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Meth Rollins
Jun 24, 2005
My favorite to tell for the last few years.

Our story begins at the Olympics, specifically the wrestling event. It is narrowed down to the Russian or the American for the gold medal.

Before the final match, the American wrestler's trainer came to him and said, "Now don't forget all the research we've done on this Russian. He's never lost a match because of this "pretzel" hold he has. Whatever you do, don't let him get you in this hold! If he does, you're finished!"

The wrestler
nodded in agreement. Now, to the match The American and the Russian circled each other several times looking for an opening. All of a sudden the Russian lunged forward, grabbing the American and wrapping him up in the dreaded pretzel hold! A sigh of disappointment went up from the crowd, and the trainer buried his face in his hands for he knew all was lost. He couldn't watch the ending.

Suddenly there was a scream, a cheer from the crowd, and the trainer raised his eye just in time to see the Russian flying up in the air. The Russian's back hit the mat with a thud, and the American weakly collapsed on top of him, getting the pin and winning the match.

The trainer was astounded! When he finally got the American wrestler alone, he asks, "How did you ever get out of that hold? No one has ever done it before!" The wrestler answered, "Well, I was ready to give up when he got me in that hold, but at the last moment, I opened my eyes and saw this pair of balls right in front of my face.

"I thought I had nothing to lose, so with my last ounce of strength I stretched out my neck and bit those babies just as hard as I could.

"You'd be amazed how strong you get when you bite your own balls!"

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Meth Rollins
Jun 24, 2005

Strunk posted:

I'm too lazy to write out my exact rendition, but this is a ctrl-c of one of my favorites:

A priest decides to take a walk to the pier near his church. He looks around and finally stops to watch a fisherman load his boat. The fisherman notices, and asks the priest if he would like to join him for a couple of hours. The priest agrees.
The fisherman asks if the priest has ever fished before to which the priest says no. He baits the hook for him and says, "Give it a shot father". After a few minutes, the priest hooks a big fish and struggles to get it in the boat. The fisherman says "Whoa, what a big son-of-a-bitch!"

The Priest says, "Uh, please sir, can you mind your language?" The Fisherman responds (THINKING QUICKLY), "I'm sorry Father, but that's what this fish is called - a son-of-a-bitch!"

"Oh, I'm sorry", replied the Priest. "I didn't know." After the trip, the priest brings the fish to the church and spots the Bishop. "Eminence, look at this big son-of-a-bitch!"

"Please Father", said the Bishop. "Mind your language, this is a house of God."

"No, you don't understand", said the Priest. "That's what this fish is called, and I caught it. I caught this son-of-a-bitch!"

"Hmmm", said the Bishop. "You know, I could clean this son-of-a-bitch and we could have it for dinner." So the Bishop takes the fish and cleans it, and brings it to Mother Superior at the convent. "Mother Superior could you cook this son-of-a-bitch for dinner tonight?"

"My lord, what language!", said the Mother Superior.

"No, Sister", said the Bishop. "That's what the fish is called - a son-of-a-bitch! Father caught it, I cleaned it, and we'd like you to cook it."

"Hmmm", replied Mother Superior. "Yes, I'll cook that son-of-a-bitch tonight." Well, the Pope stops by for dinner with the three of them, and they all think the fish is great. He asks where they got it. "I caught the son-of-a-bitch!", said the Priest.

"And I cleaned the son-of-a-bitch!", said the Bishop.

"And I cooked the son-of-a-bitch!", said the Mother Superior.

The Pope stares at them for a minute with a steely gaze, but then takes off his hat, puts his feet up on the table, and says, "You know, you fuckers are alright".

This joke made me laugh for hours as a kid. This is how I learned it and told it for years:

The butcher asks if she'd like to try some drat ham.

The preacher's wife is shocked. The butcher explains that "Dam Ham" is the brand name of the meat and shows her the packaging with the beaver and dam logo.

That night, the preacher asks, "What's for dinner?"

His wife says she bought some drat ham from the butcher. The preacher scolds his wife for using such language in their home. She explains the "Dam Ham brand name and their logo.

At the dinner table, the preacher asks his son to pass him the "Dam Ham."

The son replies, "That's the spirit Daddy. Pass the motherfucking potatoes."

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