Stupid & Funny from Around the World

Doreen is on her death bed, while her husband stands by her, hands held. The subject comes onto cheating.
Her husband says he's always been faithful.
Doreen takes a deep breath and admits she's cheated three times.
Husband: 3!? When was the first time?
Doreen: Remember when you needed a triple bypass and we couldn't afford it. The next day the doctor said he had a free opening.
Husband: Okay, you did that for me. I forgive that one. When was the second one.
Doreen: Remember when we were about to lose our home because we couldnt pay the mortgage. Remember I went that evening to see the banker.
Husband: Okay, you saved our home. I can forgive that too. When was the third time?
Doreen: Remember when you were running president for your gold club and you needed 72 more votes.
 
The main reason Little Johnny is a defective piece
Little Johnny, just six years old, came home from school looking flustered and red-faced. His mom, curious as ever, greeted him at the door with a smile.
“How was school today, Johnny?” she asked, noticing his expression.
Johnny heaved a dramatic sigh. “It was so embarrassing, Mom!”
Concerned but trying not to laugh, she asked, “Why? What happened?”
“Well,” Johnny began, “we had our first family planning lesson today. And everyone was saying the craziest things!”
“Oh? Like what?”
Johnny rolled his eyes. “Annie from across the street said babies come from storks. Sally next door says you can just go to the orphanage and buy one. And Timmy in my class said you get babies at the hospital.”
His mom chuckled. “Well, those are all interesting ideas. But why would that embarrass you?”
Johnny sighed again, this time with exaggerated exasperation. “Because, Mom, I didn’t have the heart to tell them that you and Dad were so broke, you had to make me yourselves!”
😆
 
A judge was questioning a woman about her pending divorce and asked, **"What are the grounds for your divorce?"**
She cheerfully replied, **"About four acres, with a cozy house right in the middle and a lovely little stream nearby."**
The judge sighed. **"No, I mean, what is the foundation of this case?"**
"Oh!" she said. **"Concrete, brick, and mortar."**
Trying again, he asked, **"What are your relations like?"**
She smiled. **"Well, I have an aunt and uncle in town, and my husband's parents live nearby too."**
The judge rubbed his temples. **"Do you have a real grudge?"**
**"No, sir,"** she answered. **"Just a two-car carport. Never needed a grudge."**
Taking a deep breath, he asked, **"Is there any infidelity in your marriage?"**
**"Oh, yes!"** she nodded. **"Both our son and daughter have stereo systems. We don’t always like their music, but yes, there’s some in fidelity."**
Now exasperated, he asked, **"Ma’am, does your husband ever beat you up?"**
**"Oh sure,"** she said. **"At least twice a week, he gets up earlier than I do."**
Completely frustrated, the judge finally demanded, **"Then why do you want a divorce?"**
**"Me?"** she said, surprised. **"I don’t want a divorce! My husband does. He says he can’t communicate with me."**
 
The Birthday Surprise That Stank
It all started at lunch. A perfectly innocent meal, except for the three plates of beans I devoured—against my better judgment, of course. But they were delicious, and who could resist?
Later that evening, I arrived home to my husband greeting me at the door, grinning from ear to ear.
"Darling, I have a surprise for you tonight!" he announced, his excitement almost contagious.
Intrigued, I played along. He took my hand, blindfolded me, and led me carefully to my chair at the dining table. I was giggling like a kid. This is going to be fun, I thought.
Just as he was about to remove the blindfold, the phone rang.
"Promise me you won’t peek until I get back," he said, hurrying off to answer.
I nodded obediently. But that’s when my troubles began.
Those three plates of beans? Oh, they were working overtime. My stomach felt like a boiling cauldron, and the pressure was rising fast.
I clenched. I held my breath. I prayed.
But physics, my dear friends, does not bargain.
Seizing the moment while my husband was occupied, I shifted to one side and let it rip.
It was loud. Very loud. The kind of loud that would make a foghorn jealous.
And the smell? My God. It was like a fertilizer truck had crashed into a skunk in front of a burning landfill. Horrific didn’t begin to cover it.
Panicked, I grabbed my napkin and fanned the air desperately, as if my life depended on it. Maybe I can dilute it!
Encouraged by the lack of immediate consequences, I shifted to the other leg and fired off another three. Each one worse than the last. I swear, if gas emissions were a weapon, I had just declared war.
For several glorious, stomach-relieving minutes, I let loose. It was euphoric. The sweet release of pressure. The bliss of finally being free.
But all good things must come to an end.
From the other room, I heard the final words of my husband’s phone conversation. My time was up.
In a panic, I flapped my napkin wildly, hoping—praying—that I had at least dispersed the evidence. Then, with a calm and innocent expression, I placed my hands neatly on my lap and awaited my grand reveal.
My husband returned, smiling.
"You didn’t peek, did you?" he asked.
"Of course not!" I replied, oozing with fake sincerity.
Satisfied, he reached for the blindfold.
And then—
Surprise!
The blindfold came off, and in front of me sat twelve dinner guests.
Twelve horrified faces.
Twelve pairs of hands clasped tightly over their noses.
And in perfect unison, they forced out a cheerful—if slightly strangled—"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
🎂

I nearly died. Right there. On the spot.
 
The other night, I was invited out for a girls’ night—just a few drinks, a little gossip, and a promise to my husband: “I’ll be home by midnight, I swear!”
Well, famous last words.
The margaritas were flowing like a fountain of questionable decisions, and before I knew it, 3 a.m. had rudely arrived. I was definitely a little… okay, a lot tipsy. But no worries—I had a plan.
As I tiptoed through the front door, the cuckoo clock in the hallway let out a loud Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!—blaring my lateness like a tattletale.
Panic set in. My husband was a light sleeper, and this was not the time for a marital debate. Thinking quickly, I did the only logical thing: I cuckooed nine more times.
Genius, right? Midnight = 12 cuckoos. Crisis averted. Even in my margarita-fueled state, I had just outsmarted time itself!
The next morning, I casually sipped my coffee, acting like the devoted wife who totally got home at midnight. My husband, reading the paper, glanced up and asked, “What time did you get in last night?”
With the confidence of a world-class poker player, I smiled and said, “Midnight!”
He nodded. No suspicion. No questions. I had pulled it off!
Then, without looking up, he said, “We need a new cuckoo clock.”
My stomach dropped. Oh no.
Trying to sound normal, I asked, “Why?”
He put his coffee down and said, “Well, last night, our cuckoo clock cuckooed three times… then said ‘Oh shit’… cuckooed four more times… cleared its throat… cuckooed another three times… giggled… cuckooed twice more… then tripped over the coffee table and farted.”
Busted."
 
Once upon a time, a little boy lived out in the countryside with his father. Their house didn’t have indoor plumbing, so they had to make do with an old outhouse — which the boy absolutely despised. It was sweltering hot in the summer, freezing cold in the winter, and it always smelled terrible, no matter the season.
The outhouse sat precariously close to a creek, and many times the boy daydreamed about giving it a little nudge into the water. One day, after a heavy spring rain swelled the creek, he decided to act. Grabbing a sturdy stick, he pushed and shoved until — splash! — the outhouse tipped over and floated away down the rushing water.
That evening, after dinner, his father looked at him with a stern face and said,
"Son, after supper, we’re going to the woodshed."
The boy’s heart sank. He knew exactly what a trip to the woodshed meant.
"But why, Dad?" he asked, trying to stay calm.
His father folded his arms and said,
"Because someone pushed the outhouse into the creek today. And I have a hunch that someone was you. Am I right?"
The boy gulped, then nodded.
"Yes, it was me, Dad. But today at school, we learned about George Washington. When he chopped down the cherry tree, he told the truth — and he didn’t get into trouble!"
His father paused, then leaned in with a hard stare and said,
"That’s true, son... but George Washington’s father wasn’t sitting in the cherry tree."
 
Johns tennis elbow was hurting one morning so he decided to go see the doctor.
When he gets to the surgery, he is asked to take a urine test. He complains about it but finally does it anyway.
About 15 minutes later the doctor called him into the examination room.
"Hey John, that tennis elbow hurting?" Doctor asked.
"Oh, the receptionist told you about it"? Asked John.
The doctor says "No, no not at all. I bought a new urinalysis machine and it tells me everything."
"That's bullshit" says John.
The doctor assures him that it's true and tells him to take some meds and come back in two weeks with another urine sample. The receptionist give John a specimen cup before he leaves.
Two weeks later John is getting ready to see the doctor but after telling his family about this bullshit machine they decide to play a joke with the old doctor.
John pisses in the cup and so does his wife and teen age daughter, then he jacks off into it. As he is in the garage he puts a couple drops of oil from his dip stick into the cup and then shakes everything up.
He gets to the doctor's surgery and hands the specimen cup to the receptionist with a big smile on his face.
This time it takes 30 minutes for the doctor to call him and the doctor looks very upset when he calls him.
The second the get into the room the doctor says
" Alright Arsehole, your daughters pregnant, your wife has VD, your cars about to throw a rod and if you don't stop jacking off your tennis elbow is never going to heal"
 
**The $25 Porsche**
A 17-year-old boy pulled into the driveway with a sleek Porsche, and his parents nearly lost their minds.
"Where did you get that car?!" they demanded.
Calmly, the boy replied, "I bought it today."
"With what money?!" his parents shouted. "We know how much a Porsche costs!"
"Well," the boy said, "this one only cost me $25."
His parents were stunned. "Who on earth would sell a Porsche for $25?"
"The lady down the street," he said. "I don’t know her name. She saw me walking home and asked if I wanted to buy a Porsche for $25."
The mother gasped. "Oh my goodness! Who knows what she’ll do next? Mike, go over there and find out what’s going on!"
Without hesitation, the father rushed down the street and found the woman casually trimming her rose bushes. Introducing himself, he got straight to the point.
"Why on earth did you sell a Porsche to my son for $25?"
The woman smiled and said, "Oh, that. Well, this morning, I got a call from my husband. I thought he was away on a business trip, but a friend told me he actually ran off to Italy with his assistant—and he has no plans to come back. Then he called and told me to sell his Porsche and send him the money. So… I did."
 
An Aussie truckie walks into an outback cafe with a full-grown emu behind him.
The waitress asks them for their orders.
The truckie says, 'A hamburger, chips and a coke,' and turns to the emu, 'What's yours?'
'Sounds great, I'll have the same,' says the emu.
A short time later the waitress returns with the order 'That will be $9.40 please,' and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the exact change and pays.
The next day, the man and the emu come again and he says, 'A hamburger, chips and a coke.'
The emu says, ' Sounds great, I'll have the same.'
Again the truckie reaches into his pocket and pays with exact change.
This becomes routine until the two enter again. 'The usual?' asks the waitress.
'No, it's Friday night, so I'll have a steak, baked potato and a salad,' says the man..
' Same for me,' says the emu.
Shortly the waitress brings the order and says, 'That will be $32.62.'
Once again the man pulls the exact change out of his pocket and places it on the table.
The waitress cannot hold back her curiosity any longer. 'Excuse me mate, how do you manage to always pull the exact change from your pocket every time?'
'Well, love' says the truckie, 'a few years ago, I was cleaning out the back shed, and found an old lamp. When I cleaned it, a Genie appeared and offered me two wishes.
My first wish was that if I ever had to pay for anything, I would just put my hand in my pocket and the right amount of money would always be there.'
'That's brilliant!' says the waitress. 'Most people would ask for a million dollars or something, but you'll always be as rich as you want, for as long as you live!'
'That's right. Whether it's a gallon of milk or a Rolls Royce, the exact money is always there.' says the man.
Still curious the waitress asks, 'What's with the bloody emu?'
The truckie pauses, sighs, and answers, 'My second wish was for a tall bird with a big backside and long legs, who agrees with everything I say.




560527261_1390300999764143_4735570775442301859_n.jpg
 
**"High-Octane Hangover"**
Bud and Jim were two drinking buddies who worked as airplane mechanics at the Atlanta airport. One foggy afternoon, the airport was completely shut down, leaving them stuck in the hangar with nothing to do.
Bud let out a long sigh.
**"Man, I wish we had something to drink."**
Jim scratched his head and said,
**"You know, I heard somewhere that you can drink jet fuel and get a pretty good buzz."**
Bud raised an eyebrow.
**"Seriously? Well… we don’t have anything better to do."**
So, they grabbed a couple of glasses, poured themselves some high-octane jet fuel, toasted to boredom, and got completely hammered.
The next morning, Bud woke up feeling shockingly great—no headache, no hangover, not even the usual regrets. Just as he was marveling at this miracle, his phone rang. It was Jim.
**"Hey man, how do you feel?"** Jim asked.
**"I feel fantastic! No hangover, nothing! How about you?"** Bud replied.
**"Same here! That jet fuel is magic. We should do this more often!"**
**"Absolutely,"** Bud agreed. **"It’s like the perfect drink."**
There was a brief pause on the line.
**"Hey Bud,"** Jim said hesitantly, **"just one thing…"**
**"What’s that?"** Bud asked.
**"Have you farted yet?"**
Bud thought for a second.
**"No… why?"**
Jim’s voice dropped to a panic-stricken whisper.
**"DON’T. I’m in PHOENIX!"**
 
One evening a man was at home watching TV and eating peanuts.
He'd toss them in the air, and then catch them in his mouth In the middle of catching one, his wife asked him a question - and as he turned to answer her, a peanut fell in his ear.
He tried and tried to dig it out but succeeded in only pushing it in deeper.
He called his wife for assistance, and after hours of trying they became worried and decided to go to the hospital.
As they were ready to go out the door, their daughter came home with her date. After being informed of the problem, their
daughter's date said he could get the peanut out..
The young man told the father to sit down, then proceeded to shove two fingers up the father's nose and told him to blow hard.
When the father blew, the peanut flew out of his ear. The mother and daughter jumped and yelled for joy. The young man insisted that it was nothing.
Once he was gone, the mother turned to the father and said, 'That's so wonderful! Isn't he smart? What do you think he's going to be when he grows up?'
The father replied, 'From the smell of his fingers, our son-in-law.
 
A man with a completely bald head and only one leg is invited to a Halloween party.
He doesn't know what to wear to hide his head and his wooden leg, so he writes to a high-end costume store to explain his problem.
A few days later he receives a parcel with a note:
Dear Sir,
Enclosed please find a Pirate's outfit. The spotted handkerchief will cover your bald head and with your wooden leg you will look exactly like a Pirate.
The man is offended that the outfit emphasizes his disability, so he writes a letter of complaint.
A week passes and he receives another parcel and note:
Dear Sir,
Sorry about the previous parcel. Enclosed please find a Monk's habit. The long robe will cover your wooden leg and with your bald head you will really look the part.
Now the man is furious, because the company has gone from emphasizing his wooden leg to drawing attention to his bald head. So he writes a really strong letter of complaint.
A few days later he gets a very small parcel from the company with an accompanying letter:
Dear Sir,
Enclosed please find a bottle of excellent grenadine syrup. We suggest you pour the red grenadine syrup over your bald head, let it harden, and then stick your wooden leg up your ass and go as a candy apple.
 
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