BeerBorg

FIT, is that the truck that you bought 6 years ago? Must be, based on how that radio works...

LOL, u got it!

My girlfriend left a note on the fridge, "It's not working. I can't take it anymore. I'm going to my Mom's place."

I opened the fridge. The light came on. The beer was cold.... What the hell is she talking about?

Cliff and Dorothy came to church last week. Cliff with his walker and Dorothy a hearing aid. After finally getting settled into a pew, Dorothy wrote a little note on the back of the church bulletin and handed it to Cliff. The note said," I just left a silent fart Cliff, what should I do ? Cliff wrote a quick note back that said "get a new battery for your hearing aid.......

Why do we want to understand women? Women understand women and they hate each other!!!

FrozenInTime wrote:LOL, u got it!

Keep in mind that 6 years ago we had a different president.

RickBeer wrote:

FrozenInTime wrote:LOL, u got it!

Keep in mind that 6 years ago we had a different president.

Zing!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Actually bought this F-250 3.5 yrs back... LOL Ya got me!

Only a person in Wisconsin could think of this

From the state where drunk driving is considered a sport BECAUSE
THERE is a bar on every corner, comes this true story.

Recently a routine police patrol parked outside a bar in Poynette,WI.
After last call, the officer noticed a man leaving the bar
apparently so intoxicated that he could barely walk.

The man stumbled around the parking lot for a few minutes, with the
officer quietly observing.

After what seemed an eternity in which he tried his keys on five
different vehicles, the man managed to find his car and fall into it.

He sat there for a few minutes as a number of other patrons left the
bar and drove off.

Finally he started the car, switched the wipers on and off--it was a
fine, dry summer night--, flicked the blinkers on and off a couple of
times, honked the horn and then switched on the lights.

He moved the vehicle forward a few inches, reversed a little and then
remained still for a few more minutes as some more of the other
patrons' vehicles left.

At last, when his was the only car left in the parking lot, he pulled
out and drove slowly down the road.
The police officer, having waited patiently all this time, now started
up his patrol car, put on the flashing lights, promptly pulled the man
over and administered a breathalyzer test.

To his amazement, the breathalyzer indicated no evidence that the man
had consumed any alcohol at all!

Dumbfounded, the officer said,"I'll have to ask you to accompany me to
the police station. This breathalyzer equipment must be broken."


'I doubt it,' said the truly proud Wisconsinite Barfly. 'Tonight I'm
the designated decoy.

.

THE OUTHOUSE

The service station trade was slow
The owner sat around,
With sharpened knife and cedar stick
Piled shavings on the ground.

No modern facilities had they,
The log across the rill
Led to a shack, marked His and Hers
That sat against the hill.

"Where is the ladies restroom, sir?"
The owner leaning back,
Said not a word but whittled on,
And nodded toward the shack.

With quickened step she entered there
But only stayed a minute,
Until she screamed, just like a snake
Or spider might be in it.

With startled look and beet-red face
She bounded through the door,
And headed quickly for the car
Just like three gals before.

She missed the foot log - jumped the stream
The owner gave a shout,
As her silk stockings, down at her knees
Caught on a sassafras sprout.

She tripped and fell - got up, and then
In obvious disgust,
Ran to the car, stepped on the gas,
And faded in the dust.

Of course we all desired to know
What made the gals all do
The things they did, and then we found
The whittling owner knew.

A speaking system he'd devised,
To make the thing complete,
He tied a speaker on the wall
Beneath the toilet seat.

He'd wait until the gals got set
And then the devilish tyke
Would stop his whittling long enough,
To speak into the mike.

And as she sat, a voice below
Struck terror, fright and fear,
"Will you please use the other hole,
We're painting under here!"

Seen this before but enjoyed reading it again. Since it's deer season, enjoy!

Why we shoot deer in the wild: (A letter from someone who wants to remain anonymous, who farms, writes well and actually tried this) I had this idea that I could rope a deer, put it in a stall, feed it up on corn for a couple of weeks, then kill it and eat it. The first step in this adventure was getting a deer. I figured that, since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not seem to have much fear of me when we are there (a bold one will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while I am in the back of the truck not 4 feet away), it should not be difficult to rope one, get up to it and toss a bag over its head (to calm it down) then hog tie it and transport it home. I filled the cattle feeder then hid down at the end with my rope. The cattle, having seen the roping thing before, stayed well back. They were not having any of it. After about 20 minutes, my deer showed up-- 3 of them. I picked out a likely looking one, stepped out from the end of the feeder, and threw my rope. The deer just stood there and stared at me. I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold. The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell it was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation. I took a step towards it, it took a step away. I put a little tension on the rope, and then received an education. The first thing that I learned is that, while a deer may just stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, they are spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope. That deer EXPLODED. The second thing I learned is that pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt. A cow or a colt in that weight range I could fight down with a rope and with some dignity. A deer-- no Chance. That thing ran and bucked and twisted and pulled. There was no controlling it and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the ground, it occurred to me that having a deer on a rope was not nearly as good an idea as I had originally imagined. The only upside is that they do not have as much stamina as many other animals. A brief 10 minutes later, it was tired and not nearly as quick to jerk me off my feet and drag me when I managed to get up. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head. At that point, I had lost my taste for corn-fed venison. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the end of that rope. I figured if I just let it go with the rope hanging around its neck, it would likely die slow and painfully somewhere. At the time, there was no love at all between me and that deer. At that moment, I hated the thing, and I would venture a guess that the feeling was mutual. Despite the gash in my head and the several large knots where I had cleverly arrested the deer's momentum by bracing my head against various large rocks as it dragged me across the ground, I could still think clearly enough to recognize that there was a small chance that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility for the situation we were in. I didn't want the deer to have to suffer a slow death, so I managed to get it lined back up in between my truck and the feeder - a little trap I had set before hand...kind of like a squeeze chute. I got it to back in there and I started moving up so I could get my rope back. Did you know that deer bite? They do! I never in a million years would have thought that a deer would bite somebody, so I was very surprised when ..... I reached up there to grab that rope and the deer grabbed hold of my wrist. Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like being bit by a horse where they just bite you and slide off to then let go. A deer bites you and shakes its head--almost like a pit bull. They bite HARD and it hurts. The proper thing to do when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried screaming and shaking instead. My method was ineffective. It seems like the deer was biting and shaking for several minutes, but it was likely only several seconds. I, being smarter than a deer (though you may be questioning that claim by now), tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing the tendons out of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that rope loose. That was when I got my final lesson in deer behavior for the day. Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up on their back feet and strike right about head and shoulder level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp... I learned a long time ago that, when an animal -like a horse --strikes at you with their hooves and you can't get away easily, the best thing to do is try to make a loud noise and make an aggressive move towards the animal. This will usually cause them to back down a bit so you can escape. This was not a horse. This was a deer, so obviously, such trickery would not work. In the course of a millisecond, I devised a different strategy. I screamed like a woman and tried to turn and run. The reason I had always been told NOT to try to turn and run from a horse that paws at you is that there is a good chance that it will hit you in the back of the head. Deer may not be so different from horses after all, besides being twice as strong and 3 times as evil, because the second I turned to run, it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down. Now, when a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not immediately leave. I suspect it does not recognize that the danger has passed. What they do instead is paw your back and jump up and down on you while you are laying there crying like a little girl and covering your head. I finally managed to crawl under the truck and the deer went away. So now I know why when people go deer hunting they bring a rifle with a scope......to sort of even the odds!! All these events are true so help me God...An Educated Farmer

What a trick, this guys good.

A police officer in a small North Dakota town clocked a car coming through at fifty-five in a fifty MPH zone. He pulled him over.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" asked the cop to the motorist.

"No, Officer. I don't". said the motorist.

"I clocked you at fifty-five MPH. This is a fifty MPH zone. I'm going to have to give you a ticket." the cop informed him.

"You're going to give me a ticket for five MPH over the speed limit?" the motorist said. "Well, I guess it's true what they say about small town cops. But make it fast. I'm on my way to Fargo to perform an emergency surgery."

"Oh." said the cop, unimpressed. "So you're trying to tell me you're a doctor."

"Yes." was the reply.

"And what kind of doctor would you be?"

"I'm a Specialist". the motorist told him. I'm called a Rectum Stretcher."

"A Rectum Stretcher?" the cop scratched his head. "Never heard of them. What is it you do?"

"Well," the motorist started. "When a doctor has to do some surgery inside the rectum they call me in to stretch open the rectum so he can get in there to do the work."

"And just how do you do this "rectum stretching?" the cop asked still unimpressed.

"Well, first I get the patient in the proper position. Then I work a couple fingers into the rectum and start to stretch it out enough for me to get some more fingers in. Then I very slowly - we don't want to tear anything - stretch the rectum out far enough for the surgeon to do his work. In all modesty I can say that I have been able to stretch a rectum all the way out to five and a half feet."

"FIVE AND A HALF FEET!" Exclaimed the cop. What in the hell do you do with a five and a half foot rectum?"

The motorist smiled slyly and said, "Well. Around here they apparently put it in a uniform, give it a badge and a radar gun and call it a police officer."