Daily Joke

Help Support CattleToday:

Larrycableguy.jpg
 
His name was Bubba, a Southern boy ... And he needed a loan, So... He walked into a bank in New York City and asked for the loan Officer. He told the loan officer that he was going to Paris for an International Redneck festival for two weeks and needed to borrow $5,000, and that he was not a depositor of the bank.
The bank officer told him that the bank would need some form of security for the loan, so the Redneck handed over the keys to a brand new Ferrari.
The car was parked on the street in front of the bank. The Redneck produced the title and everything checked out. The loan officer agreed to hold the car as collateral for the loan and apologized for having to charge 12% interest.
Later, the bank's president and its officers all enjoyed a good laugh at the Redneck from the South for using a $250,000 Ferrari as collateral for a $5,000 loan. An employee of the bank then drove the Ferrari into the bank's private underground garage and parked it.
Two weeks later, the Redneck returned, repaid the $5,000 and the interest of $23.07.
The loan officer said, "Sir, we are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out on Dunn & Bradstreet and found that you are a Distinguished Alumni from your university, a highly sophisticated investor and Multi-Millionaire with real estate and financial interests all over the world. Your investments include a large number of wind turbines around Sweetwater, Texas. What puzzles us is, why would you bother to borrow $5,000?"
The good 'ole boy replied, "Where else in New York City can I park my car for two weeks for only $23.07 and expect it to be there when I return?"
Just because we talk funny does not mean we are stupid.
 
Last week, I took my grandchildren to a restaurant.
My six-year-old grandson asked if he could say grace.
As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good, God is great. Thank you for the
food, and I would even thank you more if Grandpa gets us ice cream for dessert.
And liberty and justice for all! Amen!"

Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark,
"That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray.
Asking God for ice cream! Why, I never!"

Hearing this, my grandson burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? Is
God mad at me?"

As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job, and God was
certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table.
He winked at my grandson and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a
great prayer."

"Really?" my grandson asked.

"Cross my heart," the man replied.

Then, in a theatrical whisper, he added (indicating the woman whose remark had
started this whole thing),"Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."

Naturally, I bought my grandchildren ice cream at the end of the meal.

My grandson stared at his for a moment, and then did something I will remember the rest of my life.

He picked up his sundae and, without a word, walked over and placed it in front of the woman.

With a big smile he told her

"Here, this is for you. Shove it up your ass you grouchy old bych!"

The End
 
A large woman, wearing a sleeveless sundress, walked into a bar in
Dublin, Ireland. She raised her right arm, revealing a huge, hairy
armpit as she pointed to all the people sitting at the bar and
asked, "What man here will buy a woman a drink?" The bar went
silent as the patrons tried to ignore her.
But down at the end of the bar, an owl-eyed drunk slammed his hand
down on the counter and bellowed, "Give the ballerina a drink!"
The bartender poured the drink, and the woman chugged it down. She
turned to the patrons and again pointed around at all of them,
revealing the same hairy armpit, and asked, "What man here will buy
a lady another drink?"
Once again, the same little drunk slapped his money down on the bar
and said, "Give the ballerina another drink!"
The bartender approached the little drunk and said, "Tell me,
Paddy, it's your business if you want to buy the lady a drink, but why
do you keep calling her the ballerina?"
The drunk replied, "Any woman who can lift her leg that high has
got to be a ballerina!"
 
Leaving Minnesota for Colorado, I decide to make a stop at one of those rest areas on the side of the road. I go in the washroom. The first stall was taken so I went in the second stall. I was barely sitting down when I heard a voice from the other stall saying: "Hi, how are you?"

I'm not the type to start a conversation in the men's restroom
but I don't know what got into me, so I answered, somewhat embarrassed, "Doin' just fine!"

And the other guy says: "So what are you up to?"

What kind of question is that? At that point, I'm thinking this
is too bizarre so I say: "Uhhh, I'm like you, just traveling!"

At this point I am just trying to get out as fast as I can when I
hear another question. "Can I come over?"

Ok, this question is just too weird for me but I figured I could
just be polite and end the conversation. I tell him, "No........I'm a little busy right now!!!"

Then I hear the guy say nervously...

"Listen, I'll have to call you back. There's an idiot in the other
stall who keeps answering all my questions!!!"
 
A cowboy appeared before St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. 'Have you ever done anything of particular merit?' St. Peter asked.

'Well, I can think of one thing,' the cowboy offered.

'On a trip to the Black Hills out in South Dakota , I came upon a gang of bikers, who were threatening a young woman. I directed them to leave her alone, but they wouldn't listen. So, I approached the largest and most tattooed biker and smacked him in the face ... Kicked his bike over, ripped out his nose ring, and threw it on the ground. I yelled, 'Now, back off or I'll kick the crap out of all of you!'

St. Peter was impressed, 'When did this happen?'


'Couple of minutes ago.'
 
Stud fees
A Montana rancher got in his pickup and drove to a neighboring ranch and knocked at the door. A young boy, about 9, opened the door.

'Is yer Dad home?' the rancher asked.

'No sir, he ain't,' the boy replied. 'He went into town.'

'Well,' said the rancher, 'Is yer Mother here?'

'No, sir, she ain't here neither. She went into town with Dad.'

'How about your brother, Howard ? Is he here?'

No sir, 'He went with Mom and Dad.'

The rancher stood there for a few minutes, shifting from one foot to the other and mumbling to himself.

'Is there anything I can do fer ya?' the boy asked politely 'I know where all the tools are, if you want to borry one. Or maybe I could take a message fer Dad.'

'Well,' said the rancher uncomfortably, 'I really wanted to talk to yer Dad.. It's about your brother Howard getting my daughter, Pearly Mae, pregnant.'

The boy considered for a moment. 'You would have to talk to Pa about that', he finally conceded. 'If it helps you any, I know that Pa charges $500 for the bull and $50 for the hog, but I really don't know how much he gets fer Howard .'
 
The skunk has replaced the Eagle as the new symbol for the President.

It is half black, half white, and everything it does stinks.
 

Latest posts

Top