Relationship Jokes / Recent Jokes
One evening after work, a man drove his secretary home after she had a little too much to drink at a party. Although nothing happened, he decided not to mention it to his wife.
Later that night, the man and his wife were driving to a movie when he spotted a high-heeled shoe hidden under the passenger seat. Pointing to something out the passenger window to distract his wife, he picked up the shoe and tossed it out of his window.
They arrived at the theater a short time later and were about to get out of the car when his wife asked, "Honey, have you seen my other shoe?"
Mr. Smith got himself a new secretary. She was young, pretty, sweet and polite. One day while taking dictation she noticed his fly was open. Upon leaving the room she said,' Mr. Smith, do you know your barracks door is open?'
He didn't immediately understand her remark but later on he glanced down and saw his zipper was open. He decided to have some fun with his new secretary. He called her in and asked,' By the way Miss Jones, when you saw my barracks door was open this morning, did notice the soldier standing at attention?'
' Why, no Mr. Smith,' she replied sweetly,' all I saw was a disabled veteran sitting on two old duffel bags.'
One Monday morning, a mailman was walking through the neighborhood on his usual route. As he approached one of the homes, Bob, a homeowner, was coming out with a load of empty beer and liquor bottles.
"Wow, Bob, looks like you guys had a hell of a party this weekend," the mailman commented.
Bob replied, "We had about 15 couples from around the neighborhood over and things got a bit wild. We got so drunk that we started playing 'Who Am I?'"
"How do you play that?" the mailman asked.
Bob continued, "Well, all the guys go in the bedroom and we come out one at a time with a sheet covering us, with only our units showing through a hole in the sheet. Then the women try to guess who it is."
The mailman laughed and said, "I'm sorry I missed that."
"Probably a good thing you did," Bob responded, "Your name was guessed four or five times."
Young King Arthur was ambushed and imprisoned by the monarch of a neighboring kingdom. The monarch could have killed him, but was moved by Arthur's youthful happiness. So he offered him freedom, as long as he could answer a very difficult question. Arthur would have a year to figure out the answer; if, after a year, he still had no answer, he would be killed.
The Question: What do women really want?
Such a question would perplex even the most knowledgeable man, and, to young Arthur, it seemed an impossible query.
Well, since it was better than death, he accepted the monarch's proposition to have an answer by year's end. He returned to his kingdom and began to poll everybody: the princess, the prostitutes, the priests, the wise men, the court jester. In all, he spoke with everyone but no one could give him a satisfactory answer. What most people did tell him was to consult the old witch, as only she would know the answer. The price would be high, since the witch was famous more...
Why don't vegetarian women scream during orgasms?
They refuse to admit that a piece of meat gives them pleasure!
A Marine stationed in Afghanistan recently received a "Dear John" letter from his girlfriend back home. It read as follows:
Dear Ricky, I can no longer continue our relationship. The distance between us is just too great. I must admit that I have cheated on you twice, since you've been gone, and it's not fair to either of us. I'm sorry.
Please return the picture of me that I sent to you. Love, Becky
The Marine, with hurt feelings, asked his fellow Marines for any snapshots they could spare of their girlfriends, sisters, ex-girlfriends,
aunts, cousins etc. In addition to the picture of Becky, Ricky included all the other pictures of the pretty gals he had collected from his buddies.
There were 57 photos in that envelope....along with this note:
Dear Becky,
I'm so sorry, but I can't quite remember who you are. Please take your picture from the pile, and send the rest back to me.
Take Care, Ricky