20 Things You’ll Never Hear A Man Say.

Here’s 20 things you’ll never hear a man say, and of course, these are just for starters! 

Things You'll Never Hear a Man Say

Via: tickld.com

12 Things Men Do Differently Than Women.

Men and women are vastly different creatures. That is never going to change. Proof of that is these 12 things that men and women will always do differently.

 

12 Things Men Do Differently Than Women.

 

12thingsmenpic 12-things-men-and-women-will-always-do-differently3

 

Via: brobible.com, tickld.com, & shutterstock.com

12 Things Men Do Differently To Women

Men and women will always do things differently…

Differences-Between-Men-and-Womenboo

NICKNAMES

-If Laura, Kate and Sarah go out for lunch, they will call each other Laura, Kate and Sarah.

-If Mike, Dave and John go out, they will affectionately refer to each other as Fat Boy, Dickhead and Shit for Brains.


EATING OUT

-When the bill arrives, Mike, Dave and John will each throw in $20, even though it’s only for $32.50. None of them will have anything smaller and none will actually admit they want change back.

-When the girls get their bill, out come the pocket calculators.


MONEY

-A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he needs.

-A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn’t need, but is on sale.


BATHROOMS

-A man has six items in his bathroom: toothbrush, toothpaste, razor, shampoo, soap and a towel.

-The average number of items in the typical woman’s bathroom is 337. A man would not be able to identify more than 20 of these items.


ARGUMENTS

-A woman has the last word in any argument.

-Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.


FUTURE

-A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.

-A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.


SUCCESS

-A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.

-A successful woman is one who can find such a man.


MARRIAGE

-A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn’t.

-A man marries a woman expecting that she won’t change, but she does.


DRESSING UP

-A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, empty the trash, answer the phone, read a book, and get the mail.

-A man will dress up for weddings and funerals.


NATURAL

-Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed.

-Women somehow deteriorate during the night.


OFFSPRING

-A woman knows all about her children. She knows about dentist appointments and romances, best friends favorite foods, secret fears and hopes and dreams.

-A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.


THOUGHT OF THE DAY

A married man should forget his mistakes. There’s no use in two people remembering the same thing.

Via: tickld

 

Who Says Men Don’t Remember?

Whoever said men don’t remember may be very wrong. Although judging by this funny little article, I truly believe that men who answer like this will NEVER forget the saying…”and THAT’S how the fight started”!

 

men-remembering men-remember boo

Via: themetapicture.com

 

Naughty Vaseline Joke

This naughty Vaseline joke has a punchline I sure wasn’t expecting!  LOL

A man escapes from a prison where he’s been locked up for 15 years. 

He breaks into a house and Inside, he finds a young couple in bed.

He ties him to a chair. While tying the wife to the bed, the convict gets on top of her, kisses her neck, then gets up and goes into the bathroom.

While he’s in there, the husband whispers over to his wife:
“Listen, this guy is an escaped convict.  Look at his clothes!  He’s probably spent a lot of time in jail and hasn’t seen a woman in years.

I saw how he kissed your neck.  If he wants sex, don’t resist, don’t complain.  Do whatever he tells you.  Satisfy him no matter how much he nauseates you.  This guy is obviously very dangerous.  If he gets angry, he’ll kill us both. Be strong, honey.  I love you!”

She responds: “He wasn’t kissing my neck.  He was whispering in my ear.  He told me that he’s gay, thinks you’re cute, and asked if we had any Vaseline.  I told him it was in the bathroom.  Be strong honey.  I love you, too.”

vaseline-Source: attitude.blogspot

 

Fart Your Guts Out

Herman and Martha were happily married for nearly forty years. The only friction in their marriage was caused by the husband’s habit of breaking wind nearly every morning as he awoke. The noise would always wake up Martha and the smell would cause her eyes to water as she would choke and gasp for air. Nearly every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping one in the morning. Herman told her that he couldn’t help it.

She begged him to visit a doctor to see if anything could be done, but the husband wouldn’t hear of it. He told her that it was just a natural bodily function, and then he would laugh in her face as she tried to wave the fumes away with her hands. She told him that there was nothing natural about it and if he didn’t stop, he was one day going to “fart his guts out.”

The years went by and Martha continued to suffer and Herman continued to ignore her warnings about “farting his guts out” until one Christmas morning.

Before dawn, Martha went downstairs to prepare the family feast. She fixed Christmas pudding, mashed potatoes, gravy and of course a turkey. While she was taking out the turkeys innards, a thought occurred to the wife as to how she might solve her husband’s problem.

With a devilish grin on her face, she placed the turkey guts into a bowl and quietly walked upstairs hours before her flatulent husband would awake. While he was still soundly asleep, she pulled back the covers and then gently pulled back her husband’s jockey shorts. She then placed all of the turkey guts into her husband’s underwear, pulled them up, replaced the covers and tiptoed back downstairs to finish preparing the family meal.

Several hours later she heard Herman awake with his normal loud ass trumpeting. This was soon followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic footsteps as her husband ran to the upstairs bathroom. Martha could not control herself and her eyes began to tear up as she rolled on the floor laughing. After years of putting up with him she had finally gotten even.

About twenty minutes later, Herman came downstairs in his blood stained underpants with a look of horror in his eyes. She bit her lip to keep from laughing and she asked him what was the matter.

“Honey,” he said. “You were right – all those years you warned me and I didn’t listen to you.”

“What do you mean?” asked Martha.

“Well, you always told me that I would end up farting my guts out one of these days and today it finally happened. But by the grace of God and these two fingers, I think I got them all back in.

fartjoke

Source: funny

 

“The Pocket Taser ~ A Stun Gun Story”

“The Pocket Taser ~ A Stun Gun Story”

The Pocket Taser is one of the funniest stories of a man who finds out what NOT to ever give his wife as a present for their anniversary!

pocket taser stun gun

 

Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety. WAY TOO COOL!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.

I loaded two triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I’d get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.

AWESOME!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave!

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn’t be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right?!

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong???

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in on hand, and taser in another.

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would reportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.

Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries? All the while I’m looking at this little device measuring about 5′ long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, ‘no possible way!’??

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best…

I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, ‘don’t do it dummy,’ reasoning that a one- second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn’t hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button and…

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION!!!

I’m pretty sure Hulk Hogan ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, and then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs! The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, ‘Do it again, stupid, do it again!’

Note: If you ever feel compelled to ‘mug’ yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three-second burst would be considered conservative.

A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they get up there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.

P. S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!

If you think Education is difficult, try being stupid!

P.P.S. Never try this at home!!

Source: hubpages.com

 

“The Waxing”…A Story Sure To Make You Laugh Till You Cry!

“The Waxing”…A Story Sure To Make You Laugh Till You Cry! Better get the tissues ready and make sure you’re reading this one somewhere where you can let out a BIG LAUGH! 

“The Waxing!” A Story Every Woman Should Read…

All hair removal methods have tricked us with their promises of easy, painless removal. The epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now…. The Wax!!

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, and play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: “Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet.” So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom.
It was one of those “cold wax” kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off.
No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I’m not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out.
(YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. (Cold wax, “yeah… Right!”)
I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull.
It works!
Ok, so it wasn’t the best feeling, but it wasn’t too bad.
I can do this!
Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.
With me next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship.
I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the one strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my *hoo-hoo* and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek.
(Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself… RRRRIIIPPP!
I’m blind! Blinded from pain!… OH MY GOD!
Vision returning, I notice that I’ve only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP!
Another deep breathe and RRIIPP!
Everything is swirly and spotted.
I think I may pass out… Must stay conscious…
Do I hear crashing drums?
Breathe, breathe…
OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy- a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it.
I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip! There’s no hair on it.
Where is the hair? WHERE IS THE WAX?
Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet.
I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip.
I touch. I am touching wax.
CRAP!
I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.
Then I make the next BIG mistake… Remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet?
I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.
DANG!
I hear the slamming of a cell door.
“hoo-hoo”? Sealed shut!
Butt? Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself “Please don’t let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!”
What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water! Hot water melts wax!
I’ll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right?
WRONG!
I get in the tub- the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment- I sit.
Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub… In scalding hot water. This, by the way, doesn’t melt cold wax.
So, now I’m stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!
God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!
I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and have some secret of how to get me undone. It’s a very good conversation starter- “So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!”
There is a slight pause. She doesn’t know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, “Are we talking cheeks or who-ha?”
She’s laughing out loud by now… I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH! RIGHT!! I should be the joke of someone else’s night.
While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super-hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!
By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I’m pretty sure I’m going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace… The lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point?
I rub some on and OH MY GOD!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend.
It’s so painful, but I really don’t care.
“IT WORKS! It works!”
I get hearty congratulations from my friend and she hangs up.
I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair… THE HAIR IS STILL THERE… ALL OF IT!
So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I’m numb by now. Nothing hurts.
I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

Next week I’m going to try hair color…. Now that’s funny…… NOT!!!!

 

SOURCE: matchdoctor.com