Towel Jokes / Recent Jokes

Some people say cats never have to be bathed. They say cats lick
themselves clean. They say cats have a special enzyme of some sort
in their saliva that works like new, improved Wisk - dislodging the
dirt where it hides and whisking it away.
I've spent most of my life believing this folklore. Like most blind
believers, I've been able to discount all the facts to the
contrary - the kitty odors that lurk in the corners of the garage
and dirt smudges that cling to the throw rug by the fireplace.
The time comes, however, when a man must face reality; when he must
look squarely in the face of massive public sentiment to the contrary
and announce: "This cat smells like a port-a-potty on a hot day in
Juarez."
When that day arrives at your house, as it has in mine, I have some
advice you might consider as you place your feline friend under your
arm and head for the bathtub:
Know that although the cat has the advantage of more...

Joan, a rather well-proportioned & near-sighted secretary, spent almost all of her vacation sunbathing on the roof of her hotel. She wore a bathing suit the first few days, but always removed her glasses for an even facial tan. After several days she decided that no one could see her way up there, so she slipped out of her suit for an overall tan. She'd hardly begun when she heard someone running up the stairs; she was lying on her stomach, so she just pulled a towel over her rear. "Excuse me, miss," said the flustered little assistant manager of the hotel, out of breath from running up the stairs. "The hotel doesn't mind your sunbathing on the roof, but we would very much appreciate your wearing a bathing suit as you have for the past week." "What difference does it make?" Joan asked rather calmly. "No one can see me up here, and besides, I'm covered with a towel." "Not exactly," said the embarrassed little man. "You're lying on more...

Joan, the rather well-proportioned secretary, spent almost all of
her vacation sunbathing on the roof of her hotel. She wore a bathing suit
the frist day, but on the second, she decided that no one could see her
way up there, and she slipped out of it for an overall tan. She'd hardly
begun when she heard someone running up the stairs; she was lying on her
stomach, so she just pulled a towel over her rear.
"Excuse me, miss," said the flustered little assistant manager of
the hotel, out of breath from running up the stairs. "The Hilton doesn't
mind your sunbathing on the roof, but we would very much appreciate your
wearing a bathing suit as you did yesterday."
"What difference does it make," Joan asked rather calmly. "No one
can see me up here, and besides, I'm covered with a towel."
"Indeed," said the man, "but we would prefer you didn't lie on
the dining room more...

An older Jewish gentleman marries a younger lady and they are very much in love. However, no matter what the husband does sexually, the woman never achieves orgasm. Since a Jewish wife is entitled to sexual pleasure, they decide to ask the rabbi.

The rabbi listens to their story, strokes his beard, and makes the following suggestion. "Hire a strapping young man. While the two of you are making love, have the young man wave a towel over you. That will help the wife fantasize and should bring on an orgasm."

They go home and follow the rabbi's advice. They hire a handsome young man and he waves a towel over them as they make love. But it doesn't help and she is still unsatisfied. Perplexed, they go back to the rabbi.

"Okay", says the rabbi, "let's try it reversed. Have the young man make love to your wife and you wave the towel over them."

Once again, they follow the rabbi's advice. The young man gets into bed with more...

Joan, who was a rather well-proportioned secretary, spent almost all of her vacation sunbathing on the roof of her hotel. She wore a bathing suit the first day, but on the second, she decided that no one could see her way up there, and she slipped out of it for an overall tan. She'd hardly begun when she heard someone running up the stairs. She was lying on her stomach, so she just pulled a towel over her rear. "Excuse me, miss," said the flustered assistant manager of the hotel, out of breath from running up the stairs. "The Hilton doesn't mind your sunbathing on the roof, but we would very much appreciate your wearing a bathing suit as you did yesterday." "What difference does it make?" Joan asked rather calmly. "No one can see me up here, and besides, I'm covered with a towel." "Not exactly," said the embarrassed man. "You're lying on the dining room skylight."

At his request, each morning three-year-old Ray's mother pinned a bath towel to the back shoulders of his size two T-shirt. Immediately in his young imaginative mind the towel
became a brilliant magic blue and red cape.
And he became Superman. Outfitted each day in his "cape," Ray's days were packed with adventure and daring escapades. He was Superman.
This fact was clearly pointed out last fall when his mother enrolled him in kindergarten class. During the course of the interview, the teacher asked Ray his name.
"Superman," he answered politely and without pause.
The teacher smiled, cast an appreciative glance at his mother, and asked again, "Your real name, please."
Again, Ray answered, "Superman."
Realizing the situation demanded more authority, or maybe to hide amusement, the teacher closed her eyes for a moment, then in a voice quite stern, said, "I will have to have your real name for the more...

Joan, who was rather well-proportioned, spent almost all of her vacation sunbathing on the roof of her hotel. She wore a bathing suit the first day, but on the second, she decided that no one could see her way up there, and she slipped out of it for an overall tan.
She'd hardly begun when she heard someone running up the stairs. She was lying on her stomach, so she just pulled a towel over her rear.
"Excuse me, miss," said the flustered assistant manager of the hotel, out of breath from running up the stairs. "The Hilton doesn't mind your sunbathing on the roof, but we would very much appreciate your wearing a bathing suit as you did yesterday."
"What difference does it make?" Joan asked rather calmly. "No one can see me up here, and besides, I'm covered with a towel."
"Not exactly," said the embarrassed man. "You're lying on the dining room skylight."