FAIL Fun

There was a burning building with a redhead, a brunette, and a blonde at the top. The firemen are yelling to the redhead to jump into a blanket and she jumps off the building and right as she was about to safely hit the blanket they moved it and she dies. They yell to the brunette to jump but she says,”No I saw what you did to the redhead”! They shout we don’t like redheads! So the brunette jumps and sure enough they move the blanket and she dies. Then they shout to the blonde to jump off into the blanket. But the blonde says,”no I saw what you did to them”! They shout we don’t like them! The blonde then says, “I don’t trust you guys, put the blanket on the ground and step back!”

It was another Payday and I was tired of Mr. Goodbar.

When I saw Miss Hershey standing behind the Powerhouse on the corner of Clark and Fifth Avenue, I whipped out my Whopper and whispered, “Hey, Sweetheart, how’d you like to Crunch on my Chunky for a Million Dollar Bar?”

She immediately went down on my Tootsie Roll, and it was like pure Almond Joy.

I couldn’t help but grab her delicious Mounds because it was easy to see that this little Twix had the Red Hots.

It was all I could do to hold the Snickers and Crackle as my Butterfinger went up her tight little Kit Kat and she started to scream, “Oh Henry, Oh Henry!”

Soon she was fondling my Mars and ZagNut, so it wouldn’t be long before I blew my Milk Duds clear to her Milky Way.

She asked me if I was into M&M, but I said, “Hey Chicklet, no kinky stuff.” I said, “Look you little Reese’s Pieces, don’t be a Zero, be a Lifesaver. Why don’t you take my Whatchamacallit and slip it up your Bit ‘O’ Honey?”

She was quite a piece of Juicy Fruit and screamed, “Oh Crackerjack, better than the Three Musketeers!” as I rammed my Ding Dong up her Rocky Road and into her Peanut Butter Cup.

I was giving it to her Good ‘N’ Plenty, when all the sudden — my Starburst.

As luck would have it, she soon complained of a Wrigley in her stomach.

Sure enough, nine months later, out popped Baby Ruth.

When you 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 Jason Braemore. Could I please speak with Rachel Carter?”
Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me – I couldn’t believe that anyone could be so rude.

I tracked down Rachel’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 a scumbag!” and hung up.

I wrote his number down with the word ’scumbag’ next to it, and put it on my speed dial. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I’d call him up and yell, “You’re a scumbag!” It always cheered me up!

When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic ’scumbag’ 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 a scumbag!”

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 scumbag, I thought I had better call the BMW scumbag too.
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 1969 West 35th Street. It’s a yellow house, and the car’s parked right out in front.”
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“My name is Don Hanson,” 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 a scumbag.”
Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial. Now, when I had a problem, I had two scumbags 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 Scumbag #1…
“Hello.”
“You’re a scumbag!” (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 Hanson.”
“Yeah? Where do you live?”
“Scumbag, I live at 1969 West 35th Street, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in 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, scumbag.”
Then I called Scumbag #2.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hello, scumbag,” I said.
He yelled, “If I ever find out who you are, I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” I said.
“I’ll kick your ass,” he exclaimed.
I answered, “Well, scumbag, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right now.”

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1969 West 35th Street, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called CKVU Channel 13 News about the gang war going down on West 35th Street.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to 35th Street.

There I saw two scumbags beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars, a police helicopter, and news crew.

Now I feel a lot better…

via joe-ks

A pastor concluded that his church was getting into very serious financial troubles. While checking the church storeroom, he discovered several cartons of new bibles that had never been opened and
distributed.
So at his Sunday sermon, he asked for three volunteers from the congregation who would be willing to sell the bibles door-to-door for $10 each to raise the desperately needed money for the church.
Jack, Paul and Louie all raised their hands to volunteer for the task.
The minister knew that Jack and Paul earned their living as salesmen and were likely capable of selling some bibles. But he had serious doubts about Louie who was a local farmer, who had always kept
to himself because he was embarrassed by his speech impediment. Poor Louis stuttered badly. But, not wanting to discourage Louis, the minister decided to let him try anyway.
He sent the three of them away with the back seat of their cars stacked with bibles. He asked them to meet with him and report the results of their door-to-door selling efforts the following Sunday.
Anxious to find out how successful they were, the minister immediately asked Jack, “Well, Jack, how did you make out selling our bibles last week?”
Proudly handing the reverend an envelope, Jack replied, “Using my sales prowess, I was able to sell 20 bibles, and here’s the $200 I collected on behalf of the church.”
“Fine job, Jack!” The minister said, vigorously shaking his hand. “You are indeed a fine salesman and the Church is indebted to you.”
Turning to Paul, “And Paul, how many bibles did you sell for the Church last week?”
Paul, smiling and sticking out his chest, confidently replied, “I am a professional salesman. I sold 28 bibles on behalf of the church, and here’s $280 I collected.”
The minister responded, “That’s absolutely splendid, Paul. You are truly a professional salesman and the church is indebted to you.”
Apprehensively, the minister turned to Louie and said, “And Louie, did you manage to sell any bibles last week?” Louie silently offered the minister a large envelope.
The minister opened it and counted the contents. “What is this?
“The minister exclaimed. “Louie, there’s $3200 in here! Are you suggesting that you sold 320 bibles for the church, door to door, in just one week?”
Louie just nodded. “That’s impossible!” both Jack and Paul said in unison. “We are professional salesmen, yet you claim to have sold 10 times as many bibles as we could.”
“Yes, this does seem unlikely,” the minister! agreed. “I think you’d better explain how you managed to accomplish this, Louie.”
Louie shrugged. “I-I-I re-re-really do-do-don’t kn-kn-know ff-f-for sh-sh-sh-sure,” he stammered.
Impatiently, Peter interrupted. “For crying out loud, Louie, just tell us what you said to them when they answered the door!”
“A-a-a-all I-I-I s-s-said wa-wa-was,” Louis replied, “W-w-w-w-would y-y-y-you l-l-l-l-l-like t-t-to b-b-b-buy th-th-th-this b-b-b-b-bible f-f-for t-t-ten b-b-b-bucks —o-o-o-or— wo-wo-wou ld yo-you j-j-j-just l-like m-m -me t-t-to st-st-stand h-h-here and r-r-r-r-r-read it t-to y-y-you??”

Why do some people take an instant aversion to banjo players?
It saves time in the long run

Why couldn’t Dracula’s wife get to sleep?
Because of his coffin

What was the witches’ favorite subject in school?
Spelling

Why didn’t the skeleton cross the road?
He didn’t have the guts

Why do ghouls and demons hang out together?
Because demons are a ghoul’s best friend
Click here to read more one liners »