Renegade

5 Second rule

Happy heavenly birthday Pete.

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 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.

Have you got a surly, over-indulged, thoroughly spoilt bastard teenager that you’ve simply had enough of? Well don’t despair, you may qualify for the brand new ‘little shit disposal scheme’ that will be available for all Bexley residents in the coming weeks. Here’s how it works: Simply answer YES to 3 or more of the following questions and you may be eligible for a free removal of the ungrateful little oxygen thief from your life forever! *Unfortunately the scheme is only available for male teenagers between the age of 13 to 16 initially, but it’s hoped that if successful, it will be available for all little shits in the borough by the summer of 2026 Remember, answer YES to 3 of the following questions to qualify: Does your teenage son.. 1. Own every conceivable luxury afforded to them but still remains a vile little bastard with a personality that makes Liam Gallagher seem almost pleasant? 2. Is his room decked out like a Saudi Princes boudoir, with more tech equipment than the Bang and Olufsen stock room? 3. Did his mountain bike, which inexplicably he insists on riding exclusively on the back wheel like some sort of piss poor circus act, whist weaving in and out of traffic on Bexleyheath broadway, cost more than £800? 4. Does the jumped up little hood rat talk with a ludicrous sort of comedy Jamaican style accent, like he’s been given elocution lessons by Ali G? 5. Does he refer to policemen as ‘Feds’ and females as either ‘hoes’ or ‘dem bitches’ describe himself as a ‘roadman’ or has he ever had imaginary ‘beef’ with a rival gang of similar over privileged kids such as the Sidcup Man-dem? 6. Does he wear a ‘man bag’ diagonally across him, usually made by Nike but quite possibly Gucci, which contains the very latest iPhone model, with unlimited minutes and data but is always strangely unavailable, or out of battery, when you try to get hold of the little rat bag? 7. Was he allowed to play the ultra violent video game Grand theft auto from a tender age and is therefore comfortable with the idea of ‘blazin’ pimps, ‘shankin’ hookers and clubbing ‘dem feds’ with baseball bats? 8. Is his name Alfie, Reece or Kyle? 9. Does he swagger down the street, with his Under Armour track bottoms round his arse, like he’s dragging a club foot, with both his hands inside his pants, as if he’s in downtown Los Angeles rather than outside Pets at Home in Crayford? 10. Did he laugh uncontrollably when you suggested that he should perhaps do a paper round, whilst you continue to reward him £100 per week ‘pocket money’ for doing precisely fuck all? 11. Does his musical tastes lean towards drum n bass, whatever that is? 12. Did he demand a £600 stone island tracksuit for Christmas? 13. Has it been over 18months since you’ve had any sort of meaningful conversation with the monosyllabic cocky little bastard? 14. Does he own over 2 grands worth of trainers? 15. Have you ever considered hiring a hitman? 16: Has he been given his very own attention deficit disorder label at school yet? Please forward the filled in questionnaire to the ‘little shit disposal scheme’ at the Thamesmead crushing facility and a member of the administration team will be in touch. If successful the offending over indulged little shit will be picked up free of charge and disposed of in an environmentally friendly way, although some of the staff might help out with a good hiding now and again. We apologise for not being able to accommodate ginger teenagers at this time but their wiry hair clogs up the filter system on the crusher. Your statutory rights are not affected. Terms and conditions apply.

If this was your maid what would you have her clean first

Little Johnny woke up in the middle of the night and went to the bathroom. On the way back to bed, he passed his parents room. When he looked in, he noticed the covers bouncing. He called to his dad, "Hey Dad, what are you doing?" The dad answered, "Playing Cards". Little Johnny asked, "Whose your partner?" The dad answered, "Your mum". Little Johnny then passed by his older sister's room. Again, he noticed the covers bouncing. He called to his sister, "Hey Sis, what are you doing?" The sister answered, "Playing Cards." Little Johnny asked, "Whose your partner?" She answered, "My boyfriend, Paul." A little later, the Dad got up and went to the bathroom (naturally). As he passed Little Johnny's room, he noticed the covers bouncing. He called to his son, "Hey son, what are you doing?" Little Johnny answered, "Playing Cards." The Dad asked, "Really? Whose your partner?" Little Johnny answered,... "You don't need a partner if you have a good hand!

Yes. I was up there last week and didn't see one that was standing.

The Maerdy ? Rhigos

Black Mountains

A flat-chested young lady went to Dr.Rustom about enlarging her breasts. Dr Rustom advised her 'Every day after your shower, rub your chest and say, 'Scooby doobie doobies, I want bigger boobies!' She did this faithfully for several months! To her utter amazement she grew terrific D-cup boobs! One morning she was running late, got on the bus, and in a panic realized she had forgotten her morning ritual. Frightened she might lose her lovely boobs if she didn't recite the little rhyme, she stood right there in the middle aisle of the bus, closed her eyes and said, 'Scooby doobie, doobies, I want bigger boobies.' Buckster who was sitting nearby looked at her and asked 'Oh! Are you a patient of Dr. 'Rustom 's?' 'Yes I am.. How did you know?' He winked and replied, "Hickory dickory dock...."

A couple was watching a Discovery Channel special about an African bush tribe where the men all had manhoods measuring 24 inches. According to the show, when boys reached a certain age, they tied a string around their shaft, attaching a weight to the other end. Over time, the weight stretched it to an impressive 24 inches. Later that night, as the husband stepped out of the shower, his wife glanced down and playfully suggested, “How about we try that African string-and-weight technique?” Intrigued, the husband agreed. They tied a string, attached a small weight, and waited for nature to take its course. A few days later, the wife checked in. “So, how’s our little tribal experiment going?” “Well,” the husband said, “we’re about halfway there.” “Wow, you’ve grown to 12 inches?” she asked excitedly. “No… it’s turned black.”

If you are 40 or older you will think this is hilarious!!!! When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears with their tedious shite about how hard things were. When they were growing up; what with walking Twenty-five miles to school every morning.... Uphill... barefoot... BOTH ways Yadda, yadda, yadda And I remember promising myself that when I grew up, there was no way in hell I was going to lay a bunch of shit like that on my kids about how hard I had it and how easy they've got it! But now that... I'm over the ripe old age of forty, I can't help but look around and notice the youth of today. You've got it so easy! I mean, compared to my childhood, you live in a FUCKING UTOPIA! And I hate to say it, but you kids today, you don't know how good you've got it! I mean, when I was a kid we didn't have The Internet. If we wanted to know something, we had to go to the bloody library and look it up ourselves, in the card catalogue!! There was no email!! We had to actually write somebody a letter - with a pen! Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put it in the mailbox and it would take, like, a week to get there! Stamps were 5 pence! Child Protective Services didn't care if our parents beat us. As a matter of fact, the parents of all my friends also had permission to kick the shit out of us! Nowhere was safe! There were no MP3' s or Napsters! If you wanted to steal music, you had to hitchhike to the record store and shoplift it yourself! Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio and the DJ would usually talk over the beginning and fuck it all up! There were no CD players! We had tape decks in our car. We'd play our favorite tape and "eject" it when finished and the tape would come undone. Cause - that's how we rolled, dig? We didn't have fancy crap like Call Waiting! If you were on the phone and somebody else called they got a busy signal, that's it! And we didn't have fancy Caller ID either! When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was! It could be your school, your mum, your boss, your bookie, your drug dealer, a collections agent, you just didn't know!!! You had to pick it up and take your chances, mister! We didn't have any fancy Sony Playstation video games with high-resolution 3-D graphics! We had the Atari 2600! With games like 'Space Invaders' and 'Asteroids'. Your guy was a little square! You actually had to use your imagination!! And there were no multiple levels or screens, it was just one screen... forever! And you could never win. The game just kept getting harder and harder and faster and faster until you died! Just like LIFE! You had to use a little book called a TV Guide to find out what was on! You were screwed when it came to channel surfing! You had to get off your ass and walk over to the TV to change the channel! NO REMOTES!!! There was no Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons on Saturday Morning. Do you hear what I'm saying!?! We had to wait ALL WEEK for cartoons, you SPOILED LITTLE RAT BASTARDS!! And we didn't have microwaves, if we wanted to heat something up we had to use the cooker! Imagine that! That's exactly what I'm talking about! You kids today have got it too easy. You're spoiled. You little arseholes wouldn't have lasted five minutes back in 1970 or before! Regards, Grumpy Ole Fucker

Try riding a horse across it. Great fun NOT.

A man walked out to the street and caught a taxi just going by. He got into the taxi, and the cabbie said, "Perfect timing. You're just like Brian! Passenger: "Who?" Cabbie: "Brian Sullivan. He's a guy who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happen like that to Brian Sullivan, every single time." Passenger: "There are always a few clouds over everybody." Cabbie: "Not Brian Sullivan. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy." Passenger: "Sounds like he was something really special." Cabbie: "There's more. He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody's birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Brian Sullivan, he could do everything right." Passenger: "Wow. Some guy then." Cabbie: "He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams. Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Brian, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good. He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too. He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Brian Sullivan." Passenger: "An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?" Cabbie: "Well, I never actually met Brian. He died. I'm married to his feckin' widow"