A boy standing on a corner selling fish kept announcing, “Dam fish for sale, dam fish for sale!”
A preacher walked up and asked why he was calling them dam fish.
The kid said, “I caught them at the dam, so they’re dam fish.”
The preacher bought some, took them home and asked his wife to cook the dam fish.
His wife looked at him in bewilderment and said, “Preachers aren’t supposed to talk like that.”
The preacher explained why they were dam fish, and she agreed to cook them. When dinner was ready and everyone was sitting down, the preacher asked his son to pass him the dam fish.
His son replied, “That’s the spirit dad, now pass the fucking potatoes!”
Make the world your playground.
Whenever you miss the sandbox, cover it up. Dragging a sock over it helps.
If you can’t get your way, lay across the keyboard till you do.
When you are hungry, meow loudly so they feed you just to shut you up.
Always find a good patch of sun to nap in.
Nap often.
When in trouble, just purr and look cute.
Life is hard, and then you nap.
Curiosity never killed anything except maybe a few hours.
When in doubt, cop an attitude.
Variety is the spice of life. One day, ignore people; the next day, annoy them.
Climb your way to the top, that’s why the curtains are there.
Make your mark in the world, or at least spray in each corner.
Always give generously; a bird or rodent left on the bed tells them, “I care”.
It’s bad enough when your life has gone to crap, but when people start nagging you to express yourself… Then you know you’ve got to dig deep and get over whatever is bugging you quickly before the shit gets out of hand.
It’s true… Being in the military does condition you to be more afraid of being in the wrong place at the wrong time than the thought of bullets and shrapnel whizzing passed your vital organs.
Q: I’ve heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true?
A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that’s it… don’t waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that’s like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.
Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?
A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.
Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?
A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up!
Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?
A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.
Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: Can’t think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain…Good!
Q: Aren’t fried foods bad for you?
A: YOU’RE NOT LISTENING!!!. Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they’re permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?
Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?
A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.
Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: Are you crazy? HELLO …… Cocoa beans! Another vegetable!!! It’s the best feel-good food around!
Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.
Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?
A: Hey! ‘Round’ is a shape!
Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.
And remember: “Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways – Chardonnay in one hand – chocolate in the other – body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming “WOO HOO, What a Ride!”
Seriously though… Forget the fads. Forget the pills. Take care of yourself and eat balanced meals. Eat less andexercise. It’s the best thing you can do for yourself.
Unfortunately Flush Twice doesn’t get much traffic. Probably because the jokes aren’t all that original, and the comic isn’t all that good. And so I invoke my mantra: If you can’t do something well, learn to enjoy doing it poorly.
A guy walks into a bar and notices a very large jar on the counter and sees it’s filled to the brim with $10 bills… The man guesses there must be thousands of dollars in it! He approaches the bartender and asks,”What’s up with the jar?”
“Well, you pay ten dollars, and IF you pass three tests you get all the money.”
The man certainly isn’t going to pass this up. “What are the three tests?”
“Pay FIRST…” says the bartender, “Those are the rules.” So the man gives him the $10 and the bartender drops it into the jar,”OK,” the bartender says, “here’s what you need to do…
“FIRST: You have to drink that ENTIRE GALLON of pepper tequila – the WHOLE thing, all at ONCE and you CAN’T make a face while doing it…
“SECOND: There’s a pit bull chained-up out back with a sore tooth…You have to REMOVE the tooth with your BARE HANDS…
“THIRD: There’s a 90 year-old woman upstairs who has NEVER reached orgasm during intercourse…You’ve gotta MAKE THINGS RIGHT for her.”
The man is stunned… “I KNOW I paid my 10 bucks…but I’m not an IDIOT! I WON’T DO IT!!! You have to be NUTS to drink a gallon of pepper tequila, and then do those OTHER THINGS!!!”
“Your call,” says the bartender, “but your MONEY stays where it is.”
The man has a few drinks…then a few more. Finally, he asks, “WHERRRRE’S ZAAAT TEQUIIIILA?!”
He grabs the gallon with both hands and downs it with a big slurp. Tears are streaming down both cheeks, but he doesn’t make a face.
Next he staggers out back where the pit bull is chained-up. The people inside the bar hear a HUGE, NOISY SCUFFLE going on outside.
They hear the pit bull barking, the guy screaming, the pit bull yelping, and then – SILENCE .
Just when they think the man SURELY must be dead, he staggers back into the bar with his shirt ripped and large, bloody scratches all over his body.
“NOW,”he says,”WHERES THE OLD WOMAN WITH THE SORE TOOTH?!”
I suppose I should start by telling you how it happened. It was an otherwise nondescript day back in February. I went to get out of my rocker-recliner and when I scooched forward to get up, the front armrests bottomed out on the floor as they always do. Unbeknownst to me, Alex just happened to be laying down there that fateful day, and his left arm managed to get pinched.
Of course he yowled the loudest I'd ever heard him yell in his entire life and shot off into the basement. I felt terrible about it, but then I had no way of knowing he was down there when I went to get up. After a short while, Alex came back upstairs, and I was able to check for injury.
Shockingly, there were no broken bones, no blood, and Alex was able to walk just fine. It almost seemed cartoonish at the time, but down the left side of his left arm was a ribbon of flattened fur. He seemed somewhat indifferent to this, and acted like he just wanted to put the whole thing behind him. Seeing as Alex didn't appear to be in immediate danger, I took a "wait and see" position.
Over the next month, the "ribbon" began to shrink inward towards his elbow. I took this as a good sign that his injury was healing naturally and everything would be fine... But things were not fine. After a month and a half, his elbow began to swell. By mid-April I had to take him in to the vet for an exam.
The vet did a fair bit of Hmmm'ing and scrunched her face a lot. She didn't want to poke it with anything for fear it might introduce something. She took some measurements and expressed a "wait and see" attitude. I then scheduled a follow up appointment two months out.
Only a month later in mid-May, the swelling on his elbow had increased to the point that it started to ulcer. I called the vet and got him in immediately. This time they tried to drain it, but it went horribly. After the first stick, Alex started squirting blood all over the place, and the vet and technician freaked out and were running around looking for towels while I had to hold my cat down in a growing pool of his own blood.
After they got things back under control, she tried again with a larger needle, and went in from a different direction. After plunging to the center of the mass, she remarked that it was solid and that the fluid had probably dispersed into the surrounding tissue. She then went on to suggest that it might even be "malignant" and recommended a biopsy. They gave me an estimate for the procedure that ran from $500 to $800. I immediately left and made an appointment with another vet that I had gone to in the past.
The next day, my alternate vet didn't have any good news. By now, Alex's arm was very infected. At first he suggested that the arm would have to come off, but after noting Alex's age, he pulled back and recommended palliative care. I pushed for a quote on the cost of an amputation, and he informed me it would be around $3500 at the lowest, and that at his age, Alex would only live another 6 months after the surgery, and to just stick with palliative care.
They gave Alex a shot of antibiotics, a shot for long term pain management, prednisolone tablets and a liquid antibiotic, along with an appointment to come back about a month later.
Over the memorial day weekend, I cleaned Alex's wound and administered his meds. Alex was still Alex though. He obviously wanted to live, so I began making phone calls. Eventually I got in touch with the Humane Society. It took week and a half to finally get in, but after looking at Alex's arm, their surgeon said that the arm was "not compatible with long term survival" and agreed to amputate it... in two weeks.
That was the longest two weeks of my life.
Every day that thing on his elbow grew bigger and bigger. In the final week, it started to split open. It looked like something out of a horror movie. The outer layer of skin died off and eventually I had to cut the hard chunk of dried flesh off with scissors. Fortunately the antibiotics prescribed by the second vet kept the wound site free from infection.
And through all of this, Alex was still Alex. He just kept on living his life like nothing was wrong. Even with that thing on his arm, he still walked normal, climbed up and down the stairs, jumped on the bed, table, dresser, et cetera. Part of me knew this cat was gonna make it, but part of me was scared that his arm was going to go septic and Alex would die.
I felt relieved on the day of the surgery. We made it through to this day! Alex would be a tripod, but he was going to live! I dropped Alex off at the Human Society and went to work expecting to pick him up between 4:00 pm and 5:00 pm.
My phone rang a little before noon. The voice on the other end informed me that the surgery had gone fine, and they didn't notice anything wrong during the procedure, but in the recovery room, Alex's heart rate began to drop, he went non-responsive, and his pupils dilated. The surgeon explained that sometimes a blood clot will break free during the surgery and make its way into the brain. Alex had had a stroke. There was nothing more they could do.
Moments later, Alex died.
Usually I show off pictures of Gail here, (she's doing find by the way). Gail is a fun dog who loves to constantly run and play, but Alex was the one that I could really count on for affection. He would hop up on my chest when I was resting in my recliner and purr. He would be there at the door to greet me when I came home. He would keep me company when I pooped. He would wake me in the morning, and insist I gave him a thorough petting before I went to sleep at night. He talked to me with his incessant meows, and made sure I never left the house without filling the food and water bowls. Alex loved to get his "full kitty massage" complete with belly rubs, and he was the kind of cat that would walk up and headbutt me to let me know I was his as much as he was mine.
The house feels so empty without him now.
I miss you Alex,
-f2x
July 2025
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GET THE PLUNGER!
What is Flush Twice?
Flush Twice has been around since May of 2003. It started out as a JOTD (Joke of the Day) website. New jokes were published every weekday. Over the years, good jokes were increasingly hard to come by, and eventually they got so rare that I just stopped trying to publish them.
Since 2004 there has also been an eponymous comic. I still occasionally publish a new one on Saturdays. It’s also rare anymore, but sometimes it happens.
Here lately I’ve been posting a “Link of the Day”. For the time being, I will be featuring a new website from my enormous collection of bookmarked websites every weekday. None of it is solicited promotions, and no one is paying me to feature their site. These are just websites that at one time I thought were interesting enough to add to my bookmarks folder.
I highly encourage using some kind of ad blocking extension before clicking on any of these links. You’ll also hear me say this phrase a lot about these posts: “They can’t all be winners.” But it’s better than just leaving the site abandoned.
The jokes were generously provided by friends and visitors such as yourself. I want to express my eternal thanks to everyone over the years who helped contribute to the collection.
So what is it that 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 I 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.
