Jokes! (Bangor, Skowhegan: price, bill, eat)

[txmom]

Texas rancher visiting Maine asks a local Maine farmer how big his spread is.
"Ayup," says the farmer, "well, do you see that stone wall? It goes down to theya, then back up this-a way to that big Pine tree, then back this-a-way to the dirt road...Ayup...that's all my farm."

"Shoot, boy. I've got me a ranch in Texas so big it takes me ALL morning just to drive 'round it in my pick up!"

Mainer says, "Ayup, I've got a truck like that, too!"

[mensaguy]

Two country bumpkins were having the blue plate special at their favorite diner, when they heard this awful choking sound. They turned around to see a lady, a few bar stools down, turning blue from wolfing down a burger too fast. The first hillbilly said to the other, "Think we otta' help?" "I reckon," said the second hillbilly. The first hillbilly got up and walked over to the lady and said, "Kin yew breathe?" She shook her head no. "Kin yew talk?" he asked. She again shook her head no. With that he helped her to her feet, lifted up her skirt and licked her on the butt. She was so shocked, she coughed up the obstruction and began to breathe, with great relief. The first hillbilly turned back to his friend and said, "Funny how that there Hind Lick Maneuver works ever' time."

[flycessna]

Are you a Democrat, a Republican, or a Mainer?


Here is a little test that will help you decide. The answer can be found
by posing the following question:


You're walking down a deserted street with your wife and two small
children.

Suddenly, an Islamic Terrorist with a huge knife comes around the corner,
locks eyes with you, screams obscenities, praises Allah, raises the knife,
and charges at you. You are carrying a 40 caliber Glock, and you are an
expert shot. You have mere seconds before he reaches you and your family.
What do you do?

THINK CAREFULLY






Democrat's Answer:

Well, that's not enough information to answer the question!

Does the man look poor or oppressed?

Have I ever done anything to him that would inspire him to attack?

Could we run away?

What does my wife think?

What about the kids?

Could I possibly sw ing the gun like a club and knock the knife out of his
hand?

What does the law say about this situation?

Does the Glock have an appropriate safety built into it?

Why am I carrying a loaded gun anyway, and what kind of message does this
send to society and to my children?

Is it possible he'd be happy with just killing me?

Does he definitely want to kill me, or would he be content just to wound
me?

If I were to grab his knees and hold on, could my family get away while he
was stabbing me?

Should I call 9-1-1?

Why is this street so deserted?

We need to raise taxes, have a paint and weed day, and make this a
happier,
healthier street that would discourage such behavior.

This is all so confusing! I need to debate this with some friends for few
days and try to come to a consensus.

Republican's Answer:

BANG!


Mainer's Answer:

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

BANG! Click..... (Sounds of reloading)

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

BANG! Click

Daughter: 'Nice grouping, Daddy ! Were those the Winchester Silver Tips
or Hollow Points?'

Son: "Can I shoot the next one!"

Wife: "You're not takin' that to the Taxidermist

[AliceT]

An elderly man is sitting on a bench and looking very worried. A businessman sits next to him and asks what the trouble is. The elderly man sniffles, wipes tears from his eyes and begins telling his tale of woe:

A few weeks ago, I married a beautiful young woman. She is everything any man desires, she's pretty, she's educated, cooks like a chef, is wealthy in her own right, has her own business that she conducts from our home, loves sex as much as me, loves to dress up or down just to amuse me, drops whatever she is doing whenever I come in the house to hug and kiss me until we fall right there at the door to make mad passionate love on the spot, has wonderful parents who are supportive of both of us and appreciates that she found someone who loves her the way I do. She even fixes things around the house and works on her own car. I'm the envy of everyone I know because of my wonderful, sexy, young wife. All I have to do is enjoy my perfect life with her.

The businessman thinks for a second, then asks, "Then why are you so sad?"

The elderly man starts crying more visibly, clenches his fists in despair and in a tearful voice says, "I can't remember where I live."

[corgis]

This is for all you Led Zepplin fans, Viking fans and kitty cat fans - it'll make you smile.


YouTube - Viking Kittens

[mensaguy]

A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon. As she lay her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest. After a moment or two, the vet shook his head sadly and said, "I'm so sorry, your pet has passed away."

The distressed owner wailed, "Are you sure?"

Yes, I'm sure. The duck is dead," he replied.

"How can you be so sure," she protested. "I mean, you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something."

The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room. He returned a few moments later with a black Labrador Retriever.

As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head.

The vet patted the dog and took it out and returned a few moments later with a beautiful cat. The cat jumped up on the table and also sniffed the bird from its peak to its tail and back again. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly, jumped down and strolled out of the room.

The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck." Then the vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman. The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$150!" she cried. "$150 just to tell me my duck is dead?!!"

The vet shrugged. "I'm sorry. If you'd taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20. But what with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it all adds up."

[AliceT]

An elderly couple sat, rocking in their rocking chairs on the porch of a nursing home. Their faces fixed emotionless as they let their minds drift in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

Suddenly, the expression on the woman changed from relaxed to anger. She breathed more deeply and stopped rocking, looked toward her husband of 60 years and whacked him so hard he nearly fell off his rocker. The dazed old gentleman regained his balance, then looked curiously at his wife and asked, "Wh... What was that for?" His elderly wife, still fuming, had returned to rocking but clearly said, "For 42 years of lousy sex!" The husband, felt inferior, but nodded and resumed rocking.

Several minutes later, the elderly husband's facial expression changed from defeat to anger as he stopped rocking, looked at his wife and whacked her so hard it knocked her off rocker on it's side. The old woman manages to regain her composure, right the rocking chair and get seated in it again before she looks astonishingly at her husband. After several minutes of adjusting herself, she angrily asks, "And what in this world was that for?"

The still angry old man says, "For knowing the difference!"

[Zymer]

Budreau and Tibodeau come up to Maine for a vacation and to some fishin'. Since they di'n wan to drag they own boat alla way from Lou'sian they had to go to de boat rentin' place to get one. So it's a fine day an' dey out on de lake an ketchin' lots o' fish an' Budreau, him say to Tibodeau, "Tib, we be gittin' just a mess o' fish heah, why doan you go ahead an mark dis spot so's we can come back again tomorra."

Later on that evenin' they be drivin' back to de motel an'Budreau say "Hey Tib, did you mark dat spot like I done tol' you?"

An' Tibby say "Mais yeah, I put a big 'X' right dere on de side o' de boat."

Budreau, him get all mad an' say "Awwwww, you stupide, now how you know we gon' get de same boat tomorra?!"

[Cornerguy1]

Got some beauties in this thread, folks.

Let's keep in mind, though, that it's a state forum, so let's stick to Maine-oriented humour and strive for good taste.

[AliceT]

This isn't a joke, it really happened - to me. Everyone I tell it to thinks it's a joke.

Back when I was 5 or 6 (back when dinosaurs still roamed), we lived a couple blocks from a fisherman liar's club. I don't remember exactly what it was but fishermen would tie their boats to the docks and come into the clubhouse and swap stories, have some coffee or a bite to eat and then hop back in their boats and head back where they came from.

As I recall it, the dock was much higher than the water and boaters had to climb up several rungs of a ladder to reach the deck of the docks.

I would wander down to the docks and look into all the boats to see if the fishermen had caught anything. If they had, they weren't usually visible. But one day, there was this one boat that had a big pile of fish in it. I was intrigued by this rare find. I sat on the dock to get closer and looked intently at the pile of dead fish.

I'm not sure how long I had been sitting there when a huge pair of occupied boots parked on either side of me. I looked up at the bearded and weathered face looking down at me. He asked if I wanted to get on the boat to see them up close. I smiled. He picked me up and placed me right on the boat, right next to the pile of dead fish. Then he vanished into the liars club.

I remember my exact sentiment at the time: WOW.

But of course, just looking at them was nothing. I was standing right beside this pile of fish ... I could ... I could ... touch them. WOW.

So I looked up at the dock and around at all the other boats. I wasn't sure if it was OK to touch them. Nobody was looking. I could touch one. Nobody would know. I leaned down, knees bending, hand reaching ever so slowly toward the closest fish. Closer ... reaching ... closer still ... almost there ... finger tips just about to touch ... the closest fish. And just a hair's width from actually touching one of the fish, it flipped and T-boned my face.

Scared me right out of my socks! I went from in-the-boat to on-the-dock in less time than it takes to blink. I hit the dock running, ran all the way home and never considered returning to the docks. I don't remember how old I was when I stopped thinking a dead fish would slap me if I looked at it.

I love seafood, so I think it's safe to say I'm over it.