Thoughts To Live By…

Archive for January 14th, 2009

Police are warning all men who frequent clubs, parties and local pubs to be alert and stay cautious when offered a drink from any woman.

Many females use a date rape drug on the market called “Beer”. The drug is found in liquid form and available anywhere. It comes in bottles, cans, from taps and in large “kegs”.

“Beer” is used by female sexual predators at parties and bars to persuade their male victims to go home and have sex with them.

A woman needs only to get a guy to consume a few units of “Beer” and then simply ask him home for no strings attached sex.

Men are rendered helpless against this approach. After several “Beers”, men will often succumb to the desires to perform sexual acts on women whom they would never normally be attracted.

After drinking “Beer”, men often awaken with only hazy memories of exactly what happened to them the night before, often with just a vague feeling that “something bad” occurred.

At other times, these unfortunate men are swindled out of their life’s savings, in a familiar scam known as “a relationship.” In extreme cases, the female may even be shrewd enough to entrap the unsuspecting male into a longer-term form of servitude and punishment referred to as “marriage”.

Men are much more susceptible to this scam after “Beer” is administered and sex is offered by the predatory females.

Please forward this warning to every male you know. If you fall victim to this “Beer” and the women administering it, there are male support groups where you can discuss the details of your shocking encounter with similarly affected like-minded guys. For the support group nearest you, just look up “Golf Courses” in the phone book.

Now I lay me down to sleep.
Please don’t send me no more creeps.
Please just send me one good man.
One without a wedding band.

One good man who’s sweet as pie.
Who brushed his teeth and doesn’t lie.
Who dresses neat and doesn’t smell.
And is sexy like my man Denzel.
Is super-rich like Michael J.
On second thought, that’s okay.

Man, if I should die before I wake,
that would truly take the cake;
No matrimony or honeymoon.
No fancy reception planned for June.
No throwing of the wedding bouquet.
Please, God, don’t let me go out that way.
If I die before I meet Mr. Right
I won’t go out without a fight.
But then again with my luck,
He’d probably be just some schmuck.

The single life is not that bad
I know it’s just a passing fad.
I won’t be blue. I will not frown.
Besides, I like my toilet seat down.
No more makeup, won’t comb my hair.
So never mind this stupid prayer.

The single life will do just fine.
So what’s up, girlfriend?
IT’S PARTY TIME!!!!

The GEOGRAPHY OF A WOMAN

Between 18 and 20 a woman is like Africa, half discovered, half wild, naturally beautiful with fertile deltas.

Between 21 and 30 a woman is like America, well developed and open to trade especially for someone with cash.

Between 31 and 35 she is like India, very hot, relaxed and convinced of her own beauty.

Between 36 and 40 a woman is like Italy. Gently aging but still a warm and desirable place to visit.

Between 41 and 50 she is like Yugoslavia, lost the war – haunted by past mistakes. Massive reconstruction is now necessary.

Between 51 and 60, she is like Russia, very wide and borders are unpatrolled. The frigid climate keeps people away.

Between 61 and 70, a woman is like Mongolia, with a glorious and all conquering past but alas, no future.

After 70, they become like Afghanistan. Most everyone knows where it is, but no one wants to go there.

THE GEOGRAPHY OF A MAN

Between 13 and 80 a man is like the US – ruled by a dick.

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl ‘Will you marry me?’

The girl said: ‘NO!’

And the girl lived happily ever after and went shopping, dancing, camping, drank martinis, always had a clean house, never had to cook, did whatever the hell she wanted, never argued, didn’t get fat, traveled more, had many lovers, didn’t save money, and had all the hot water to herself. She went to the theater, never watched sports, never wore friggin’ lacy lingerie that went up her ass, had high self esteem, never cried or yelled, felt and looked fabulous in sweat pants and was pleasant all the time.

Source: www. thehumourarchives.com


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