Sir jokes

My name is Bob, and I am a cow.

My grandfather was a knight, and his name was Sir Loin.

"Aww, it's a boy, let me cut off the ombelicul cored, sir, that's his penis!"

"It's a girl."

What say the child to the man? Shalom.

Man come later give the child: "Here, what you asked for!"

Child: "No, sir! I say Shabbat Shalom. I not ask for salmon!"

Man: "It may be the coin in me ear, hard to hear."

Waiter says, "Sir, we ran out of ranch, so I had the boys in the back improvise. But don't worry... It has even more zip & twang to it!"

During the Wintery Wackiness Wars!

A Soviet Sergeant, stationed stilly near a sloped summit with his silly soldiers!

Then a shout sails from the tippy-top: "A Finnish fighter's fantastic force fractures a hundred heroic Honchos!"

The Kommandant's kerfuffle commences, commanding a caravan of one hundred comrades to conquer the crest!

Nifty navigation notes nil, the nasty news nabs many! After an Hour, hush descends. The high voice hollers, "A Finnish fighter's fantastic force fractures a thousand heroic Honchos!"

Kommander fumes, forcing a further flurry, flinging one thousand fine fellows skyward!

Nearly two hours now and the noisy nuisance ceases, then the shouting starts: "A Finnish fighter's fantastic force fractures ten thousand heroic Honchos!"

The Kommandant kaput! Ten thousand troopers take the trek, taking tanks, trundling skyward, to take the terrain!

Four fearsome, fretful hours then a soldier in tatters comes tumbling, talking: "Stop sending up soldiers, sir! There's two Finns fighting fiercely!"

How does an apple fall from a tree?

I don't know, ask Sir Isaac Newton!

Little Johnny was walking down a dirt country road, and he came upon an old farmer leaning against a fence looking sad, shaking his head. He walked up to the old farmer and asked him what's wrong. The old farmer said, "My mule, he just won't do nothing. He don't work anymore, always looking sad, barely eats, just sad." Little Johnny said, "Can I go talk to him?" "Sure," the old farmer said, "he's back in the barn." Little Johnny went back in the barn, saw the mule just sad, and sighing. A few minutes later, Little Johnny came out and said, "Your mule is fixed." The old farmer ran in, and saw the mule laughing, just rolling, and crying laughing. "Thank you, thank you," the old farmer said, and Little Johnny was on his way. Well, a few days later, Little Johnny was walking down the same old dirt road, and came upon the old farmer again, looking sad. "What's the matter?" Little Johnny asked. "It's my mule again. Ever since you talked to him, he won't do nothing, he won't work, just laughing all day. What did you say?" "Can I go in and talk to him again?" Little Johnny asked. "Sure," said the old farmer, "he's back in the barn." Little Johnny went in the barn and a few minutes later came back out. "Your mule is fixed, sir." The old farmer went in and saw the mule crying, crying really hard. The old farmer came running out of the barn, "Hey boy! What did you say to my mule? One day he's sad, then laughing, now he's crying. Just what did you say to my mule?" Little Johnny smiled and answered, "Well, the first time I told him my dick was bigger than his; this time I showed it to him."

A car alarm went to the store.

Cashier: Hello.

Car Alarm: BMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMWAAAMAAHAMAMAMAMAAMHMMMMMMMMAMAMAMMMMMMMMMMMMMAAMMAMMMMMMMMMMM BBEEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BWAAAAMAAA!

Cashier: That will be 10 Dollars, sir.

A Chinese man moves to the USA after 50 years of living in Shanghai.

He bought a home on a small piece of land.

The friendly American neighbor decides to go across and welcome the new guy.

He goes next door, but on his way up the driveway he sees the Chinese man running around his front yard, chasing about 10 hens.

Not wanting to interrupt these "Chinese customs", he decides to put the welcome on hold for the day.

Next day he decides to try again, but just as he is about to knock on the front door, he looks through the window and sees him urinate into a glass and then drink it.

Not wanting to interrupt another "Chinese custom", he decides to put the welcome on hold for yet another day.

A day later he decides to give it one last go, but on his way next door, he sees the neighbor leading a bull down the driveway and then put his left ear next to the bull's butt.

The American dude can't handle this, so he goes up to the Chinese man and says, "Jeez man, what the hell is it with your Chinese customs? I come over to welcome you to the neighborhood and see you running around the yard after hens. The next day you are pissing in a glass and drinking it, and then today you have your head so close to that bull's butt, it could just about shit on you."

The Chinese man is very taken back and says, "Sorry sir, you no understand, these no Chinese customs I am doing, these are American Customs."

"What do you mean," says the neighbor, "Those aren't American customs."

"Yes they are, man at travel agent tell me," replied the Chinese man. "He say to become true American, I must learn to chase chicks, get piss drunk, and listen to bull-shit!"

A husband and wife at custody court. The judge looks sternly at the ex-wife.

Judge: "Why do you think you deserve custody of the child?"

Ex-wife: "I brought him into this world, so I should have custody of him."

Judge: "That is a simple yet good reason."

Then the judge looks toward the ex-husband.

Judge: "Why do you think you deserve custody of the child, sir?"

The ex-husband thought long and hard about his response. After a brief moment of silence, he replies, "If I put money into a Pepsi machine and a Pepsi comes out, is it mine or the machine's?"

Yes, sir.

Four big guys and they grab on my thighs. Blow up my guts like the 4th of July. If they keep fuckin' my butt then I might just cry. Poop and semen sprayin' on my eyes.

He lick my dick and the cum start sprayin'. Charging up my dick I'ma go super saiyan. When he cum the fuckin' booty I don't do much playing. Then I whispered in his ear, like hey are you stayin'? He said yeah I'm not leavin'.

I guess he George Floyd, cause always leavin'. Not breathin' he chew on my dick like a baby. That's teathin' I'm fuckin' a nigga I think it's named Steven. Hawkin' f*ck him 'til he ain't walkin', dick stone-cold call him BBC. Austin It's a booty massacre when I visit him in Boston. Bought him new titties I don't care what they costin'.

Bitch, hop on the dick do a split. Shout out Lil Baby. My dick is as real as it gets, I'm not fuckin' on him if he don't have tits. I'm catchin' his balls like my name Kyle Bitz.

There's four Big guys, they're grabin' on my thighs. They blow my guts like the 4th of July. If he keep fuckin' my butt then I might cry. There's poop and semen sprayin' on my eyes.

Yes sir, that is a fact tho, take out my dick slip it in his asshole. Swinging my dick through the air like a lasso. Painted his face like Apollo Pocasso (ugh). But I'm not a very good artist, f*ck 'em all good 'til that. Nigga farted planted my seeds in his ass like a garden. The way I play with balls, you should call me James Harden.

Yeah, DigBar is elite, there's four big guys and I'm takin' their meat. I eat the boy's butt, Then I chase him with skeet. And I charge for booty, I promise DigBar Isn't cheap. And I count dudes when I sleep, not sheep, get up in my sheets. And I'm beatin' on my meat.

Bitch. We got four big guys and they grab on my thighs. And they gon' bust on my eyes.

An old man goes to church.

One Sunday morning, an old cowboy entered a church just before services were to begin. Although the old man and his clothes were spotlessly clean, he wore jeans, a denim shirt, and boots that were very worn and ragged. In his hand, he carried a worn-out old hat and an equally worn-out Bible.

The church he entered was in a very upscale and exclusive part of the city. It was the largest and most beautiful church the old cowboy had ever seen. The people of the congregation were all dressed in expensive clothes and accessories.

As the cowboy took a seat, the others moved away from him. No one greeted, spoke to, or welcomed him. They were all appalled at his appearance and did not attempt to hide it.

As the old cowboy was leaving the church, the preacher approached him and asked the cowboy to do him a favor. "Before you come back in here again, have a talk with God and ask him what he thinks would be appropriate attire for worship."

The old cowboy assured the preacher he would.

The next Sunday, he showed back up for the services wearing the same ragged jeans, shirt, boots, and hat. Once again, he was completely shunned and ignored. The preacher approached the man and said, "I thought I asked you to speak to God before you came back to our church."

"I did," replied the old cowboy.

"If you spoke to God, what did he tell you the proper attire should be for worshiping in here?" asked the preacher.

"Well, sir, God told me that He didn't have a clue what I should wear. He said He'd never been in this church."

A man is pulled over by a police officer.

The policeman approaches the driver's door. "Is there a problem, Officer?"

The officer says, "Sir, you were speeding. Can I see your license, please?"

The driver responds, "I'd give it to you, but I don't have one."

"You don't have one?"

The man responds, "I lost it four times for drunk driving."

The officer is shocked. "I see. Can I see your vehicle registration papers, please?"

"I'm sorry, I can't do that."

The officer says, "Why not?"

"I stole this car."

The officer says, "Stole it?"

The man says, "Yes, and I killed the owner."

At this point the officer is getting irate. "You what?!"

"She's in the trunk if you want to see."

The officer looks at the man and slowly backs away to his own car and calls for backup. Within minutes, five police cars show up, surrounding the car. A senior officer slowly approaches the car, clasping his half-drawn gun.

The senior officer says, "Sir, could you step out of your vehicle, please?"

The man steps out of his vehicle. "Is there a problem, sir?"

"One of my officers told me that you have stolen this car and murdered the owner."

"Murdered the owner?"

The officer responds, "Yes, could you please open the trunk of your car, please?"

The man opens the trunk, but there is nothing there.

The officer says, "Is this your car, sir?"

The man says, "Yes," and hands over the registration papers.

The officer, understandably, is quite stunned.

"One of my officers claims that you do not have a driving license."

The man digs through his pockets, pulls out a wallet, and hands it to the officer. The officer opens the wallet and examines the license. He looks quite puzzled.

"Thank you, sir. One of my officers told me you didn't have a license, stole this car, and murdered the owner."

The man replies, "I bet you the lying bastard told you I was speeding, too!"

A politician dies. So a politician dies and ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name.

"So, you're a politician..." "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately, you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that, however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!"

"Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says the politician. "Them's the rules," says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy disappears...

And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds... Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be, right?

"Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite... And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But... Where are all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit misrepresented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is, of course, free, as is the room service, there are extra towels next to the hot tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside..." Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on-site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbor!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift and walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cheerily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course is made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2-foot-tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying on important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Gandhi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear... And they return to their penthouse suite and spend the rest of the night making love as they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows and falls into a deep and happy sleep...

And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then," says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well... I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell," says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again.

The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulfurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks, and the sunshine???"

"Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted..."

Jack opened his drying eyes, awoken by a piercing ray of sunlight shining through crooked blinds. A gentle smell wafted in from the corner of what his temporarily blinded eyes knew to be a dilapidated kitchen. It was the one good thing about his life, that smell. He closed his eyes once more and awaited his call.

“Jacky, breakfast time!” beckoned that oh-so-familiar girlish voice. “Oh, silly me, the handcuffs!”

The same footsteps he always heard, the only ones, tapped along the tile floor as each one of Jack’s limbs were freed from the cold metal that imprisoned them. He’d learned not to resist it, and the acceptance was blissful.

Jack slowly dragged himself to the kitchen table, still adjusting his eyes to the light. Moments later, a bowl was slid over to him by a hand he’d become all too familiar with. Oatmeal with little bits of dried apple mixed in. Even after four years, he still liked it.

“Thank you, Randy,” Jack muttered.

“Jill,” said the girl’s voice across from him. The girl’s voice vanished.

“You call me Randy when I’m having my way with you, boy. Understood?” said the balding, sweat-stained man from whom Jill’s voice came.

“Yes, sir.”

“Now hurry up and eat your food. I want to have some more fun before you expire.”

Jack ate obediently, but deep down he grew concerned. Expired? What could Randy mean by...expired?

He thought back to the day everything went wrong. The day he was deceived. His 14th birthday.

Four years...already? Was Jack really about to be an adult? Then expired means...

Jack stood up quickly, hitting his knees on the table with a thud.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Which one?”

“The one you don’t like to watch,” Jack replied. Randy waved him away dismissively.

Jack paced around the small shack searching for the bathroom door. He passed the heavily locked front door, each lock a memento of his past escape attempts. Finally, he entered the bathroom. No lock, he had to be fast.

Jack searched desperately around the room for anything he could use. If this was his last round before Randy was through with him, it might be his only chance to escape. He opened drawers, scrounged through cupboards, scoured every inch of the floor, but found a small mirror.

“Almost done, Jacky?” called the voice of Jill. “Don’t keep daddy waiting.” grumbled Randy.

Startled, Jack lost his grip on the mirror. Jack froze the second it fell to the floor and shattered.

“Shit...shit!” he whispered sharply, trying to brush the mess away. In doing so, he found a shard large enough to be held. “This’ll have to do...”

Jack slid the shard in his pocket and returned to the living room he had woken up in. The same old deflated mattress was still there, iron bars and all. Randy lay sprawled across it, a pink lace bra covering his hairy chest, matching panties withholding his dense, greasy bush. His waist had grown so fat they hardly fit, until...

SNAP!

The panties seemed to vanish as the waistband broke, springing his embarrassing, already erect penis from side to side.

“Oopsies,” he cooed.

Jack took off his clothes, as was the ritual, and laid them at the foot of the mattress. His sore knees pressed into the stained fabric while he inched closer to Randy’s pulsating cock. Licking his lips, Jack bent down and took the member into his mouth. Randy groaned with pleasure as Jack’s tongue swirled around his tip, diving into the lining of his foreskin to gather what curds of smegma were present. Jack’s nausea at this had vanished long ago, he was merely going through the motions before enacting his plan.

As he throated Randy’s dick over and over again, the man who had trapped Jack for so long began to thrust upward into his mouth, lightly scratching his face with the overgrown pubes that lined the base of his cock. Jack wiggled his tongue in Randy’s urethra, just how he liked it. Anything to get this over with quicker.

“Ungh, fuck...don’t stop Jack, you dirty little whore...I’m so close,” Randy moaned.

Jack sucked harder and harder, faster and faster, all while his hand slowly inched toward the makeshift blade in his pants behind him. With the weapon in hand, Jack gave it everything he had.

“MMMPH FUCK YES, CMON BABY GIVE IT TO ME! OH JACK, OH, OH FUCK, I’M G-GONNA CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!” screamed Randy, closing his eyes tightly.

He threw his head back and Jack took his chance. With one fell swoop of the glass shard, he sliced Randy’s dick clean off, spitting the half of it still in his mouth out. Jack lunged at the injured Randy, glass still in hand.

“AAARRGGHHHHHH, FUCK! HAAH...FUCK!” Randy cried, semen oozing out of his bloody stump of a penis. He opened his eyes just as Jack thrust the blade straight into his right one, then his left. Left weak from the orgasm, Randy could hardly fight back.

(To be continued in comments)