| jploveparade |
Little Johnny hears the word whorehouse in school and asks his father what it means. His father is quite shocked, and replies, "Well, uh, you go there to, uh, have a good time."
Johnny starts screaming and hollering that he wants to go there, too, but his father insists that he's too young.
Saturday night rolls around. Johnny's dad and a few of his friends head out to Mable's ("Liquor In The Front, Poker In The Rear! -- Our Customers Come First!) for a "good time."
Naturally, Little Johnny tags along secretly.
After his dad and his dad's friends have been safely inside for some time, Little Johnny knocks on the door. The madame opens the door. "Yes?" she asks.
"I'm here to have a good time!"
The madame is a little puzzled, but, being a kind-hearted soul, invites Little Johnny inside. She gives him three donuts and then bids him goodbye.
When he gets home, his dad is frantic. (Dad obviously had come and gone at Mabel's.) "Where have you been?"
"I went to a WHOREHOUSE!" Johnny proudly boasted!
Johnny's dad blanched. "Uhh, you did? Umm, how was it?
"Well, I managed the first two without any problem, but I just licked the third one!"ut I just licked the third one!"
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An Arkansas hillbilly came to town carrying a jug of moonshine in one hand and a shotgun in the other.
He stopped a man on the street, saying to him "Here friend, take a drink outta my jug."
The man protested, saying he never drank. The hillbilly leveled his shotgun at the stranger and commanded "Drink!"
The stranger drank, shuddered, shook, shivered and coughed. "Gee! that's awful stuff you've got there."
"Ain't it, though?" replied the hillbilly. "Now, you hold the gun on me while I take a swig."
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Back in the Good Old Days, when Dudley Fudpucker was whooping it up in college, he was standing at a bar one evening, when a lady of enticing appearance approached him and suggested that they have a drink.
Dudley said, "Well, I'm no John D. Rockefeller, but I'll buy." After developing a slight buzz, she suggested a dance.
Dudley smiled and said, "I'm no Fred Astaire, but I'll give it a whirl." Later, she suggested that they go up to her room.
"I'm no Cary Grant," replied Dudley, "but I'll follow you up there."
They leave and go to the lady's apartment. They have another drink, then do what had been on their minds all evening, anyway.
Afterward, the lady says, "What about some money?"
Dudley shot back, "Well, I'm no gigolo, but I'll take it!"
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An old man made it shakily through the door to Joe Conforte's Mustang Ranch, outside Reno, Nevada. The receptionist stared at him. "You gotta be in the wrong place," she exclaimed. "What are you looking for?"
"Ain't this the famous Mustang Ranch? Ain't this where you got forty-five girls ready 'n' able?"
The receptionist looked perplexed. "Ready for what?"
"I want a girl," the old man rasped. "I wanna get laid."
"How old are you, Pop?" she asked.
"Ninety-two," he replied.
"Ninety-two? Pop, you've HAD it!"
"Oh," said the old man, a little disconcerted as his trembling fingers reached for his wallet. "How much do I owe you?" |
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