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lmao i love vitaly's videos
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ArcticMyst Security by Avery
Jokes thread!
- Thread starter rocketparrotlet
- Start date
lmao i love vitaly's videos
daguin
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Two great white sharks swimming in the ocean spied survivors of a sinking ship. "Follow me son" the father shark said to the son shark as they swam to the mass of people.
"First we swim around them a few times with just the tip of our fins showing." And they did.
"Well done, son! Now we swim around them a few times with all of our fins showing." And they did.
"Now we eat everybody." And they did.
When they were both gorged, the son asked, "Dad, why didn't we just eat them all at first? Why did we swim around and around them?"
His wise father replied, "Because they taste better without the poop inside..."
"First we swim around them a few times with just the tip of our fins showing." And they did.
"Well done, son! Now we swim around them a few times with all of our fins showing." And they did.
"Now we eat everybody." And they did.
When they were both gorged, the son asked, "Dad, why didn't we just eat them all at first? Why did we swim around and around them?"
His wise father replied, "Because they taste better without the poop inside..."
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Not really a joke. More of a caution.
Do not put lemon slices, and lemon juice on shark when cooking.
Do not put lemon slices, and lemon juice on shark when cooking.
daguin
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Ok, I'll bite
Why not the lemon juice?
How do you combat the ammonia?
Well, the one time I did use lemon, I had to air out my apartment for an hour. The stench was worse than anything else ammonia related I've encountered. I guess it could have been the particular shark steak, but I haven't had the issue since, simply grilling a piece since.
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Yup, you need an acid to offset the (Arrhenius base) ammonia. Ideally, it has time to react and outgass prior to cooking. 
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But lemon juice is very acidic?
ARG
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Two condoms walk past a gay bar.
One says to the other "what do you say we go in there and get shit-faced?"
A bloke went to his mate's fancy dress party with nothing but a girl on his back. "So what the hell are you supposed to be?" the host asked. "I'm a snail." The bloke replied. "What a load of rubbish!" the host spat. "How can you be a snail when all you've got is that girl on your back?" "That's not a any girl, mate," the bloke replied, "that's Michelle".
One says to the other "what do you say we go in there and get shit-faced?"
A bloke went to his mate's fancy dress party with nothing but a girl on his back. "So what the hell are you supposed to be?" the host asked. "I'm a snail." The bloke replied. "What a load of rubbish!" the host spat. "How can you be a snail when all you've got is that girl on your back?" "That's not a any girl, mate," the bloke replied, "that's Michelle".
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Last edited:
- Joined
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Divorce Letter.
Dear Connie,
I know the counselor said we shouldn’t contact each other during our “cooling off” period, but I couldn’t wait anymore.
The day you left, I swore I’d never talk to you again but that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first on to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride’s cost me a lot of things. I’m tired of pretending I don’t miss you. I don’t care about looking bad anymore. I don’t care who makes the first move as long as one of us does. Maybe it’s time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt.
This is what my heart says “There’s no one like you, Connie. I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they’re not you. They’re not even close.”
Two weeks ago I met this girl at Flamingoes and brought her home with me. I don’t say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19 with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. F***ing like you wouldn’t believe and ass that just wouldn’t quite. Every man’s dream, right?
As I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we’ve made important in our lives. It’s all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I’m getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my modestly attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I’d never really thought of that before. I don’t know, maybe I’m just growing up a little.
Later, after I’d tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, “Why do I feel so drained and empty?” It wasn’t just her flawless technique or her suttee shameless hunger; but something also, some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn’t feel the same because you weren’t there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, I’m just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol that singe mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn’t eating right without a woman around. I didn’t know what she meant till later; but that’s no the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know we’re banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart’s a total monster in the sack. She’s giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does when she’s not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can here us. And all of the sudden, she sports that tilting mirror on your grandmother’s old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves and it’s totally hot, but it makes e sad too because I can’t help thinking “Why didn’t Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We’ve had this old vanity for what, 14 years and we never used it as a *** toy.”
Saturday your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vickie’s just a kid and all, but she’s got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she’s been a real friend to me during this painful time. She’s given me lots of good advice about you and about women in general. She’s pulling for us to get back together. Connie, she really is.
So we’re doing Jell-O shots in a hot bath and taking about happier times. Here’s this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looks like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky’s really into the whole oral thing, and that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I’m thrusting inside your baby sister’s cinnamon ring all I can do is think of you? It’s true Connie. In your heart you must know it. Don’t you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please please please, let me know.
Otherwise, can you let me know where the f***ing remote is?
Love Dan
Dear Connie,
I know the counselor said we shouldn’t contact each other during our “cooling off” period, but I couldn’t wait anymore.
The day you left, I swore I’d never talk to you again but that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first on to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride’s cost me a lot of things. I’m tired of pretending I don’t miss you. I don’t care about looking bad anymore. I don’t care who makes the first move as long as one of us does. Maybe it’s time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt.
This is what my heart says “There’s no one like you, Connie. I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they’re not you. They’re not even close.”
Two weeks ago I met this girl at Flamingoes and brought her home with me. I don’t say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19 with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. F***ing like you wouldn’t believe and ass that just wouldn’t quite. Every man’s dream, right?
As I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we’ve made important in our lives. It’s all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I’m getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my modestly attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I’d never really thought of that before. I don’t know, maybe I’m just growing up a little.
Later, after I’d tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, “Why do I feel so drained and empty?” It wasn’t just her flawless technique or her suttee shameless hunger; but something also, some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn’t feel the same because you weren’t there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, I’m just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol that singe mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn’t eating right without a woman around. I didn’t know what she meant till later; but that’s no the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know we’re banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart’s a total monster in the sack. She’s giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does when she’s not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can here us. And all of the sudden, she sports that tilting mirror on your grandmother’s old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves and it’s totally hot, but it makes e sad too because I can’t help thinking “Why didn’t Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We’ve had this old vanity for what, 14 years and we never used it as a *** toy.”
Saturday your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vickie’s just a kid and all, but she’s got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she’s been a real friend to me during this painful time. She’s given me lots of good advice about you and about women in general. She’s pulling for us to get back together. Connie, she really is.
So we’re doing Jell-O shots in a hot bath and taking about happier times. Here’s this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looks like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky’s really into the whole oral thing, and that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I’m thrusting inside your baby sister’s cinnamon ring all I can do is think of you? It’s true Connie. In your heart you must know it. Don’t you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please please please, let me know.
Otherwise, can you let me know where the f***ing remote is?
Love Dan
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~ LB
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(The answer is he can screw new york too!
)
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~ LB
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I'm afraid my sense of humor is forever stuck in 8th grade :crackup:
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