


This is just a bunch of emails I've been sent over the years. You may have seen them before, but who cares? It's just funny!
David Bissonette |
Sacha Guitry |
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Anonymous |
Dumas |
Sigmund Freud |
Anonymous |
Sam Kinison | |
James Holt McGavra | |
Patrick Murra | |
Nash | |
Anonymous | |
Henny Youngman | |
Rodney Dangerfield | |
Anonymous | |
Anonymous | |
>>>> Paddy had been drinking at his local Dublin pub all day and most of the
>> night celebrating St Patrick's Day. Mick, the bartender says, 'You'll not
>> be drinking anymore tonight, Paddy’. Paddy replies, 'OK Mick, I'll be on
>> my way then’. Paddy spins around on his stool and steps off. He falls flat
>> on his face. 'Shoite' he says and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts
>> himself off. He takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his face,
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> 'Shoite,
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> Shoite!'
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if he can just get to
>> the door and some fresh air he'll be fine. He belly crawls to the door and
>> shimmies up to the door frame. He sticks his head outside and takes a deep
>> breath of fresh air, feels much better and takes a step out onto the
>> sidewalk and falls flat on his face.
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> 'Bi'Jesus.... I'm fockin' focked,' he says.
>>
>>
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>> He can see his house just a few doors down, and crawls to the door, hauls
>> himself up the door frame, opens the door and shimmies inside. He takes a
>> look up the stairs and says 'No fockin' way'. He crawls up the stairs to
>> his bedroom door and says 'I can make it to the bed'. He takes a step into
>> the room and falls flat on his face. He says 'Fock it' and falls into bed.
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> The next morning, his wife, Jess, comes into the room carrying a cup of
>> coffee and says, 'Get up Paddy. Did you have a bit to drink last night?'
>>
>>
>>
>>
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>> Paddy says, 'I did, Jess. I was fockin' pissed. But how'd you know?'
>>
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>>
>>
>> 'Mick phoned . . . you left your wheelchair at the pub.'
>>
>>
I was sent this by a scottish female friend, so don't blame me
PREPARATION
Friday night is very much love-night for the Scottish male. Arriving back from the pub, having partaken of the traditional aphrodisiac - 12 pints, a white pudding supper and 3 pickled onions his mind is set on one thing LOVE! Or as he says, "Ma nookie!"
His lust at fever pitch after the sensuous excitement of a hard night's dominoes, he approaches his beloved wife, enticing her with gentle words of passion, "Any chance o' ma hole?"
The good lady in question, perhaps over excited by the erotic smell of stale beer or the sensuous vision of pickled onions sticking to his chin, is at first somewhat reluctant.
This coy reluctance is expressed with the flirtatious
reply, "Awa tae f_ck, ya bampot, ye!"
FOREPLAY
Foreplay is very important indeed. This basically consists of The male casting off his lightly soiled Y-fronts provocatively at his wife, usually landing skid-mark side down, as he approaches the bed singing the ancient Gaelic fertility chant, "Here we go, here we go, Here we go."
Upon reaching the bed, he comments proudly on his rampant 8 incher. This is a classic example of alcohol induced double vision.
INITIAL PROBLEMS
After 12 pints, sometimes the man's member is a trifle reluctant to extend itself (literally). Impotence is very much a blow to the man's self-esteem and the wife has to be very tactful. She will offer gentle and
sensitive words of encouragement such as, "Ya useless b@stard, "or possibly, "I'll tell ye wan thing...it never happens tae the Milkman."
FELLATIO
Oral is a great favourite of the Scotsman. He approaches his wife with a cheeky invitation, "How'd ye like tae pit yer teeth roon this Daphne?" Although the lady's name is not Daphne, she will nod willingly and point suggestively to her falsies smiling happily on the bedside tumbler. "Guan yersel," she says, "jist dinnae bother me."
Undeterred by this slight rejection, the man drives enthusiastically to perform such a service for his wife. !
DOWN TO BUSINESS
Eventually the moment comes to consumate their tender love. Again, alcohol induced double vision is an important factor as the man decides which of his willies to use for penetration. Sometimes in his excitement he may suffer from severe premature ejaculation. A phenomenon he explains to his wife using the poetic phrase, "F_ck me, I've shoat ma load."
If this does occur, it is essential he makes up for disappointing his wife by uttering tender and loving compliments such as, perhaps, informing her that she's the nicest woman he's ever come across.
An imaginative lover, the Scotsman, possibly having read that women
like to be spoken dirty to, says such things as, "Snotters, Shite, a*sehole." The woman is speechless. The man is now thrusting away, his mind a kaleidoscope of jumbled erotic thoughts. The woman wonders if she should repaint the ceiling. Sometimes she utters a word of encouragement such as, "Are you sure its in?"
Given his level of sexual expertise, the Scotsman's ideal partner should be a versatile lover specialising in the faked orgasm. This takes the form of a breathless shout, "Ooyah,ooyah, gallus big man."
Eventually it's all over. The man rolls over, wipes his willie on her nightie, falls asleep and commences snoring like a pig.
Aye, there's no doubt about it, there's no one in the world performs quite like a Scotsman - a veritable prince in the kingdom of sex