Spin the Damn Cage!

[DLinn]

A preacher's wife was walking by a pet store on her way home to cook a meal for the church's deacons and wives. The sign in the window of the store said, "Talking parrot, half price!". Having always wanted a parrot, the wife went in and excitedly bought the bird.

Arriving home she happily hung the bird in the corner of the dining room, returned to the kitchen to finish supper. While she was cooking and setting the table the bird was sweetly chirping and cooing...then suddenly he burst out..."Spin the damn cage!". She stopped dead in her tracks, "Spin the damn cage!" he yelled!

She grabbed the cage from the ceiling and practically sprinted back to the pet store. "I can't have a bird that SWEARS!, he said "Spin the XXXX cage!" she exclaimed.

The shopkeep, not wanting the stupid bird back in his store, quickly replied that he would cut the price by another 25%, give the woman a big nice cage to put the bird in and free food if she would just keep the bird. Then he said, "I can tell you what to do to stop him from swearing..." he whispered in her ear, "whisper, whisper, whisper, blah, blah, blah". "Ah", she said smiling, "Sounds like that will fix the problem!" She grabbed her bird in his new bigger cage, the food and raced back to the house to finish supper.

After hanging the parrot back in the dining room, she finished supper. The guests arrived and were having a delightful dinner when all of a sudden he started again, "Spin the damn cage!", "Spin the damn cage!" even louder.

Totally embarrassed, she leaped from her chair and while moving toward the bird explained that the bird did utter a "bad word" but that the shopkeeper had explained the remedy to her.

Frantically grasping the cage with both hands the wife briskly spun the cage. As it was whirring around, a deeply satisfied "Ahhh, feel that fu__ing breeze!" wafted from the cage.

[This message has been edited by DLinn (edited 01-12-2005).]

[DLinn]

HOPEFULLY NOT TOO MUCH FOR THE FORMAT

IF OFFENDED, I'M SORRY IN ADVANCE

Baba Wawa in the Jungle

Baba Wawa, famous journalist, was in South America seeking to find a recently discovered tribe of people in the jungle. Having found a guide and ridden up a large mosquito infested river, she began tredging through the jungle in the general direction of the encampment.

After walking for a while, they came upon a man in native costume and engaged him in conversation...During the questioning she noticed that he had an ornamental headpiece and asked if there was any signifigance to the feather arching from the headband. With his arms crossed on his chest he made his response, "Me fu_ka one woman". "Oh, my!" Baba responded shocked. He said, "Must see Chief, he have many feathers". He was motioning, with his hand, from the top of his head to his feet with a grand flair. Shocked again she said, "Which way is camp.." Pointing due North, he said, "Camp thataway".

She and her guide started moving in that direction and after another hour or two ran across a man dressed in native costume with two feathers in his headdress. After brief conversation with him, again the question arose regarding the meaning of the headdress. "Me fu_ka two women", was the terse reply. "Must see Chief, he have many feathers." Again the theatrical display with the hands. "Which way is camp!" Baba exclaimed. This was an amazing discovery so far and she couldn't wait to complete her journey...and meet the chief!

After an hour or so they finally reached the encampment and were immediately escorted to the presence of the Chief and were astonished to see that he had hundreds of feathers of all colors hanging on ribbons, trailing the ground as he walked.

Baba was practically speechless, but managed to squeak out, "Does each of those feathers represent a woman that you have been with?!" "Yes!" said the Chief, "Me fu_ka many woman!"

"Well, with all those women, don't they get...hostile?" she asked.

"Hog style, horse style, free-style, any style" replied the Chief.

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed.

"No, not deer, pussy too high, run too fast!"

"Ahhh, you should be hung!" she said revolted.

"Am hung, like buffalo." said Chief.

[This message has been edited by DLinn (edited 01-12-2005).]

[This message has been edited by DLinn (edited 01-12-2005).]

[DLinn]

I was really wanting to add these jokes to the joke thread that had already been started but got off on the wrong foot. What I get for being a newbie.

I'd really like to have ya'll relate your most embarrassing moments.

To get it started I'll relate one of my more tame ones. Monte...do NOT relate the one I told you on the interstate that day in Memphis...I'll drive to MO and hurt you! haha

That one is just between you, me the hundreds of people you have already shared it with!

This was in 1985, where I at 29 and being an ex-hippie, did not wear any bra or underwear. I did however, wear pantyhose when I was hunting or wearing a dress.
On this day I was at work (data-processing facility), wearing my favorite dress. It was a burgundy, gold-striped, nicely belted at the waist, flouncy skirt type dress. Felt very nice. I always thought I looked really nice in this particular dress and loved wearing it.

It was break time one day and after visiting the restroom and washing my hands, I stepped outside the door into a small hallway to the water fountain and bent over to get a drink. A huge gasp and an unrestrained burst of laughter jolted me to an upright position as I spun around to see what was so funny. There was no one in the hallway but the hysterical person and myself. Looking around I didn't see a thing that could have possibly brought on such a display.

Looking confused at the gasping person...she pointed to my hip area and said, "skirt....hahahahahahaha". I reached down and felt the material rising toward the back where when I finished feeling, I could tell that my entire arse was exposed with my skirt tale in the waistband of my pantyhose.

This actually happened a second time at Wal-Mart in the same dress. Luckily my husband was the only shocked onlooker. I immediately went home and cut the dress in half at the waist!!!!!

[montelinn]

Donnas, I don't know if everyone(or anyone) is ready for you (LOL!). You are an incredible person. As for the story from the interstate; since you have mentioned it here... you will have to relate that one. You might have to e-mail kim@positiveidea.com and get a referees call if it would be appropriate. The 100's of people I have told still talk about it and can't wait to meet you. It is the funniest story I have ever heard.
Love Ya!
Bro.

[This message has been edited by montelinn (edited 01-13-2005).]

[DLinn]

Fred the Bassett hound was a joy. He was purchased from the "Dog Sales" at the local livestock yard when he was about 3 years old. He had been traded and traded and wasn't exceptional at rabbit hunting on the day we bought him. He lived to be 16 or so and finally walked off somewhere and never returned. During the 13 years he was in our lives he enriched them with many, many adventures. He achieved hunting greatness in all areas, rabbit, deer, squirrel, food, girl dogs, etc. He was bi-sexual, we didn't hold that against him. He had a beautiful voice.

Many of his adventures involved going hunting with a couple of stoned and/or drunk hillbillies. On one of the trips, Fred was chained (for his benefit, he might have decided to jump out at 55 mph) in the back of a pickup truck, several more dogs were just thrown in. Well, the guys figured that Fred needed a little "movin' around" room and gave him quite a little chain length.

The men hopped in and took off toward the rabbit fields. They pulled up to a stop sign and Fred did exactly what they figured. He jumped over the side of the truck. However, the chain was just the perfect length to allow him to jump but not long enough to allow him to reach the ground, so he was "hung" by his neck off the side of the truck. The driver hit the gas before noticing that Fred was in trouble. When he did noticed, approx. 5 seconds later, he jammed on the brakes, screamed to the other guy and jumped out of the truck to help Fred. He did not, however, put the truck in park, or apply the parking brake.

When he jammed the brakes on, Fred swung forward almost as high as the door handle, tongue stickin' out, then swung back toward the back tire. Back and forth, back and forth as the driver was running alongside the truck trying to figure out how to make everything happen at once. Stop the truck and save the dog.

Finally the driver jumped back into the driver's seat, slammed on the brakes, there went Fred again, jammed the truck in gear, Fred swung back, jumped out of the truck and grabbed the poor dog. He picked the 40 pound pooch up and hoisted him back into the back of the truck, where Fred sat down, stuck his tongue out, and breathing normally looked at the guys like, "Okay, let's go!" He was ready, as always!

[Kim Yonkee]

Originally posted by DLinn:
I did however, wear pantyhose when I was hunting ...

Would it be unseemly to ask for the significance of this particular item of couture?

I don't hunt. But I do wear pantyhose from time to time.

YES (wear pantyhose) when dining at the Crystal Dining Room of the Crescent Hotel.

NO (don't wear pantyhose) when welding. One random spark and, before you know it, your dainties are super-glued to your Significant Assets.

I thought camo was de rigueur for hunting. But ... pantyhose?

Are guys supposed to wear them too?

[becsflowers]

Don't you remember when Joe Namath wore them in the late 60's????(early 70's?)
They are supposed to help keep you warm!
(Yeah, and my fuzzy thongs will protect you from frostbite....even if it IS for only 3 square inches...LOL!!!!)

[Kim Yonkee]

Well yeah, sure. But that's football. They wear those tight little pants and I could see where the Quarterback would want to protect the Center from unseemly bulges when they're all bent-over at the yardline.

But ... hunting? Isn't it pretty risky to scramble up the deer-stand with your hose on? I would think you could get a lot of runs from the bark.

[DLinn]

Actually, Bec is on the right track. I did wear them for added warmth. Men have it all wrong hunting. They bury their clothes, rub fox piss on their feet, deer funk on all other parts...etc. When I went hunting, I got up early, showered, applied my "Gloria Vanderbilt" perfume, donned freshly washed and softened "urban camo", and practically got ran over by deer time after time. I've suggested the "Vanderbilt" item to dozens of male hunters, no one has taken me up on it yet! haha

[Kim Yonkee]

Ted Nugent, maybe?

Queen size panty hose and a nice Vanderbilt-fragranced cream rinse for his flowing locks?