Liverpool FC Forum

s@int wrote:A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon. As she laid 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 duck, Cuddles, has passed away.
The distressed owner wailed, "Are you sure"?
"Yes, I am 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, and 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 cat. The cat jumped up on the table and also sniffed delicately at the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook it's head, meowed softly 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 percent 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 with the lab report and the cat scan, it's now $150."

Ginger haired Galway man, a trouble-maker, gets slit-eyed
and shirty after a few scoops, seeks attractive, wealthy lady
for bail purposes, maybe more.

CharmlessMan wrote:Ode to a penis
I'll tell you a short poem;
I'll try to make it quick.
You might think it quite harmless;
You might well find it sick.
The subject is quite simple:
The joy of having a dick.

Penises are super things;
You ladies should be jealous.
Ever since the early days,
When it was small and hairless;
I've looked upon that bit of flesh,
As something very precious.


It starts to grow dramatically,
When you're about thirteen.
Your testicles on either side;
Your willy in between.
When erect it's quite a sight;
A purple love machine.


It dangles neatly down below;
Obedient and loyal.
Its seeds are hidden well within;
Awaiting some fresh soil.
At the slightest hint of lust,
It's ready to uncoil.


It has a mind all of its own;
It's like a wild beast.
It squirms and writhes and stretches out;
When you expect it least.
You can't control its energy;
You must wait 'til it's ceased.

Handle it with love and care;
For it can give great pleasure.
Has it grown since last weekend?
And when did you last measure?
Still, no matter what its length;
It's something you should treasure.

Sometimes, yes, it misbehaves;
Erecting when it shouldn't.
A bumpy train ride sets it off;
Just when you wish it wouldn't.
Did that lady notice it?
You blush and hope she couldn't.

Some people fret about its size;
They give it lots of thought.
Is seven inches long enough?
It makes blokes quite distraught.
They peek across in public loos,
And try not to get caught.

Masturbating is a sin;
That's what some folk believe.
But those are just old wives' tales;
Outdated and naive.
And if you're feeling tense or stressed,
A quick W*nk does relieve.

Without this fabulous device,
No [flash=1,1]http://i.euniverse.com/funpages/cms_content/1493/PenisSong8_HB5.swf[/flash]would be complete.
Lesbians will try their best;
But must admit defeat.
And what a handy tool it is,
When one needs to excrete.

The penis is quite marvelous;
It has so many uses.
For women it is special too;
Excitement it induces.
And babies can be procreated,
From its sperm-filled juices.

And always it remains with you;
Until you're old and frail.
Don't take it out in public though,
Or you'll be thrown in jail.
Just look at it and feel proud;
And thank the lord you're male.