Fridee Funee

might have seen this before - a good one anyway......

MEN ARE JUST HAPPIER PEOPLE ??


NICKNAMES

If Laura, Kate and Sarah go out for lunch, they will call each other Laura, Kate and Sarah.
If Mike, Dave and John go out, they will affectionately refer to each other as Fat Boy, Godzilla and Four-eyes.

EATING OUT

When the bill arrives, Mike, Dave and John will each throw in $20, even though it's only for $32.50. None of them will have anything smaller and none will actually admit they want change back.
When the girls get their bill, out come the pocket calculators.

MONEY

A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he needs.
A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't need but it's on sale.

BATHROOMS

A man has six items in his bathroom: toothbrush and toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, a bar of soap, and a towel .
The average number of items in the typical woman's bathroom is 337. A man would not be able to identify more than 20 of these items.

ARGUMENTS

A woman has the last word in any argument.
Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.

FUTURE

A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.
A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.

SUCCESS

A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.
A successful woman is one who can find such a man.

MARRIAGE

A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn't.
A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change, but she does.

DRESSING UP

A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, empty the trash, answer the phone, read a book, and get the mail.
A man will dress up for weddings and funerals.

NATURAL

Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed.
Women somehow deteriorate during the night.

OFFSPRING

Ah, children. A woman knows all about her children. She knows about dentist appointments and romances, best friends, favorite foods, secret fears and hopes and dreams.
A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY
A married man should forget his mistakes. There's no use in two people remembering the same thing!

Gonna watch our wedding video Later on .....Backwards

Coz I love the the end bit where she takes the ring off her finger

Goes back down the Ailse

Jumps in the car and racks off.


It's all good Luv Ya Honey. ;-)

I Love this DOCTOR!!

HEALTH QUESTION & ANSWER SESSION
Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true?
A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it... Don't waste them on exercise . Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.



Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?
A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products



Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?
A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up!



Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?
A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.



Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain...Good!



Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?
A: You're not listening.... Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?



Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?
A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.


Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: Are you crazy? HELLO! Cocoa beans! Another vegetable. It's the best feel-good food around!!



Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.



Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?
A: Hey! 'Round' is a shape!!


Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.

And remember:

'Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming, 'WOO HOO

OLD FELLA LOGIC

An elderly gent was invited to an old friends' home for dinner one evening.

He was impressed by the way his buddy preceded every request to his wife with endearing terms such as: Honey, My Love, Darling, Sweetheart, Pumpkin, etc.

The couple had been married almost 70 years and, clearly, they were still very much in love.

While the wife was in the kitchen, the man leaned over and said to his host, 'I think it's wonderful that, after all these years, you still call your wife those loving pet names.'

The old man hung his head. 'I have to tell you the truth,' he said, 'Her name slipped my mind about 10 years ago and I'm scared to death to ask her what it is!'

If Australian Football Teams Were Women

ADELAIDE CROWS: JULIA ROBERTS:
Big in the 1990s but what has she done lately?

BRISBANE LIONS: SARAH JESSICA PARKER:
Just when you thought you were finally safe....... she's back.

CARLTON BLUES: NAOMI CAMPBELL:
Struts around like a winner but behaves like a loser.

COLLINGWOOD MAGPIES: BELINDA NEAL:
Arrogant bitch who thinks the world revolves around her.

ESSENDON BOMBERS: SHARON STONE:
Once the hottest name in the 'biz, now just a fading force.

FREMANTLE DOCKERS: CASEY DONOVAN:
Seemed like a good idea at the time, now no-one is buying her bleep .

HAWTHORN HAWKS: SCARLETT JOHANNSON:
Only recently has everyone realized how hot she really is.

MELBOURNE DEMONS: LINDSAY LOHAN
A miracle she is still alive.

PORT ADELAIDE POWER: BRITNEY SPEARS:
Once had the world at her fingertips. Now can't even remember to wear her underwear in public.

RICHMOND TIGERS: JANE FONDA:
A legend in the 60s/70s but you wouldn't touch her in 2008.

ST. KILDA SAINTS: RICKI LEE COULTER:
Promises a lot but never delivers.

SYDNEY SWANS: CATE BLANCHETT:
Used to be boring but has become interesting again.

WEST COAST EAGLES: AMY WINEHOUSE:
Obvious isnt it??

WESTERN BULLDOGS: LINDSAY DAVENPORT:
Unflashy, no nonsense gritty competitor.

On Your Next Plane Trip

The next time you find yourself on a plane, sitting next to someone who cannot resist chattering to you endlessly, I urge you to quietly pull your laptop out of your bag, carefully open the screen (ensuring the irritating person next to you can see it), and hit this link:

.

Link missing above is

http://www.thecleverest.com/countdown.swf

Link missing above is

http://www.thecleverest.com/countdown.swf

Image Could Not Be Found> > I've got 2 mobile phones that I want to sell, if anyone is interested.
> >
> > 1) Almost brand new Nokia with Camera (4.1 mega pixels) - $100.00
> > 2) Older model Nokia with camera and vibrating alert - $50.00
> >
> > Have a look at the pictures and let me know. Send to your friends too if
> > you think they will be interested.
> >

In my next life I want to live my life backwards. You start out dead and get that out of the way. Then you wake up in an old people's home feeling better every day. You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension, and then when you start work, you get a goldwatch and a party on your first day. You work for 40 years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You party, drink alcohol, and are generally promiscuous, then you are ready for high school. You then go to primary school, you become a kid, you play. You have no re responsibilities, you become a baby until you are born. And then you spend your last 9months floating in luxurious spa-like conditions with central heating and room service on tap, larger quarters every day and then, Voila! You finish off as an orgasm!

I rest my case.

While on his morning walk, Prime Minister Kevin Rudd falls over, has a heart attack and dies because the accident and emergency dept at his nearest hospital is too understaffed to treat him in time.

So his soul arrives in Heaven and he is met by Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates. 'Welcome to Heaven,' says Saint Peter, 'Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a Socialist around these parts, so we're not sure what to do with you.'

'No problem, just let me in; I'm a good Christian; I'm a believer,' says the PM.

'I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from God. He says that since the implementation of his new HEAVEN CHOICES policy, you have to spend one day in Hell and one day in Heaven. Then you must choose where you'll live for eternity.'

'But I've already made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven,' replies Rudd

'I'm sorry .. But we have our rules,' Peter interjects. And, with that, St. Peter escorts him to a lift and he goes down, down, down ...all the way to Hell.

The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush golf course.

The sun is shining in a cloudless sky. The temperature is a perfect 22C degrees. In the distance is a beautiful club-house. Standing in front of it is Gough Whitlam and thousands of other Socialist luminaries who had helped him out over the years --- Bob Hawke, Paul Keating, etc. The whole of the Labour Party leaders were there ..
Everyone laughing, happy, and casually but expensively dressed.

They run to greet him, to hug him and to reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at the expense of 'suckers and peasants.'

They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar. The Devil himself comes up to Rudd with a frosty drink, 'Have a tequila and relax, Kev!'

'Uh, I can't drink anymore; I took a pledge,' says Rudd, dejectedly.

'This is Hell, son. You can drink and eat all you want and not worry and it just gets better from there!'

Rudd takes the drink and finds himself liking the Devil, who he thinks is a really very friendly bloke who tells funny jokes like himself and pulls hilarious nasty pranks, kind of like the ones the Labour Party pulled with their master strokes on Education, Immigration, Petrol prices, Tough on Crime promises.

They are having such a great time that, before he realises it, it's time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves as Rudd steps on the lift and heads upward.

When the lift door reopens, he is in Heaven again and Saint Peter is waiting for him. 'Now it's time to visit Heaven,' the old man says, opening the gate.

So for 24 hours Rudd is made to hang out with a bunch of honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's company, talk about things other than money and treat each other decently. Not a nasty prank or short-arse joke among them. No fancy country clubs here and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or lobster. And these people are all poor. He doesn't see anybody he knows and he isn't even treated like someone special!

'Whoa,' he says uncomfortably to himself. 'Gough Whitlam never prepared me for this!'

The day done, Saint Peter returns and says, 'Well, you've spent a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now choose where you want to live for Eternity.'

With the 'Deal or No Deal' theme playing softly in the background, Rudd reflects for a minute ... Then answers: 'Well, I would never have thought I'd say this -- I mean, Heaven has been delightful and all -- but I really think I belong in Hell with my friends.'

So Saint Peter escorts him to the lift and he goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell.

The doors of the lift open and he is in the middle of a barren scorched earth covered with garbage and toxic industrial wasteland, looking a bit like the eroded, rabbit and fox affected Australian outback, but worse and more desolate.

He is horrified to see all of his friends, dressed in rags and chained together, picking up the roadside rubbish and putting it into black plastic bags. They are groaning and moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime.

The Devil comes over to Rudd and puts an arm around his shoulder.' I don't understand,' stammers a shocked Rudd, 'Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a club-house and we ate lobster and caviar and drank tequila. We lazed around and had a great time.. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks miserable!'

The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly and purrs, 'Yesterday we were campaigning; today you voted for us!

Heres my funny.....I forgot it was friday.... again....happens every week!
Been getting funny emails all week saying that Ill use them on friday - only to forget which day is friday! (must be the prega's brain!!LOL!!)

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Dog For Sale
* Free to good home.
* Excellent guard dog.
* Owner cannot afford to feed him anymore, as there are no more thieves, murderers, or molesters left in the neighborhood for him to eat.
* Most of them knew him as 'Holy bleep .'

Guy's,
I've never written asking for your help before,but I really need your advice.
I have suspected for some time now that my wife has been cheating on me.

The usual signs; phone rings but if I answer, the caller hangs up.
My wife has been going out with "the girls" a lot recently although when I ask their names she always says, just some friends from work, you don't know them.

I try to stay awake and look out for her when she comes home, but usually I fall asleep.
Anyway, I have never broached the subject with my wife.
I think deep down I just did not want to know the truth, but last night she went out again and decided finally to check on her.

Around midnight, I hid in the garage behind my Patrol so I could get a good view of the whole street when she arrived home after a night out with "the girls."

When she got out of ther car she was buttoning up her blouse, which was open, and she took her panties out of her purse and put them on.
It was at that moment, crouching behind my Patrol when I noticed a hairline crack through the onside headlight lens.

Is this something I can fix myself or should I take it back to the dealer?

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SWMBO sent me this........(obviously!)

1. WHY DO MEN BECOME SMARTER DURING SEX?

(because they are plugged into a genius)

2. WHY DON'T WOMEN BLINK DURING SEX?

(they don't have enough time)

3. WHY DOES IT TAKE 1 MILLION SPERM TO FERTILIZE ONE EGG?

(they don't stop to ask directions)

4. WHY DO MEN SNORE WHEN THEY LIE ON THEIR BACKS?

(because their balls fall over their butt-hole and they vapor lock)

5. WHY WERE MEN GIVEN LARGER BRAINS THAN DOGS?

(so they won't hump women's legs at cocktails parties)

6. WHY DID GOD MAKE MEN BEFORE WOMEN?

(you need a rough draft before you make a final copy)

7. HOW MANY MEN DOES IT TAKE TO PUT A TOILET SEAT DOWN?

(don't know.....it never happened)

8. WHY DID GOD PUT MEN ON EARTH?

(because a vibrator can't mow the lawn)

One for the ladies
One day my housework-challenged husband decided to wash his Sweat-shirt Seconds after he stepped into the laundry room, he shouted to me, "What setting do I use on the washing machine?"
"It depends," I replied. "What does it say on your shirt?"
He yelled back, "University of Oklahoma."

And they say blondes are dumb...
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A couple is lying in bed. The man says,
"I am going to make you the happiest woman in the world."
The woman replies, "I'll miss you..."
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"It's just too hot to wear clothes today," Jack says as he stepped out of the shower, "honey, what do you think the neighbors would think if I mowed the lawn like this?"
"Probably that I married you for your money," she replied.
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Q: What do you call an intelligent, good looking, sensitive man?
A: A rumor
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Dear Lord,
I pray for Wisdom to understand my man; Love to forgive him; And Patience for his moods. Because, Lord, if I pray for Strength, I'll beat him to death.
AMEN
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Q: What does it mean when a man is in your bed gasping for breath and calling your name?
A: You did not hold the pillow down long enough.

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Q: How do you keep your husband from reading your e-mail?
A: Rename the mail folder "Instruction Manual."
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THIS IS JUST SOOOOO DAM FUNNY



I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighbourhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect ... I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighbourhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it - it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.

Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves! Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of spectacular ... as he shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern.

This furry little tornado was doing some damage! Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing... I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.

But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary bleep -off squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH! Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.

I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in ... well ... I just plain screamed. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn-t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle ... my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser. About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however. The RPMs on The Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment) so her front end started to drop. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse. Finally I got the upper hand ... I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked ... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of ... so to speak.

Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly, a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car. I heard screams. They weren't mine...

I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. Except for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street and was aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car. So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway.

That was one thing. The other? Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me, shooting me the finger ... That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car ... but it was all his.

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighbourhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And some band-aids.

Yee hah its POETS day again

A woman visited her plastic surgeon who told her about a new procedure called 'The Knob,' where a small knob is placed at the top of the woman's head and could be turned to tighten up her skin and produce the effect of a brand new face-lift.

Of course, the woman wanted 'The Knob.'


Over the course of the years, the woman tightened the knob, and the effects were wonderful, the woman remained young looking and vibrant.

After fifteen years, the woman returned to the surgeon with two problems. 'All these years, everything has been working just fine. I've had to turn the knob many times and I've always loved the results. But now I've developed two annoying problems: First, I have these terrible bags under my eyes and the knob won't get rid of them.'

The doctor looked at her closely and said, 'Those aren't bags, those are your breasts.'

She said, 'Well, I guess there's no point in asking about the goatee.'


Rgds

If you're offended by religious jokes don't read this.
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Q. You know why the Catholic Church chose Randwick for the big blessing?

A. Its the only place they could get where you can legally ride a 4 year old.

Sorry, couldn't resist that one.

Not a funny but interesting ....

Freeze The Balls Off a Brass Monkey
It was necessary to keep a good supply of cannon balls near the cannon on old war ships. But how to prevent them from rolling about the deck was the problem. The best storage method devised was to stack them as a square based pyramid, with one ball on top, resting on four, resting on nine, which rested on sixteen.

Thus, a supply of 30 cannon balls could be stacked in a small area right next to the cannon. There was only one problem -- how to prevent the bottom layer from sliding/rolling from under the others.

The solution was a metal plate with 16 round indentations, called, for reasons unknown, a Monkey.. But if this plate were made of iron, the iron balls would quickly rust to it. The solution to the rusting problem was to make them of brass - hence, Brass Monkeys.

Few landlubbers realize that brass contracts much more and much faster than iron when chilled. Consequently, when the temperature dropped too far, the brass indentations would shrink so much that the iron cannon balls would come right off the monkey.


Thus, it was quite literally, cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey. And all this time, you
thought that was just a vulgar expression, didn't you? You must send this fabulous bit of historical knowledge to at least a few uneducated friends.

When I got home last night, my wife demanded that I
take her someplace expensive....
so, I took her to a gas station.....
and then the fight started....

*****************************************************************************



After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply for Social
Security. The woman behind the counter asked me for
my driver's license to verify my age. I looked in my pockets and
realized I had left my wallet at home.

I told the woman that I was very sorry, but I would have to go home and
come back later.

The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt'.

So I opened my shirt revealing my curly silver hair. She said, 'That
silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me'
and she processed my Social Security application.

When I got home, I excitedly told my wife about my experience at the
Social Security office.

She said, 'You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten
disability, too'
And then the fight started.....


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My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I
kept staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.

My wife asked, 'Do you know her?' 'Yes,' I sighed,
'She's my old girlfriend.

I understand she took to drinking right after we split up those many years
ago, and I hear she hasn't been sober since.'

'My God!' says my wife, 'Who would think a person could go on
celebrating that long?'
And then the fight started.....


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I rear-ended a car this morning.
So, there we were alongside the road and slowly the other driver got out
of his car.

You know how sometimes you just get soooo stressed and little things just
seem funny?

Yeah, well I couldn't believe it.... he was a DWARF!!!

He stormed over to my car, looked up at me, and shouted, 'I AM NOT
HAPPY!!!'

So, I looked down at him and said, 'Well, then which one are you?'
And then the fight started... ..

............................................................................

A woman is standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror. She is not happy

with what she sees and says to her husband, 'I feel horrible; I look old,

fat and ugly. I really need you to pay me a compliment.'

The husband replies, 'Your eyesight's damn near perfect.'
And then the fight started...