Our beer, Which art in bottles
Hallowed be thy Sport; Thy will be drunk, I will be drunk At home, As it is in the pub Give us each day our daily beverage And forgive us our spillage, As we forgive those who spillest against us Lead us not into poofy wine tasting And deliver us from Tequila For mine is the lager, the chicks and the Rugby Forever and ever. Barmen
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ATTRACTION..... the act of associating horniness with a particular person.
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT ..... what occurs when two extremely horny, but not entirely choosy people meet. DATING..... the process of spending enormous amounts of money, time and energy to get better acquainted with a person whom you don't especially like in the present and will learn to like a lot less in the future. BIRTH CONTROL..... avoiding pregnancy through such tactics as swallowing special pills, inserting a diaphragm, using a condom, and dating repulsive men. EASY..... a term used to describe a woman who has the sexual morals of a man. EYE CONTACT..... a method utilized by one person to indicate that they are interested in another. Despite being advised to do so, many men have difficulty looking a woman directly in the eyes, not necessarily due to shyness, but usually due to the fact that a woman's eyes are not located in her chest. FRIEND..... a person in your acquaintance who has some flaw which makes sleeping with him/her totally unappealing. INDIFFERENCE..... a woman's feeling towards a man, which is interpreted by the man to be "playing hard to get". INTERESTING..... a word a man uses to describe a woman who lets him do all the talking. IRRITATING HABIT..... what the endearing little qualities that initially attract two people to each other turn into after a few months together. LAW OF RELATIVITY..... how attractive a given person appears to be is directly proportionate to how unattractive your date is. NYMPHOMANIAC..... a man's term for a woman who wants to have sex more often than he does. SOBER..... condition in which it is almost impossible to fall in love. Did you know that in the human body there is a nerve that connects the eyeball to the anus? It is called the anal optic nerve. It is responsible for giving people a shitty outlook on life.
If you don't believe it, pull a hair from your arse and see if it doesn't bring a tear to your eye. "The way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you've started."
So I looked around the house to see all the things I started and hadn't finished....and before coming to work this morning I have finished off a bottle of Bacardi, a bottle of red wine, a bottle of Jim Beam, my Prozac, some valium, a small box of chocolates and 2 litres of Fosters Lager, a 1/2 can of cider, a large reefer and some cheese. You have no idea how $%*(# good I feel.... You may pass this on to those you feel are in need of Inner Peace... An Englishman and a Irishman lived next door to each other.
The Irishman had a hen in his yard and every day he would collect the egg the hen laid and have it for his breakfast. One day he went out to fetch the egg and found that the hen had laid it in the Englishman's yard. The Englishman, over the Irishman's loud complaints, claimed the egg as his own. They argued on until the Irishman suggested that they settle things using the old Irish ways. He explained that this involved the combatants taking turns kicking each other in the groin, with the winner being the one spending the least amount of time rolling around on the ground in pain. The Englishman agreed with this approach, and the Irishman claimed the right to take the first shot. Strapping on his heaviest steel-toed, hobnailed boot, he took a running start and gave the Englishman a terrific kick in the groin. Long minutes later, the Englishman managed to get to his feet and gasped "Now it's my turn". The Irishman replied "Ahh sure, just keep the egg" and walked away One day an Englishman, a Scotsman, and an Irishman walked into a pub together. They each bought a pint of Guinness. Just as they were about to enjoy their creamy beverage, three flies landed in each of their pints, and were stuck in the thick head.
The Englishman pushed his beer away in disgust. The Scotsman fished the fly out of his beer, and continued drinking it, as if nothing had happened. The Irishman, too, picked the fly out of his drink, held it out over the beer, and started yelling, "SPIT IT OUT, SPIT IT OUT YOU BASTARD!!!!" An Irishman, Englishman and a German are caught in Saudi Arabia drinking. "
Under Saudi law you are sentenced to 30 lashes then deported. Before you begin you are entitled to something on you back, what would you like?" said the prison guard to the Englishman just before lashing him. The Englishman, being a bit of a cricket fan, asked for linseed oil. When they had lashed him and let him go to catch his flight back to London he groaned and crawled to the airport. Next came the German. "Under Saudi law you are sentenced to 30 lashes then deported. Before you begin you are entitled to something on you back, what would you like?" said the prison guard "Nothing" said the German and, after receiving his lashes spat on the ground, called the prison guards schisers and started off towards the airport. The guards then came to the Irishman. "Under Saudi law you are sentenced to 30 lashes then deported. Before you begin you are entitled to something on you back, what would you like?" "Oh", replied the Irishman, "I'll take the German". Paddy was an inveterate drunkard.
The priest met him one day, and gave him a strong lecture about drink. He said, "If you continue drinking as you do, you'll gradually get smaller and smaller, and eventually you'll turn into a mouse." This frightened the life out of Paddy. He went home that night, and said to his wife, "Bridget....if you should notice me getting smaller and smaller, will ye kill that blasted cat?" First the Lord made man in the Garden of Eden.
Then he said to himself, "There's something he's needing' ". After casting about for a suitable pearl, He kept messing around and created a girl. Two beautiful legs, so long and so slender, Round, slim, and firm, and ever so tender. Two lovely hips to increase his desire, And rounded and firm to bring out the fire. Two lovely breasts, so full and so proud, Commanding his eyes, as he whispers aloud. Two lovely arms, just aching to bless you, And two loving hands, to soothe and caress you. Soft, cascading hair hung down over her shoulder, And two dreamy eyes, just to make him grow bolder. 'Twas made for a man, just to make his heart sing. Then he added a mouth. Ruined the whole thing. This Quenchie Forward that was talking to his mate, and he said "I don't know what to get my wife for her birthday - she has everything, and besides, she can afford to buy anything she wants, so I'm stumped".
His mate said "I have an idea - why don't you make up a certificate saying she can have 60 minutes of great sex, any way she wants it - she'll probably be thrilled". So the fellow did. The next day his mate said "Well? Did you take my suggestion?" "Yes, I did," said the forward. "Did she like it?" hs mate asked. "Oh yes! She jumped up, thanked me, kissed me on the forehead --- and ran out the door, yelling "I'll be back in an hour!!" Young Kev called a local law firm and asked, "Is it true they're suing the cigarette companies for causing people to get cancer?"
"Yes, Kevvy, sure is true," responded the lawyer. "And now someone is suing the fast food restaurants for making them fat and clogging their arteries with all them burgers and fries, is that true, mister lawyer?" "Sure is Kev" "And the lady sued McDonald's for millions when he was given the hot coffee that she had ordered?" "Yep." "And the football player sued the university when he graduated and still couldn't read?" "That's right," said the lawyer. "But why are you asking?" "Cause what I want to know is, I was thinkin', can I sue Bundaberg Rum for all the ugly women I've slept with?" Dear Alcohol,
First and foremost, let me tell you that I'm a huge fan of yours. Your many dimensions are mind boggling (different than beer goggling, which I'll touch upon shortly). Yes, my friend, you always seem to be there when needed. The perfect post-work cocktail, a beer with the game, and you're even around in the holidays hidden inside chocolates as you warm us when we're stuck in the midst of endless family gatherings. Yet lately I've been wondering about your intentions While I want to believe that you have my best interests at heart, I feel that your influence has led to some unwise consequences briefed below for your review. 1. Phone calls: While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the suggestion that any conversation of substance or necessity takes place after 2am. 2. Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal and, though cooking is far from my Specialty why you suggested that I eat a kabob with chilli sauce, coupled with pot noodles and some stale chips (washed down with chocolate milk and topped off with a Kit Kat all after a few cheese curls and chilli cheese fries) is beyond me. Eclectic eater I am, but I think you went too far this time. 3. Clumsiness: Unless you're subtly trying to tell me that I need to do more yoga to improve my balance, I see NO need to hammer the issue home by causing me to fall down. Completely unnecessary. Similarly, it should never take me more than 45 seconds to get the front door key into the lock. 4. Pictures: This can be a blessing in disguise, as it can often clarify the last Point below, but the following costumes are banned from ever being placed on my head in public again: Indian wigs, sombreros, bows, ties, boxes, upside-down cups, inflatable balloon animals, traffic cones, or bras. 5. Beer Goggles: If I think I may know him/her from somewhere, I most likely do not. Please do not request that I go over and see if in fact, I do actually know that person. The phrase 'let's F***' is illegal from now on. While I may be thinking this, please reinstate the brain-to-mouth-block that would stop this thought from becoming a Statement, especially in public. 6. Furthermore, the hangovers have GOT to stop. Now, I know a little penance for our previous evening's debauchery may be in order, but the 2pm-hangover immobility is completely unacceptable. I ask that, if the proper precautions are taken (water, vitamin B, bread products, aspirin) prior to going to bed/passing out facedown on the kitchen floor with a bag of popcorn, the hangover should be minimal and in no way interfere with my daily Saturday or Sunday (or any day for that matter) activities. Come on now, it's only fair you do your part, I'll do mine. Alcohol, I have enjoyed our friendship for some years now and would like to ensure that we remain on good terms. You've been the invoker of great stories, the provocation for much laughter, and the needed companion when I just don't know what to do with the extra money in my pockets. In order to continue this friendship, I ask that you carefully review my grievances above and address them immediately. I will look for an answer no later than Thursday 3pm (pre-happy hour) on your possible solutions and hopefully we can continue this fruitful partnership. Thank you, Your biggest fan ... The teacher was telling the kids about the birds and the bees and she explained that when a man and a woman meet and fall in love, nine months later the stork usually brings them a little baby.
Little Johnny at the back of the class puts his hand up and asks the teacher, "are you sure about the stork miss? Cos my sister just got a little baby and she said it was from a shag at the beach.!!!" A college student challenged a senior citizen, saying it was impossible for their generation to understand his.
"You grew up in a different world," the student said. "Today we have television, jet planes, space travel, nuclear energy, computers..." Taking advantage of a pause in the student's litany, the geezer said, "You're right. We didn't have those things when we were young; so we invented them! What are you doing for the next generation?" This is for the real blokes out there to pass on to all the blokes who now days think it is cool to be a metro. Bring back our masculinity - stop being a bunch of pussies who have far too much gel in their hair and smell and look like chicks.
Something to ponder over a skinny decaf frapachino: Please allow me to vent. I have had it. I've taken all I can stand and I can't stand any more. Every time my TV is on, all that can be seen is effeminate men prancing about, redecorating houses and talking about foreign concepts like "style" and "feng shui." Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, transsexual, metrosexual, non-sexual; blue, green, and purple-sexual... Real men of the world, stand up, scratch your arse, burp, and yell "ENOUGH!" I hereby announce the start of a new offensive in the culture Wars, the Retrosexual movement." The Code: A Retrosexual man, no matter what the women insists, PAYS FOR THE DATE. A Retrosexual DEALS with IT, be it a flat tyre, break-in into your home, or a natural disaster, you DEAL WITH IT. A Retrosexual not only eats red meat, he often kills it himself. A Retrosexual doesn't worry about living to be 90. It's not how long you live, but how well. If you're 90 years old and still smoking cigars and drinking, I salute you. If you are still having sex, you are a God. A Retrosexual does not use more hair or skin products than a woman. Women have several supermarket aisles of stuff. Retrosexuals need deodorant and shaving gear - that's it!! No hair gel / wax! Zip, zilch, nyet, none - ever! A Retrosexual does not dress like a homeboy with baggy pants that look like he's shat himself, or with a gay chain from pocket to pocket. If wearing a hat, wear it correctly - not on the side like a faggot. Blokes and necklaces (unless you are an Australian fast bowler) are out! A Retrosexual should know how to properly kill stuff (or people) if need be. This falls under the "Dealing with IT" portion of The Code. A Retrosexual watches no TV show with "Queer" in the title. A Retrosexual does not let neighbours screw up rooms in his house on national TV. A Retrosexual should not give up excessive amounts of manliness for women. Some is inevitable, but major reinvention of yourself will only lead to you becoming a handbag carrying little puss, and in the long run, she ain't worth it. A Retrosexual is allowed to seek professional help for major mental stress such as drug/alcohol addiction, death of your entire family in a freak BBQ accident, favourite sports team being moved to a different city, favourite dog expiring, etc. You are NOT allowed to see a shrink because Daddy didn't pay you enough attention. Daddy was busy DEALING WITH IT. When you screwed up, he DEALT with you. A Retrosexual will have at least one outfit in his wardrobe designed to conceal himself from prey. A Retrosexual knows how to tie a Windsor knot when wearing a tie -- and ONLY a Windsor knot. A Retrosexual should have at least one good wound he can brag about getting. This does not include males who have had cosmetic surgery. A Retrosexual knows how to use a basic set of tools. If you can't hammer a nail, or drill a straight hole, practice in secret until you can -- or be rightfully ridiculed for the wuss you are. A Retrosexual knows that owning a gun is not a sign that your are riddled with fear, guns are TOOLS and are often essential to DEAL WITH IT. Plus it's just plain fun to fire one off in the direction of those people or things that just need a little "wakin' up". Crying. There are very few reasons that a Retrosexual may cry, and none of them have to do with TV commercials, movies, or soap operas. Sports teams are sometimes a reason to cry, but the preferred method of release is swearing or throwing the remote control. Some reasons a Retrosexual can cry include (but are not limited to) death of a loved one, death of a pet (fish or cats do NOT count as pets in this case), loss of a major body part, or loss of major body part on your Holden ute. When a Retrosexual is on a crowded bus and or a commuter train, and a pregnant woman, heck, any woman gets on, that retrosexual stands up and offers his seat to that woman, then looks around at the other so-called men still in their seats with a disgusted "you rude pricks" look on his face. A Retrosexual will have hobbies and habits his wife and mother do not understand, but that are essential to his manliness, in that they offset the acceptable manliness decline he suffers when married/engaged or in a serious healthy relationship - i. e., hunting, boxing, shot putting, shooting, cigars, car maintenance and drinking piss with the boys. A Retrosexual knows how to sharpen his own knives and kitchen utensils. A Retrosexual man can chop down a tree and make it land where he wants. Wherever it lands is where he bloody well wanted it to land. Except on his ute--that would happen because of a "force of nature", and then the retrosexual man's options are to Cry, or to DEAL with IT, or do both. A Retrosexual will give up his seat on a bus to not only any women but any elderly person. A Retrosexual man doesn't need a contract -- a handshake is good enough. A Retrosexual man doesn't immediately look to sue someone when he does something stupid and hurts himself. We understand that sometimes in the process of doing things we get hurt and we just DEAL WITH IT! Spread the word! A rugby player goes to the doctor and says, 'I've got this sex problem, doc. You've got to help me.'
'Well' says the quack, 'tell me about your average day.' 'Well it all starts in the middle of the night. My girlfriend always wakes me up at about 3am and again at about 5am for nookie. Later, after a quick breakfast we can spend a couple of hours making love before I go to work!' 'I see' says the doc. 'No, hang on' he says, 'you see, when I get on the train to work I meet this girl every day, we get a compartment to ourselves and have sex all the way there.' 'Oh... now I see,' says the quack. 'No you don't' he says, 'When I get to work my secretary really fancies me and I have to give her one in the storeroom.' 'Oh.... now I think I get it' says the quack. No, no, no' he says, 'When I go to lunch I meet this waitress I'm very fond of, and we nip out the back for a quickie.' 'Now I understand,' says the extremely patient doctor. 'No, hang on' he says, 'When I get back to work in the afternoon my boss - who is a very demanding lady I might add - has to have me take her over her desk or she says she'll give me the sack!' 'Ahh....' says the doctor, 'now I see.' 'No, there's more' he says, almost in tears. 'When I get home my missus is so pleased to see me she gives me a blow job before dinner and then we have rampant sex afterwards!' By now, the exasperated doctor is beginning to lose his cool, 'So just what exactly is your problem?!' 'Well...' he says, 'it hurts when I wank.' A rugby back and a rugby forward were sitting next to each other on an airplane. The forward leans over to the back and asks if he wants to play a fun game. The back just wants to sleep so he politely declines, turns away and tries to sleep. The forward persists and explains that it's a real easy game. He explains, 'I ask a question and if you don't know the answer you pay me $5. Then you ask a question and if I don't know the answer I'll pay you $5.' Again the back politely declines and tries to sleep.
The forward, now somewhat agitated, says, 'O.K., if you don't know the answer you pay me $5 and if I don't know the answer I pay you $50!' Now, that got the back's attention, so he agrees to the game. The forward asks the first question, 'What's the distance from the earth to the moon?'. The back doesn't say a word and just hands the forward $5. Now, its the back's turn. He asks the forward, 'What goes up a hill with three legs and comes down on four?' The forward looks at him with a puzzled look, takes out his laptop computer, looks through all his references and after about an hour wakes the back and hands the back $50. The back politely takes the $50 turns away and tries to return to sleep. The forward, a little miffed, asks, 'Well what's the answer to the question?' Without a word, the back reaches into his wallet, hands $5 to the forward, turns away and returns to sleep.
A rugby referee died and went to heaven. Stopped by St Peter at the gates he was told that only brave people who had performed heroic deeds and had the courage of their convictions could enter. If the ref could describe a situation in his life where he had shown these characteristics, he would be allowed in.
'Well,' said the ref, 'I was referee-ing a game between Northern Transvaal and Natal at Loftus Versveld. Northerns were 2 points ahead, 1 minute to go. The Natal wing made a break, passed inside to his lock. The lock was driven on by his forwards, passed out to the flanker who ducked blind and went over in the corner. However, the flanker dropped the ball before he could ground it, and as Natal were clearly the better side all game, I ruled that he had dropped the ball down, not forward, and awarded the try.' 'OK, that was fairly brave of you, but I will have to check it in the book.' says Peter, and disappears to look it up. When he comes back he says 'Sorry, there is no record of this. Can you help me to trace it? When did all this happen?' The ref looked at his watch and replied 'about 45 seconds ago.' |
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