guthmund

Ron liked baked beans. And despite the fact that he was a walking biochemical hazard for days after, he ate cans and cans of baked beans.

One day Ron met a lovely girl and they fell in love, but Ron knew that he couldn't carry on with the baked beans, so, he decided to give them up cold turkey.

A few months later it was Ron's birthday and naturally the car broke down on his way home from work. He called his wife and started walking.

Down the road a bit, Ron caught the smell of delicious baked beans coming from a diner just ahead. Feeling pretty bad and sure he could walk off the 'unpleasantness' afterwards, he decided to treat himself to several large helpings of his beloved baked beans.

Sure enough as soon as he was out of the door of the diner, Ron started farting. All the long way home, Ron would let loose everytime his stomach jostled a bit.

Sure that he had worked all of it out of his system, Ron walked up the drive only to be met by his wife. "Honey!" she says, "Listen, I've got a fabulous dinner planned and a big surprise for you birthday boy. Just put on this blindfold, so you won't ruin the surprise, silly, and I'll take you inside."

Sure enough, she led Ron into the house and set him in his favorite chair in the dining room. The pressure in Ron's gut was slowly building, so it came as a relief when the telephone rang. "I have to get that, Ron. I'll be back, whatever you do, don't peak or you'll ruin my surprise."

He waited for her footsteps to soften and quite casually, Ron leaned over on one buttcheek and let loose the wind. Not only was it loud enough to echo in the small dining hall, but also reeked of spoiled, rotten eggs. Desperately trying not to breathe, Ron began fanning his arms back and forth trying to dispel the horrible stench.

Unfortunately, the motion jostled his insides and the pressure slowly built up again. Ron leaned to the other side and let loose another. This one was even louder and smelled even fouler, if that was possible. The smell was horrible, but Ron was starting to feel a bit better and his wife still wasn't back, so, he decided to let one last one go.

This one shook the windows in their sills. The smell was atrocious. It wafted over the table, killing the flowers and brought tears to Ron's still blindfolded eyes.

Hearing the endings of the phone conversation, Ron sits patiently and smiles innocently waiting for his wife to return.

Apologizing for the call, his wife asked Ron if he had been peeking while she had stepped out. He assured he had not, so, she removed the blindfold and yelled surprise.

To his shock and horror, sitting around the table, napkins in hand, were a number of his closest friends and their wives.

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No signature. None. Seriously.

Charlatan

My Dad used to tell this joke... and then he'd let out a fart and laugh and laugh and laugh...

I miss my Dad.

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"My hands are on fire. Hands are on fire. Ain't got no more time for all you charlatans and liars."
- Old Man Luedecke