Text 572, 96 rader
Skriven 2004-11-24 22:20:00 av George Pope
     Kommentar till en text av MICK LAZIC
Ärende: Dave type_F unnys.....
==============================
ML> BTW, Love some of the jokes here but most are just too long. We need
ML> jokes not 'stories' ;(

This group is called "funny jokes AND STORIES" you know!

& you owe us at least 3 or 4 of either/or!

Stories can be funny, y'know!

"A Christmas Story:  Lovable Louise"
             As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of
pantyhose over   his fireplace before Christmas.  He said all he wanted was for
Santa to fill them.
             What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true
because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings were
overflowing, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty and grew increasingly
threadbare.
            One year I decided to make his dream come true.  I put on
  sunglasses and a fake beard and went in search of an inflatable love
doll.
            Of course, they don't sell those things at Walmart.  I had to go
  to an adult bookstore downtown.  If you've never been in an X-rated
  store, don't go.  You'll only confuse yourself.
            I was there almost three hours saying things like, "What does
  this do?"  "You're kidding me!"  "Who owns that?"  "Do you have their
  phone number?"
            Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section.  I wanted to
buy a standard, uncomplicated doll suitable for a night of romance that
could  also substitute as a passenger in my car so I could use the car pool
lane during rush hour.
            I'm not sure what a complicated doll is.
Perhaps one that is subject to wild mood shifts and using a French accent
for no reason at  all.  (That also describes a few ex-boyfriends.)   Finding
what I wanted was difficult.  Love dolls come in many different models.
             The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could
do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry.  I figured the
"vibro-motion" was a feature Jay could live without, so I settled
for "Lovable Louise."   She was at the bottom of the price scale.
To call Louise a "doll" took a huge leap of imagination.
            On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old
bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and
cleverly left the front door key hidden under the mat.
            In the wee morning hours,  long after Santa had come and gone,
  I snuck into the house and filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's
pliant legs and bottom.  I also ate some cookies and drank what remained
of a glass of milk on a nearby tray.  Then I let myself out, went home, and
giggled for a couple of hours.
            The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been
  to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had
  left the dog confused.   He would bark, start to walk away, then come
  back and bark some more.   I suggested he purchase an inflatable Lassie
  to set Rover straight.   We also agreed that Louise should remain in her
  pantyhose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came
  over for the  traditional Christmas dinner.
            It seemed like a great idea, except that we forgot that Grandma
  and Grandpa would be there.   My grandmother noticed Louise the moment
she walked in the door.   "What the hell is that?" she asked. My brother
quickly explained,  "It's a doll."  "Who would play with something like that?"
Granny snapped.   I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth
shut.   "Where are her clothes?" Granny continued.   I hadn't seen any
in the box, but I kept this information to myself.
            "Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran," Jay said, trying to
  steer her into the dining room.   But Granny was relentless. "Why
  doesn't she have any teeth?"   Again, I could have answered, but
 why would I?   It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the
back of  the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny,  Hang on!"
            My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled
  up to me and said," Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?"  I
told him she was Jay's friend.   A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa
by the  mantel, talking to Louise.  Not just talking, but actually
flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's last
Christmas at home.
            The dinner went well.   We made the usual small talk about who
had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise
made a noise that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the
morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose,  flew around  the room twice,
and fell in a heap in front of the sofa.   The cat screamed,  I passed
cranberry sauce through my nose,  and Grandpa ran across  the room, fell to his
knees, and began administering mouth to mouth resuscitation.   My brother wet
his pants and Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in
the car.
           It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.


Your Moderator and all-round friend/servant,
<+]::-{(} ("Cyberpope")
Internet: gapope@vcn.bc.ca
1)If you don't like a joke, post 2-3 examples of what you DO like!
B)If you DO like a joke, say thank-you with 2-3 jokes of your own! :)

(AKA the Bishop of ROM!)

... nfx v3.1 A text taken out of context is a pretext -- Mitch Bond          

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