DON’T BLAME MADPRIEST, BLAME THATWICKED PARISH PRIEST FROM SUFFOLK

Slightly modified by MadPriest.

The Marines found they had too many officers and decided to offer an early retirement bonus. They promised any officer who volunteered for retirement a bonus of £1,000 for every inch measured in a straight line between any two points in his body. The officer got to choose what those two points would be.

The first officer who accepted asked that he be measured from the top of his head to the tip of his toes... He was measured at six feet and walked out with a bonus of £72,000.

The second officer who accepted was a little smarter and asked to be measured from the tip of his outstretched hands to his toes. He walked out with £96,000.

The third one was a non-commissioned officer, a grizzly old Chief Stoker who, when asked where he would like to be measured replied, 'From the tip of my penis to my testicles.'

It was suggested by the pension man that he might want to reconsider, explaining about the nice big cheques the previous two Officers had received. But the old Chief insisted and they decided to go along with him providing the measure was taken by a Medical Officer.

The Medical Officer arrived and instructed the Chief to drop ’em,' which he did.

The Medical Officer placed the tape measure on the tip of the Chief's penis and began to work back.

"Dear Lord!" he suddenly exclaimed, "Where are your testicles?"

"Baghdad medical centre, Doc," the Old Chief calmly replied.

Comments

DON’T BLAME MADPRIEST, BLAME THATWICKED PARISH PRIEST FROM SUFFOLK — 2 Comments

  1. Laughed a bit, but realised that this is a new variation on a very old joke..

    A ribbon salesman, Mr. Pincus, was continually trying to make a sale to Smith & Sons, a very WASP-y store in New York, but he was always being rudely brushed off by the buyer, a notorious anti-Semite. One day, after his latest sales call, the buyer said, “I’ll take as much pink ribbon as goes from the top of your head to the tip of your Jewish prick.” Mr. Pincus left.

    A few weeks later, the buyer was amazed to find a consignment from Pincus & Co. of many large spools of pink ribbon. He called Pincus and roared, “What do you mean sending all this pink ribbon to me?” Mr. Pincus said, “You ordered enough pink ribbon to stretch from the top of my head to the tip of my prick. May I remind you that I was born, and circumcised, in Minsk?”