ByeBoring Jokes, Funny Audio and Videos

The good news and the bad news for Saddam’s doubles…
All eight of Saddam Hussein’s body doubles were gathered in a bunker in
downtown Baghdad.
Tariq Aziz, the Deputy Prime Minister, walked in and said, “I’ve got good news
and bad news. The good news is that Saddam is still alive, so you all still have
a job.”
One of the doubles spoke up and said, “what’s the bad news”?
“He’s lost an arm.”

First Lady Hillary Clinton and Attorney General Janet Reno . . .
. . . were having one of those girl to girl talks. Hillary says to Janet,
You’re lucky that you don’t have to put up with men having sex with you. I have
to put up with Bill, and there is no telling where he last had his.”
Janet responded. “Just because I am considered ugly, doesn’t mean I don’t have
to fight off unwelcome sexual advances.”
Hillary asks, “Well how do you deal with the problem?”
Janet: “Whenever I feel that a guy is getting ready to make a pass at me, I
muster all my might and squeeze out the loudest, nastiest, fart I can.”
Well, that night, Bill was already in bed with the lights out when Hillary
headed for bed. She could hear him start to stir, and knew that he would be
wanting some action. She had been saving her farts all day, and was ready for
him. She tenses up her butt cheeks and forces out the most disgusting sounding
fart you could imagine.
Bill rolls over and says, “Is that you Janet?”

Here’s something everyone should probably know:
You may remember that on July 2, 1947, witnesses claim a spaceship with four
aliens aboard crashed on a sheep-and-cattle ranch outside Roswell, New Mexico.
This is an incident, of course, that many say has been covered up by the
government.
However, you may not know that on March 31,1948, exactly nine months after
that day, Al Gore was born.
Now, that clears up a lot of things.

Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Clinton. So you want to buy the old Rye Brook place, that’s
2.2 million, and with the customary 20 percent down, that’s $440,000, leaving a
mortgage of $1,760,000. Now let’s have a look at your financial statements.
Let’s see, Mr. Clinton, you are the president of the United States, of course,
and your salary is $200,000 a year. We recommend buying a house that costs no
more than two and a half times your annual salary. That means you should be
looking for something around $500,000, perhaps a nice brick rancher?
And I see here that you’ll be out of a job in 16 months or so. What will you
do then? Open a library? In Little Rock? Arkansas? Wow. I bet that will be some
kind of moneymaker.
Mrs. Clinton, you’re running for Senate, right? Senators are paid $130,000
year-assuming, of course, she’s elected, so even with your pension you’re still
looking at a house in the $825,000 range. Maybe a nice center hall colonial.
Mrs. Clinton, you haven’t worked outside the house since 1991? But you did
some volunteer work, I see. You tried to overhaul the entire national health
care system? I see. But no one was interested? But you have other experience? I
see you had several business ventures back in Arkansas. How about this
Whitewater Development
Corp.? It went bankrupt. And Madison Guaranty? Bankrupt. And Castle Grande?
Bankrupt, too. You actually did go to Yale you claim? A little bad luck with the
law, too, I see. Three of your business partners went to jail.
This is embarrassing, I know, but we have to ask because it does, after all,
affect your ability to pay. Any problems in your marriage? No? Fine.
Let’s look at your assets: you owe $4.5 million Mr. Clinton? How do you expect
to pay that off? You’re hoping people will donate to a special fund? So
basically you’re relying on the kindness of strangers.
You also have some serious expenses. A kid at Stanford has got to be setting
you back $30,000 to $35,000 a year, probably more with the air fares. And she
wants to go to medical school?
Any legal problems? I see a $90,000 fine for perjury. I guess that rules out
putting your law degree to work. Say, how do we know you’re not lying on you
loan application? Of course it would look a lot better if you WERE lying.
Are there any other legal matters we should know about? Mrs. Clinton? You
don’t think she’s going to get hit with a perjury or obstruction of justice rap.
But we’re not totally sure, right? That means there’s a remote possibility-note
that I say “remote” that you could be trying to pay off a $1.76 million mortgage
while making 12 cents an hour stitching mailbags for the feds, and while Mr.
Clinton is trying to make a go of a library in Little Rock.
Let’s review the situation. One of you is now unemployed and the other one
soon will be. Your business partners are in jail. You have debts equivalent to
over 22 times your annual income that you’re hoping someone is going to come
along and pay. And a looming criminal indictment. Your tangible assets seem to
consist of an old Ford.
We’ll give you a call.

Jerry Falwell was seated next to President Clinton . . .
. . . on a recent airplane flight. After the plane was airborne, the flight
attendant came around for drink orders.

The Reverend Mr. Falwell replied in disgust, “Madam, I’d rather be savagely
raped by a brazen whore than let liquor touch my lips!”
Hearing that, the President handed his drink back to the attendant and said,
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize there was a choice. I’ll have what he’s having.”

Dear Abby: I am a crack dealer in New Jersey ..
… who has recently been diagnosed as a carrier of the HIV virus. My parents
live in a suburb of Philadelphia, is married to a transvestite. My father and
mother have recently been arrested for growing and selling marijuana and are
currently dependent on my other two sisters, who are prostitutes in.
I have two brothers. One is currently serving a non-parole life sentence in
WellingtonBronx and is still a part time “working girl” in a brothel.
Her time there is limited as we hope to open our own brothel with her as the
working manager. I am hoping my two sisters would be interested in joining our
team. Although I would prefer them not to prostitute themselves, it would get
them off the street, and hopefully, the heroin habits.
All thing considered, my main problem is this: I love my fiancée and look
forward to bringing her into the family and I certainly want to be totally
honest with her.
Should I tell her about my distant cousin who is French?
Signed, Worried About My Reputation.

A friend of mine is an officer in the naval reserve.
A few weeks ago, He was attending a conference that included admirals in both
the US and the French navies. At a cocktail reception, my friend found himself
in a small group that included an admiral from each of the two navies.
The French admiral started complaining that whereas Europeans learned many
languages, Americans only learned English. He then asked. “Why is it that we
have to speak English in these conferences rather than you have to speak
French?”
Without even hesitating, the American admiral replied. “Maybe it is because we
arranged it so that you did not have to learn to speak German.”
The group became silent.

A long time ago, Britain and France were at war.
During one battle, the French captured an English Major. Taking the Major to
their headquarters, the French general began to question him.
The French general asked, “Why do you English officers all wear red coats?
Don’t you know the red material makes you easier targets for us to shoot at?”
In his bland English way, the major informed the general that the reason
English officers wear red coats is so that if they are shot, the blood won’t
show and the men they are leading won’t panic.
And that is why from that day to now all French Army officers wear brown
pants.

This is a moral question for you. It is an imaginary situation . . .
. . . but it is fun to decide what you would do.

What shutter speed would you use?

Good afternoon. I’m Al Gore, and I’d like to tell you about myself.
I know a lot about hardship, because I came into this world as a poor black
child in a tiny town in the backwoods of Tennessee. I was born in a log cabin
that I built with my own hands. I taught myself to read by candlelight and
helped support my 16 brothers and sisters by working summers as a deck hand on a
Mississippi River steamboat.
My mother taught me the value of education, so every day; I would walk 5 miles
to a one-room schoolhouse. I was a mischievous, fun-loving scamp, thought I
never dreamed that one-day, my youthful escapades would serve as the inspiration
for “Huckleberry Finn.”
Back then, black folks in the south were second-class citizens. One day, a
traveling minister came through town, and I asked him if anyone was ever going
to do something to guarantee civil rights for all Americans. Well, I guess I
made an impression. You see, the minister’s name was Martin Luther King, Jr.
My father was a United States Senator. He once perched me on his knee and
said, “Son, if you work hard and listen to your mama, someday you can live in a
hotel in Washington, D.C., and go to an exclusive prep school.”
But life of privilege was not for me. After getting my high school diploma, I
took a job in a hot, dirty textile mill. I was so appalled at the treatment of
the workers there that I organized a union. Later, that experience inspired a
movie - which is why, to this day, my close friends at the AFL-CIO call me
“Norma Rae.”
When word got out what an 18 year old factory worker had done, Harvard called
and offered me a scholarship. I captained the hockey team to four consecutive
national championships, but I also played football and was good enough to win
the Heisman Trophy.
During my college years, I lived in a housing project and moonlighted playing
lead guitar for a little rock band. You may have heard of it-the Rolling
Stones.
But there was a war going on, and I felt I had to serve my country. So
I enlisted in the U. S. Army and went to Vietnam. I was deeply opposed to the
war, but I did my duty as a soldier and came back home with the Medal of Honor
and the Croix de Guerre.
When I got back, I took a long journey across this great land of ours. I’ve
crossed the deserts bare, man, I’ve breathed the mountain air, man, I’ve
traveled, I’ve done my share, man, I’ve been everywhere. And the people I met at
truck stops and campgrounds and homeless shelters on that journey all said the
same thing: “Al, we need you in Washington.”
I knew they were right, but first I had to take care of some other
business—building the World Trade Center, founding the Audubon Society, doing
the clinical research that proved smoking caused cancer, and coming up with the
recipe for Mrs. Field’s chocolate chip cookies.
Finally, I deferred to the demands of the people of Tennessee and allowed them
to elect me to the House of Representatives and the Senate, where I established
the US Strategic Oil Reserve. And then one winter day nearly nine years ago, for
no particular reason, I answered the call of the people once again and took the
oath of office as Vice President of the United States.
Since then, I’ve been part of the most successful administration in American
history. And, in my spare time, I invented the Internet. Many times Bill Clinton
has been pondering some grave decision and has asked me what to do. And when I
would give him my thoughts, he would invariable say, “Of course. That’s
brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?”
During the darkest days of the impeachment battle, the president told me he
only wished he had listened when I told him to stay away form that dark-haired
intern. So after I decided to run for president, I sat down with him and asked
if he had any suggestions about how to conduct my campaign. And Bill Clinton
gave me a few simple words of advice-words I’ll never forget.
He looked me in the eye and he said, “Al, just tell the truth, it’s always
worked for me.”

A woman went to her doctor for advice . . .
. . . She told the physician that her husband had developed a penchant for
anal sex, and she wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.
The Doctor asked, “Do you enjoy it?”
She said that she did.
He asked, “Does it hurt you?” She said no.
The Doctor then told her, “Well, then, there’s no reason that you shouldn’t
practice anal sex, if that’s what you like, so long as you take care not to get
pregnant.” The woman was mystified.
She asked, “You can get pregnant from anal sex?”
The Doctor replied, “Of course. Where do you think democratic politicians come
from?”