Gross jokes

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you might be a redneck... toilet
 
 
Y'might be a redneck, if you clean your toilet by peein' on the stains!
night of the living dead
 
 
An elderly couple are watching the 700 Club. The evangelist is getting really worked up, and it's soon time for the healing portion of the show.

"If you believe in the healing power of the Lord, place on hand on the television, and one hand on the part of your body that ails you!" The old man places one hand on the television and one hand on his groin.

"Oh, don't be stupid!" says the old woman. "He said heal, not raise the dead!"

the businessman's medical problem
 
 
A businessman returns from the far east. After a few days he notices stange growth on his penis. He sees several doctors. They all say: “You've been screwing around in the Far East, very common there, no cure. We'll have to cut it off.” The man panics, but figures if it is common in the East they must know how to cure it. So he goes back and sees a doctor in Pakistan.

The doctor examines him and says, "You've been fooling around in my country. This is a very common problem here. Did you see any other doctors?”

The man replies, “Yes a few in the USA.”

The doctor says, "I bet they told you it had to be cut off."

The man answers, "Yes!"

The doctor smiles, nods, "That is not correct. It will fall off by itself."

mustard -- a tragic story
 
 
As ham sandwiches go, it was perfection. A thick slab of ham, a fresh bun, crisp lettuce, and plenty of expensive, light brown, gourmet mustard. The corners of my jaw aching in anticipation, I carried it to the picnic table in our backyard, picked it up with both hands but was stopped by my wife suddenly at my side.

'Hold Johnny (our six-week-old son) while I get my sandwich,' she said.

I had him balanced between my left elbow and shoulder and was reaching again for the ham sandwich when I noticed a streak of mustard on my fingers. I love mustard. I had no napkin. I licked it off. It was not mustard. No man ever put a baby down faster. It was the first and only time I have sprinted with my tongue protruding. With a washcloth in each hand I did the sort of routine shoeshine boys do, only I did it on my tongue. Later (after she stopped crying from laughing so hard) my wife said, 'Now you know why they call that mustard 'Poupon.'


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