Q: Why did the chicken cross the road?
A: Glenn Reynolds paid it $20 to watch it “shake that sweet little chicken ass for me, you nasty fowl bitch.”
Q: Why did the chicken cross the road?
A: Glenn Reynolds paid it $20 to watch it “shake that sweet little chicken ass for me, you nasty fowl bitch.”
Mmmm. Chicken.
I’m sorry, what were you saying?
”Chickens? YUK!”
Well, I just assumed…y’know, Tennessee, libertarian…
Nevermind.
variation on the old joke:
“No officer, I was just helping that chicken over the fence.”
TW – “called”, as in “Hey Reynolds, you’ve just been CALLED a “chicken lover”. What are you gonna do about it, Instaboy?”
I dunno. Maybe if it was some sort of nanotech chicken…
Making me a Nanotech Chicken Lover?
Heh. Indeed.
This isn’t a tasteless dick joke, it’s a tasteless cock joke.
A: Glenn Reynolds paid it $20 to watch it “shake that sweet little chicken ass for me, baby…â€Â
What? Ann Althouse wouldn’t do it? Heh.
In the spirit of Dick Durbin’s tearful apologies yesterday, I’d like to apologize to Ann, Glenn and Jeff for that last crass remark.
Will the wounds ever heal?
<sniff>
Maybe you could photoblog your next tasteless joke, Jeff. That’ll keep those instalinks a-comin’, I’ll betcha.
Oh, and throw in some digital camera specs. Works every time.
No, Scott P, you’re doing it wrong. You don’t apologize because your joke was tasteless. You assert that “some may believe” you’re joke really sucked, and offer your heartfelt apology for their feelings.
My wife pulls the same shit as Durbin all the time. “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way . . .”
*What? Ann Althouse wouldn’t do it? Heh.*
You’d be surprised at the sheer ecstasy in witnessing the lovely Ms. Althouse covort around the Instahouse (when the Instafam is off doing whatever it is they do while I blog), in a lacey thong and stocking set, made up of billions of tiny nanomachines, constantly readjusting and conforming to each and every one of Ann’s luxurious curves…
Indeed !
Q: Why did the pervert cross the road?
So this old guy is sitting on a park bench staring at this punker who’s got bright red hair, golden noserings, and is wearing an electric blue t-shirt.
“What’s a matter, old man, weren’t you ever cool?”
“Sorry, junior, it’s just that I once fucked a parrot and I thought you might be my son.”
A one, and a two, and a make it a third day in a row?
Spam buster: Effort – might take some …
Salt Lick, I used that joke on a freak the other day.
He didn’t get it.
Robin—Maybe you scared him. “Like, wow, now that he mentions it, I do eat a lot of sunflower seeds. Shit.”