A farmer in Alabama was driving across a bridge in his pickup truck when he noticed a man standing on the rail of the bridge ready to jump to his death in the river below.
The farmer stopped his truck, ran up to the man and said, “Hey, why are you doing this?”
The man replied, “Well, I have nothing to live for.”
The farmer replied, “Well, think of your wife and children!”
The jumper replied, “I have no wife or children.”
“Well, then think of your mother and father!”
The man replied, “Mom and Dad passed on many years back.”
The Alabama man then said, “Well, think of General Robert E. Lee!”
The would-be jumper replied, “Who?”
With that the farmer said, “Jump you damn Yankee, jump!”
While looking though an old photo album of relatives long gone, the young lady asked, “Grandma, do you ever think about the hereafter?”
“I think about the hereafter every day,” the grandmother replied. “Every time I walk into a room or open a closet door, I think, ‘Now what was I here after?;”
A preacher on his deathbed summoned his doctor and lawyer. The two came, and he asked them to sit on either side of his bed and hold his hands.
They sat for a long while until the doctor quietly said, ”You don’t have long on this earth, Reverend. Shouldn’t you tell us why you asked us to come.”
The old preacher wheezed and said ”Well, Jesus died between two thieves, and that’s the way I want to go too.”
After his exam, the doctor said to the elderly man, “You appear to be in good health. Do you have any medical concerns you would like to ask me about?”
“In fact, I do,” said the old man. “After I make love to my wife, the first time I am usually hot and sweaty, and then after we make love the second time, I am usually cold and chilly.”
After examining his elderly wife, the doctor said, “Everything appears to be fine. Do you have any medical concerns that you would like to discuss with me?” The lady replied that she had no questions or concerns.
The doctor then said to her, “Your husband had an unusual concern. He claims that he is usually hot and sweaty after making love with you the first time, and then cold and chilly after the second time. Do you know why?”
“He’s being a silly old fart,” she replied. “The first time he makes love is in August, and the second time is in January!”
A group of nuns were attending a baseball game. Four men were sitting directly behind them.
Because the nun’s habits were partially blocking the view, the men decided to badger the nuns hoping that they’d get annoyed enough to move to another area.
In a very loud voice, the first guy said, “I think we should move to Utah. I hear there are only 100 nuns living there.”
Then the second guy spoke up and said, “Oh not there! We should go to Missouri! There are only 75 nuns living in that state!”
The third guy said, “I think we should go to Texas! There are only 50 nuns living in that whole state!”
The fourth guy said, “No, no, no! The place to go is Maine! There are only 25 nuns living there!”
The mother superior turned and stared the men down while using a very sweet and unnervingly calm voice. “Why don’t you all go to hell? There won’t be any nuns there!”
A retiree was given a set of golf clubs by his co-workers. Thinking he’d try the game, he asked the local pro for lessons, explaining that he knew nothing whatsoever about the game.
The pro showed him the stance and swing, then said, “Just hit the ball toward the flag on the first green.”
The novice teed up and smacked the ball straight onto the green, where it stopped inches from the hole. “Now what?” the fellow asked the speechless pro.
“Well, you’re supposed to hit the ball into the cup,” the pro sheepishly said.
“Oh great!” exclaimed the beginner. “NOW you tell me!”
After spending a weekend in Las Vegas, a man came home with a cool $100,000 in cash winnings. Not wanting anyone to know about it, he dug a hole in the back yard and hid the money in it.
The next morning he walked outside and found someone had dug it up and taken the money. He noticed the footprints from the hole led to the house next door where his deaf-mute neighbor lived.
Down the street lived a professor who understood sign language. Knowing this, the enraged man grabbed his pistol, dragged the professor to the deaf man’s house and held the deaf man at gunpoint
The man growled at the professor, “Tell this guy that if he doesn’t tell me where my money is, I’ll kill him!”
The professor conveyed the message, and the deaf-mute replied in sign language: “I hid it in my backyard, underneath the cherry tree.”
The professor turned to the man with the gun and said, “He said he will never tell you. He would rather die first.”
A young secretary had just returned from her vacation and was telling her boss about the fun time she had. She then asked him for two weeks leave so that she could get married.
“But you just had two weeks off,” her boss protested. “Why didn’t you get married then?”
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.
