ӿӦlt;----------The Grand Pooh-Bah of Humour ---------->ӿӼbr>
presents
<---------------------Pooh-Bah's Adult Humour-------------------->
OK ... so some of you took offense at my "ad-free" issue last week
claiming that the offer at the top of my isse for Give Away of the Day
was an ad ... well it wasn't ...it was provided to you as information
and I did not receive payment for placing it there. Give Away of the
Day is a great site that offers FREE software for you and the soft-
ware doesn't expire if it is installed properly. So for those of you
who missed it ...here is the address:
<a href=" http://www.giveawayoftheday.com
">Give Away of the Day</a>
http://www.giveawayoftheday.com
Just like this one is NOT an ad ...this is INFORMATION that you may
need someday! I am still trying to figure out WHO would use this
service ...but what the heck ...you can rent almost anything these
days so why not:
<a href=" http://www.rent-a-dildo.com/
">Rent a WHAT?</a>
http://www.rent-a-dildo.com/
Ok so those are not ads ...but in each issue there are some ads and
I would really appreciate if you took the time to click them occasionally
and help me out a bit with your support. It may not seem like much
but every little bit helps.
Today's issue includes contributions by: Carole, Joanie, JB,
Ron, Tammy, Pat.
If you want to see your name here...send your jokes to:
<a href=" mailto:jokes@<remove
this>paulsfunhouse.com ">mailto:jokes@<remove this>paulsfunhouse.com</a>
ӿӭ------------------------QUICKIE----------------------------------ӿӼbr>
Lets start with a quickie:
First mother: What position does your son play on the football team?
Second mother: I'm not sure. I think he's one of the drawbacks.
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ӿӭ------------------LAUGHING
STALK--------------------------ӿӼbr>
This Week's Laughing Stalk
by Erik Deckers
Pretend Princesses: Royalty or Royal Flush?
I had imaginary friends when I was a young boy. Friends who would help
me solve crimes, rescue people in danger, and other situations most
four-year-old boys find themselves in, when said friends are Scooby Doo
and his gang of meddling teenagers.
As a rough-and-tumble little boy, I was naturally their leader. Our
adventures were harrowing and frightening, but were always solved from
the comfort of the family couch, or the Mystery Machine, which doubled
as my bed.
We saved family businesses from sabotaging ghosts, recovered valuable
art from pirates, and rescued helpless damsels from monsters. It was a
footloose, carefree existence.
Until I met her.
She was a princess of unknown origin and name. Her name was
unpronounceable, so she was simply known as Princess. She was my light,
my raison d'etre. At age four, I had found my imaginary soul mate.
We met while we were battling the Ghostly Diver from The Adventures of
Scooby Doo. He had chained her to the railing of his ship, and we had to
save her. I had Diver in a headlock, while the gang struggled to unlock
her chains, when our eyes met.
I threw Diver over the edge and broke Princess' chains. We leapt off the
ship, ran across my living room, jumped into the Mystery Machine ("Stop
jumping on the bed!" shouted an ethereal voice that sounded a lot like
my mom), and raced to safety.
For the next several months, we were inseparable. Princess joined us on
our adventures, although she usually got captured. As the leader of the
gang, it was up to me to rescue her. Yes, everything was great for us.
But then we encountered the green-eyed monster that no teenage gang
could defeat: Jealousy.
"She's constantly getting into trouble," whispered the gang in my
ears.
"Has there ever been a time she hasn't been captured?
But I would have none of it. Princess was one of us, as far as I was
concerned, and we stuck together through thick and thin.
"She's such a klutz."
"Is she faking that helplessness, or is she really that much of a
moron?"
I finally had enough. I told the group that I needed a rest. I was going
to take a break from hero work for a while and just relax. Catch up on
some reading, play with my toys, and do all the kid things I was
missing. But it never happened that way.
Looking back, I suppose all the signs were there. The walks in dark
forests, exploring haunted houses by herself.
Imaginary doctors would
later diagnose it as Damselitis Distressius, a sort of Munchausen's
Disease that was often found in imaginary royalty. The patient purposely
put themselves in dangerous situations to be rescued. They said Princess
was a textbook case.
After I rescued her from a two-headed monster, the doctors took her to a
safe palace where she could get the help she needed.
"Sorry, dude," said Shaggy, as they drove her away in their imaginary
ambulance. "Like, we tried to warn you."
I eventually rejoined the gang, but I'd lost the taste for the chase. I
didn't get the same thrill. I started hitting the apple juice pretty
hard. I took dangerous risks and unnecessary chances. I was even a
little rough on some of the perps.
Finally, after I purposely let one of the suspects get away, I retired
from the hero business. At five-and-a-half, I'd had a long and
distinguished career of pretend hero work.
But I never heard from Princess again. From time to time, I'd overhear
whispered fragments of stories from my G.I. Joe action figures. She'd
taken up with Batman. She'd been spotted nightclubbing with
Phooey. But she was gone for good.
That is, until my son, age four, told me about his own adventures. He
spent one afternoon last week fighting a dragon, and rescuing a princess
from the dragon's clutches.
"What's her name, Buddy?"
"I don't know."
"Where is she from?"
"I don't know."
"Well, what do you call her?"
"Princess."
Uh-oh. I spent the next several days asking myself
over and over, do I
tell her, or do I let him find out on his own? A father's job is to
protect his children, but at the same time, they need to learn from
their own mistakes. Then I finally remembered the immortal words of
Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
'Tis better to have pretend loved and lost, than never
to have pretend
loved at all.
Good luck, Buddy. I'll keep the apple juice on ice for you.
Laughing Stalk Syndicate
Copyright 2007
--
Erik Deckers is in sales and marketing by day, but at night he dons a cape and
mask and. . . well, he
doesn't fight crime so much as he just runs around his
house making kung fu noises. He is shy, and doesn't want people to make fun of
him. At other times, he writes a weekly humor column, which can be found at
http://www.kconline.com/deckers.
ӿӭ-------------------------HUMOUR---------------------------------ӿӼbr>
Three guys, a teenager, his father and his grandfather go out to play a
round of golf. Just before the son is ready to tee off, this
fine
looking woman walks up carrying her clubs. She says her partner didn't
show and asks if she can join them. The guys say sure, since she is
quite a beautiful woman.
The lady turns to the three of them and says, "I don't care what the
three of you do, cuss, smoke, chew, spit, fart or whatever. Just don't
try to coach me on my game".
The guys say okay and ask if she would like to tee off first. All eyes
are on her ass as her skirt rides up when she bends over to place the
ball. She then proceeds to knock the hell out of the ball right up the
middle.
She just starts pounding these guys, paring every hole. They get to the
18th and she has a 12-foot putt for par. She turns around and says, "You
guys have done a great job at not trying to coach me on my game. I've
never shot par before, and I'm going to ask your opinions on this putt.
Now if any of your opinions help me make the putt, I will give that guy
a blow job he will never forget. "
The guys think, 'what a deal!' The kid walks over, eyes up the putt for
a couple of minutes, and finally says, "Lady, aim that putt six inches
to the right of the hole. The ball will break left 12 inches from the
hole and go in the cup."
The father walks up and says, "Don't listen to the youngster, aim 12
inches to the right and the ball will break left 2 feet from the hole
and fall into the cup."
The grandpa looks at both of them in disgust, walks over picking up the
ball, drops it into the cup, unzips his fly and says "That's a
Gimme."
ӿӭ----------------------QUICK
QUOTE----------------------------ӿӼbr>
"Food addicts are the people I feel sorriest for because
that's really hard. You need to eat. You don't need to do
drugs. Very hard for these people to quit. "I'm
going cold
turkey... mmmmm turkey. Do not think about food... do not
think about food... do not... nuts..."
-Craig Ferguson
ӿӭ----------------------SATIRE
BY SROKA----------------------ӿӼbr>
America's leading INDEPENDENT adult humor network
http://sroka.paulsfunhouse.com/network.html
ӿӭ----------------------BACK
ISSUES-------------------------------ӿӼbr>
Back issues (or archives) can be found at:
<a href=" http://www.paulsfunhouse.com/ezine/
">Archive</a>
http://www.paulsfunhouse.com/ezine/
ӿӭ-------------------------HUMOUR---------------------------------ӿӼbr>
A man walked into a bar and ordered a glass of white wine. He
took a sip of the wine, then tossed the remainder into
the
bartender's face. Before the bartender could recover from the
surprise, the man began weeping. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm
really sorry. I keep doing that to bartenders. I can't tell you
how embarrassing it is, to have a compulsion like this."
Far from being angry, the bartender was sympathetic. Before long,
he was suggesting that the man see an analyst about his problem.
"I happen to have the name of a psychoanalyst," the bartender
said. "My brother and my wife have both been treated by him, and
they say he's as good as they get."
The man wrote down the name of the doctor, thanked the bartender,
and left. The bartender smiled, knowing he'd done a good deed for
a fellow human being.
Six months later, the man was back and ordered white wine again.
"Did you do what I suggested?" the bartender asked, serving the
glass of white wine.
"I certainly did." the man said. "I've been seeing the
psychoanalyst twice a week." He took a sip of the wine.
He then threw the remainder into the bartender's face.
The flustered bartender wiped his face with a towel. "The doctor
doesn't seem to be doing you any good," he sputtered.
"On the contrary," the man claimed, "he's done me world of
good."
"But you threw the wine in my face again!" The bartender
exclaimed.
"Yes." The man replied. "But it doesn't embarrass me
anymore."
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ӿӭ----------------------DEEP
THOUGHTS-----------------------------ӿӼbr>
There are two types of roads in our country. One
is under construction and the other is under repair.
ӿӭ-------------------------HUMOUR---------------------------------ӿӼbr>
An Irish priest is driving down to
speeding in
priest's breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of
the car.
He says, "Sir, have you been drinking?"
"Just wa ter," 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!"
ӿӭ---------------------COLUMN
PREVIEW--------------------ӿӼbr>
Getting Nailed
by Sheila Moss
Just call it a passion for fashion, but I recently bought into
the acrylic fingernail craze, a vanity industry that has rapidly
taken the nation by storm. Nail shops have sprung up like
mushrooms in shopping centers, malls, and discount marts
everywhere, making artificial nails available and affordable
for the average woman, like me.
Now, these shops give regular manicures too, but most women,
like me, go for the acrylic nails -- beautiful, long plastic
nails for those of us who have brittle nails that break easily --
beautiful, long plastic nails for those of us who are nervous
and chew their nails -- beautiful, long plastic nails for those
of us who have never had pretty fingernails before.
The manicurist approaches me: "New set or fill?"
I didn't know the lingo.
more?...
<a href=" http://www.humorcolumnist.com/nails.htm ">Sheila
Moss</a>
http://www.humorcolumnist.com/nails.htm
ӿӭ-----------------------JELLY
MOM--------------------------------ӿӼbr>
Lisa Barker is Jelly Mom and she writes a
syndicated humor column for parents & families.
View her latest column at:
<a href=" http://www.JellyMom.com
">Jelly Mom</a>
http://www.JellyMom.com
ӿӭ-------------------ADVERTISEMENT---------------------------ӿӼbr>
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ӿӭ-------------------IT'S
NOT PUNNY!------------------------------ӿӼbr>
I can understand why men don't like vasectomies. My uncle got
a vasectomy, and paid for it with Mastercard. He forgot to pay
the bill, and the finance company came over to his house and
knocked up my aunt.
ӿӭ-------------------ADVERTISEMENT---------------------------ӿӼbr>
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ӿӭ-------------------------HUMOUR---------------------------------ӿӼbr>
Sports stars are such good role models:
1. Chicago Cubs outfielder Andre Dawson on being a role model:
"I wan' all dem kids to do what I do, to look up to me. I wan'
all dem kids to copulate me."
2. New Orleans Saint RB George Rogers when asked about the
upcoming season: "I want to rush for 1,000 or 1,500 yards,
whichever comes first."
3.And, upon hearing Joe Jacobi of the 'Skins say:
"I'd run over
my own mother to win the Super Bowl," Matt Millen of the Raiders
said: "To win, I'd run over Joe's Mom, too."
4.Torrin Polk,
John Jenkins: "He treats us like men. He lets us wear
earrings."
5. Football commentator and former player Joe Theismann, 1996:
"Nobody in football should be called a genius. A genius is a
guy like Norman Einstein."
6.Senior basketball player at the
"I'm going to graduate on time, no matter how long it takes."
7. Bill Peterson, a
line up alphabetically by height." And, "You guys pair up in
groups of three, then line up in a circle."
8.Boxing promoter Dan Duva on Mike Tyson hooking up
again with
promoter Don King: "Why would anyone expect him to come out
smarter? He went to prison for three years, not
9.Stu Grimson, Chicago Blackhawks left wing,
explaining why he
keeps a color photo of himself above his locker: "That's so when
I forget how to spell my name, I can still find my clothes."
10. Lou Duva, veteran boxing trainer, on the Spartan training
regime of heavyweight Andrew Golota: "He's a guy who gets up at
11.
explaining to Coach Jim Valvano why he appeared nervous at
practice: "My sister's expecting a baby, and I don't know if
I'm going to be an uncle or an aunt."
12.
told him, 'Son, what is it with you? Is it ignorance or apathy?'
He said, "Coach, I don't know and I don't care. "
13.Shelby Metcalf, basketball coach at Texas A&M,
recounting what
he told a player who received four F's and one D: "Kid, looks to
me like you're spending too much time on one subject."
ӿӭ------------------------WEIRD
NEWS---------------------------ӿӼbr>
One in 10 eight-year-olds do not realise pork chops come
from pigs - and some even believe cows lay eggs. A new
survey also reveals nearly two out of 10 children had
no idea where yoghurt came from. And eight per cent of
city youngsters did not realise beefburgers came from
cows - compared to 3% who live in the country. Two per
cent of urban kids thought cows produced eggs. But all
children knew milk came from cows. The Dairy Farmers of
where they thought eggs, cheese, yoghurt, bacon, pork
chops and beefburgers came from. A spokesman said: "A
significant proportion, particularly those living in
the city, are unaware of the process involved in making
their food."
Weird News is a feature of this ezine...it contains a previously
published News Report. If you find an article that you wish to see
here..please send the article, name of the publication
and date to
this ezine.
ӿӭ-------------------------HUMOUR---------------------------------ӿӼbr>
A woman named Jill stood up at her church's Testimony Meeting one
Sunday morning, took the microphone from one of the church ushers,
and bared her soul to the enrapt congregation:
"I want to tell you about the awful accident that my husband, Jim,
has suffered this past month. He was riding his bike, lost control,
ran off the highway and hit a tree. He was rushed to the hospital,
and could have died, but thank the Lord, all he suffered was a broken
scrotum."
The congregation gasped in horror. The men in the congregation were
obviously uneasy and writhed in their seats. "Jim has been in
terrible
pain all month since the accident. He has trouble breathing. He has
trouble swallowing his food. He can hardly lift anything, he's in so
much pain and he has missed work because of it. He can't lift our
children up to hold them and give them the personal love that they
need, worst of all, we can no longer cuddle and have intimate relations.
He is in constant pain, a pain so terrible that our love life has all
but slipped away into oblivion. I would like to ask you all in the
congregation to pray for Jim, and pray for us, that his broken scrotum
will soon heal and be as good as new."
A dull murmur erupted within the congregation as the full impact of this
terrible accident sunk in, and the men in the congregation were visibly
shaken up with the thought that, "there but for the grace of God go
I."
Then, as the murmuring settled down, a lone figure stood up in the midst
of the congregation, worked his way up to the pulpit, obviously in pain,
adjusted the microphone to his liking, then leaned over and said to the
congregation:
"My name is Jim, and I have only one word for my wife, Jill. That
word is:
STERNUM!"
ӿӭ---------------------DAILY
SNOPE--------------------------------ӿӼbr>
All the info that is fit to print ...
The Daily Snope is a comical look
at the days news!
Todays Top Story:
Man Aged 107 Forsakes Sex for Longevity (Reuters)
A 107-year-old Hong Kong villager, who still enjoys an occasional
smoke, has attributed his longevity in part to decades of sexual
abstinence.
<a href=" http://www.snopes.com/daily/
">Daily Snope</a>
http://www.snopes.com/daily/
ӿӭ-------------------------HUMOUR---------------------------------ӿӼbr>
The Ex-Prime Minister of Canada, Jean Chretien, was making an
official state visit to Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. All the locals are
quite excited to have the Prime Minister come to their town for the
first time ever, and they've prepared quite a welcome for him.
When he steps off of the plane, everyone is quite taken aback to see
the P.M., while dressed otherwise quite normally, looking especially
resplendent in a magnificent fox hat -- like a Daniel Boone coonskin,
only made of fox.
The cameras are clicking away as he steps off the plane.
After the official greetings are over, and the mayor of
a private moment with the P.M. away from the cameras and onlookers,
he finally unleashes his curiosity. "Excuse me, Mr. Prime Minister, but
I must ask. I have never seen you wearing this magnificent fox hat
before, and I wonder why you chose to wear it to our humble town?"
The P.M. replies, "Well, monsieur mayor, eh, 'dat is quite simple, you
see. When I was leaving da 'ouse dis morning, I said to my wife, Aline,
I said, 'Aline, I am going to
thank I should wear uh anythang speshal in honour of dis inaugural visit?'
"And Aline, my wife, she said to me 'Moose Jaw? Where da
fock's 'at?'"
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ӿӭ--------------------------QUICKIE----------------------------------ӿӼbr>
Did you hear about the redneck who passed away and left
his entire estate in trust for his beloved widow?
She can't touch it till she's fourteen!
ӿӭ--------------------DANNY
GALLAGHER---------------------------ӿӼbr>
MOVIES THAT SUCK
BY DANNY GALLAGHER
"Hope Floats"
OR
"So Does Poop"
My cell phone rings. It's my brother. He's got the shock in his voice
or maybe he's just chewing on a Ring Ding with the phone still in his
face.
"Oh my God," I think to myself in the middle of a busy Saturday.
"Could something be wrong? Could a relative have died or perhaps been
stricken with a horrid disease or showed up with some kind of covered
dish that's able to take it's own lid off and been known to cause
either of the two previous conditions?"
He called to tell me he just saw the trailer for "300." My heart that
was racing at the speed of a racehorse in the Grand Preakness slammed
on the brakes, giving me a coronary preview of coming attractions for
30 more years of cheese, beer and no exercise.
He's excited about the new block of comic books and ancient wars
movies that are just around the bend. They're all on his checklist:
"300," "Ghost Rider," "Apocalypto." He's so
excited about what he's
going to see that the excitement is too much to contain and he has to
let it out by telling someone. It's either tell me or try to fight off
an entire SWAT team and die chewing his way out of a leather mouth
harness.
I could give half of a rat's ass. It's not that my love for the movies
has faded. It's January and February, the two worst months for movies
out of the entire year, the donut hole between the rush to get movies
ready for Oscar contention and the summer movie season when school is
out and the hot, sticky weather doesn't make you want to set the
largest, most flammable thing in the neighborhood on fire to keep
warm. "Inconvenient Truth" my blood crying eyes.
Usually when someone acts all excited about a movie they're dying to
see that I know is going to lay a bigger stink bomb than the fat uncle
at Thanksgiving, I get all in their grill, hopefully without
using
phrases like "get all in their grill." I live for moments like this.
Ripping into naﶥ dorks is my emotional RedBull. When I can take the
most eager of movie lovers and reduce them to piles of blubbering,
pathetic wastes of tear ducts and saline, when I can cause a "Star
Wars" geek to punch his own mother for bringing him into this world,
when I can turn a grown man into a embryonic midget, it gives my ego
wings.
But he seems genuinely excited about the crops to come in the winter
movie harvest, and who am I, his brother, to pour herbicide in his
eyes? Why should he have his hopes and dreams dashed just because he
still has enough hope to have some? Who I am to take my own flesh and
blood down a peg or two while he's so high on life? I'm his older
brother, that's who.
I'm the man God put on this Earth to "Hostel" him to prepare him for
the real world. I'm the guy who supposed to make him feel physically,
emotionally and genetically inferior, so he can go into the real world
a strong enough man to face life's problems. I wasn't just doing the
"I'm not touching you" chant or putting glitter in his milk to amuse
myself. I was trying to teach him a lesson.
But he's old enough now. We're grown ups, not hyperactive elementary
school students who think Elmer's glue and a classmate who sleeps with
an open mouth are a great way to kill an hour. I suppress my urge to
emotionally kill and answer back, "Yeah, looks like fun, and you know
what I'm looking forward to? 'Smokin' Aces.'"
"Dude," my brother responded. "That's gonna be so
gay."
======================================================
"Movies that Suck" is written and was created by Danny Gallagher.
To send suggestions, criticisms or threats to the author, drop him a
line online at dannyboythezombie@gmail.com.
Visit him on the web at http://www.dannygallagher.net.
(c) 2007 by Danny Gallagher
=======================================================
ӿӭ--------------------------CLASSIFIED
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