The population of this country is 300 million.

 

160 million are retired.

 

That leaves 140 million to do the work.  

 

There are 85 million in school.

 

Which leaves 55 million to do the work.

 

Of this there are 35 million employed by the federal government.

 

Leaving 15 million to do the work.

 

2.8 million are in the armed forces preoccupied with killing Osama
Bin-Laden.

 

Which leaves 12.2 million to do the work.

 

Take from that total the 10.8 million people who work for state and city
Governments. And that leaves 1.4 million to do the work.  

 

At any given time there are 188,000 people in hospitals.

 

Leaving 1,212,000 to do the work.

 

Now, there are 1,211,998 people in prisons  

 

That leaves just two people to do the work

 

You and me.

 

And there you are,

 

Sitting on your ass,

 

At your computer, reading jokes.

 

Nice. Real nice.

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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!!

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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!”

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 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”????

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SAY YOUR CRUSHES NAME UNTIL YOU REACH
 THE END WHERE IT SAYS STOP

       Y
         YO
           YOU
             YOUR
                YOURC
                  YOURCR
                    YOURCRUS
                       YOURCRUSH
                          YOURCRUSHL
                            YOURCRUSHLO
                               YOURCRUSHLOV
                                 YOURCRUSHLOVE
                                    YOURCRUSHLOVES
                                       YOURCRUSHLOVESY
                                          YORCRUSHLOVESYO
                                            YOURCRUSHLOVESYOU
                                            YOURCRUSHLOVESYOU

                                           YOURCRUSHLOVESYO
                                          YOURCRUSHLOVESY
                                          YOURCRUSHLOVES
                                          YOURCRUSHLOVE
                                         YOURCRUSHLOV
                                       YOURCRUSHLO
                                     YOURCRUSHL
                                   YOURCRUSH
                                YOURCRUS
                             YOURCRU
                          YOURCR
                       YOURC
                   YOUR
                 YOU
              YO
            Y
             Y
               YO
                  YOU
                     YOUR
                       YOURC
                        YOURCR
                          YOURCRU
                           YOURCRUS
                             YOURCRUSH
                               YOURCRUSHL
                                YOURCRUSHLO
                                 YOURCRUSHLOV
                                  YOURCRUSHLOVE
                                   YOURCRUSHLOVES
                                    YOURCRUSHLOVESY
                                     YOURCRUSHLOVESYO
                                      YOURCRUSHLOVESYOU

       ***stop***

             NOW MAKE A WISH

   10
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   9
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   8
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   7
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   6
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   5
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   4
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   3
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   2
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   1
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   *
   0

   ***stop****

 NOW YOUR CRUSH LOVES YOU BUT BEFORE HE/SHE TELLS
 YOU IN  SOME WAY YOU MUST SEND THIS TO 20 PEOPLE IN
 AN HOUR OR LESS. YOU CAN send IT BACK TO THE PERSON
 WHO SENT IT TO YOU.  ****GOOD LUCK***

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