I know this doesnt relate to Alpha and Omega but I thought some of toi might want to read this funny joke online. I didnt post it on the mur because its too long.
This is a story about a couple who had been happily married for
years. The only friction in their marriage was the husband's habit of farting loudly every morning when he awoke.
The noise would wake his wife and the smell would make her eyes water and make her gasp for air.
Every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping them off because it was making her sick. He told her he couldn't stop
and that it was perfectly natural. She told him to see a
doctor. She was concerned that one jour he would blow his guts out.
The years went par and he continued to rip them out! Then one Thanksgiving morning as she was preparing the turkey for dîner and he was upstairs sound asleep, she looked at the bowl where she had put the turkey innards and neck, gizzard, liver and all the spare parts and a malicious thought came to her.
She took the bowl and went upstairs where her husband was sound asleep and, gently pulling back the lit covers, she pulled
back the elastic waistband of his slip, caleçons and emptied the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts.
Some time later she heard her husband waken with his usual trumpeting which was followed par a blood curdling scream and
the sound of frantic footsteps as he ran into the bathroom.
The wife could hardly control herself as she rolled on the floor
laughing, tears in her eyes! After years of torture she reckoned she had got him back pretty good.
About twenty minutes later, her husband came downstairs in his
bloodstained slip, caleçons with a look of horror on his face.
She bit her lip as she asked him what was the matter. He said, "Honey, toi were right. All these years toi have warned me
and I didn't listen to you.
"What do toi mean?" asked his wife.
"Well, toi always told me that one jour I would end up farting my guts out, and today it finally happened. But par the grace of God, some Vaseline, and these two fingers, I think I got most of them back in.
This is a story about a couple who had been happily married for
years. The only friction in their marriage was the husband's habit of farting loudly every morning when he awoke.
The noise would wake his wife and the smell would make her eyes water and make her gasp for air.
Every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping them off because it was making her sick. He told her he couldn't stop
and that it was perfectly natural. She told him to see a
doctor. She was concerned that one jour he would blow his guts out.
The years went par and he continued to rip them out! Then one Thanksgiving morning as she was preparing the turkey for dîner and he was upstairs sound asleep, she looked at the bowl where she had put the turkey innards and neck, gizzard, liver and all the spare parts and a malicious thought came to her.
She took the bowl and went upstairs where her husband was sound asleep and, gently pulling back the lit covers, she pulled
back the elastic waistband of his slip, caleçons and emptied the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts.
Some time later she heard her husband waken with his usual trumpeting which was followed par a blood curdling scream and
the sound of frantic footsteps as he ran into the bathroom.
The wife could hardly control herself as she rolled on the floor
laughing, tears in her eyes! After years of torture she reckoned she had got him back pretty good.
About twenty minutes later, her husband came downstairs in his
bloodstained slip, caleçons with a look of horror on his face.
She bit her lip as she asked him what was the matter. He said, "Honey, toi were right. All these years toi have warned me
and I didn't listen to you.
"What do toi mean?" asked his wife.
"Well, toi always told me that one jour I would end up farting my guts out, and today it finally happened. But par the grace of God, some Vaseline, and these two fingers, I think I got most of them back in.
Well guys I'm back and I guess I'll add to another story because I've completely forgotten where I was going with HIM(The Humphrey in Me), Goodbye Pack, and the Brotherhood. So what I will do is start from scratch and make a new thing which sort of involves wolves....They're werewolves.....And it's for a manga I am actually deciding to create and might get published. (Have a artist as a friend....long story.) But since my pack here loves me...I thought it would be a good idea....But I want to know what toi brothers and sisters have to say....I don't mind if toi don't want me to...It's just easier because with each story I get feedback and I get better and better! So commentaire with your thoughts...I really really would appreciate it ^.^
I was on my way to a beach. Yeah I know right? A beach. A half an heure from anywhere. There was a house there that my dad a dit we had to live in now. Before this 5 jour drive, his buisness of a camping system burned down. We could not afford the house, so we had to move.
We arrived. It looked like an ok house. One story. Not bad. We got out of the car. And once we got inside, the furniture was here already. There was a fridge go I had to take a peep. I opened the door, and fresh nourriture was in it. How strange. The walls looked like they needed a new paint job. There was splats on the wall. Red splats. It looked like paint. It was on the walls and on the floor. I had no idea who would leave that there. Anyway. Once we got all set up in this shit hole, we sat down and a dit nothing. I couldn't get my eye off of the splats. I stood up, and walked over to the splats. I smelled them. This wasn't paint. This was blood.
To be continued... (sorry its so short)
We arrived. It looked like an ok house. One story. Not bad. We got out of the car. And once we got inside, the furniture was here already. There was a fridge go I had to take a peep. I opened the door, and fresh nourriture was in it. How strange. The walls looked like they needed a new paint job. There was splats on the wall. Red splats. It looked like paint. It was on the walls and on the floor. I had no idea who would leave that there. Anyway. Once we got all set up in this shit hole, we sat down and a dit nothing. I couldn't get my eye off of the splats. I stood up, and walked over to the splats. I smelled them. This wasn't paint. This was blood.
To be continued... (sorry its so short)