DmentDStuff wrote:How do you get a nun pregnant?
Dress her up as an alter boy... ha!
Here's a funny one...
Two ship captains were sitting at the bar one night getting good and drunk when one turned to the other and said, "You know what gets me, though, is these damn sailors! Oh, they're fine for the first few weeks, but on those three-month trips at sea they start getting pretty hard up. With all the jerking off going on, it's a wonder any work is getting done, and it's making a mess all over the ship. I don't know what to do!"
The other captain smiles knowingly at his companion. "Oldest trick in the book. You take the crew and divide them into two teams, then you buy about 50 barrels and put them on the ship. You tell the crew that the team that fills the most barrels wins a bag of gold." "Well that's a great way to keep the ship clean, but then I'm out a bag of gold every trip!"
"Not so," replied the other captain. "After you get back to port, take all the barrels together and sell them to the wax factory to make into candles. You make money hand over fist every time."
The captain pondered this and the next day, he took his friend's advice and divided the crew, bought a bunch of barrels, and set off to sea. Before long, the crew took to the new system and began filling barrel after barrel. When they finally reached port, the captain sold the barrels for a huge profit. 'This is great,' thought the captain, 'before long, I'll be able to buy a new boat!'
This went on, voyage after voyage. Then one day, the ship happened back to that very first port. Coming down the gangplank, the captain was surprised to see the cops waiting for him. As they slapped the cuffs on him, the captain cried out "What's the meaning of this?!"
"You sick bastard," replied the cop. "Remember all those barrels you sold to the candle factory last time you passed through town?"
"Sure," said the captain. "What about 'em?!"
"Well, they made them into candles, sold them to the convent, and now all the nuns are pregnant!"
Oppenheimer, watching the blast, is reputed to have said, "I have become death, destroyer of worlds," misquoting the Bhagavad Gita. Dr. Kenneth Bainbridge, director of the test, was less poetic, or perhaps more so. On seeing the might of the explosion, he commented, "Now we are all sons-of-bitches."