Porkjerky.com
Funnier Than A Retard On Fire
 

Gallery->Clean Jokes

    Email Page To Someone   Create A Link For This Page   Be An Idiot, Click Here
Next Page -->
<-- Prior Page
Gallery Main

So, I Just Broke Up With My Girlfriend...
But Seriously Folks...       Anyone Like Top 10 Lists?

You Guys Like Impressions?

Listed below, but not explained, are some of the cleanest jokes I have done on stage. Some of them have a picture of me which denotes that a Real Audio (Real Audio? Motherfucking fuck, how old is this cocksucking site? Jesus Christ, can you even get that fucking player any more. Real Audio, what a piece of slimy shit site.) To listen, simply click on the picture near the joke you want to hear. If it doesn't work it either means it was all a trick and you uploaded your last 3 years tax returns and all of your family's social security numbers to my site or you don't have RealPlayer because your computer wasn't purchased during the Eisenhower administration, or possibly you're so retarded you don't even have speakers. To fix any of those issues, buy a new computer.

I'm Not Clean

Click Here For Audio
Audio Available
I'm not a clean comic, ok. There, there will be dirty jokes. I'm dirty. I curse, I talk about obscene things. There will be dirty jokes. I'm not gonna come out here and blow smoke up your fanny, I'm not gonna tell you I'm clean, then, then slowly slip in some dirty words hoping you wont notice.

No, not me from joke one I am going to be as dirty and raunchy as a homeless guys tushy in summer. So buckley up people. I'm dirty, and I really don't give a good gosh darn what people think or say about my abilities because I am dirty as crud.

I think being truthful from the get-go is a lot better than what some of these so called "clean" comics do. These A-holes say they are clean, right? And they get up here and spout out a few Viagra jokes, throw in a couple Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinski jokes, they say 'whats up with that?' a couple times, and some of them will throw in a few clean jokes that start out 'Y'all white folks be crazy--'; but sure enough, they run out of clean jokes.

And soon all they are talking about is tinkling, or taking a doo-doo and humping this and humping that. And that's a bunch of bull honkey, man. That crud really gets me PO-ed. Those SOBs lie to you. They aren't clean comics. They are dirty.

There's nothing bad with them being dirty, because so am I; but I don't lie about it. I tell you up front that there will be dirty jokes, I'm gonna say some obscene things, I'm gonna talk about the size of my weiner and how I like making whoopee. And I am going to curse. I'm gonna curse a heck of a bunch.

I'm gonna curse like a mofo. Freaking-A-Right I am going to curse. And if you don't like it...well I don't give a rats hiney, because they're just words, they arent' gonna hurt anybody. If you don't like it you can bend over and kiss your own patooties. If you guys get offended at that; then you must have doodie for brains.

Slaves

I can't believe that in this new millienium, people are so narrowminded and prejudice. The 2000's and people have these mindsets that date back to the 1700's. It just pisses me off. I was at work and I had a million things to do, both for work and personally. And I say out loud, mainly because I trusted the people I was with--I didn't think they were racist, I said, "Man I'm so busy, I wish slavery was still legal so I could own one, and he, or she--I'm not sexist--could run around town and do all my errands for me. Stupid Emmancipation Proclamation."

And out of nowhere my coworkers go "Jason you're racist. That is so wrong, Your such a bigot jason, black people were not put here on this earth to be your slaves."

How narrowminded is that? Prejudice like that just pisses me off. How racist was that? Telling me that black people are not her to be my slaves. How wrong is that? I didn't stand for that kind of ignorance. So I did what any red blooded, apple pie eating, mom loving american would do.

I looked them square in their eyes and go, "Listen here you racist bastards, I'm not the bigot here, you guys are, and frankly it pisses me off, I didn't say anything about owning a black person as a slave. You and your narrow minds are the one who automatiaclly assumed that all slaves have to be black. You hear the word "slave" and automatically think black people. Now that is bigotry, that's a racist association. You guys are the bigots, not me. Open your minds for christ sake. You disgust me. I'm not racist you are.

"Hell, I'd take a mexican slave. Or an indian, fillipino, eskimo, or even one of them dirty cubans as a slave. Haitians make excellent slaves, but does anyone ever think of them? No. It disgusts me that in this day and age prejudice and narrowmindedness like that still exists. Makes me sick. Free your minds people."

Wheelchair Love

My sister Kelly was in a car accident about 11 years ago and she will always be in a wheelchair. I see her and I feel sorry because, shes lonely and its hard to meet people to date when your like that.

Sure, sure there are those wheelchair social and single events, but those places are just meat markets, people who go there only have one thing on their minds....Doing wheelies. Yeah, they cant move their legs, or anything beween them, They havent invented parapalegic strength Viagra yet. So wheelies is how they get there kicks.

This weekend a meet a nice guy who also has been wheelchair bound since his teens, he had a freak can opening accident. Long story short, Beefaroni should only be prepared when sober. He lost both his legs above the knee and 4 inches of his small intestines. He had to learn the hard way. He seemed like a pretty nice guy, not part of that wheelchair wheelie crowd. So, wanted to do a good deed and started thinking. Maybe I could set him up with my sister. Play a little wheelchair matchmaker. A cupid to the crippleds if you will.

But then I go 'Whoa slow down. Think this thing thru Doctor Love.' Ok, suppose it works out: They talk on the phone. They meet for coffee. Decide to go on a real date. Things go well and they see a little more of each other. Soon they are wheelchair boyfriend and wheelchair girlfriend. They start having some hot wheelchair sex. They fall in love. Get engaged. More hot wheelchair sex. A wheelchair wedding.

Then Bam!! One night they have hot unprotected wheelchair sex, and she gets pregnant. Do I really want to be responsible for that? I mean god love 'em, I think wheelchair babies are the cutest, really I do, but I see what wheelchair bound people go thru day in and day out---well mainly I see what I put them thru.

Like have you ever put vaseline all over that bar in the public toilet, and just wait for one of them to slip and slide on it? That's awesome. Or simply throw 2x4's on the ground in front and in back of them as they cross an intersection. Or loosen all the screws on the thing so when they move it all collapses?

So, naturally, don't want to be responsible for bringing another, wheelchair person into this cold cruel hell hole world of ours.

Self-Defense

At work the subject of carrying concealed guns came up and I asked a female coworker if she would get a concealed gun. She goes "Well I don't need a gun, because thanks to the grace of god, determination, and Billy Blanks I have the most destructive form of self defense know to man: Hi-yaa Taebo!! Ain't no man gonna rape me now."

I started unzipping my pants to rape her right there. Just to make a point. But I didn't because #1--I'm not a rapist, and #2, most importantly, she is so fat and ugly I didnt think i could maintain an erection thru the entirety of it. In lieu of raping her I said, "Well I think your right no one is going to rape you, but not because of taebo--its mainly because of your acned dog's face atop your 412 lb frame. Of course the goatee you have going is a pretty good deterrent to being raped as well. Maybe, just maybe if you shave, lose 270 pounds and get $10,000 worth of plastic surgery, then, just maybe; you will need self defense. Until then, well, you fearing rape is like some one who doesnt even own a car carrying around a spare gas can and tire so they dont run out of gas or get a flat. Your worrying about a problem that doesn't exist. You worrying about being raped is like the amish worrying about Y2K. It wasn't really a problem for them. Not to many amish were running around all distraught over how Y2K is going to affect them.

'Oh my god Ishmael!! We need to solve Y2K. I mean what happens new years day when we wake up and the butter churn doesnt work. Or what if our horse carriage won't run, or maybe all our barns will fall down.'

No, it wasn't a worry of theirs. And for ugly fat chicks with mustaches fear of being raped is the least thing to worry about.

Special Olympics
(excerpt)

So there I am, its now the finals, and I am in a zone, i am just totally focused right. Concentrating. Focusing. Visualizing. Mentally Preparing myself for the biggest race of my life. The runner next to me is this 6 foot 5 cowboy with encephilitus, it was a retarded hick with a big head, quite literally. We stood shoulder to shoulder but he's got this enormous head that makes him 6'5 and he has this ten gallon cowboy hat on that 50 gallon head of his.

Then Buckaroo Bighead starts talking trash to me before the race trying to psych me out. He swaggers up to me trying to keep his huge head balanced on his shoulders with out tipping over, and I can hear the brain fluid swishing around inside the ginormous melon of his. He goes "Listen here you redheaded red haired redhead, I'm gonna beat you and beat you bad. You're going down carrot top."

I just blow him off at first. But then I remembered Brett was in the audience he probably had some money riding on the race, and I owed him big time anyway, and I didn't want someone with poor sportsmanship to beat me in a race--and maybe it was just her lazy eye staring off into nowwhere, but I think the down's syndrome girl with the underbite was giving me a look. I think she liked me.

And you know what they say about a girl with a severe underbite? Huh? Right? Yeah, its hard for them to eat corn on the cob. I don't know. What did you hear? That's the story I got.

And even if its hard for her to eat corn on the cob I didnt want to look like a stooge in front of her. But then I realized something. The special olympics aren't about looking good, or some individual shining brighter than another. The Special Olympics aren't about individual achievment. It's not about just one of us winning. Its about us, us as Special Olympians as a whole, coming together and accomplishing things together. Together, not individually. Its not about "me", or "I", or "you". It's about "us" and "we".

Its not just about Underbite Angie, its not just about the guy with the humpback and clubfoot, its not all about that kid in the wheelchair who was eating from his colostomy bag. No. Its about all of them--all of us. Its about us, us as special people coming together and overcoming our "physical limitations". Its about triumph, its about...

Then i remembered I'm not a god damn retard. And I took off like a bat out of hell. I went so fast the suction I created just sucked the glass eyes out of 4 contestants and sent them rolling across the track, tripping the contestants with peg arms and legs sending the prosethis hurtling into the innocent crowd that had gatherd. I smoked them all and never looked back as I won the Western Missouri Regional Gold Medal in the 50 yard dash.

Thank you. Thank you very much. I had to give the medal to Brett because I owed him, but i still got my name in the paper and will forever be a champion. Plus it looks really great on a resume.

Lick my dingledberried cockshaft.