for you, one for me.
One for you, one for me."
He just knew what it was.

"Oh my," he shuddered, "it's Satan and the Lord dividing the souls
at the cemetery." He jumped back on his bike and rode off.
Just around the bend he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along.
"Come here quick," said the boy. "You won't believe what I heard!
Satan and the Lord are down at the cemetery dividing up the souls."
The man said, "Beat it kid, can't you see it's hard for me to walk."
When the boy insisted though, the man hobbled to the cemetery.
Standing by the fence they heard,
"One for you, one for me. One for you, One for me.........."

The old man whispered, "Boy, you've been telling' the truth. "Let's
see if we can see the Lord himself."
Shaking with fear, they peered through the fence, yet were still
unable to see anything. The old man and the boy gripped the wrought iron bars of the fence tighter and tighter as they tried to get a glimpse of the Lord.
At last they heard, "One for you, one for me."
And one last time "One for you, one for me. That's all.
Now let's go get those nuts by the fence, and we'll be done."

........ it was said, the old man made it back to town a full 5
minutes ahead of the boy on the bike!

[Sirc]

:lol:

Good one! :rofl:

[OUTLAWS high ping camper]

Subject: Cure for a really bad day

For all of you who occasionally have a really

bad day, and you just need to take it out on

someone, don't take it out on someone you

know, take it out on someone you don't know.

I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered

a phone call I had forgotten to make. I found

the number, and dialed it. A man answered

saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Fred Hanifin, could I

please speak with Robin Carter?" Suddenly,

the phone was slammed down on me. I

couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.

I tracked down Robin's correct number, and

called her. (I had transposed the last two

digits of her phone number).

After hanging up with her, I decided to call

the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy answered the phone,

I yelled, "You're an asshole!" and hung up.

I wrote his number down, with the word

'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk

drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I

was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him

up and yell, "You're an asshole!"

It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my

therapeutic 'asshole' calling would have to stop.

So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John

Smith from the Telephone Company. I'm just

calling to see if you're familiar with the caller ID

program?" he yelled, "NO!" and slammed the

phone down. I quickly called him back and said,

"That's because you're an asshole!"

So, one day I was at the store, getting ready to

pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW

cut me off, and pulled into the spot I had patiently

waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I had

been waiting for the spot.

The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in

his car window, so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first

asshole (I had his number on speed dial), I thought I

had better call the BMW asshole, too.

I dialed and someone said, "Hello?"

I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"

"Yes it is."

"Can you tell me where I can see it?"

"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow

house and the car's parked right out front."

"What's your name?" I asked. "My name is Don

Hansen," he said.

"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I'm home every evening after five."

"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes?"

"Don, you're an asshole!" Then I hung up, and

added his number to my speed dial, too. Now,

when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.

But after several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as

it used to be.

So, I came up with an idea: I called Asshole #1.

"Hello"

"You're an asshole!" (but I didn't hang up.)

"Are you still there?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Stop calling me," he screamed.

"Make me," I said.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Don Hansen."

"Yeah? Where do you live?"

"Asshole, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow

house with my black Beemer out front."

He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had

better start saying your prayers."

I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole."

Then I called asshole # 2:

"Hello?" he said.

"Hello Asshole," I said.

He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."

"You'll what?" I said.

"I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed.

I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm

coming over right now."

Then, I hung up, and immediately called the

police, saying that I lived at 1802 West 34th Street,

and I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then, I called Channel 13 news about the gang war

going down on West 34th Street. I quickly got into my

car and headed over to 34th St.

There, I saw two assholes beating the crap out of

each other in front of 6 squad cars, a police

helicopter, and news crew.

Now, I feel better.

Have a great day!

[OUTLAWS CHICO]

Oh hell yea I gotta do that. SSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEETTTTTTTTTTTT :wootrock: :wootrock: :wootrock:

[Sauron]

:rofl: :rofl: :rofl: :rofl: Damn thats funny :rofl: :rofl: :rofl:

[OUTLAWS Dixie Chick]

:lol:

[Pathos]

Haha! Cheers HPC! [thumbs up]

[Casanova]

:rofl:

[Nobody]

:rofl: :rofl: