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my boyfriend Ernie

Andreus

JUB 10k Club
In Loving Memory
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last night i was in bed with my boyfriend ernie

and he said to me soph

he always calls me soph

he says to me soph, you got no tits and a tight box

I says to him

ernie?

get off my back
............................



I Will Never...
soph2a.jpg
Forget It You Know
................................................

last night my borfriend ernie says to me

soph

he always calls me soph

he says

soph when I am eighty years old i am going to get myself a 20 year old girlfriend

what do you think of that?

and i says to him

ernie?

when i am eighty years old I am going to get myself a 20 year old boyfriend

and let me tell you something ernie

20 goes into eighty a hell of alot more

than 80 goes into twenty

thank you

thank you

kiss my tuckus and plant a tree for Israel
 
I will never forget it you know.

It was on the occasion of my eightieth birthday.

My boyfriend Ernie bought for me a tombstone,

and on that tombstone he inscribed:

HERE LIES SOPH. COLD AS USUAL.

Not being one to take that kind of thing lying down,

I went out and bought Ernie a tombstone,

and on that tombstone I had inscribed:

HERE LIES ERNIE--STIFF AT LAST!
 
Stealing from the Divine Miss M, are we???

What about The TV minister?

What about Clementine and the laundry-hanging secret?

What about Clementine and the motorcyclist?
 
Stealing from the Divine Miss M, are we???

What about The TV minister?

What about Clementine and the laundry-hanging secret?

What about Clementine and the motorcyclist?

haha

not really stealing if her picture is right there in the middle

well give up your favorite bette midler sophie tucker joke then...;)
 
I must have caught you in between posts - I didn't see her picture.

Here goes:

I will never forget it you know... I was hangin' out my laundry the other day, minding my own goddamn business, when my girlfriend Clemintine leaned over the picket fence.

She said to me, "Soph, how come you always know when to hang out your laundry, and don't get stuck in the rain like the rest of us do?" I said to her, "Clemintine, it's a perfectly simple disposition. When I wake up in the morning the first thing I do is roll over and look at my boyfriend Ernie. If it's laying on the right, I know it's going to be a sunny day. If it's laying on the left, I know it's gonna rain."

Clemintine said to me, "Soph, suppose it's standing straight up in the middle?" I said to her, "Clemintine, who the hell wants to do laundry on a day like that anyway?"


I will never forget it you know, my girlfriend Clemintine in the height of her profession was a great great stripper, but she hated it so violently that she would have to run to confession in between shows. One day she completely forgot to put her shirt back on and she went into the church, nipples to the wind. A young priest stopped her and said, "Madam you cannot come into the House of the Lord in that fashion." "But I have a divine right," Clemintine said. "Your left's not bad either, bad but you gotta cover your head," the priest said. Well, after confessoin Clementine was walking back and she slipped on a banana peel, her dress got caught on a nail then completely unraveled as she fell down a flight of stairs. There she lay, quite, quite naked and quite comatose. A passing motorcyclist took pity upon her plight and put his crash helmet over her exposed groin. Then the doctor came and took a long look at her and said "We'll put her in the ambulance, but first we gotta get that cop outta there!"


I will never forget it you know. Doorbell rang the other day, answered the door and there was a delivery boy there with two dozen roses. I grabbed the card I opened it, it said "Love, from your boyfriend Ernie"

I was having tea with my girlfriend Clementine. I said "Clementine, do you know what this means? For the next two weeks I'm gonna be flat on my back with my legs wide open." Clemintine says to me "What's the matter, ain't you got a vase?"



"A faith healer was on the radio and he said 'Place one hand upon the part of your body that is diseased and the other hand upon the radio.' I placed mine over my heart. My boyfriend Ernie, he placed one hand on the radio and the other hand on his private parts. 'Ernie,' I said. 'The man said he could heal the sick, not raise the dead.'
 
:=D: Well, this is the thread of the day! Thanks to both of you!! And yes, the divine one is blasting forth from my CD player right now!!
 
What is amazing is that in reading those I hear her, accent and all, telling them.

I could never decide what I liked best her singing or her trashy act.

She was in your "Diva" thread wasn't she.
 
of course ..|

she is one of the greatest divas!! (!)
 
Yep - I've loved her since the early 70's. I saw her a number of times - the first 'live' time was at the now-defunct Erlanger Theater in Philadelphia for her 'Clams on the Half-Shell Review'. She has that certain strain of dementia that appeals to me. She can make you puke from laughing so hard, and then at the blink of her eye, she can reach right in and turn your stomach inside out with the emotions coming out of her songs.

Long live Vickie Edie!

Long live Doris DeLago, the Toast of Chicago!
 
oooooowwwwayyy lakanooke gatmay

aaaaawwwwooooaaaayyyy cuummmonawanalaia

doncha think i got sick and tired of those bitches muttering behind my back.." the question before us is where is her clitoris??"

oh the road has been a rocky one
 
We washed...

We showered...

We shaved...

We FDS'ed ourselves into a STUPOR.

And why did we do all this? I'll tell you why we did all this. We did this because we heard there was a depression out here in Cleveland. But y'all don't look too depressed. Except for you, honey -- you look like shit!"

(I Can't believe I said that!)



And don't forget:

I am making the sequal to Emmanuel - I call it Temple Emmanuel. It's not dirty at all, just a lot of kissing of mezuzah's and one, singular subplot in which a woman has an unnatural relationship with a Kreplach. Now I know there must be one or two of you out there in Cleveland who haven't got the faintest idea of what the hell is a Kreplach. And I am here to tell you, Cleveland, that a Kreplach is a person from Kreplachia, which is a small fishing nation wedged between Estonia and Latvia. You don't hear much from them since the Iron Curtain fell, ya know? But every now and then one Kreplach manages to escape....but NEVER to Cleveland.

(Hey Bette!)

What? THERE we have a Kreplach that managed to get to Cleveland. In fact I venture to say that is the Kreplach that ATE Cleveland.
 
We washed...

We showered...

We shaved...

We FDS'ed ourselves into a STUPOR.

And why did we do all this? I'll tell you why we did all this. We did this because we heard there was a depression out here in Cleveland. But y'all don't look too depressed. Except for you, honey -- you look like shit!"

(I Can't believe I said that!)



And don't forget:

I am making the sequal to Emmanuel - I call it Temple Emmanuel. It's not dirty at all, just a lot of kissing of mezuzah's and one, singular subplot in which a woman has an unnatural relationship with a Kreplach. Now I know there must be one or two of you out there in Cleveland who haven't got the faintest idea of what the hell is a Kreplach. And I am here to tell you, Cleveland, that a Kreplach is a person from Kreplachia, which is a small fishing nation wedged between Estonia and Latvia. You don't hear much from them since the Iron Curtain fell, ya know? But every now and then one Kreplach manages to escape....but NEVER to Cleveland.

(Hey Bette!)

What? THERE we have a Kreplach that managed to get to Cleveland. In fact I venture to say that is the Kreplach that ATE Cleveland.

Ah! Memories!! Once again... this is the best thread on the board!!


attachment.php
 
here's another favorite!!! ..|

Otto Titsling, inventor and kraut,
had nothing to get very worked up about.
His inventions were failures, his future seemed bleak.
He fled to the opera at least twice a week.

One night at the opera he saw an Aida
who's t-ts were so big they would often impede her.
Bug-eyed he watched her fall into the pit,
done in by the weight of those terrible t-ts.

Oh, my god! There she blows!
Aerodynamically this bitch was a mess.
Otto eyeballed the diva lying comatose amongst the reeds,
and he suddenly felt the fire of inspiration
flood his soul. He knew what he had to do!
He ran back to his workshop
where he futzed and futzed and futzed.

For Otto Titsling had found his quest:
to lift and mold the female breast;
to point the small ones to the sky;
to keep the big ones high and dry!

Every night he'd sweat and snort
searching for the right support.
He tried some string and paper clips.
Hey! He even tried his own two lips!

Well, he stitched and he slaved
and he slaved and he stitched
until finally one night, in the wee hours of morning,
Otto arose from his workbench triumphant.
Yes! He had invented the worlds first
over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. Hooray!

Exhausted but ecstatic he ran
down the street to the diva's house
bearing the prototype in his hot little hand.
Now, the diva did not want to try the darn thing on.
But, after many initial misgivings,
she finally did.
And the sigh of relief that issued forth
from the diva's mouth
was so loud that it was mistaken by some
to be the early onset of the Siroccan Winds
which would often roll through the Schwarzwald
with a vengeance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But little did Otto know,
at the moment of his greatest triumph,
lurking under the diva's bed
was none other than the very worst
of the French patent thieves,
Philippe DeBrassiere.
And Phil was watching the scene
with a great deal of interest!

Later that night, while our Brun Hilda slept,
into the wardrobe Philippe softly crept.
He fumbled through knickers and corsets galore,
'til he found Otto's titsling and he ran out the door.

Crying, "Oh, my god! What joy! What bliss!
I'm gonna make me a million from this!
Every woman in the world will wanna buy one.
I can have all the goods manufactured in Taiwan."

"Oh, thank you!"

The result of this swindle is pointedly clear:
Do you buy a titsling or do you buy a brassiere?
 
"Doctor Long John. My dreams are full of Doctor Long John."

I got a dentist who's over seven feet tall.
I have a dentist who's over seven feet tall.
His name is Doctor Long John
and he answers every call.

You know, I went to Long John's office.
I said, "Doctor, the pain is killing me."
I went to Long John's office.
I said, "Doctor, the pain is killing."
He said, "Don't worry, baby.
It's just your cavity needs a little filling."

He took out his trusty drill.
Told me to open wide.
He said he wouldn't hurt me,
but he filled my whole inside.
Long John, Long John, don't you ever go away. No.
'Cause you thrill me when you drill me,
and I don't need no novocain today.

Oh, when he got done drilin' he said,
"Now, Miss Midler, that is going to cost you ten."
"I was prepared to pay twenty"
Yeah, yeah, yeah, when he got done drillin' he said,
"Baby, that's gonna cost you ten.
But if it ever starts in to throbbing,
come back and see old Long John
again and again and again and again and again.
Oh, yeah. Yow!

"Long John.
I sold my heart to Doctor Long John and I will never, never be the same.
Oh, that's so heavy I just gotta lay back."
 
Hi! Welcome to another foul evening with the Divine Miss M!
"After many a summer dies the swan,"
but not when their stuck in a turkey as big as this one!
Watch us as we scratch and claw out hour
upon the stage in yet another feeble-minded attempt
to turn chicken shit in to chicken salad.
Make no mistake about it, eggs will be laid tonight!
Ain't that right girls? Oh, my girls.
My three favorite schochkies on the breakfront of life.
I'll never forget the first time I found these girls,
selling their papayas on 42nd Street. So flushed, so filthy.
The astonishing verbal abuse they heaped upon me made me certain
we were destined to share the stage someday.
Not only are my girls fine singers and dancers,
not only are they gorgeous and talented,
but they also think I'm god!
Ain't that right, girls?
They function as a greek chorus.
These girls don't know shit about Euripides,
but they know plenty about Trojans.
Ladies and gentlemen, a rousing hand for the semi-classical
Harlettes! Laides!
Alright girls, sing 'em your siren song, go ahead.
Turn them men into pigs. Not the band, you idiots.
Those, that bunch right over there in the front row.
Not much of a challenge, huh?
This group is already well on its way to oink oink land.
Oops, so sorry. Once again behaving in a manner I had sworn to aschew.
Thank you. Once again falling into the vat of vulgarity.
Oh tut tut.


I did so want to leave my sordid past behind and emerge
form this project beathed in a new and ennobling light.
I wanted to come out and be the sweet, pure, honest,
unadorned person that I really really am.
I wanted to show you the good beneath the gaudy,
the saint beneath all this paint, the sweet, pure,
winsome little soul that lurks beneath this lurid exterior.
But fortunately, just as I was about to rush down the path
to repectability and righteousness,
a wee small voice called out to me in the night
and reminded me of the motto by which I've always tried to live my life:
F$CK 'EM IF THEY CAN'T TAKE A JOKE!
"
 
There are some world renowned female singers who would do well to listen Miss Midler singing to come to understand what it means to sing with emotion.

That women makes my heart stop every time she intones the first word of a song.
 
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