The year is 2222 and Mike and Maureen land on Mars after accumulating enough Frequent Flier miles.
They meet a Martian couple and are talking about all sorts of things. Mike asks if Mars has a stock market, if they have laptop computers, how they make money, etc.
Finally, Maureen brings up the subject of sex.
'Just how do you guys do it?' asks Maureen.
The Martian responds, 'Pretty much the way you do..'
A discussion ensues and finally the couples decide to swap partners for the night and experience one another. Maureen and the male Martian go off to a bedroom where the Martian strips. He's got only a teeny, weenie weenie about half an inch long and just a quarter-inch thick..
'I don't think this is going to work,' says Maureen.
'Why?' he asks. 'What's the matter?'
'Well,' she replies, 'it's just not long enough to reach me!'
'No problem,' he says, and proceeds to slap his forehead with his palm. With each slap of his forehead, his member grows until it's quite impressively long.
'Well,' she says, 'that's quite impressive, but it is still narrow.'
'No problem,' he says, and starts pulling his ears. With each pull, his member grows wider and wider until the entire measurement is extremely exciting to the woman.
'Wow!' she exclaimed, as they fell into bed and made mad passionate love.
The next day the couples rejoin their other partners and go their separate ways. As they walked along, Mike asks, 'Well, was it any good?'
'I hate to say it,' says Maureen, 'but it was wonderful. How about you?'
'It was horrible,' he replies. 'All I got was a headache. She kept slapping my forehead and pulling my ears.'
Your source for off the wall humor.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Martian Sex
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- da-Captain
- I am the Captain of what you might ask. Am I a has been or do I serve a task? Oh, I sail now and then, drank rum from the cask. I'm now beached on the hard, dreaming of visits to ports, from the sea I'm barred and off even keel of sorts. My helm locked and marred as my body grows warts. When next comes Spring, heaven will rain my mana and sea song I will sing, while keeping beat with a banana. The ships bell will again ring at launch time for the Manana. Cast the lines - raise the sails, chart a course for any place. Rig the ship for mighty gales, take all storms right in my face. Fear not what make good sea tales, Captain again - gleams on my face.
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