Bailey the dog loves the sound of the guitar and actually bops her head to the rhythm of the music. But, when the music stops, her reaction of disapproval will have you laughing out loud!
This Golden loves the guitar.
Bailey’s Chocolate Pudding Shots
Thank you to my dear friend Carrie who introduced me to pudding shots! I’m going to make a bold claim here – Pudding shots are the new Jello shot. Yep, I said it!
If these have not made an appearance at any of your friends’ parties yet, then prepare to become an instant hero among your group. These are imperative for any Girls’ Weekend or Bachelorette Party. St. Patty’s Day anyone?
Ingredients for Bailey’s Chocolate Pudding Shots:
- 1 cup milk
- 1/2 cup Bailey’s Irish cream liqueur
- 1/2 cup vodka
- 1 (4 serving size) package instant chocolate pudding mix
Directions for Bailey’s Chocolate Pudding Shots:
- Whisk together the milk, Irish cream liqueur, vodka, and instant pudding mix in a bowl until combined.
- Continue whisking for 2 minutes.
- Spoon the pudding mixture into shot glasses or other small glasses.
- Chill until set, about 30 minutes. The shots will have the consistency of mousse.
Here are a few “insider” secrets to keep in mind. Try it without the instant pudding, it takes a little longer but the taste is so much better with cook and serve. The key to cook and serve is to make the pudding first on the stove using just 1 cup of milk (also use the large boxes of pudding). Add 1 tub of whipped cream cheese while the pudding is still hot and stir until creamy. Once cool, add the booze and the cool whip! Cherry Pie Filling on top of Vanilla Pudding laced with Godiva White Chocolate Liquore is pretty sinful. Happy partying ladies.
Man Calls Computer Support And The Response Is Hilarious. Tech Guy Nails It!
Microsoft office computer assistance; may I help you?”
“Yes, well, I’m having trouble with Word.”
“What sort of trouble?”
“Well, I was just typing along, and all of a sudden the words went away.”
“Went away?”
“They disappeared.”
“Hmm. So what does your screen look like now?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“It’s blank; it won’t accept anything when I type.”
“Are you still in Word, or did you get out?”
“How do I tell?”
“Can you see the C: prompt on the screen?”
“What’s a sea-prompt?”
“Never mind, can you move your cursor around the screen?”
“There isn’t any cursor: I told you, it won’t accept anything I type.”
“Does your monitor have a power indicator?”
“What’s a monitor?”
“It’s the thing with the screen on it that looks like a TV. Does it have a little light that tells you when it’s on?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, then look on the back of the monitor and find where the power cord goes into it. Can you see that?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Great. Follow the cord to the plug, and tell me if it’s plugged into the wall.”
“Yes, it is.”
“When you were behind the monitor, did you notice that there were two cables plugged into the back of it, not just one?”
“No.”
“Well, there are. I need you to look back there again and find the other cable.”
“Okay, here it is.”
“Follow it for me, and tell me if it’s plugged securely into the back of your computer.”
“I can’t reach.”
“Uh huh. Well, can you see if it is? Even if you maybe put your knee on something and lean way over?”
“Oh, it’s not because I don’t have the right angle, it’s because it’s dark.”
“Dark?”
“Yes – the office light is off, and the only light I have is coming in from the window.”
“Well, turn on the office light then.”
“I can’t.”
“No? Why not?”
“Because there’s a power failure.”
“A power … A power failure? Ah-ha. Right. (long pause) Okay, I think we’ve got it licked now. Do you still have the boxes and manuals and packing stuff your computer came in?”
“Well, yes, I keep them in the closet.”
“Good. Go get them, unplug your system and pack it up just like it was when you got it. Then take it back to the store you bought it from.”
“Really? Is it that bad?”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is.”
“Well, all right then, I suppose. What do I tell them?
“Tell them you’re too stupid to own a computer.”
This Song About Older Ladies Is SO FUNNY That It’s Going VIRAL! I Can’t Stop Laughing!
Older ladies are what? Older ladies are… DIVINE! Not even the grumpiest of the grumpiest can deny that. And to further solidify this point, here’s an incredibly fun video by Donnalou Stevens that will surely have you singing along. This song is absolutely infectious and you’ll definitely agree as soon as you hear it! The world can certainly use more songs like this.
What Color Is Your Anger?
When you’re frustrated, upset or down-right furious, what color are you? Are you a passionate and angry red or a chill, sensitive blue? Let’s discover the true color of your rage!
Check back daily for new quizzes, jokes and fun!
This Guy Thinks He Has A Harmless Weapon. What Happens Next Is Truly Shocking!
Dear Friends,
My wife Toni is fond of saying that my last words on this earth will be something akin to, “hey y’all, hold my beer and watch this!” Well, I have outdone myself once again. No doubt you will see this true story chronicled in a LifeTime movie in the near future. Here goes.
Last weekend I spied something at Larry’s Pistol and Pawn that tickled my fancy. (Note: Keep in mind that my “fancy” is easily tickled). I bought something really cool for Toni. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my sweet girl. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer gun with a clip. For those of you who are not familiar with this product, it is a less-than-lethal stun gun with two metal prongs designed to incapacitate an assailant with a shock of high-voltage, low amperage electricity while you flee to safety. The effects are supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, but allowing you adequate time to retreat to safety. You simply jab the prongs into your 250 lb. tattooed assailant, push the button, and it will render him a slobbering, goggle-eyed, muscle-twitching, whimpering, pencil-neck geek. If you’ve never seen one of these things in action, then you’re truly missing out — 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 so disappointed. Upon reading the directions (we don’t need no stinkin’ directions), I found much to my chagrin that this particular model would not create an arch between the prongs. How disappointing! I do love fire for effect. I learned that if I pushed the button, however, and pressed it against a metal surface that I’d get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs that I was so looking forward to. I did so. Awesome!!! Sparks, a blue arch of electricity, and a loud pop!!!
Yipeeeeee . . I’m easily amused, just for your information, but I have yet to explain to Toni 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, etc., etc. There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not Gracie) and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood 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 kitty, after all. But, if I was going to give this thing to Toni to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? Was I wrong to think that? Seemed reasonable to me at the time. . .
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 one hand, Tazer 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 loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.
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 friggin’ way!”
Friggin’ way — trust me, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best. Those of you who know me well have got a pretty good idea of what followed. I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, “don’t do it buddy,” reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny lil’ ole thing couldn’t hurt all that bad (sound, rational thinking under the circumstances, wouldn’t you agree?). I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the hell of it. (Note: You know, a bad decision is like hindsight—always twenty-twenty. It is so obvious that it was a bad decision after the fact, even though it seemed so right at the time. Don’t ya hate that?)
I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY SH*T!
DAaaaauuuuuuMN!!! I’m pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in through the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, then body slammed me on the carpet over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, nipples on fire, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position. Gracie was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, “do it again, do it again!” (Note: if you ever feel compelled to mug yourself with a Tazer, one note of caution. There is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You’re not going to let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. Then, if you’re lucky, you won’t dislodge one of the prongs 1/4″ deep in your thigh like yours truly.) SON-OF-A-B*TCH that hurt! A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at this point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both titties were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, as my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. give or take an ounce or two, I’m pretty sure.
Needless to say, I’m still in shock…at my stupidity!
Boss Was Having The Worst Day Until His Secretary Offers THIS. What Happens Next Is Priceless.
Last week was my 40th birthday and I really didn’t feel like waking up that morning. I managed to pull myself together and go downstairs for breakfast, hoping my wife would be pleasant and say, “Happy Birthday!”, and possibly have a small present for me. As it turned out, she barely said good morning, let alone “Happy Birthday.” I thought… Well, that’s marriage for you, but the kids… They will remember.
My kids came trampling down the stairs to breakfast, ate their breakfast, and didn’t say a word to me. So when I made it out of the house and started for work, I felt pretty dumpy and despondent.
As I walked into my office, my secretary Joanne said, “Good Morning Boss, and by the way Happy Birthday!” It felt a bit better knowing that at least someone remembered. I worked in a zombie-like fashion until about one o’clock, when Joanne knocked on my door and said, “You know, it’s such a beautiful day outside and it’s your birthday, why don’t we go out for lunch, just you and me.” I said, “Thanks, Joanne, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Let’s go!”
We went to lunch but not where we’d normally go. Instead she took me to a quiet bistro with a private table. We had a couple of mixed drinks and I enjoyed the meal tremendously. On the way back to the office, Joanne said, “You know, It’s such a beautiful day…we don’t have to go right back to the office, do we?” I replied with “I suppose not. What do you have in mind?” She said, “Let’s go to my apartment, it’s just around the corner.”
After arriving at her apartment, Joanne turned to me and said, “Boss if you don’t mind, I’m gonna to step into the bedroom for just a moment. I’ll be right back.” “Ok.” I nervously replied. She went into the bedroom and, after a couple of minutes, she came out carrying a huge birthday cake…
Followed by my wife, my kids, and dozens of my friends, and co-workers, all singing “Happy Birthday”.
And I just sat there…
On the couch…
Naked.
Which Nickname is Perfect For You?
So what should we call you from now on? Maybe you’ll be Sugar Lips, Pumpkin or Queen B…find out which nickname is perfect for you!
Check back daily for new quizzes, jokes and fun!
You Will Laugh Uncontrollably When You Hear Why She NEVER Sends Her Husband To The Store
She needed to make a cake and her husband volunteered to go grocery shopping. What he came home with had everyone in the audience cracking up with laughter.
Jeanne Robertson’s clean, old-fashioned humor is a pure delight. She is hilarious!
Man Never Saw This Until…Bam, It Hit Him Like A Ton Of Bricks. This Is Priceless.
$5.37!
That’s what the kid behind the counter at Taco Bell said to me.
I dug into my pocket and pulled out some lint and two dimes and something that used to be a Jolly Rancher.
Having already handed the kid a five-spot, I started to head back out to the truck to grab some change when the kid with the Elmo hairdo said the hardest thing anyone has ever said to me.
He said, “It’s OK. I’ll just give you the senior citizen discount.”
I turned to see who he was talking to and then heard the sound of change hitting the counter in front of me.
“Only $4.68” he said cheerfully. I stood there stupefied. I am 60, not even 65 yet? A mere child! Senior citizen?
I took my burrito and walked out to the truck wondering what was wrong with Elmo.
Was he blind?
As I sat in the truck, my blood began to boil.
Old? Me?
I’ll show him, I thought. I opened the door and headed back inside. I strode to the counter, and there he was waiting with a smile.
Before I could say a word, he held up something and jingled it in front of me, like I could be that easily distracted!
What am I now? A toddler?
“Dude! Can’t get too far without your car keys, eh?”
I stared with utter disdain at the keys. I began to rationalize in my mind! “Leaving keys behind hardly makes a man elderly! It could happen to anyone!” I turned and headed back to the truck.
I slipped the key into the ignition, but it wouldn’t turn.
What now? I checked my keys and tried another. Still nothing. That’s when I noticed the purple beads hanging from my rear view mirror. I had no purple beads hanging from my rear view mirror. Then, a few other objects came into focus: The car seat in the back seat.
Happy Meal toys spread all over the floorboard. A partially eaten doughnut on the dashboard. Faster than you can say ginkgo biloba, I flew out of the alien vehicle.
Moments later I was speeding out of the parking lot, relieved to finally be leaving this nightmarish stop in my life. That is when I
felt it, deep in the bowels of my stomach: hunger!
My stomach growled and churned, and I reached to grab my burrito, only it was nowhere to be found.
I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and strode back into the restaurant one final time. There Elmo stood, draped in youth and black nail polish. All I could think was,”What is the world coming to?”
All I could say was, “Did I leave my food and drink in here”?
At this point I was ready to ask a Boy Scout to help me back to my vehicle, and then go straight home and apply for Social Security benefits.
Elmo had no clue.
I walked back out to the truck, and suddenly a young lad came up and tugged on my jeans to get my attention.
He was holding up a drink and a bag.
His mother explained, “I think you left this in my truck by mistake.”
I took the food and drink from the little boy and sheepishly apologized.
She offered these kind words: “It’s OK. My grandfather does stuff like this all the time.”
All of this is to explain how I got a ticket doing 85 in a 40 mph zone. Yessss, I was racing some punk kid in a Toyota Prius. And no, I told the officer, I’m not too old to be driving this fast.
As I walked in the front door, my wife met me halfway down the hall. I handed her a bag of cold food and a $300 speeding ticket. I promptly sat in my rocking chair and covered up my legs with a blankey.
The good news was that I had successfully found my way home. Pass this on to the other “old fogies” on your list (so they can have fun laughing, too).
She Convinces Her Grandson To Learn THIS In School, And Leaves The Crowd Cheering
By convincing her grandson why he needs to learn cursive, she has the whole audience in stitches. This is too funny!
Jeanne Robertson is a professional speaker specializing in stand-up comedy centering around her experiences. She loves to laugh and joke about life’s crazy moments.
Most People Don’t Realize This Is Happening To Schools. This Guy Nails It.
Last week I purchased a burger at Burger King for $1.58.
The counter girl took my $2 and I was digging for my change when I pulled 8 cents from my pocket and gave it to her. She stood there, holding the nickel and 3 pennies, while looking at the screen on her register. I sensed her discomfort and tried to tell her to just give me two quarters, but she hailed the manager for help.
Why do I tell you this?
Because of the evolution in teaching math since the 1950s:
1. Teaching Math In 1950s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price. What is his profit ?
2. Teaching Math In 1960s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price, or $80. What is his profit?
3. Teaching Math In 1970s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80. Did he make a profit?
4. Teaching Math In 1980s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80 and his profit is $20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20
5. Teaching Math In 1990s
A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the preservation of our woodlands. He does this so he can make a profit of $20. What do you think of this way of making a living?
Topic for class participation after answering the question: How did the birds and squirrels feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers, and if you feel like crying, it’s okay.)
6. Teaching Math In 2000s
If you have special needs or just feel you need assistance because of race,color religion, sex, sexual orientation, age, childhood memories, criminal background, then don’t answer and the correct answer will be provided for you. There are no wrong answers.
7. Teaching Math In 2015
Who cares, just steal the lumber from your rich neighbor’s property. He won’t have a gun to stop you, and the government says it’s OK anyway cuz it’s redistributing the wealth.