My penis made me locally famous. I didn’t find out about it until I got to University. Before then my experience of women was nonexistent. I’d been at a boys’ school and anyway I was pretty spotty. I couldn’t believe when, all of a sudden, at the Fresher’s Ball, I was snogging. I was even more amazed when we were in her room. We were both wasted. I didn’t have a clue how to behave, I was terrified, but she knew what to do and in no time we were naked, in bed. She was kissing my mouth. My neck. My chest, my stomach, my….! She stopped. My God! she said, incredulous. Your cock tastes just like CHOCOLATE!

Melanie (her name) wasn’t a shy girl. She must have told her friend Suzy. I realised this the next day when a very attractive girl, with hip clothes and trainers, approached me in the Union Bar and just started chatting. This had NEVER happened to me before. She asked me if I wanted to hear a new C.D. she’d bought and then we were in her room. Halfway through the second track we were naked. She’d hardly even kissed me before her face disappeared under the duvet.

It does! she exclaimed suddenly. It bloody well does!!

Two weeks into University I was still a virgin. I had, however, received twenty three blowjobs from twelve different girls and heard words such as ‘incredible’, ‘amazing’, ‘Bournville’, ‘Swiss’ and ‘Belgian’ exclaimed by mops of hair beneath my bedclothes. I had also been requested to immerse myself in a glass of milk and move vigorously to see if any of the flavour rubbed off. It didn’t.

I went to the Doctor. She didn’t believe me. Nor did she try it out, which I thought shockingly unscientific. But she did see the state I was in and give me a salve.

Okay, so I’ll admit it. For the first year it was great. I could have loads of women, any time I wanted. I got cunning and made them sleep with me first. I got fussy. All the guys on campus were jealous. People who didn’t know me looked wide eyed to see one or more stunning girls on the arm of a spotty, pale youth, with lank dark hair and glasses. What’s he got?, they seemed to ask themselves.

But when the second year came I got really tired of it. There was a whole new year of girls who wanted to try me out. I felt like an object. A specimen. And there was something missing from my life, a yearning. I tried to have conversations with girls, in the coffee bar say, but all the time their eyes would be flicking to my crotch. Their tongues would run over their lips, their eyes would glaze over. I would make a hasty excuse and leave. It was about this time I began to get really upset about it. Everyone had started calling me Hob Nob.

I say everyone, it’s not quite true. Some people called me Willy Wonka.

Hey, it is NOT funny! I was a person! I was more than a sexual organ that just happened to be flavoured like confectionery. Everyone stared at me. All the girls laughed when they saw me. I overheard them talking about me. About it! I think I had a bit of a breakdown, I couldn’t take it. All through my third year I stayed in. I saw no one. The only person I even said Hi to was Sally Hughes, a pretty girl with breasts so huge she seemed to look faintly embarrassed all the time. I had overheard a guy bragging to his friend one day, in the sports hall, about what he’d done to them the night before.

Did you shag her? the friend asked.

No, the guy said, but I didn’t care. They were the best breasts I ever came across. Sally Hughes used to smile at me softly whenever we passed each other in the square.

I had given up on my little University world. Everyone knew everything. Because I didn’t have anything to do I studied all the time. I got a First and went to New York, Columbia, for a Masters. I took a deep breath of fresh air. Fantastic! It was great! Nobody knew me! If I hadn’t been for the lousy beer it would have been perfect. I met Laurie a few months later and we started to go out. I’d seen her around in the cafeteria on campus, but it was only when I heard her give a paper on radical feminism that I really noticed her. She wrote about the politics of oral sex. She stood at the lectern in black jeans, white tee shirt, her hair tied back severely, her little fists clenching to emphasise a point.

Oral sex, she concluded, is degrading. The worshipping of the phallus only serves to enforce the enslavement of women. No woman should ever do it, and I certainly won’t do it ever again. Ever. Thankyou.

She stepped down from the platform to rapturous applause from a room mainly filled by women. I was enraptured,entranced. I had to get to know her.

Well, eventually we got it together. Having no chocolate penis to rely on, I had to be myself and for a long time she wasn’t interested. But then it all happened. Nights discussing politics, poetry, walks in the park, old Cocteau movies. Love, smooth and slow, calm as an angel. About a year after we met, she was lying in my bed, naked, her black hair blooming like an impossible rose against my sheets, her flawless skin almost as white as they were. I was so happy. I started to kiss her, to cover her with kisses. I wanted to adore her, to make her feel better than anything; sighs escaped her like wind from a wood across a wheat field…

No! she said.

She took me by the scruff of the neck. Not there!

I stopped.

Why not? I asked. I knew it, she said firmly. I won’t do it to you. I won’t. Not…

I know, I assured her. I want to do it to you. I don’t want you to do it to me ever.

You will, she said, you will! I knew this would happen…

I didn’t listen to her. I knew. There was no way I’d let her even if she wanted to. Never. I covered the insides of her thighs with my face and rested my hands on the tops of her legs. I pushed them apart slightly. She resisted a little but then she opened her legs wider and I…

I stopped. I lifted my head up. Guinness, I said, Guinness!!

On the first working day of the New Year, Peter told his friend Paul, “You won’t believe me. I participated the New Year’s Eve party at John’s. And there I recognized that they have a golden toilet!” “No, I don’t believe that,” answered Paul. “John likes to act like a rich man, but he couldn’t afford a golden toilet.”

Peter said, “Why don’t we stop by his home after work so you can see for yourself?”

After work they went to John’s home and rang the doorbell. Mary, John’s wife, answered the door.

Peter said, “Hi Mary, Paul doesn’t believe you have a golden toilet. Could we come in so that he can see it himself?”

Mary turned around, and shouted into the house, “John! We know now who shat into your tuba on New Year’s Eve!”

 I just wanted to inform everyone that I will no longer be making jokes about Kwaku Morgan. 

 Recently I looked Prince Kwaku Morgan up on google.com and learned that he is a very influential prince who came to America to find a queen.  Kwaku is actually wealthy and when I say wealthy I mean “HE HAS HIS OWN MONEY”….  See below >>>>>>

I am actually hoping that Kwaku will be my friend and forgive me for making jokes about him; after all it’s not often that a prince comes to America and works among everyday Americans.

Prince Kwaku Morgan actually gets his hair cut every Thursday by his barber and gets his teeth brushed everyday by his servants.     

I am being nice to Prince Kwaku Morgan in hopes that he will take us all on vacation like Oprah Winfrey did for her staff.

Please join me in officially welcoming Prince Kwaku Morgan to America.

P.S. Kwaku Morgan: “is your coat velvet”????

WIFE: “There’s trouble with the car. It has water in the carburettor.”
HUSBAND: “Water in the carburettor? That’s ridiculous.”
WIFE: “I tell you the car has water in the carburettor.”
HUSBAND: “You don’t even know what carburettor is. I’ll check it out.
Where’s the car?”
WIFE: “In the pool.”

When I born, I black,
when I grow up, I black,
when I go in
sun, I black,
when I cold, I black,
when I scared, I black,
when I sick, I
black,
and when I die, I still black.

You white folks….
when you born,
you pink,
when you grow up, you white,
when you go in sun, you red,
when you
cold, you blue,
when you scared, you yellow,
when you sick, you green,
when
you bruised, you purple,
and when you die, you gray.
So, who you callin’
colored folks ?

The seven dwarfs always left to go work in the mine early each morning.

As always, Snow White stayed home doing her domestic chores. As lunchtime approached, she would prepare their lunch and carry it to the mine.

One day as she arrived at the mine with the lunch, she saw that there had been a terrible cave-in. Tearfully, and fearing the worst, Snow White began calling out, hoping against hope that the dwarfs had somehow survived.

“Hello, hello!” she shouted. “Can anyone hear me? Hello!”

For a long while, there was no answer. Losing hope, Snow White again shouted, “Hello! Is anyone down there?”

Just as she was about to give up all hope, there came a faint voice from deep within the mine. “Vote for Hillary, Vote for Hillary.”

Snow White fell to her knees, crossed herself and prayed,

“Oh, thank you, God! At least Dopey is still alive.”

There is a dangerous virus being passed around electronically, orally,
and by hand.

This virus is called Weary-Overload-Recreational -Killer (WORK). If you
receive WORK from any of your colleagues, your boss, or anyone else via
any means DO NOT TOUCH IT. This virus will wipe out your private life
completely!

If you should come into contact with WORK, put your jacket on and take
two good friends to the nearest grocery store. Purchase the antidote
known as Work-Isolating-Neutralizer -Extract (WINE) or
Bothersome-Employer-Elimination -Rebooter (BEER). Take the antidote
repeatedly until WORK has been completely eliminated from your system.

You should forward this warning to 5 friends. If you do not have 5
friends, you have already been infected and WORK is controlling your
life.

The Bathtub Test

During a visit to the mental asylum, a visitor asked the
Director how do
you determine whether or not a patient should be
institutionalized.

“Well,” said the Director, “we fill up a bathtub, then
we offer a
teaspoon, a teacup and a bucket to the patient and ask
him or her to empty
the bathtub.”

“Oh, I understand,” said the visitor. “A normal person
would use the
bucket because it’s bigger than the spoon or the
teacup.”

“No.” said the Director, “A normal person would pull the
plug. Do you want
a bed near the window?”

ARE YOU GOING TO PASS THIS ON, OR DO YOU WANT THE BED
NEXT TO MINE ?

You Hit My Car - Steve Harvey Prank Call

We all know those cute little computer symbols called “emoticons,” where:
means a smile and
is a frown.

(_o_) an ass that’s been around

(_x_) kiss my ass

(_?_) Dumb Ass

You have just been e-mooned!