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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIMQXw-eyp7ImA9WhRRFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785</id><updated>2011-11-27T17:09:40.253-08:00</updated><category term="Knock Knock Jokes" /><category term="Idiot Jokes" /><category term="Top Ten Lists" /><category term="Animal Jokes" /><category term="Relationship Jokes" /><category term="Medical Jokes" /><category term="Sports Jokes" /><category term="6 Year Old Art" /><category term="Blonde Jokes" /><category term="Funny Jokes" /><category term="ButtFlucks" /><category term="Lawyer Jokes" /><category term="Political Jokes" /><category term="Reasons To Laugh" /><category term="Clean Jokes" /><category term="What is Buttfluck" /><category term="Funny One Liners" /><category term="Farmer Jokes" /><category term="It was funny back then" /><category term="More Links" /><category term="Disclaimer" /><category term="Yo Mama Jokes" /><category term="Bar Jokes" /><category term="Hunting Jokes" /><category term="Drunk Jokes" /><category term="Link To ButtFluck" /><category term="Restaurant Jokes" /><category term="Funny Thought" /><category term="Funny Pictures" /><category term="Pet Jokes" /><category term="Elderly Jokes" /><title>ButtFluck Funny Jokes</title><subtitle type="html">Funny jokes,Funny news,Funny pictures,Blonde jokes,Clean jokes,Lawyer jokes, and much more...</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>120</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/Buttfluck" /><feedburner:info uri="buttfluck" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>Buttfluck</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4FQn0zfCp7ImA9WxRSFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-8592163100242198090</id><published>2008-09-14T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T13:25:13.384-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-14T13:25:13.384-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Animal Jokes" /><title>Equal Opportunity Employer</title><content type="html">A local business was looking for office help. They put a sign in the window, stating the following: "HELP WANTED. Must be able to type, must be good with a computer and must be bilingual. We are an Equal Opportunity Employer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A short time afterwards, a dog trotted up to the window, saw the sign and went inside. He looked at the receptionist and wagged his tail, then walked over to the sign, looked at it and whined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting the idea, the receptionist got the office manager. The office manager looked at the dog and was surprised, to say the least. However, the dog looked determined, so he lead him into the office. Inside, the dog jumped up on the chair and stared at the manager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The manager said "I can't hire you. The sign says you have to be able to type." The dog jumped down, went to the typewriter and proceeded to type out a perfect letter. He took out the page and trotted over to the manager and gave it to him, then jumped back on the chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The manager was stunned, but then told the dog "the sign says you have to be good with a computer". The dog jumped down again and went to the computer. The dog proceeded to demonstrate his expertise with various programs and produced a sample spreadsheet and database and presented them to the manager&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time the manager was totally dumbfounded! He looked at the dog and said "I realize that you are a very intelligent dog and have some interesting abilities. However, I still can't give you the job."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog jumped down and went to a copy of the sign and put his paw on the sentences that told about being an . The manager said "Yes, but the sign also says that you have to be bilingual."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog looked at the manager calmly and said, "Meow!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-8592163100242198090?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/W7dacSXCZNc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/8592163100242198090?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/8592163100242198090?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/W7dacSXCZNc/equal-opportunity-employer.html" title="Equal Opportunity Employer" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/09/equal-opportunity-employer.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcBSHozeyp7ImA9WxdUGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-7491555168292784653</id><published>2008-08-05T15:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T15:40:59.483-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-05T15:40:59.483-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ButtFlucks" /><title>Steal my money will ya</title><content type="html">A second Florida man has been arrested on charges of making false 911 calls in as many days. An arrest report says 47-year-old Carlos Gutierrez was at the Hard Rock Hotel &amp;amp; Casino early Monday and called 911 to say the slot machine stole his money. The report says Gutierrez left the casino to place a second 911 call to say the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was arrested and charged with making a false 911 call. He's being held with no bail set.&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday another man was arrested after calling 911 five times during an argument with his brother. He demanded that dispatchers send deputies to help sort things out.&lt;br /&gt;And in northern Florida last week, a Jacksonville man called 911 to complain that a Subway left the sauce off a spicy Italian sandwich.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-7491555168292784653?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/Y1JBGm60e5E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/7491555168292784653?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/7491555168292784653?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/Y1JBGm60e5E/steal-my-money-will-ya.html" title="Steal my money will ya" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/08/steal-my-money-will-ya.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MFSXo8cCp7ImA9WxdUFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-96340876743605602</id><published>2008-08-02T00:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T00:16:58.478-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-02T00:16:58.478-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="It was funny back then" /><title>Oldest joke</title><content type="html">The world's oldest recorded joke has  been traced back to 1900 BC and suggests toilet humor was as  popular with the ancients as it is today.It is a saying of the Sumerians, who lived in what is now  southern Iraq and goes: "Something which has never occurred  since time immemorial; a young woman did not fart in her  husband's lap."                          It heads the world's oldest top 10 joke list published by  the &lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1217552821_0"&gt;University of Wolverhampton Thursday&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;  A 1600 BC gag about a pharaoh, said to be King Snofru,  comes second -- "How do you entertain a bored pharaoh? You sail  a boatload of young women dressed only in fishing nets down the  Nile and urge the pharaoh to go catch a fish."&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;  The oldest British joke dates back to the &lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1217552821_1"&gt;10th Century&lt;/span&gt; and  reveals the bawdy face of the &lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1217552821_2"&gt;Anglo-Saxons&lt;/span&gt; -- "What hangs at a  man's thigh and wants to poke the hole that it's often poked  before? Answer: A key."&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;  "Jokes have varied over the years, with some taking the  question and answer format while others are witty proverbs or  riddles," said the report's writer Dr Paul McDonald, senior  lecturer at the university.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;  "What they all share however, is a willingness to deal with  taboos and a degree of rebellion. Modern puns, Essex girl jokes  and toilet humor can all be traced back to the very earliest  jokes identified in this research."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-96340876743605602?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/cLpAwtkV8Pc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/96340876743605602?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/96340876743605602?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/cLpAwtkV8Pc/oldest-joke.html" title="Oldest joke" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/08/oldest-joke.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEDR38zfip7ImA9WxdUE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-7215027694514020333</id><published>2008-07-29T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T15:31:16.186-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-29T15:31:16.186-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ButtFlucks" /><title>Drunk Fill Up</title><content type="html">A drunken man broke into a small airport and tried to fill up his car's gas tank with jet fuel, police said. Police arrested the man, 20, on Sunday night for driving while intoxicated and attempted theft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man probably wasn't trying to save money. The aviation fuel in the pumps used for aircraft and race cars, was going for $5.97 a gallon, accessed by a credit card, authorities said.&lt;br /&gt;"We've had people try and steal gas here in the past," said Jim &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Meide&lt;/span&gt;, who works in operations at the county-run Reid-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hillview&lt;/span&gt; Airport in East San Jose&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-7215027694514020333?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/sgHczVUN3iQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/7215027694514020333?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/7215027694514020333?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/sgHczVUN3iQ/drunk-fill-up.html" title="Drunk Fill Up" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/drunk-fill-up.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8BQnY-fCp7ImA9WxdUE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-6156936282108087926</id><published>2008-07-29T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T13:37:33.854-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-29T13:37:33.854-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Yo Mama Jokes" /><title>Yo Mama Jokes I</title><content type="html">Yo mama so dumb that when she saw a sign that said "Free" next to a couch she took the sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo mama so old she knew Burger King when he was still a prince.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo mama so stupid she sold her car for gasoline money!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo mama so stupid that she tried to put M&amp;amp;M's in alphabetical order!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo mama so stupid it took her 2 hours to watch 60 Minutes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo mama so stupid that she puts lipstick on her head just to make-up her mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo mama so stupid she could trip over a cellphone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo mama so stupid she took the Pepsi challenge and chose Skippy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo mama so stupid she thinks &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Fleetwood&lt;/span&gt; Mac is a new hamburger at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;McDonalds&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo mama so stupid she makes Homer Simpson look like a Nobel Prize winner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-6156936282108087926?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/D9sJMU0SeX8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/6156936282108087926?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/6156936282108087926?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/D9sJMU0SeX8/yo-mama-jokes-i.html" title="Yo Mama Jokes I" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/yo-mama-jokes-i.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUEQn87fCp7ImA9WxdUE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-6067974183968292128</id><published>2008-07-29T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T13:26:43.104-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-29T13:26:43.104-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bar Jokes" /><title>Gimme A Beer, Baldy</title><content type="html">A bald guy walks into a bar, turns to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;noticeably&lt;/span&gt; short bartender, and says "Hey midget, gimme a beer!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender gives the man a beer, but tells the man not to refer to him as a midget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few drinks later, the guy turns to the bartender and again says, "hey midget... gimme another beer!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender gets upset and warns the man about calling him a midget, but gives him his beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the third time this happens, the bartender says, "Hey! I told you to stop calling me a midget! How would you like it if I called you 'baldy' if our positions were reversed?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy thinks about it and admits that he wouldn't mind. The bartender disagrees, and ultimately they agree to switch positions to let the man see how it feels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender moves to the front of the bar, and the guy moves to the back. The bartender says, "Hey baldy, gimme a beer!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy leans over the bar and says, "Sorry, but we don't serve midgets here."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-6067974183968292128?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/2JBDs7mMDg8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/6067974183968292128?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/6067974183968292128?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/2JBDs7mMDg8/gimme-beer-baldy.html" title="Gimme A Beer, Baldy" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/gimme-beer-baldy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4CRnc5cCp7ImA9WxdUE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-2171359187095112820</id><published>2008-07-29T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T13:22:47.928-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-29T13:22:47.928-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bar Jokes" /><title>Lemon Squeeze</title><content type="html">The local bar was so sure that its bartender was the strongest man around that they offered a standing $1000 bet. The bartender would squeeze a lemon until all the juice ran into a glass, and hand the lemon to a patron. Anyone who could squeeze one more drop of juice out of the squeezed lemon would win the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people had tried over time (weightlifters, longshoremen, etc.), but nobody could do it.&lt;br /&gt;One day this scrawny little man came in, wearing thick glasses and a polyester suit, and said in a tiny, squeaky voice, "I'd like to try the bet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the laughter had died down, the bartender said OK, grabbed a lemon, and squeezed away. Then he handed the wrinkled remains of the rind to the little man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the crowd's laughter turned to total silence as the man clenched his fist around the lemon and several tablespoons worth fell into the glass. As the crowd cheered, the bartender paid the $1000, and asked the little man, "What do you do for a living?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man replied, "I work for the IRS."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-2171359187095112820?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/uyLP_ziQ7Us" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/2171359187095112820?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/2171359187095112820?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/uyLP_ziQ7Us/lemon-squeeze.html" title="Lemon Squeeze" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/lemon-squeeze.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEABQHs6fyp7ImA9WxdUEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-6340047981691059658</id><published>2008-07-28T17:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T17:52:31.517-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-28T17:52:31.517-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Blonde Jokes" /><title>Keep Your Girl Busy</title><content type="html">How do you keep a blonde busy for hours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scroll Down. ---&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;----- Scroll Up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-6340047981691059658?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/ayg6uHu74dY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/6340047981691059658?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/6340047981691059658?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/ayg6uHu74dY/keep-your-girl-busy.html" title="Keep Your Girl Busy" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/keep-your-girl-busy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEFSX49eSp7ImA9WxdUEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-263029887297045015</id><published>2008-07-27T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T14:36:58.061-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-27T14:36:58.061-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Drunk Jokes" /><title>Walk Hard</title><content type="html">A policeman pulls over a driver for swerving in and out of lanes on the highway. He tells the guy to blow a breath into a breathalyzer.&lt;br /&gt;“I can’t do that, officer.”&lt;br /&gt;“Why not?”&lt;br /&gt;“Because I’m an asthmatic. I could get an asthma attack if I blow into that tube.”&lt;br /&gt;“Okay, we’ll just get a urine sample down at the station.”&lt;br /&gt;“Can’t do that either, officer.”&lt;br /&gt;“Why not?”&lt;br /&gt;“Because I’m a diabetic. I could get low blood sugar if I pee in a cup.”&lt;br /&gt;“Alright, we could get a blood sample.”&lt;br /&gt;“Can’t do that either, officer.”&lt;br /&gt;“Why not?”&lt;br /&gt;“Because I’m a hemophiliac. If I give blood I could die.”&lt;br /&gt;“Fine then, just walk this white line.”&lt;br /&gt;“Can’t do that either, officer.”&lt;br /&gt;“Why not?”&lt;br /&gt;“Because I’m drunk.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-263029887297045015?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/Qr5tr5xWMIM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/263029887297045015?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/263029887297045015?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/Qr5tr5xWMIM/walk-hard.html" title="Walk Hard" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/walk-hard.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQAR3o-fSp7ImA9WxdUEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-6100278673089190001</id><published>2008-07-27T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T11:29:06.455-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-27T11:29:06.455-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ButtFlucks" /><title>Bite Me</title><content type="html">An 11-year old boy is in Brazil's media spotlight after sinking his teeth into the neck of a dog that attacked him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Local newspapers reported on Thursday that Gabriel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Almeida&lt;/span&gt; was playing in his uncle's backyard in the city of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Belo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Horizonte&lt;/span&gt; when a pit bull named &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Tita&lt;/span&gt; lunged at him and bit him in the left arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Almeida&lt;/span&gt; grabbed the dog by the neck and bit back — biting so hard that he lost a canine tooth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-6100278673089190001?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/V0YEykMYkMM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/6100278673089190001?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/6100278673089190001?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/V0YEykMYkMM/bite-me.html" title="Bite Me" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/bite-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcGR344fCp7ImA9WxdUEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-1803425119180091263</id><published>2008-07-27T11:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T11:23:46.034-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-27T11:23:46.034-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bar Jokes" /><title>Ladybug</title><content type="html">A customer was sitting in a bar having a few drinks when he noticed a tiny little spot on the wall that seemed to be moving. He called it to the bartender's attention. He glanced at it and said, "It's a ladybug."After a moment of stunned silence the customer said, "Good Lord, what incredible eyesight you have!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-1803425119180091263?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/-3GpZ52gkfs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/1803425119180091263?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/1803425119180091263?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/-3GpZ52gkfs/ladybug.html" title="Ladybug" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/ladybug.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4FRno5eip7ImA9WxdUEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-4046926923538758185</id><published>2008-07-27T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T11:21:57.422-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-27T11:21:57.422-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Drunk Jokes" /><title>Push</title><content type="html">A man is in bed with his wife when there is a rat-a-tat-tat on the door.He rolls over and looks at his clock, and it's half past two in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not getting out of bed at this time," he thinks, and rolls over. Then, a louder knock follows. "Aren't you going to answer that?" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;says his&lt;/span&gt; wife. So he drags himself out of bed, and goes downstairs. He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;opens the&lt;/span&gt; door and there is man standing at the door. It didn't take &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;the homeowner&lt;/span&gt; long to realize the man was drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi there." slurs the stranger, "Can you give me a push?" "No, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;get lost&lt;/span&gt;, it's half past two. I was in bed." says the man and slams &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;the door&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He goes back up to bed and tells his wife what happened and she says "Dave, that wasn't very nice of you. Remember that night we broke &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;down in&lt;/span&gt; the pouring rain on the way to pick the kids up from the baby-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sitter and&lt;/span&gt; you had to knock on that man's house to get us started again? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;What would&lt;/span&gt; have happened if he'd told us to get lost?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But the guy was drunk." says the husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It doesn't matter." says the wife. "He needs our help and it would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;be the&lt;/span&gt; right thing to do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the husband out of bed again, gets dressed, and goes downstairs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;He opens&lt;/span&gt; the door, and not being able to see the stranger anywhere he shouts:"Hey, do you still want a push?" and he hears a voice cry out "Yeah please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, still being unable to see the stranger he shouts: "Where are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the stranger replies: "I'm over here, on your swing."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-4046926923538758185?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/sqAAiXqvWis" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/4046926923538758185?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/4046926923538758185?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/sqAAiXqvWis/push.html" title="Push" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/push.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEARH49cSp7ImA9WxdUEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-831449811974241130</id><published>2008-07-27T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T11:17:25.069-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-27T11:17:25.069-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Drunk Jokes" /><title>Hard To Say When Drunk</title><content type="html">&lt;strong&gt;THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indubitably&lt;br /&gt;Innovative&lt;br /&gt;Preliminary&lt;br /&gt;Proliferation&lt;br /&gt;Cinnamon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Specificity&lt;br /&gt;British Constitution&lt;br /&gt;Passive-aggressive disorder&lt;br /&gt;Loquacious&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Transubstantiate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, but I don't want to have sex&lt;br /&gt;Nope, no more booze for me&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, but you're not really my type&lt;br /&gt;Good evening officer, isn't it lovely out tonight&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-831449811974241130?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/RLdCBYMwQ7c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/831449811974241130?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/831449811974241130?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/RLdCBYMwQ7c/hard-to-say-when-drunk.html" title="Hard To Say When Drunk" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/hard-to-say-when-drunk.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMHQXw5eyp7ImA9WxdUEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-5890449549945756879</id><published>2008-07-27T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T11:13:50.223-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-27T11:13:50.223-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Drunk Jokes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bar Jokes" /><title>Toot</title><content type="html">There was a husband and his wife sitting next to a drunk in a bar. Suddenly the drunk stands up and yells, "ATTENTION ALL" and farts loudly.&lt;br /&gt;The wife is extremely embarrassed, and the husband looks at the drunk and says" Excuse me, you just farted before my wife."&lt;br /&gt;The drunks replies," I'm sorry I didn't know it was her turn."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-5890449549945756879?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/I1CZrgYzSPM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/5890449549945756879?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/5890449549945756879?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/I1CZrgYzSPM/toot.html" title="Toot" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/toot.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUDRnwyfyp7ImA9WxdUEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-3878005184955003465</id><published>2008-07-27T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T11:11:17.297-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-27T11:11:17.297-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Drunk Jokes" /><title>Oops</title><content type="html">A man is in the hospital for a series of tests. The last test has left his system upset.  Upon making several false alarms to the bathroom he decided the latest was another. He completely filled his bed up with human waste and was embarrassed beyond anything he could possibly face. Losing his presence of mind, he jumped up, gathered up the bedsheets, and threw them out the hospital window.  A drunk was walking by the hospital when the sheets landed on him. He started yelling, cussing and swinging his arms which drew the attention of the security guard.&lt;br /&gt; The security guard asks, "What's going on?"&lt;br /&gt;To which the drunk replied, "I just beat the crap out of a ghost."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-3878005184955003465?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/8J2g73uSe-c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/3878005184955003465?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/3878005184955003465?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/8J2g73uSe-c/oops.html" title="Oops" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/oops.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYFRnk_cCp7ImA9WxdUEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-1260015528241273499</id><published>2008-07-27T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T10:01:57.748-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-27T10:01:57.748-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Animal Jokes" /><title>Room For My Dog</title><content type="html">A man wrote a letter to a small hotel in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Midwest&lt;/span&gt; town he planned to visit on his vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wrote, "I would very much like to bring my dog with me. He is well groomed and very well behaved. Would you be willing to permit me to keep him in my room with me at night?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An immediate reply came from the hotel owner, who said, "I've been operating this hotel for many years. In all that time, I've never had a dog steal towels, bedclothes, silverware or pictures off the walls. I've never had to evict a dog in the middle of the night for being drunk and disorderly. and I've never had a dog run out on a hotel bill. Yes, indeed, your dog is welcome at my hotel. And, if your dog will vouch for you, you're welcome to stay here, too."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-1260015528241273499?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/Jg-pUCv4z9k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/1260015528241273499?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/1260015528241273499?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/Jg-pUCv4z9k/room-for-my-dog.html" title="Room For My Dog" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/room-for-my-dog.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQHQHk5fSp7ImA9WxdVGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-4436997765472755443</id><published>2008-07-24T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T19:35:31.725-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-24T19:35:31.725-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ButtFlucks" /><title>Chicken Underwear</title><content type="html">An Australian man's dare went horribly wrong when he tried to play chicken with cars on a freeway wearing only his underwear. The 18 year old was critically injured after being hit by a four-wheel drive on a freeway in the southern city of Melbourne in the early hours of Wednesday, police said in a statement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Police are dismayed at the utter stupidity of a man who decided to play chicken on the Tullamarine Freeway," the statement said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It was lucky nobody was killed as a result and police couldn't believe anybody would be foolish enough to take such grave risks with their personal safety and that of other road users." The driver and passenger in the car were unhurt, though the vehicle was a write-off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-4436997765472755443?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/zayoQKd5I7M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/4436997765472755443?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/4436997765472755443?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/zayoQKd5I7M/chicken-underwear.html" title="Chicken Underwear" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/chicken-underwear.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04EQXg8eip7ImA9WxdVGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-1073808698452691238</id><published>2008-07-24T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T13:05:00.672-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-24T13:05:00.672-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Clean Jokes" /><title>Going To Heaven</title><content type="html">Recently a teacher, a garbage collector, and a lawyer wound up together at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter informed them that in order to get into Heaven, they would each have to answer one question. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter addressed the teacher and asked, “What was the name of the ship that crashed into the iceberg? They just made a movie about it.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher answered quickly, “That would be the Titanic.” St. Peter let him through the gate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter turned to the garbage man and, figuring Heaven didn’t need all the odors that this guy would bring with him, decided to make the question a little harder: “How many people died on the ship?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately for him, the trash man had just seen the movie. “1,228,” he answered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That’s right! You may enter.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter then turned his attention to the lawyer… “Name them.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-1073808698452691238?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/Ph0WSoq36X4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/1073808698452691238?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/1073808698452691238?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/Ph0WSoq36X4/going-to-heaven.html" title="Going To Heaven" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/going-to-heaven.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IHQnY-fip7ImA9WxdVGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-7610424228295832772</id><published>2008-07-24T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T12:58:53.856-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-24T12:58:53.856-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Funny Jokes" /><title>Fast Car</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SIje8aGD_DI/AAAAAAAAAM0/D7uYvGpkU2o/s1600-h/Porsche.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SIje8aGD_DI/AAAAAAAAAM0/D7uYvGpkU2o/s200/Porsche.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226672496941726770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man bought a new Porsche to celebrate his wife leaving him and was out on the interstate for a nice evening drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top was down, the breeze was blowing through what was left of his hair and he decided to open her up. As the needle jumped up to 80 mph, he suddenly saw flashing red and blue lights behind him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's no way they can catch a Porsche," he thought to himself and opened her up further. The needle hit 90, 100.....Then the reality of the situation hit him. "What am I doing?" he thought and pulled over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cop came up to him, took his license without a word and examined it and the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's been a long hard day, this is the end of my shift and it's Friday the 13th. I don't feel like more paperwork, I don't need the frustration or the overtime, so if you can give me a really good excuse for your driving that I haven't heard before, you can go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy thinks about it for a second and says, "Last week my nagging wife ran off with a cop. I was afraid you were trying to give her back!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Have a nice weekend," said the officer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-7610424228295832772?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/JLTSE-Zoask" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/7610424228295832772?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/7610424228295832772?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/JLTSE-Zoask/fast-car.html" title="Fast Car" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SIje8aGD_DI/AAAAAAAAAM0/D7uYvGpkU2o/s72-c/Porsche.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/fast-car.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UFQ3c_fip7ImA9WxdVGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-8024935429019942140</id><published>2008-07-24T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T12:53:32.946-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-24T12:53:32.946-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bar Jokes" /><title>Fifty Bucks</title><content type="html">A man is sitting in a bar when a beautiful woman walks up and whispers in his ear, "I'll do anything you want for 50 bucks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He puts his drink down and starts going through his pockets. He pulls out a ten, two five's, a twenty and ten ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thrusts the wadded up money into the woman's hand and says, "Here...paint my house."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-8024935429019942140?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/Vjfh2gC41js" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/8024935429019942140?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/8024935429019942140?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/Vjfh2gC41js/fifty-bucks.html" title="Fifty Bucks" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/fifty-bucks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4NQXc4cCp7ImA9WxdVGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-3423635577764406963</id><published>2008-07-24T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T10:03:10.938-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-24T10:03:10.938-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bar Jokes" /><title>A Place To Hide</title><content type="html">A balding man storms into a local bar and demands, "Gimme a double of the strongest whiskey you got. I'm so mad, I can't even see straight." The bartender, noticing that the little man is a bit the worse for wear, pours him a double of Jack. The man swills down the drink and says, "Gimme another one." The bartender pours the drink, but says, "Now, before I give you this, why don't you let off a little steam and tell me why you're so upset?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the man begins his tale. "Well, I was sitting in the bar next door, when this gorgeous blonde slinks in and actually sits beside me at the bar. I thought, "Wow, this has never happened before." You know, it was kind of a fantasy come true. Well, a couple of minutes later, the blonde leans over and asks if I'd like to come back to her hotel to have dinner and talk for a while. I couldn't believe this was happening, and I hadn't had a good meal in quite a while. I managed to nod my head yes, so she grabs my hand and starts walking out of the bar. This seemed just too good to be true."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He continued, "She took me down the street here to a nice hotel and up to her room. She said to relax, watch some TV, and that she would be ready to go down to the restaurant in a few minutes. But, as soon as I put my feet up and reclined my chair, I heard some keys jingling and someone starts fumbling with the door."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The blonde says, 'Oh my god, it's my boyfriend. He must have lost his wrestling match tonight, he's gonna be real mad. Quick, hide!'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, I opened the closet, but I figured that was probably the first place he would look, so I didn't hide there. Then I looked under the bed, but no, I figured he's bound to look there, too. By now, I could hear the key in the lock. I noticed the window was open, so I climbed out and was hanging there by my fingers, praying that the guy wouldn't see me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender says "Well I can see how you might be a bit frustrated at this point."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, yeah, but I hear the guy finally get the door open and he yells out, 'Who you been with now, you witch?' The girl says, 'Nobody, honey, now calm down.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the guy starts tearing up the room. I hear him tear the door off the closet and throw it across the room. I'm thinking, 'Boy, I'm glad I didn't hide in there.' Then I hear him lift up the bed and throw it across the room. Good thing I didn't hide under there either. Then I heard him say, 'What's that over there by the window?' I think, 'Oh God, I'm dead meat now.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the blonde by now is trying real hard to distract him and convince him to stop looking. Well, I hear the guy go into the bathroom and I hear water running for a long time; I figure maybe he's gonna take a bath or something, when all of a sudden, the jerk pours a pitcher of scalding hot water out of the window right on top of my head. I mean, look at this, I got second degree burns all over my scalp and shoulders!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender says, "Oh man, that would have gotten me mad for sure." "No, that didn't really bother me. Next, the guy starts slamming the window shut over and over on my hands. I mean, look at my fingers. They're a bloody mess. I can hardly hold onto this glass."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender looks at the guy's hands and says, "Yeah, buddy, I can understand why you are so upset."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, that wasn't what really got me so angry though."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender then asks in exasperation, "Well, then, what did finally make you anger?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I was hanging on the window, and I turned around and looked down--I was only about six inches off the ground."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-3423635577764406963?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/Ld_CjBHxg5Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/3423635577764406963?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/3423635577764406963?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/Ld_CjBHxg5Q/place-to-hide.html" title="A Place To Hide" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/place-to-hide.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkECQ3g5eip7ImA9WxdVGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-457277602084408726</id><published>2008-07-24T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T09:57:42.622-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-24T09:57:42.622-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bar Jokes" /><title>Give Me A Drink</title><content type="html">A man walks into the front door of a bar. He is obviously drunk. he staggers up to the bar, seats himself on a stool, and with a belch, asks the bartender for a drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender politely informs the man that it appears that he has already had plenty to drink--he could not be served additional liquor at this bar but could get a cab called for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drunk is briefly surprised then softly scoffs, grumbles, climbs down off the bar stool, and staggers out the front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later, the same drunk stumbles in the side door of the bar. He wobbles up to the bar and hollers for a drink. The bartender comes over, and still politely--but more firmly refuses service to the man due to his inebriation. Again, the bartender offers to call a cab for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drunk looks at the bartender for a moment angrily, curses, and shows himself out the side door, all the while grumbling and shaking his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later, the same drunk bursts in through the back door of the bar. He plops himself up on a bar stool, gathers his wits, and belligerently orders a drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender comes over and emphatically reminds the man that he is clearly drunk, will be served no drinks, and either a cab or the police will be called immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The surprised drunk looks at the bartender and in hopeless anguish, cries "Man! How many bars do you work at?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-457277602084408726?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/xM4tnZWb65Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/457277602084408726?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/457277602084408726?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/xM4tnZWb65Q/give-me-drink.html" title="Give Me A Drink" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/give-me-drink.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMNQXk4eCp7ImA9WxdVGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-1058247082074429087</id><published>2008-07-24T09:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T09:54:50.730-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-24T09:54:50.730-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bar Jokes" /><title>Just Keeping Her Warm</title><content type="html">A man had been drinking at the bar for hours when he mentioned something about his girlfriend being out in the car. The bartender, concerned because it was so cold, went to check on her. When he looked inside the car, he saw the man's friend, John, and his girlfriend kissing one another. The bartender shook his head and walked back inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told the drunk that he thought it might be a good idea to check on his girlfriend. The fellow staggered outside to the car, saw his buddy and his girlfriend kissing, then walked back into the bar laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's so funny?" the bartender asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That stupid John!" the fellow said, "He's so drunk, he thinks he's me!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-1058247082074429087?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/_PJF3CsktLg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/1058247082074429087?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/1058247082074429087?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/_PJF3CsktLg/just-keeping-her-warm.html" title="Just Keeping Her Warm" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/just-keeping-her-warm.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEERX8zeSp7ImA9WxdVGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-2274058320065063412</id><published>2008-07-23T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T20:03:24.181-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-23T20:03:24.181-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bar Jokes" /><title>The Nun</title><content type="html">A nun, badly needing to use the restroom, walked into a local tavern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place was hopping with music and loud conversation and every once in a while the lights would turn off. Each time the lights would go out, the place would erupt into cheers. However, when the revelers saw the nun, the room went dead silent. She walked up to the bartender, and asked, "May I please use the restroom?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender replied, "OK, but I should warn you that there is a statue of a naked man in there wearing only a leaf."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, in that case, I'll just look the other way," said the nun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the bartender showed the nun to the back of the restaurant. After a few minutes, she came back out, and the whole place stopped just long enough to give the nun a loud round of applause. She went to the bartender and said, "Sir, I don't understand. Why did they applaud for me just because I went to the restroom?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, now they know you're one of us," said the bartender. "Would you like a drink?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But, I still don't understand," said the puzzled nun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You see," laughed the bartender, "every time someone lifts the leaf on the statue, the lights go out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-2274058320065063412?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/xPS-KiB1wZE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/2274058320065063412?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/2274058320065063412?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/xPS-KiB1wZE/nun.html" title="The Nun" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/nun.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYNQnw6eyp7ImA9WxdVGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355577571213395785.post-1782758209483825580</id><published>2008-07-23T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T19:56:33.213-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-23T19:56:33.213-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Blonde Jokes" /><title>Ventriloquist</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SIfvTZlsO3I/AAAAAAAAAMo/9OXNBgjsrqk/s1600-h/bozo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SIfvTZlsO3I/AAAAAAAAAMo/9OXNBgjsrqk/s200/bozo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226409009152277362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young ventriloquist is touring the clubs and one night he's doing a show in a small town in Alabama. With his dummy on his knee, he starts going through his usual dumb blonde jokes when a blonde in the 3rd row stands on her chair and starts shouting: "I've heard enough of your stupid blonde jokes. What makes you think you can stereotype women that way? What does the color of a person's hair have to do with her worth as a human being? It's guys like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in the community and from reaching our full potential as a person. Because you and your kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against not only blondes, but women in general, and all in the name of humor!" The embarrassed ventriloquist begins to apologize, and the blonde yells, "You stay out of this, mister! I'm talking to that little jerk on your knee."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355577571213395785-1782758209483825580?l=buttfluck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Buttfluck/~4/YKei9b9r61w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/1782758209483825580?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355577571213395785/posts/default/1782758209483825580?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Buttfluck/~3/YKei9b9r61w/ventriloquist.html" title="Ventriloquist" /><author><name>BunkmonKee</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SNBqZPV5vQI/AAAAAAAAAyY/aDLFc0YbpOY/S220/bm.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ml0mnY6bsAw/SIfvTZlsO3I/AAAAAAAAAMo/9OXNBgjsrqk/s72-c/bozo.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://buttfluck.blogspot.com/2008/07/ventriloquist.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

