A man driving past a burger joint in Las Vegas saw a gorgeous prostitute working the street.
“Hey, baby,” He called out. “How much for a hand job?”
She walked up to the car and said, “Five-hundred dollars.”
“Are you crazy?” the man blurted. “No hand job is worth that much!”
The prostitute stood up, took a drag off her cigarette, and said, “Do you see that burger joint behind me? I own that burger joint because I give a $500 hand job.”
The man didn’t believe her, so to settle it, they went inside and asked the manager. Sure enough, the store manager verified that the prostitute was in fact the owner of the restaurant.
Intrigued, the man agreed to the hand job at the established price, and when it was over he was amazed by the fact that the hand job was worth every penny!
The next night, the man was driving down the street again, this time he saw the same prostitute standing in front of a grand hotel. He stopped and said, “Hey baby, last night was incredible. How much for a blow job?”
Coolly, the prostitute walked over to him and said, “Five-thousand dollars.”
The man’s jaw dropped. “I’ll grant you that your hand job was worth 500 bucks, but how can you justify a $5,000 blowjob?”
“Do you see this luxurious hotel behind me?” she said. “I own this hotel because I give a $5000 blowjob.”
Not quite wanting to believe her, they go inside, and sure enough the hotel manager verifies that the prostitute is the owner of the hotel.
Realizing there may be something to this, he agrees to the price and heads up to her suite on the top floor.
A while later the man was basking in the afterglow of the most mind blowing blow job you could have ever imagined. He was so impressed, he had to ask, “So how much for some pussy?”
The prostitute took the man by the hand and led him to the large plate glass window overlooking the city. “Do you see this town with all it’s expensive casinos, hotels, and sparkling lights?”
The man gasped, “Don’t tell me you own all of Las Vegas!”
I took a manufacturing job back in August with a new company. Suffice to say I'd rather not say, but if I did happen to say, you'd recognize the name immediately. It's a Fortune 500, but not the Walmart, Amazon, McDonald's kind, so yeah, we're playing in the majors.
My career trajectory has had a few interesting turns. Previous to '95 I was a job butterfly. I flitted around from job to job, some good, some bad, but never stayed anywhere for any significant amount of time. One year I went through 10 different employers, and never once during those days did I ever go on unemployment or welfare. Jobs came easy for me, and I always paid my way.
Back in '95 I landed a position as a Robotics Technician for a company controlled by General Motors... But I didn't actually work for GM. I absolutely love robots. I had that job for about two years, but things started getting rather dicey around there, so I got out. Good thing too, because they went out of business less than 6 months later.
So in '97 I took a job at a plastics company. At first I couldn't believe I had found such an amazing place. The pay was nothing to write home about, but the work was easy, the environment was laid back, the coworkers were great, the benefits were decent, and the 3rd shift hours worked well for me. After a few years I was even able to buy a house, but 9-11 happened less than a month later and everything was different.
The aftermath left me feeling a bit gutted, and I wanted to do something. While still working at the plastics company I joined the Army Reserves back in the fall of 2005. It's something I look back on fondly, but I really think it was a major mistake on my part both financially and physically. Other than being able to say I was there, I gained no benefit from that experience. After 6 years I got out. Two years later my honorable discharge arrived in the mail. That's all I have to say about that.
Back to the plastics company where I was still employed: Over the years things changed. The benefits dwindled, the hours grew longer, the pace grew more frantic, a lot of coworkers retired and/or died, and while I eventually ended up in a leadership role, I felt something was very wrong. So I got a job working for Amazon delivery.
Yeah, but I never actually made it to Amazon. A head hunter caught my resume and saw robotics and plastics. I was a perfect fit for this tier 1 auto supplier, and the money was actually really good. I was on track to pay off all my old debts in under two years but 10 months later I bought a new car, and a few months after that things started going off the rails. They fired a bunch of people that shouldn't have been fired and it started a chain reaction. People were already overworked, so the resignations started piling in. On top of that, they were increasing monthly insurance premiums by $250! Suddenly this wasn't looking like a place I wanted to be anymore, so my resignation was about to be added to that pile.
But before I left, I started putting out job applications on Indeed, and wouldn't you know it, I got a lot of responses. Some good, some bad, but then there was this one response from a long shot. I honestly didn't believe it at first. They reached out again, but I thought it was just some automated form they send to everyone who clicked. After the 3rd Letter I called them. Like a dork, I naively asked if they were serious about wanting to hire me, and the person said, "Yes! We've tried to contact you three times already!"
Sometimes I can be such a dense headed putz! Fortunately for me, their impression was more professional, and the interview went great! I got the job, and kissed my robots goodbye for a second time. I really miss those guys.
So in a way it's like when I started working at the plastics factory. I'm on the night shift, which is what I prefer, the work is easy, the environment is laid back, the coworkers are great, they benefits are nice, and frankly the pay ain't too shabby. Like most companies, they have their strengths and weaknesses, but over all, I feel like this is a place I can hang around till I retire.
So that's that. I'm still alive and kickin'. The house is a mess, but I'm grateful to have a home. I still owe an obscene amount of money to my creditors, but my bills are paid. I've even been dating someone who I have almost nothing in common with, but we like each other's company, and she doesn't seem to mind my warped sense of humor. She's also trying to get me to lose weight and make better food choices. (Yes, I am way too fat again. Go figure.)
Kudos
So a special thanks to everyone who's contributed to the content of this site over the years. I'm sorry I haven't been maintaining it of late, and even sorrier still that I have decided to retire the submission page. It isn't here now. The submission page went away. The submission page is gone.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this site just yet, but if you have any suggestions, you can leave me a comment here or contact me through email. My username is flush2x on gmail, and from there I'll let you figure it out.
Flush Twice is a JOTD (Joke of the Day) website. New jokes are published every Monday through Friday (midnight EST). There is also a comic and a personal blog in the sidebar that updates on the weekends. We’ve been operating since May of 2003.
Jokes are generously provided by friends and visitors such as yourself. If you would like to contribute, please check out our submission page, or e-mail flush2x@gmail.com. If you know anyone who constantly e-mails you jokes, forward them to us! We’ll take what we can get!
So what makes a joke funny?
It all boils down to a sudden shift in perception. The story starts you thinking one way, then the punchline turns that thinking on its ear. The art of the joke is to craft a short story that isn’t overly contrived, then deliver a punchline that suddenly shifts your perception about the story you were being told.
Many of the jokes on this site are offensive, and we make no apologies for it. Offensive jokes work by making the reader uncomfortable through the use of a taboo subject thus enhancing the underlying humor. Without the offensive element, the joke would simply not be as funny.
