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Kenny The Rooster - Contains Adult Humour


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A man was riding a bus, minding his own business, when the gorgeous woman next to  him started to breast-feed her baby.The baby wouldn't take it, so she said, 
"Come on sweetie, eat it all up or I'll have to give it to this nice man next to us." 

Five minutes later, the baby was still  not feeding, so she said, 
"Come on, honey. Take it or I'll give it to this nice man here."
A few minutes later, the anxious man blurted out,

 

 

"Come on kid. Make up your mind!
I was supposed to get off four stops ago.

 

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I remember the cheese of my childhood,

and the bread that we cut with a knife.

When the children helped with the housework,

and the men went to work not the wife.

 
The cheese never needed a fridge,
and the bread was so crusty and hot,
the children were seldom unhappy,
and the wife was content with her lot.
 
I remember the milk from the bottle,
with the yummy cream on the top,
dinner came hot from the oven,
and not from the fridge; in the shop.
 
The kids were a lot more contented,
they didn't need money for kicks,
just a game with their mates in the road,

and sometimes the Saturday flicks.
 
I remember the shop on the corner,
where a pen'orth of sweets was sold.
Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic?
Or is it...I'm just getting old?
 
I remember the 'loo' was the lav,
and the bogey man came in the night,
It wasn't the least bit funny,
going "out back" with no light.
 
The interesting items we perused,
from the newspapers cut into squares,
and hung on a peg in the loo,
it took little to keep us amused.
 
The clothes were boiled in the copper,

with plenty of rich foamy suds, 
but the ironing seemed never ending,

as Mum pressed everyone's 'duds'.
 
I remember the slap on my backside,
and the taste of soap if I swore.
Anorexia and diets weren't heard of,
and we hadn't much choice what we wore.
 
Do you think that bruised our ego?
Or our initiative was destroyed?
We ate what was put on the table,
and I know life was better enjoyed.

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A man sees a sign outside a house - 'Talking Dog For Sale.'
He rings the bell, the owner appears and tells him the dog can be viewed in the back garden.
The man sees a very nice looking Labrador Retriever sitting there.
"Do you really talk?" he asks the dog.
"Yes," the Labrador replies....
After recovering from the shock of hearing the dog talk, the man asks, "So, tell me your story."
The Labrador looks up and says, "Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was pretty young.
I wanted to help the government, so I was sold to the SAS.
In no time at all they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one imagined that a dog would be eavesdropping.
I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years".
"But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting any younger so I decided to settle down.
I signed up for a job at Keneddy Airport to do some undercover security work, wandering near suspicious characters and listening in.
I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded several medals".
"Then I got married, had a few puppies, and now I've just retired."
The man is amazed. He goes back into the house and asks the owner how much he wants for the dog.
"Ten quid," the owner says.
10! But your dog is absolutely amazing! Why on earth are you selling him so cheaply?"
"Because he's a lying *******... he's never been out of the garden.

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The judge says to a double-homicide defendant..."You're charged with beating your wife to death with a hammer."
A voice at the back of the courtroom yells out, "You *******!"
The judge says, "You're also charged with beating your mother-in-law to death with a hammer."
The voice in the back of the courtroom yells out, "You rotten *******!"
The judge stops and says to George in the back of the courtroom....
"Sir, I can understand your anger and frustration at these crimes,
but no more outbursts from you, or I'll charge you with contempt.
Is that understood?"
George stands up and says, "I'm sorry, Your Honor, but for fifteen years I've lived next door to that *******, and every time I asked to borrow a hammer, he said he didn't have one!!..

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She was standing in the kitchen, preparing
our usual soft-boiled eggs and toast for
breakfast, wearing only the 'T'shirt that she
normally slept in. As I walked in, almost
awake, she turned to me and said softly,...
"you've got to make love to me this very
moment"
My eyes lit up as I thought, "I am either still
dreaming or this is going to be my lucky day"
Not wanting to lose the moment, I embraced
her and then gave it my all; right there on the
kitchen table.
Afterwards she said, "Thanks," and returned
to the stove, her T-shirt still around her neck.
Happy, but a little puzzled, I asked, "what
was that about" She explained,
"The EGG TIMER'S broken"

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Dai proposed to Megan and it had been accepted. "But", added Megan, "before we get married I must tell you something dreadful about my past life."
"No," said Dai, "I won't hear of it. You can tell me after we're married."
After they were married and had set off for their honeymoon in Porthcawl, Megan again brought up the subject of her "dreadful secret".
"No," said Dai, "it can wait. Tell me when we're in bed together, that'll be soon enough."
That night as they got into ...bed Megan declared "Well, Dai, now I really do have to tell you my secret. You see, I'm a virgin."
Dai didn't say a word but put on his clothes and travelled all the way back to his mother's house.
"Dai!" said his mother, "what are you doing here, you're supposed to be on your honeymoon."
"It's no good", said Dai, "I've had to leave Megan; it turns out she's a virgin."
"Well, Dai," said his mother, "in that case you were quite right to come home.
If she's not good enough for the rest of the village she's not good enough for you."

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Pet Diaries:
Excerpts from a Dog's Diary:
* 8:00 am - Dog food! My favourite thing!
* 9:30 am - A car ride! My favourite thing!
* 9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favourite thing!...
* 10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favourite thing!
* 12:00 pm - Lunch! My favourite thing!
* 1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favourite thing!
* 3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favourite thing!
* 5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favourite thing!
* 7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favourite thing!
* 8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favourite thing!
* 11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favourite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Diary:
Day 983 of my captivity.
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am.
*******s!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow - but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now!!..

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A young family moved into a house next door to an empty plot. One day, a gang of building workers turned up to start building on the plot.
The young family's 5-year-old daughter naturally took an interest in all the activity going on next door and started talking with the workers.
She hung around and eventually the builders, all with hearts of gold, more or less adopted the little girl as a sort of project mascot. They chatted with her, let her sit with them while they had ...
tea and lunch breaks, and gave her little jobs to do here and there to make her feel important.
They even gave the child her very own hard hat and gloves, which thrilled her immensely.
At the end of the first week, the smiling builders presented her with a pay envelope - containing two pounds in 10p coins. The little girl took
her 'pay' home to her mother who suggested that they take the money to the bank the next day to open a savings account.
At the bank, the female cashier was tickled pink listening to the little girl telling her about her 'work' on the building site and the fact she had a 'pay packet'.
'You must have worked very hard to earn all this', said the cashier.
The little girl proudly replied, 'Yes, I worked every day with Steve and Wayne and Mike. We're building a big house.'
'My goodness gracious,' said the cashier, 'And will you be working on the house again next week?'
The child thought for a moment. Then she said seriously:
'I think so. Provided those ****ers at Jewsons deliver the ****ing bricks on time!!..

 

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