His dick tater ship didnt last very long.
Or Josh with them. But try not to Rob or Sue them.
We have a foot fetish. Grow up
Short
...he tells the owner and bartender that he’s a surgeon down at the hospital and he just wants to forget about everything for awhile.
Dick knows just the thing. He quickly whips up a thick, exotic beverage and places it in front of the worn out doctor. He takes one sip and his eyes light up. “What IS that?” “That’s my signature almond daiquiri”, Dick tells him. The surgeon tells him it’s delicious, pays his bill and comes back the next day and the next day at the same time for the same thing: An almond daiquiri.
Before long, like clockwork, Dick is able to have it ready for him just before he comes in. But, one day as he is preparing the drink, he realizes that he’s run out of almonds! With no time to lose, he quickly substitutes the almonds with hickory nuts and sets the beverage on the bar.
The surgeon pops in, takes a big gulp, and immediately spits it all over the bar. He looks at the bartender and says, “That’s not an almond daiquiri, Dick!” And Dick says, “No, it’s a hickory daiquiri, Doc!”.
This just happened about an hour ago.
I was holding my infant son, and my wife asked me to hand her the Aquaphor. I said it is a shame we don't have a Dickphor. She just stared at me.
"I don't know what you are saying," she said flatly.
"A dickphor. You know, a dickphor."
"... no idea."
"Oh you know, a dickphor." At this point I'm laughing.
"Wha... I get that you are saying 'dick' instead of 'qua', but I don't understand what that means." She was laughing too by now.
"A dickphor! You've heard of a dickphor! A dickphor!" I figured if I said it enough, she would eventually give me the reply I now needed more than anything.
"... what is a dickph-" she realized in that moment that she had given me exactly what I was after. I could see in her face that she wanted to go back, to un-ask the question. But it was too late. I couldn't hold back long enough for her to even finish the sentence.
"PEEING!" I squealed triumphantly. Not since the Parthian capharacts defeated the calvary of Crassus at Carrhae has a victory tasted so sweet.
We both laughed long enough for our 8 month old son to realize that he was doomed to a life of dadjokes.
A set of quadruplets went in to the local doctor's office for their annual check up. Once they were finished, the doctor asked to speak with them all in his private office.
As the four of them; Jeb, Richard, Lee, and the eldest John Hickleford Jr. entered the room and took seats, the doctor shook his head. "I've got bad news and I've got good news boys" he said.
Jeb, the spokesman of the group, immediately said, "Well, tell us the bad news first, and then spring the good news on us."
"Alright," continued the doctor. "The bad news is that one of you only has six months to live. The good news is that the other three of you will live long, healthy lives."
All four boys sprang from their chairs, making incoherent noises of protest. After settling them down, Jeb turned to the doctor and solemnly asked: "Hick or Lee, Dick or me, Doc?"
We were discussing the paralympics, and my brother mentioned a swimmer with no arms or legs.
My Stepdad then immediately said "Was his name clever dick?"
He laughed, long and loud, and so did I. Everyone else groaned.
