It's the holiday season, and mirth abounds. There's lots of threads here with jokes, sorry to start another one, but what the heck. Don't shoot me. After all, it's the holidays.
Everybody has their own sense of humor, and I'll pull my pants down and say, this one does it for me. For some reason, I can't get away from this one. This is perhaps the ... well, it does it for me:
The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment: Get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it.
The next day, the kids came back and, one by one, began to tell their stories. There were all the regular types of stuff: spilled milk and pennies saved. But then the teacher realized, much to her dismay, that only Ernie was left. 'Ernie, do you have a story to share?'
'Yes ma'am. My daddy told a story about my Aunt Karen.
She was a pilot in Desert Storm, and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory, and all she had was a bottle of whiskey, a pistol, and a survival knife.
She drank the whiskey on the way down so the bottle wouldn't break and hurt her when she landed.
And then her parachute landed her right in the middle of 20 enemy troops.
She shot 15 of them with the pistol, until she ran out of bullets, and then she killed four more with the knife, till the blade broke, and then she beat the last one to death with the empty whisky bottle.'
'Good Heavens,' said the horrified teacher. 'What kind of moral did your daddy tell you from this horrible story?'
'Stay the hell away from Aunt Karen when she's been drinking.'
Everybody has their own sense of humor, and I'll pull my pants down and say, this one does it for me. For some reason, I can't get away from this one. This is perhaps the ... well, it does it for me:
The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment: Get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it.
The next day, the kids came back and, one by one, began to tell their stories. There were all the regular types of stuff: spilled milk and pennies saved. But then the teacher realized, much to her dismay, that only Ernie was left. 'Ernie, do you have a story to share?'
'Yes ma'am. My daddy told a story about my Aunt Karen.
She was a pilot in Desert Storm, and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory, and all she had was a bottle of whiskey, a pistol, and a survival knife.
She drank the whiskey on the way down so the bottle wouldn't break and hurt her when she landed.
And then her parachute landed her right in the middle of 20 enemy troops.
She shot 15 of them with the pistol, until she ran out of bullets, and then she killed four more with the knife, till the blade broke, and then she beat the last one to death with the empty whisky bottle.'
'Good Heavens,' said the horrified teacher. 'What kind of moral did your daddy tell you from this horrible story?'
'Stay the hell away from Aunt Karen when she's been drinking.'
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