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from popular links http://bit.ly/2EZKO2e
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| submitted by /u/adventuresoftors to r/BlackPeopleTwitter [link] [comments] |
Husband: Well next time take the car then silly
A very sexually active woman tells her plastic surgeon that she wants her vaginal lips reduced in size because they were flapping in the breeze. Out of embarrassment she insisted that the surgery be kept a secret and the surgeon agreed.
Awakening from the anesthesia after the surgery she found three roses carefully placed beside her on the bed.
Outraged, she immediately calls in the doctor. "I thought I asked you not to tell anyone about my operation!"
The surgeon told her he had carried out her wish for confidentiality and that the first rose was from him: "I felt sad because you went through this all by yourself."
"The second rose is from my nurse. She assisted me in the surgery and empathized because she had had the same procedure done some time ago."
"And what about the third rose?" she asked.
"Oh, that rose is from a man upstairs in the burn unit. He wanted to thank you for his new ears."
EDIT: Thanks for all the upvotes!!
I had a huge number of messages claiming labia size is not connected to sexual activity, good news for y'all: You are right!!
But for the record this is only a joke, I never said I was a doctor and this is not a scientific magazine. In jokes people can have wishes from the lamp's genie and other incredible stuffs, so can you just not imagine the woman wanted them a little less bigger just for esthetic's reasons so she can feel confident, the same way people change theirs hairs cut, make tattoos and have breast implants? Take it easy my friends!
Happy and funny new year!!
A poor Irish family lives on a farm and they rely on their single cow for income.
One morning, the father walks outside to find their cow dead.
"There is nothing that could help get us out of poverty now," says the dad as he shoots himself.
The mom walks outside and sees the dad and the cow on the ground.
"I can't live without my husband," she says as she shoots herself with her husband's gun.
The daughter walks outside and sees her mother, father and cow dead.
"I can't live any longer without my family," she says as she jumps into the river and kills herself.
The oldest son, 23 years old, walks outside looking for the family and sees them all dead.
"Is there anyway to bring them back," he yells at the sky.
Poof! A female leprechaun appears.
"I will bring your whole family back to life, even the cow," she says, "if you can fuck me 5 times in a row. If not I get to kill you."
The boy fucks her 3 times in a row and he dies.
The middle son, 19 years old, comes out and sees the leprechaun. She gives him the same offer as his brother.
"I will bring your whole family back to life, even the cow," she says, "if you can fuck me 5 times in a row. If not I get to kill you."
The son agrees to do it but can only do it 4 times. He dies.
The youngest son, 15 years old, comes out and is given the same offer.
"I will bring your whole family back to life, even the cow," she says, "if you can fuck me 5 times in a row. If not I get to kill you."
The son says, "What if I fuck you 10 times in a row?"
The leprechaun thinks. She says, "I will bring back your family and give you my pot of gold.
The son says, "What if I fuck you 20 times in a row?"
She thinks again and says, "I will bring back your family, give you my pot of gold and give you a mansion."
The son thinks and says, "What if I fuck you 30 times in a row?"
She thinks and says, "I will bring back your family and make you the richest man in Ireland."
The son says, "Wait, how do I know you will survive it?"
"What do you mean?" says the leprechaun.
"The cow didn't."
He found his way to the menswear department where a young lady offered to help him.
"Quiero calcetines," said the man.
"I don't speak Spanish, but we have some very nice suits over here," said the salesgirl.
"No, no quiero trajes. Quiero calcetines," said the man.
"Well, these shirts are on sale this week," declared the salesgirl.
"No, no quiero camisas. Quiero calcetines," repeated the man.
"I still don't know what you're trying to say. We have some fine pants on this rack," offered the salesgirl.
"No, no quiero pantalones. Quiero calcetines," insisted the man.
"These sweaters are top quality," the salesgirl probed.
"No, no quiero sueter. Quiero calcetines," said the man.
"Our undershirts are over here," fumbled the salesgirl, beginning to lose patience.
"No, no quiero camisetas. Quiero calcetines," the man repeated.
As they passed the underwear counter, the man spotted a display of socks and happily grabbed a pair. Holding them up he proclaimed, "Eso sí que es!"
"Why didn't you just spell it in the first place?!" yelled the salesgirl.