Two women were playing golf. One teed off and watched in horror as her ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole. The ball hit one of the men. He immediately clasped his hands together at his groin, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in agony.
The woman rushed down to the man, and immediately began to apologize. ‘Please allow me to help. I’m a Physical Therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you’d allow me, she told him.
‘Oh, no, I’ll be all right. I’ll be fine in a few minutes,’ the man replied. He was in obvious agony, lying in the fetal position, still clasping his hands there at his groin.
At her persistence, however, he finally allowed her to help. She gently took his hands away and laid them to the side, loosened his pants and put her hands inside. She administered tender and artful massage for several long moments and asked, ‘How does that feel’?
He replied: It feels great, but I still think my thumb’s broken!
WARNING: Before you utter any of these jokes, check over each shoulder twice or you may end up in traction.
How do you turn a fox into an elephant?
Marry It!
What is the difference between a battery and a woman?
A battery has a positive side.
What are the three fastest means of communication?
1) Television
2) Telephone
3) Telawoman
How are fat girls and mopeds alike?
They’re both fun to ride until your friends find out.
What should you give a woman who has everything?
A man to show her how to work it.
Why is the space between a woman’s breasts and her hips called a waist?
Because you could easily fit another pair of tits in there.
How do you make 5 pounds of fat look good?
Put a nipple on it.
Why do women rub their eyes when they wake up?
Because they don’t have balls to scratch.
Why do women fake orgasms ?
Because they think men care.
What do you say to a woman with 2 black eyes?
Nothing! She’s been told twice already.
If your wife keeps coming out of the kitchen to nag at you, what have you done wrong?
Made her chain too long.
How many men does it take to open a beer?
None. It should be opened when she brings it.
Why is a Laundromat a really bad place to pick up a woman?
Because a woman who can’t even afford a washing machine will probably never be able to support you.
Why do women have smaller feet than men?
It’s one of those ‘evolutionary things’ that allows them to stand closer to the kitchen sink.
How do you fix a woman’s watch?
You don’t. There is a clock on the oven.
Why do men pass gas more than women?
Because women can’t shut up long enough to build up the required pressure.
If your dog is barking at the back door and your wife is yelling at the front door, who do you let in first?
The dog, of course. He’ll shut up once you let him in.
What’s worse than a Male Chauvinist Pig?
A woman who won’t do what she’s told
I married a Miss Right.
I just didn’t know her first name was Always.
Scientists have discovered a food that diminishes a woman’s sex drive by 90%…
It’s called a Wedding Cake.
Why do men die before their wives?
They want to.
You know, women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head, a beer gut, and still think they are sexy.
A young woman had been taking golf lessons. She had just started playing her first round of golf when she suffered a bee sting. Her pain was so intense that she decided to return to the clubhouse for help and to complain.
Her golf pro saw her come into the clubhouse and asked, “Why are you back in so early? What’s wrong?”
“I was stung by a bee”, she said.
“Where”, he asked.
“Between the first and second hole”, she replied.
He nodded knowingly and said, “Then your stance is too wide.”
I am 60, and the Armed Forces thinks I’m too old to track down terrorists. You can’t be older than 42 to join the military. They’ve got the whole thing ass-backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn’t be able to join a military unit until you’re at least 35.
For starters:
Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy.
Young guys haven’t lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. ‘My back hurts! I can’t sleep, I’m tired and hungry’ We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some asshole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for a while.
An 18-year-old doesn’t even like to get up before 10 a.m. Old guys always get up early to pee so what the hell. Besides, like I said, ‘I’m tired and can’t sleep and since I’m already up, I may as well be up killing some fanatical s-of-a-b….
If captured we couldn’t spill the beans because we’d forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser.
Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We’re used to getting screamed and yelled at and we’re used to soft food. We’ve also developed an appreciation for guns. We’ve been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling.
They could lighten up on the obstacle course however. I’ve been in combat and didn’t see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training.
Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too. I’ve never seen anyone outrun a bullet.
An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He’s still learning to shave, to start up a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn’t figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head.
These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm’s way.
Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists. The last thing an enemy would want to see is a couple of million pissed off old farts with attitudes and automatic weapons who know that their best years are already behind them.
You think Men have attitudes? How about recruiting Women over 50 ..with PMS?
If nothing else, put us on border patrol. We will have it secured the first night!
A social worker from a big City in Massachusetts recently transferred to the Mountains of North Carolina and Georgia and was on the first tour of her new territory when she came upon the tiniest cabin she had ever seen in her life. Intrigued, she went up and knocked on the door. ‘Anybody home?’ she asked.
‘Yep,’ came a kid’s voice through the door.
‘Is your father there?’ asked the social worker.
‘Pa? Nope, he left afore Ma came in,’ said the kid..
‘Well, is your mother there?’ persisted the social worker.
‘Ma? Nope, she left just afore I got here,’ said the kid.
‘But,’ protested the social worker, ‘are you never together as a family?’
‘Sure, but not here,’ said the kid through the door. ‘This is the Outhouse!’
Two bachelor farmers were looking at a Sears catalog and admiring the models. One says to the other, ‘Have you seen the beautiful girls in this catalog?’
The second one replies, ‘Yes, they are very beautiful. And look at the price!’
The first one says, with wide eyes, ‘Wow, they aren’t very expensive. At this price, I’m buying one.’
The second farmer smiles and pats him on the back. ‘Good idea! Order one and if she’s as beautiful as she is in the catalog, I will get one too.’
Three weeks later, the one farmer asks his friend, ‘Did you ever receive the girl you ordered from the Sears catalog?’
The other replies ‘No, but it shouldn’t be long now. I got her clothes yesterday!’
It seems there were two brothers by the name of Jones. One was married & one was the proud owner of a dilapidated row boat.
Strangely enough when on the day John Jones’ wife died and his brothers boat filled with water & sank. A few days later a friendly old lady met Joe on the street & mistaking him for his brother John, said, “Oh Mr. Jones, I’m sorry to hear of your great loss,You must feel terrible, I’m sure.”
Just then Joe broke in saying, “Well I,m not one bit sorry. She was a rotten old thing right from the start”. Her bottom was all chewed up,she smelled of dead old fish & the first time I got into her she made water faster then anything you ever saw . She had a crack in her back and a pretty bad hole in the front. That hole got bigger & bigger every time I used her. She would leak like crazy. But this is what finished her. Four guys from the other side of town looking for a good time asked me if I’d rent her to them. Well I warned them what she was like but they said they didn’t care, they would take a crack at her anyway. The result was the crazy fools all tried to get into her at once,and it was too much for her, she cracked right up the middle.”
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.
