Two catholic priests are driving down the road together one day when they get pulled over. They stop the car at the side of the road and wait patiently for the cop, who eventually gets out of his car and walks over to the peiest's car.
The priest in the driver's seat rolls down the window and says, "Problem, officer?"
"Sorry to bother you, Father, but we're trying to find two child molesters," the cop replies.
The driver says, "Just a moment officer," and leans over to speak to the priest in the passenger seat. They whisper back and forth for a moment before the driver leans back, looks at the cop and says, "Okay, we'll do it."
Two catholic priests are driving down the road together one day when they get pulled over. They stop the car at the side of the road and wait patiently for the cop, who eventually gets out of his car and walks over to the peiest's car.
The priest in the driver's seat rolls down the window and says, "Problem, officer?"
"Sorry to bother you, Father, but we're trying to find two child molesters," the cop replies.
The driver says, "Just a moment officer," and leans over to speak to the priest in the passenger seat. They whisper back and forth for a moment before the driver leans back, looks at the cop and says, "Okay, we'll do it."
Two catholic priests are driving down the road together one day when they get pulled over. They stop the car at the side of the road and wait patiently for the cop, who eventually gets out of his car and walks over to the peiest's car.
The priest in the driver's seat rolls down the window and says, "Problem, officer?"
"Sorry to bother you, Father, but we're trying to find two child molesters," the cop replies.
The driver says, "Just a moment officer," and leans over to speak to the priest in the passenger seat. They whisper back and forth for a moment before the driver leans back, looks at the cop and says, "Okay, we'll do it."
Yeah I saw that one on Reddit earlier too.
Sorry.
darleysam on
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NocrenLt Futz, Back in ActionNorth CarolinaRegistered Userregular
I guess I dined a few too many times at the local Chinese buffet.
They're changing to a Vietnamese restaurant, and here's their new name.
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PiptheFairFrequently not in boats.Registered Userregular
theres a viet joint down the road from me named Bich Nga
and I always feel super bad anglicizing it in my head
knitdanIn ur baseKillin ur guysRegistered Userregular
I've always wondered, with names like Nguyen which come from non-European cultures, why don't they spell the names phonetically when they are transcribed into the Roman alphabet?
“I was quick when I came in here, I’m twice as quick now”
-Indiana Solo, runner of blades
I believe the "Ng" part is there to tell you to put a nasal tone on the "uy" part
It is supposed to represent a transcription of the proper sound. Most westerners don't read it that way though
The Chinese -> English thing of X = sh and Q = ch is more because whoever came up with that wanted the written words to look more foreign and it kinda stuck
So a guy walks into a bar one day and he can’t believe his eyes. There, in the corner, there’s this one-foot-tall man, in a little tuxedo, playing a tiny grand piano.
So the guy asks the bartender, “Where’d he come from?”
And the bartender’s, like, “There’s a genie in the men’s room who grants wishes.”
So the guy runs into the men’s room and, sure enough, there’s this genie. And the genie’s, like, “Your wish is my command.” So the guy’s, like, “O.K., I wish for world peace.” And there’s this big cloud of smoke—and then the room fills up with geese.
So the guy walks out of the men’s room and he’s, like, “Hey, bartender, I think your genie might be hard of hearing.”
And the bartender’s, like, “No kidding. You think I wished for a twelve-inch pianist?”
So the guy processes this. And he’s, like, “Does that mean you wished for a twelve-inch penis?”
And the bartender’s, like, “Yeah. Why, what did you wish for?”
And the guy’s, like, “World peace.”
So the bartender is understandably ashamed.
And the guy orders a beer, like everything is normal, but it’s obvious that something has changed between him and the bartender.
And the bartender’s, like, “I feel like I should explain myself further.”
And the guy’s, like, “You don’t have to.”
But the bartender continues, in a hushed tone. And he’s, like, “I have what’s known as penile dysmorphic disorder. Basically, what that means is I fixate on my size. It’s not that I’m small down there. I’m actually within the normal range. Whenever I see it, though, I feel inadequate.”
And the guy feels sorry for him. So he’s, like, “Where do you think that comes from?”
And the bartender’s, like, “I don’t know. My dad and I had a tense relationship. He used to cheat on my mom, and I knew it was going on, but I didn’t tell her. I think it’s wrapped up in that somehow.”
And the guy’s, like, “Have you ever seen anyone about this?”
And the bartender’s, like, “Oh, yeah, I started seeing a therapist four years ago. But she says we’ve barely scratched the surface.”
So, at around this point, the twelve-inch pianist finishes up his sonata. And he walks over to the bar and climbs onto one of the stools. And he’s, like, “Listen, I couldn’t help but overhear the end of your conversation. I never told anyone this before, but my dad and I didn’t speak the last ten years of his life.”
And the bartender’s, like, “Tell me more about that.” And he pours the pianist a tiny glass of whiskey.
And the twelve-inch pianist is, like, “He was a total monster. Beat us all. Told me once I was an accident.”
And the bartender’s, like, “That’s horrible.”
And the twelve-inch pianist shrugs. And he’s, like, “You know what? I’m over it. He always said I wouldn’t amount to anything, because of my height? Well, now look at me. I’m a professional musician!”
And the pianist starts to laugh, but it’s a forced kind of laughter, and you can see the pain behind it. And then he’s, like, “When he was in the hospital, he had one of the nurses call me. I was going to go see him. Bought a plane ticket and everything. But before I could make it back to Tampa . . .”
And then he starts to cry. And he’s, like, “I just wish I’d had a chance to say goodbye to my old man.”
And all of a sudden there’s this big cloud of smoke—and a beat-up Plymouth Voyager appears!
And the pianist is, like, “I said ‘old man,’ not ‘old van’!”
And everybody laughs. And the pianist is, like, “Your genie’s hard of hearing.”
And the bartender says, “No kidding. You think I wished for a twelve-inch pianist?”
And as soon as the words leave his lips he regrets them. Because the pianist is, like, “Oh, my God. You didn’t really want me.”
And the bartender’s, like, “No, it’s not like that.” You know, trying to backpedal.
And the pianist smiles ruefully and says, “Once an accident, always an accident.” And he drinks all of his whiskey.
And the bartender’s, like, “Brian, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
And the pianist smashes his whiskey glass against the wall and says, “Well, I didn’t mean that.”
And the bartender’s, like, “Whoa, calm down.”
And the pianist is, like, “Fuck you!” And he’s really drunk, because he’s only one foot tall and so his tolerance for alcohol is extremely low. And he’s, like, “Fuck you, asshole! Fuck you!”
And he starts throwing punches, but he’s too small to do any real damage, and eventually he just collapses in the bartender’s arms.
And suddenly he has this revelation. And he’s, like, “My God, I’m just like him. I’m just like him.” And he starts weeping.
And the bartender’s, like, “No, you’re not. You’re better than he was.”
And the pianist is, like, “That’s not true. I’m worthless!”
And the bartender grabs the pianist by the shoulders and says, “Damn it, Brian, listen to me! My life was hell before you entered it. Now I look forward to every day. You’re so talented and kind and you light up this whole bar. Hell, you light up my whole life. If I had a second wish, you know what it would be? It would be for you to realize how beautiful you are.”
And the bartender kisses the pianist on the lips.
So the guy, who’s been watching all this, is surprised, because he didn’t know the bartender was gay. It doesn’t bother him; it just catches him off guard, you know? So he goes to the bathroom, to give them a little privacy. And there’s the genie.
So the guy’s, like, “Hey, genie, you need to get your ears fixed.”
And the genie’s, like, “Who says they’re broken?” And he opens the door, revealing the happy couple, who are kissing and gaining strength from each other.
And the guy’s, like, “Well done.”
And then the genie says, “That bartender’s tiny penis is going to seem huge from the perspective of his one-foot-tall boyfriend.”
And the graphic nature of the comment kind of kills the moment.
And the genie’s, like, “I’m sorry. I should’ve left that part unsaid. I always do that. I take things too far.”
And the guy’s, like, “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just grab a beer. It’s on me.”
I remember when seeing the Watchmen film, it gets to the end, where they're talking about how everyone's freaked out about Doc Manhattan apparently
going renegade and blowing up cities and shit, and how the world governments are sorting their shit out of fear, and one of them is like "But he's not really here anymore, he can't watch what's going on."
"Yeah, but the important thing is that they THINK he's watching them."
And I couldn't help myself, and mock whispered to my buddy, "I THINK THEY"RE TALKING ABOUT JESUS"
I remember when seeing the Watchmen film, it gets to the end, where they're talking about how everyone's freaked out about Doc Manhattan apparently
going renegade and blowing up cities and shit, and how the world governments are sorting their shit out of fear, and one of them is like "But he's not really here anymore, he can't watch what's going on."
"Yeah, but the important thing is that they THINK he's watching them."
And I couldn't help myself, and mock whispered to my buddy, "I THINK THEY"RE TALKING ABOUT JESUS"
Not like Ozymandias didn't still have a super weapon that could strike anything on the planet with impunity.
At least with psychic squid ending it was more of a one shot deal.
First time I encountered that last name in the Navy,
"You got a LOT of silent letters in there...."
One of the guys on my AAV crew was Vietnamese; his parents came over right around the fall of Saigon and they didn't know much English so they named him the only American name they knew other than 'Joe.'
First time I encountered that last name in the Navy,
"You got a LOT of silent letters in there...."
One of the guys on my AAV crew was Vietnamese; his parents came over right around the fall of Saigon and they didn't know much English so they named him the only American name they knew other than 'Joe.'
Posts
I am stealing this and you can't stop me.
Yeah I saw that one on Reddit earlier too.
God'll admit he's not a fighter pilot
'Thanks, I'll never part with it!'
Switch Friend Code: SW-1406-1275-7906
And I don't think reinforcing negative stereotypes about Jews is a good idea either.
-Indiana Solo, runner of blades
Wendigo?
Last month.
give me your badge and your gun, you're off this joke
I've never liked those.
They're just so full of themselves, you know?
Dean's been gone for a month? Must've got in trouble. Grab your gun, Sammy, we've got a rescue mission.
edit: I should state, I did not mean to sound like a massive asshole in this other post here:
Sorry.
They're changing to a Vietnamese restaurant, and here's their new name.
and I always feel super bad anglicizing it in my head
That has to be on purpose, right?
doubtful
theres a fairly sizable viet immigrant population here
Oh, really?
No, O'Reilly.
Because my brain is obviously mispronouncing that, can you tell my how it's supposed to be pronounced, Pip?
yeah, pretty much
at least as far as my incredibly limited knowledge of viet
"You got a LOT of silent letters in there...."
That's only sometimes accurate. Nguyen has a loooot of different pronunciations, even within the same country of origin.
-Indiana Solo, runner of blades
It is supposed to represent a transcription of the proper sound. Most westerners don't read it that way though
The Chinese -> English thing of X = sh and Q = ch is more because whoever came up with that wanted the written words to look more foreign and it kinda stuck
I'm not sure where you live but I have definitely heard people of several Asian immigrant groups throw around terms like that.
Did you just make a goddamned MASH joke?
What's the matter? Do you prefer your potatoes twice-baked?
When will the killing end...
This isn't a war, it's a moidah.
Steam: TimIsOnSteam
Battle.net: TimIsOnBnet#1745
Switch: SW-7012-4788-7410
PSN: TimIsOnTheNet
So a guy walks into a bar one day and he can’t believe his eyes. There, in the corner, there’s this one-foot-tall man, in a little tuxedo, playing a tiny grand piano.
So the guy asks the bartender, “Where’d he come from?”
And the bartender’s, like, “There’s a genie in the men’s room who grants wishes.”
So the guy runs into the men’s room and, sure enough, there’s this genie. And the genie’s, like, “Your wish is my command.” So the guy’s, like, “O.K., I wish for world peace.” And there’s this big cloud of smoke—and then the room fills up with geese.
So the guy walks out of the men’s room and he’s, like, “Hey, bartender, I think your genie might be hard of hearing.”
And the bartender’s, like, “No kidding. You think I wished for a twelve-inch pianist?”
And the bartender’s, like, “Yeah. Why, what did you wish for?”
And the guy’s, like, “World peace.”
So the bartender is understandably ashamed.
And the guy orders a beer, like everything is normal, but it’s obvious that something has changed between him and the bartender.
And the bartender’s, like, “I feel like I should explain myself further.”
And the guy’s, like, “You don’t have to.”
But the bartender continues, in a hushed tone. And he’s, like, “I have what’s known as penile dysmorphic disorder. Basically, what that means is I fixate on my size. It’s not that I’m small down there. I’m actually within the normal range. Whenever I see it, though, I feel inadequate.”
And the guy feels sorry for him. So he’s, like, “Where do you think that comes from?”
And the bartender’s, like, “I don’t know. My dad and I had a tense relationship. He used to cheat on my mom, and I knew it was going on, but I didn’t tell her. I think it’s wrapped up in that somehow.”
And the guy’s, like, “Have you ever seen anyone about this?”
And the bartender’s, like, “Oh, yeah, I started seeing a therapist four years ago. But she says we’ve barely scratched the surface.”
So, at around this point, the twelve-inch pianist finishes up his sonata. And he walks over to the bar and climbs onto one of the stools. And he’s, like, “Listen, I couldn’t help but overhear the end of your conversation. I never told anyone this before, but my dad and I didn’t speak the last ten years of his life.”
And the bartender’s, like, “Tell me more about that.” And he pours the pianist a tiny glass of whiskey.
And the twelve-inch pianist is, like, “He was a total monster. Beat us all. Told me once I was an accident.”
And the bartender’s, like, “That’s horrible.”
And the twelve-inch pianist shrugs. And he’s, like, “You know what? I’m over it. He always said I wouldn’t amount to anything, because of my height? Well, now look at me. I’m a professional musician!”
And the pianist starts to laugh, but it’s a forced kind of laughter, and you can see the pain behind it. And then he’s, like, “When he was in the hospital, he had one of the nurses call me. I was going to go see him. Bought a plane ticket and everything. But before I could make it back to Tampa . . .”
And then he starts to cry. And he’s, like, “I just wish I’d had a chance to say goodbye to my old man.”
And all of a sudden there’s this big cloud of smoke—and a beat-up Plymouth Voyager appears!
And the pianist is, like, “I said ‘old man,’ not ‘old van’!”
And everybody laughs. And the pianist is, like, “Your genie’s hard of hearing.”
And the bartender says, “No kidding. You think I wished for a twelve-inch pianist?”
And as soon as the words leave his lips he regrets them. Because the pianist is, like, “Oh, my God. You didn’t really want me.”
And the bartender’s, like, “No, it’s not like that.” You know, trying to backpedal.
And the pianist smiles ruefully and says, “Once an accident, always an accident.” And he drinks all of his whiskey.
And the bartender’s, like, “Brian, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
And the pianist smashes his whiskey glass against the wall and says, “Well, I didn’t mean that.”
And the bartender’s, like, “Whoa, calm down.”
And the pianist is, like, “Fuck you!” And he’s really drunk, because he’s only one foot tall and so his tolerance for alcohol is extremely low. And he’s, like, “Fuck you, asshole! Fuck you!”
And he starts throwing punches, but he’s too small to do any real damage, and eventually he just collapses in the bartender’s arms.
And suddenly he has this revelation. And he’s, like, “My God, I’m just like him. I’m just like him.” And he starts weeping.
And the bartender’s, like, “No, you’re not. You’re better than he was.”
And the pianist is, like, “That’s not true. I’m worthless!”
And the bartender grabs the pianist by the shoulders and says, “Damn it, Brian, listen to me! My life was hell before you entered it. Now I look forward to every day. You’re so talented and kind and you light up this whole bar. Hell, you light up my whole life. If I had a second wish, you know what it would be? It would be for you to realize how beautiful you are.”
And the bartender kisses the pianist on the lips.
So the guy, who’s been watching all this, is surprised, because he didn’t know the bartender was gay. It doesn’t bother him; it just catches him off guard, you know? So he goes to the bathroom, to give them a little privacy. And there’s the genie.
So the guy’s, like, “Hey, genie, you need to get your ears fixed.”
And the genie’s, like, “Who says they’re broken?” And he opens the door, revealing the happy couple, who are kissing and gaining strength from each other.
And the guy’s, like, “Well done.”
And then the genie says, “That bartender’s tiny penis is going to seem huge from the perspective of his one-foot-tall boyfriend.”
And the graphic nature of the comment kind of kills the moment.
And the genie’s, like, “I’m sorry. I should’ve left that part unsaid. I always do that. I take things too far.”
And the guy’s, like, “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just grab a beer. It’s on me.”
Get that shit out of here
"Yeah, but the important thing is that they THINK he's watching them."
And I couldn't help myself, and mock whispered to my buddy, "I THINK THEY"RE TALKING ABOUT JESUS"
Not like Ozymandias didn't still have a super weapon that could strike anything on the planet with impunity.
At least with psychic squid ending it was more of a one shot deal.
One of the guys on my AAV crew was Vietnamese; his parents came over right around the fall of Saigon and they didn't know much English so they named him the only American name they knew other than 'Joe.'
Holy shit!
I consider myself a pragmatist. In fact, I fucking hate pragmats.
I think I’ve managed to cure my premature ejaculation, but for a while there it was touch and go.
Did you know: due to the proliferation of Kenny Loggins in the 80s, Kenny forests have all but died out in the US.
On Monday I attending my first class in binary, ‘Binary 101'. Turned out I missed the first four lessons.
Yesterday I had a urine test for LSD. I passed with flying colours.
I heard someone on the bus call me an egomaniac. They didn't mention me by name, but I knew it was me they were talking about.
The premature ejaculation joke is fantastic, but this Loggins joke is in the