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The parish priest went on a fishing trip. On the last day of his trip he hooked a monster fish and proceeded to reel it in. The guide, holding a net, yelled, “Look at the size of that Son of a Bitch!”
“Son, I’m a priest. Your language is uncalled for!”
“No, Father, that’s what kind of fish it is – a Son of a Bitch fish!”
“Really? Well then, help me land this Son of a Bitch!”
Once in the boat, they marvelled at the size of the monster.
“Father, that’s the biggest Son of a Bitch I’ve ever seen”
“Yes, it is a big Son of a Bitch.. What should I do with it?”
“Why, eat it! Of course. You’ve never tasted anything as good as Son of a Bitch!”
Elated, the priest headed home to the rectory. While unloading his gear & his prize catch, Sister Mary inquired about his trip.
“Take a look at this big Son of a Bitch I caught!”
Sister Mary gasped & clutched her rosary, “Father!”
“It’s OK, Sister. That’s what kind of fish it is, a Son of a Bitch fish!”
“Oh, well then, what are you going to do with that big Son of a Bitch?”
Sister Mary informed the priest that the new Bishop was scheduled to visit in a few days and that they should fix the Son of a Bitch for his dinner.
“I’ll even clean the Son of a Bitch,” she said. As she was cleaning the huge fish, the Friar walked in.
“What are you doing Sister?”
“Father wants me to clean this big Son of a Bitch for the new Bishop’s Dinner”
“Sister! I’ll clean it if you’re so upset! Please watch your language!”
“No, no, no, it’s called a Son of a Bitch Fish.”
“Really? Well, in that case, I’ll fix up a great meal to go with it, and that Son of a Bitch can be the main course! Let me know when you’ve finished cleaning that Son of a Bitch.”
On the night of the new Bishop’s visit, everything was perfect. The Friar had prepared an excellent meal. The wine was fine, and the fish was excellent.
The new Bishop said, “This is great fish, where did you get it?”
“I caught that Son of a Bitch!” proclaimed the proud priest.
“And I cleaned the Son of a Bitch!” exclaimed the Sister.
The Friar added,” And I prepared the Son of a Bitch, using a special recipe! The new Bishop looked around at each of them. A big smile crept across his face as he said, “You fuckers are my kind of people.”

All of these annoying habits are enough to make you spit with rage, but there’s always that one habit that leaves you grimacing with painful unrestrained anger more than any other. Let’s see if there is a consensus as to which habit is the most universally hated.
This guy is banging a girl, and the girl asks, “You haven’t got AIDS have you?” He replies, “Nope.” She responds, “Oh, thank fuck for that! I don’t want to get that again!”

Q. Have you heard about the new super-sensitive condoms?
A. They hang around after the man leaves and talks to the woman.


My prick is so big…
There’s still snow on it in the summertime.
I have to call it Mr. Prick in front of company.
It won’t return Spielberg’s calls.
It has an elevator and a lobby.
It has casters.
There was once a movie called Godzilla vs. My Prick.
It lives next door.
I entered it in a big-prick contest and it came in first, second, and third.
It has a three-picture deal.
No matter where I go, my prick always gets there first.
I’d wear it as a tie if I wasn’t so afraid of getting a hard-on and killing myself.
A homeless family lives underneath it.
It takes four fat women and a team of Clydesdales to jack me off.
They use the bullet train to test my condoms.
It has investors.
I have to cook it breakfast in the mornings.
That we’re all a part of it, and it’s all a part of us.
It has its own dick. And even my prick’s prick is bigger than your prick.
It only does one show a night.
That right now it’s in the other room fixing us drinks.
It only tips with hundreds.
It only comes into work when it feels like it.
Movie theatres now serve popcorn in small, medium, large, and My Prick.

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