Monday, May 5, 2014

Greetings Laff Lovers,

I was talking with an acquaintance just now who happens to be a lawyer. Turns out his father was a lawyer, his grand- father was a lawyer, they've been a family of lawyers for generations.

This got me thinking of the historical identity of my family. Were we doctors? No. Were we writers? No. What we are, and have always been, is entrepreneurs. All the way back to before the Civil War ancestors of mine have been trying to sell somebody something.

I'd like to tell you that I am the seed of some Rockefeller-like mogul, but I'm not. I am the seed of old Great Granny Z, who out of necessity, opened the family's first house of ill repute.

It wasn't just any old brothel, Great Granny Z had class and became the first entrepreneur in the family to distinguish herself as head and shoulders above her peers. She had a credo, and her credo was handed down to the successive generations of entrepreneurs in the family. All sons and daughters who've ever picked up the merchant torch have accepted her credo as their legacy and birthright.

When my great ancestors died, their progeny were not consumed with wills and estates, rather they tried to impart on their young the timeless credo that helped build that wealth.

What was Great Granny Z's whorehouse credo, you ask?

The customer always cums first.

Historically,

TZ

Send me comments, jokes and pictures of all the hot women in your family at this link: tz@gophercentral.com

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My wife asked me to go to the video store and get 'Scent of a Woman' the other day.

She hit me when I came back with a 'Fish Called Wanda'.



A young boy asked his mother, "Ma, is it true that people can be taken apart like machines?"

"Of course not, where did you hear such nonsense?" replied his mother.

The young boy answered, "The other day, Daddy was talking to someone on the phone, and he said that he screwed the ass off his secretary."



A fellow walked up to me the other day and said, "Have you seen a cop around here anywhere?"

I said, "No, I haven't."

He said, "Great. Stick 'em up!"



A Preacher wanted to raise money for his church and, being told there were fortunes in Race horses, he decided to purchase one and enter it in the races.

However, at the local auction, the going price for horses was so steep he ended up buying a donkey instead. He figured that since he had it, he might as well go ahead and enter it in the races, and to his surprise the donkey came in third.

The next day the racing sheets carried the headlines, "Preacher's Ass shows"

The Preacher was so pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the races again and this time he won! The papers said, "Preacher's Ass out in Front" The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the Preacher not to enter the donkey in another race.

The newspaper printed this headline, "Bishop Scratches Preacher's Ass". This was just too much for the Bishop and he ordered the Preacher to get rid of the animal.

The Preacher decided to give it to a Nun in a nearby convent. The headlines the next day read, "Nun has the Best Ass in Town"

The Bishop fainted.

He informed the Nun that she would have to dispose of the donkey and she finally found a farmer who was willing to buy it for $10.00.

The paper states, "Nun Peddles Ass for Ten Bucks"

They buried the Bishop the next day.