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World's Worst Pick-up Lines...

I wish you were a Pony Carousel outside Wal-Mart, so I could ride you all day long for a quarter.

Just call me milk, I'll do your body good.

Your body's name must be visa, because it's everywhere I want to be.

Can I buy you a drink, or do you just want the money?

I may not be Fred Flintstone, but I bet I can make your Bed Rock.

I may not be the best looking guy here, but I'm the only one talking to you.

My love for you is like the energizer bunny, it keeps going and going.

Yo Baby, you be my Dairy Queen, I'll be your Burger King, you treat me right, and I'll do it your way right away.

I'd like to screw your brains out, but it appears that someone beat me to it.

If you were a new hamburger at McDonald's, you would be McGorgeous.

Is that Windex? Because I can see myself in your pants.

Wanna Play House? You be the screen door and I'll slam you all night long.

Excuse me, do you have your phone number? I've seem to have lost mine.

I'm new in town, could I have directions to your house.

If your left leg was Thanksgiving and your right leg Christmas, can I visit you between the Holidays?

I love every bone in your body - especially mine.

You might not be the best looking girl here, but beauty is only a light switch away.

Hi, I'm a necrophiliac, how good are you at playing dead?

I can't find my puppy, can you help me find him? I think he went into that cheap motel room.

The fact that I'm missing my teeth just means that there's more room for your tongue.

- Guy: Haven't I seen you someplace before?

- Girl: Yes, that's why I don't go there anymore.

A salesman was testifying in his divorce proceedings against his wife.

- Please describe - said his attorney:

- the incident that first caused you to entertain suspicions as to your wife's fidelity.

- Well, I'm pretty much on the road all week - the man testified.

- So naturally when I am home, I'm attentive to the wife.

- One Sunday morning - he continued:

- we were in the midst of some pretty heavy love-making when the old lady in the apartment next door pounded on the wall and yelled, 'Can't you at least stop all that racket on the weekends?'

I took some friends out to dinner last week, and I noticed a spoon in the shirt pocket of our waiter as he handed us the menus. It seemed a little odd, but I dismissed it as a random thing. Until our busboy came with water & tableware; he too, sported a spoon in his breast pocket. I looked around the room, and all the waiters, waitresses, busboys, etc. had spoons in their pockets.

When our waiter returned to take our order, I just had to ask:

- Why the spoons?

- Well, our parent company recently hired some Andersen Consulting efficiency experts to review all our procedures, and after months of statistical analyses, they concluded that our patrons drop spoons on the floor 73% more often than any other utensil; at a frequency of 3 spoons per hour per workstation. By preparing all our workers for this contingency in advance, we can cut our trips to the kitchen down and save time...nearly 1.5 extra man-hours per shift. - he explained.

Just as he concluded, a "ch-ching" came from the table behind him, and he quickly replaced a fallen spoon with the one from his pocket.

- I'll grab another spoon the next time I'm in the kitchen instead of making a special trip, - he proudly explained.

I was impressed:

- Thanks. I had to ask.

- No problem, - he answered, then he continued to take our orders.

As the members of my dinner party took their turns, my eyes darted back & forth from each person ordering and my menu. That's when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a thin, black thread protruding from our waiter's fly. Again, I dismissed it; yet I had to scan the room and, sure enough, there were other waiters & busboys with strings hanging out of their trousers.

My curiosity overrode discretion at this point, so before he could leave I had to ask:

- Excuse me, but...uh...why, or what...about that string?

- Oh, yeah - he began in a quieter tone.

- Not many people are that observant. That same efficiency group found we could save time in the Men's room, too.

- How's that? - I asked.

- You see, by tying a string to the end of our, eh. . ., selves, we can pull it out at the urinals literally hands-free and thereby eliminate the need to wash our hands, cutting time spent in the restroom by over 93%!

- Oh, that makes sense, - I said, but then thinking through the process, I asked:

- Hey, wait a minute. If the string helps you pull it out, how do you get it back in?

- Well, I don't know about the other guys; but I use the spoon in my pocket! - he whispered.

There's a celery, a carrot, and a dick talking.

The celery was like:

- Man, I got it bad, they chop me up and put me in cold water!

Then the carrot was like:

- You think you got it bad they chop me up and stick me in HOT water!

Then the dick said:

- Ya, well I got it the worst.

They put me in a plastic bag, stick me in a dark cave, and make me do push-ups until I puke!

There were three priests in a railroad station, all wanting to go home to Pittsburg. Behind the ticket counter was a very, very shapely lass.

Well endowed, gorgeous, amazing. The priests were all in embarrassing new territory, so they drew straws to determine who would get the tickets.

The first priest approached the window.

- Young lady - he began, I would like three pickets to titsburg...

Whereupon he completely lost his composure and fled.

The second priest approached.

- Young lady, I would like three tickets to Pittsburg - he began, and I would like the change in nipples and dimes.

So of course he also fled.

Then came the third.

- Young lady, I would like three tickets to Pittsburg, and I would like the change in nickels and dimes. And I must say - he continued, if you insist on dressing like that, when you get to the pearly gates, St. Finger's going to shake his peter at you!

Don't try to understand the theory of relativity.

Relativity is like an erection - the more you think about it, the harder it gets.

Recent Canadian government research has shown that cigarette smoking not only impairs sexual ability, it actually causes shrinkage of the male sexual "equipment." Wow! If that is true, we need to get the word out ASAP! Maybe the warning on the cigarette packs should be updated to reflect this new information. How about something like this:

- Warning: These cigarettes are king size -- how about you?

- Warning: Smoking sections in restaurants aren't the only things getting smaller.

- Warning: If you don't reduce your smoking, your smoking will reduce you.

- Warning: Smoking may lead to ridicule on your honeymoon.

- Warning: Smoke rises, but you may not.

- Warning: Second-hand smoke can be harmful to children -- That is.. if you're capable of conceiving any.

- Warning: Cigarettes get shorter the more you puff -- so do you.

- Warning: How can you enjoy a smoke afterwards, if there's no before?

- Warning: The only thing left after a smoke is a dead stub.

- Warning: Don't throw lit cigarettes in the urinal -- you might not have the range to put them out.

Did you hear about the conceited blonde?
→ She screams her own name when she comes.

A woman goes to a doctor with a problem. She's sat on the chair next to the doctor, and she's very hesitant about describing her problem. Eventually, the doctor manages to discover that she thinks she may be sexually perverted.

- What sort of perversion are you talking about? - asks the doctor.

- Well - said the woman.

- I like to be... Ohh... Ah... Ummm... I'm sorry doctor, but I'm too ashamed to talk about it.

- Come, come, my dear. I'm a doctor you know; I've been trained to understand these problems. So what's the matter...?

So the woman again tried to explain, but got so embarrassed that she just turned bright red and looked as though she might faint. It was then the doctor had a bright idea.

- Look - he said.

- I'm a bit of a pervert myself. So if you show me what your perversion is, I'll show you what mine is. Okay? Is it a deal?

The woman considered the offer and after a short while agreed that it was a fair request. So after a slight pause, she said:

- Well my perversion is... My perversion... Oh... I like to be kissed on the bottom!

- Shit, is that ALL! - said the doctor.

- Look, go behind that screen, take all your clothes off, and I'll come round and show you what MY perversion is! Hee Hee!

So the woman does as she is told and undresses behind the screen. She gets down on all fours thinking to herself:

- Hmmmm, perhaps he might kiss me on the bum.

Anyway, five minutes pass and nothing has happened. So the woman peers around the side of the screen to see the doctor sitting behind his desk, his feet up on the table, reading a newspaper and whistling to himself.

- Hey! - shouted the woman.

- I thought you said you were a pervert?

- Oh I am - said the doctor.

- I've just shit in your handbag!

Three men were standing in line to get into heaven one day. Apparently it had been a pretty busy day, though, so Peter had to tell the first one:

- Heaven's getting pretty close to full today, and I've been asked to admit only people who have had particularly horrible deaths. So what's your story?

So the first man replies:

- Well, for a while I've suspected my wife has been cheating on me, so today I came home early to try to catch her red handed. As I came into my 25th floor apartment, I could tell something was wrong, but all my searching around didn't reveal where this other guy could have been hiding. Finally, I went out to the balcony, and sure enough, there was this man hanging off the railing, 25 floors above ground. By now I was really mad, so I started beating on him and kicking him, but wouldn't you know it, he wouldn't fall off. So finally I went back into my apartment and got a hammer and starting hammering on his fingers. Of course, he couldn't stand that for long, so he let go and fell -- but even after 25 stories, he fell into the bushes, stunned but okay. I couldn't stand it anymore, so I ran into the kitchen, grabbed the fridge and threw it over the edge where it landed on him, killing him instantly. But all the stress and anger got to me, and I had a heart attack and died there on the balcony.

- That sounds like a pretty bad day to me - said Peter, and let the man in.

The second man comes up and Peter explains to him about heaven being full, and again asks for his story.

- It's been a very strange day. You see, I live on the 26th floor of my apartment building, and every morning I do my exercises out on my balcony. Well, this morning I must have slipped or something, because I fell over the edge. But I got lucky, and caught the railing of the balcony on the floor below me. I knew I couldn't hang on for very long, when suddenly this man burst out onto the balcony. I thought for sure I was saved, when he started beating on me and kicking me. I held on the best I could until he ran into the apartment and grabbed a hammer and started pounding on my hands. Finally I just let go, but again I got lucky and fell into the bushes below, stunned but all right. Just when I was thinking I was going to be okay, this refrigerator comes falling out of the sky and crushes me instantly, and now I'm here.

Once again, Peter had to concede that that sounded like a pretty horrible death.

The third man came to the front of the line, and again the whole process was repeated. Peter explained that heaven was full and asked for his story.

- Picture this - says the third man.

- I'm hiding naked inside a refrigerator...