Did you hear about the man who went to the chiropodist’s and put his willy on the table?
When the chiropodist told him it wasn’t a foot, he replied, “I know, but I’m proud it’s 11 inches.”
* * *
“A packet of condoms please,” said the man to the sales assistant.
“What size, sir?” she asked.
“Er…I don’t know.”
“Well, that’s no problem,” she replied. “If you go into the other room, you’ll find a board with a selection of different holes. Just pop your todger in them until you find the right size.”
So the man did as he was told, little realising that every time he tried a different hole, the sales assistant was on the other side fondling it. Eventually, he was satisfied he had found the correct size, so returned to the counter.
“Everything alright, sir?” she asked.
“Couldn’t be better,” he replied, “but forget the condoms, just sell me the board.”
* * *
The man rang the local mental institution and asked to speak to the patient in room 24.
“I’m sorry, sir, room 24 is unoccupied at present.”
“Whoopee,” shouted the man. “I did it, I escaped.”
* * *
The poor man had a dreadful medical problem, so he went along to the chemist to see if they could help him.
Unfortunately, the shop was owned by two spinsters, but it was too late to walk out, so blushing profusely, he explained that he had a permanent erection and what could they give him for it.
“Just a moment, Sir” and the two women went into the back room to confer.
A couple of minutes later, they returned smiling happily.
“Okay, we’ve talked it over and we can offer you a half partnership in the shop and £1,000 cash.”
* * *
The local Mayor decided to do something useful for the community so went along to the sperm bank to make a donation. “Have you been before?” asked the receptionist.
“I believe I have,” replied the Mayor. “You’ve probably got my notes from last time.”
“Oh yes,” replied the girl. “You’re going to need some help so I’ll put you in our category D area.”
“Wait a minute, what do you mean, category D! I don’t need any help!”
“I’m sorry, Sir, but it says in your notes that you’re a clueless wanker.”
* * *
Jack’s wife went along to the optician’s for her annual checkup.
“Right,” said the optician. “Can you read the bottom line?”
After a few moments she shook her head.
“OK, try the next line.”
Again she shook her head. This went on until they got to the largest letter at the top but she still shook her head. By this time the optician was so frustrated he unzipped his trousers, pulled out his willy and shouted, “Well, can you see this?”
“Oh yes,” she replied.
“Now I know what the trouble is,” he said. “You’re cockeyed.”
* * *
To assess Pete’s state of mind the psychiatrist told him he was going to make some random marks on the paper and Pete was to tell him what he saw.
After the first mark Pete replied, “That’s Madonna in the nude.”
For the second mark he said, “That’s my next door neighbour stark naked,” and for the third mark, “That’s the whole of my wife’s knitting circle with no clothes on.”
The psychiatrist looked up exasperated.
“The trouble with you, Pete, is that you’re obsessed with sex.”
“Get off,” retorted Pete angrily. “You’re the one drawing the dirty pictures.”
* * *
Did you hear about the psychiatrist who kept his wife under the bed?
He thought she was a little potty.
* * *
A very rich woman reaches middle age and decides to have a face-lift to keep her looking young. She goes along to the most famous and wickedly expensive surgeon in town and he explains he has discovered a new and revolutionary technique.
“Once I have performed the operation, I will put two little screws behind each ear and whenever you see a little wrinkle appear, you just gently turn the screws and it will disappear.”
The technique is a wonderful success and for over 10 years the woman keeps a wrinkle-free face by turning the screws when necessary. However, one day she notices she has bags under her eyes but when she turns the screws, no matter how many times, the bags will not go away. In a blind panic she rushes back to the surgeon.
“Look what’s happened,” she wails. “I can’t get rid of them.”
The surgeon replies, “Madam, you have used the screws so much that those bags under your eyes are your breasts and if you continue to turn the screws, you’ll end up with a beard.”
* * *
“I am very sorry to say that I have two bad pieces of news for you,” said the doctor to his patient.
“Oh dear, what is it?” asked the patient.
“You have only 24 hours to live,” came the reply.
“Oh no, what other piece of bad news could there be?”
“I tried to get you on the phone all day yesterday.”