Post by Sabotuer [Q2C] on Dec 15, 2005 14:55:43 GMT -5
After reading Starbirds amazing jokes I just had to put in my most favourate joke in the world...
The Aristocrats
A family walks into a talent agency. It's a father, mother, son, daughter and dog. The father says to the talent agent, "We have a really amazing act. You should represent us."
The agent says, "Sorry, I don't represent family acts. They're a little too cute."
The mother says, "Sir, if you just see our act, we know you would want to represent us."
The agent says, "OK. OK. I'll take a look."
The father says, "It's a patriotic act, so it goes over really well out in the sticks. We start off by marching onto stage playing 'The Stars and Stripes Forever.' I'm dressed like Uncle Sam, and I'm playing a trombone. My wife is dressed like Lady Liberty, and she's playing a piccolo. My son is dressed like a little Abe Lincoln -- it's really cute, because he's not really old enough to grow a full beard -- and he's playing a bass drum. My daughter is dressed like Betsy Ross, and she's carrying a huge American flag on a flagpole.
"While the three of us are still playing, my daughter spreads the flag out on the floor. Then she lifts up her dress and takes a big, wet shit on the flag."
The talent agent gasps a little bit when he hears this. The mother leaps in quickly to calm him down: "Don't worry, we always give her an enema right before showtime, so she can always do it. You don't have to worry about anything going wrong."
The daughter adds: "If you want, we can work the enema into the act."
The father continues. "Lady Liberty walks into the middle of the flag, just upstage from the shit. We usually time this so she's doing that big piccolo solo that John Philip Sousa wrote so well. Right at the climax, my son takes his bass drum and crashes it over her head. Now she's kind of in bondage, her arms are pinned to her sides by the edges of the drum. My daugher rips Lady Libery's robe off, and tears it into little strips that she uses to blindfold and gag my wife.
"While Lady Liberty is being trussed up, my son and I do a quick costume change, and now we come out dressed like Hitler and Mussolini. We unzip our flies and piss all over my wife, till her hair is coming loose and sticking to her neck and shoulders."
The son smiles shyly, and says, "That's my favorite part."
The father chucks his son on the chin, and says, "That's my little pisher!" He goes on: "While my wife is still all yellow and dripping wet, we bring out a Bible. We take turns ripping pages out of the Bible and pasting them all over my wife, till she looks like a mummy."
The mother says, "It's just like papier mache."
The father continues: "Now, you remember that pile of shit my daugher put on the flag? She starts massaging it with her hands until it's soft and smooth. She works all the lumps out of it. Then she takes off her shirt and rolls in it until her titties are all brown. Then she scoops some up, goes over to Lady Liberty, and starts rubbing it all over *her* tits."
The son interrupts: "Dad, you left out the part where I rip the Bible pages off her tits!"
The mother adds: "If he pulls fast enough, it leaves red marks."
The daugher giggles. "Well, they can't see those for very long! I rub the shit all over your boobs so they are all brown like mine!"
The father says, "Now I start licking the shit off my wife's tits, while my son licks the shit off my daughter's tits. Then we switch."
The daughter say, "After that, I go backstage and bring out a bald eagle, the symbol of our country. We've got a choke chain on him, so he can't get too far away."
The father says, "I pull some feathers out of the eagle's tail, he usually makes a big squawk that they can hear all the way in the second balcony. Then Lady Liberty spreads her legs (we let her out of the drum by then) and we ram the eagle's head into her pussy. The bird is flapping its wings around, but she swings it back and forth, and then starts doing pirouettes. You've got great control, honey."
The mother blushes a little bit.
The father continues, "After a few spins, and while the eagle's head is still stuck in my wife's cunt, my son starts f**king the eagle up the ass. While that's going on I start f**king my wife up the ass, and my daugher pushes one end of the flagpole in and out of my ass, while she puts the other end the flagpole in her pussy."
The daughter says, "Well, some days of the month I have to use my asshole instead."
"That's right, honey," says the father before continuing. "Now by the time this is done, the middle of the flag is sort of a mess, but not the edges. So we each go to a corner of the flag and start wiping ourselves clean with it. When that's done, we each roll up our corner of the flag like a rope, stuff it up our assholes, and march off in four different directions. The middle of the flag lifts off the floor, and then as the corners pull out of our assholes, it drifts back down onto the stage."
The mother beams. "The audience just loves that part."
The talent agent is taken aback. "That's it? That's your act?"
The father says, "For an encore we take the flag and what's left of the Bible, set them on fire, and roast the eagle over it."
For the longest time, the agent just sits in silence. Finally, he manages, "That's a hell of an act. What do you call it?"
And the father says, "The Aristocrats!"
The Aristocrats
A family walks into a talent agency. It's a father, mother, son, daughter and dog. The father says to the talent agent, "We have a really amazing act. You should represent us."
The agent says, "Sorry, I don't represent family acts. They're a little too cute."
The mother says, "Sir, if you just see our act, we know you would want to represent us."
The agent says, "OK. OK. I'll take a look."
The father says, "It's a patriotic act, so it goes over really well out in the sticks. We start off by marching onto stage playing 'The Stars and Stripes Forever.' I'm dressed like Uncle Sam, and I'm playing a trombone. My wife is dressed like Lady Liberty, and she's playing a piccolo. My son is dressed like a little Abe Lincoln -- it's really cute, because he's not really old enough to grow a full beard -- and he's playing a bass drum. My daughter is dressed like Betsy Ross, and she's carrying a huge American flag on a flagpole.
"While the three of us are still playing, my daughter spreads the flag out on the floor. Then she lifts up her dress and takes a big, wet shit on the flag."
The talent agent gasps a little bit when he hears this. The mother leaps in quickly to calm him down: "Don't worry, we always give her an enema right before showtime, so she can always do it. You don't have to worry about anything going wrong."
The daughter adds: "If you want, we can work the enema into the act."
The father continues. "Lady Liberty walks into the middle of the flag, just upstage from the shit. We usually time this so she's doing that big piccolo solo that John Philip Sousa wrote so well. Right at the climax, my son takes his bass drum and crashes it over her head. Now she's kind of in bondage, her arms are pinned to her sides by the edges of the drum. My daugher rips Lady Libery's robe off, and tears it into little strips that she uses to blindfold and gag my wife.
"While Lady Liberty is being trussed up, my son and I do a quick costume change, and now we come out dressed like Hitler and Mussolini. We unzip our flies and piss all over my wife, till her hair is coming loose and sticking to her neck and shoulders."
The son smiles shyly, and says, "That's my favorite part."
The father chucks his son on the chin, and says, "That's my little pisher!" He goes on: "While my wife is still all yellow and dripping wet, we bring out a Bible. We take turns ripping pages out of the Bible and pasting them all over my wife, till she looks like a mummy."
The mother says, "It's just like papier mache."
The father continues: "Now, you remember that pile of shit my daugher put on the flag? She starts massaging it with her hands until it's soft and smooth. She works all the lumps out of it. Then she takes off her shirt and rolls in it until her titties are all brown. Then she scoops some up, goes over to Lady Liberty, and starts rubbing it all over *her* tits."
The son interrupts: "Dad, you left out the part where I rip the Bible pages off her tits!"
The mother adds: "If he pulls fast enough, it leaves red marks."
The daugher giggles. "Well, they can't see those for very long! I rub the shit all over your boobs so they are all brown like mine!"
The father says, "Now I start licking the shit off my wife's tits, while my son licks the shit off my daughter's tits. Then we switch."
The daughter say, "After that, I go backstage and bring out a bald eagle, the symbol of our country. We've got a choke chain on him, so he can't get too far away."
The father says, "I pull some feathers out of the eagle's tail, he usually makes a big squawk that they can hear all the way in the second balcony. Then Lady Liberty spreads her legs (we let her out of the drum by then) and we ram the eagle's head into her pussy. The bird is flapping its wings around, but she swings it back and forth, and then starts doing pirouettes. You've got great control, honey."
The mother blushes a little bit.
The father continues, "After a few spins, and while the eagle's head is still stuck in my wife's cunt, my son starts f**king the eagle up the ass. While that's going on I start f**king my wife up the ass, and my daugher pushes one end of the flagpole in and out of my ass, while she puts the other end the flagpole in her pussy."
The daughter says, "Well, some days of the month I have to use my asshole instead."
"That's right, honey," says the father before continuing. "Now by the time this is done, the middle of the flag is sort of a mess, but not the edges. So we each go to a corner of the flag and start wiping ourselves clean with it. When that's done, we each roll up our corner of the flag like a rope, stuff it up our assholes, and march off in four different directions. The middle of the flag lifts off the floor, and then as the corners pull out of our assholes, it drifts back down onto the stage."
The mother beams. "The audience just loves that part."
The talent agent is taken aback. "That's it? That's your act?"
The father says, "For an encore we take the flag and what's left of the Bible, set them on fire, and roast the eagle over it."
For the longest time, the agent just sits in silence. Finally, he manages, "That's a hell of an act. What do you call it?"
And the father says, "The Aristocrats!"