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These two guys are car pooling home from work one day. Traffic is barely crawling along and they are both a bit bored. So the driver is looking around and suddenly he points at two dogs having sex on someone's front lawn.

"Look", he shouts "What are the those dogs doing? are they fighting?"

The passenger, being a man of the world, replies "They are having sex. Don't tell me that you have never had sex doggie style before?"

The driver, a bit embarrassed, admits that he has never had sex doggie style. So the passenger says, "You have to try it. Its pretty cool. Here's what you do. Tonight when you get home, fix your wife a margarita and then suggest that you want to try this new sexual position."

The driver thinks a bit and then decides he will give it a try. The next morning, the two commuters are back in the car and the passenger asks, "Well, how did it go?"

To which the driver replies, "It was great. But it took me 6 Margaritas just to get her on the front lawn.""

QUICK JOKE II

A young single guy is on a cruise ship, having the time of his life. On the second day of the cruise, the ship slams into an iceberg and begins to sink. Passengers around him are screaming, flailing, and drowning but our guy manages to grab on to a piece of driftwood and, using every last ounce of strength, swims a few miles through the shark-infested sea to a remote island.

Sprawled on the shore nearly passed out from exhaustion, he turns his head and sees a woman lying near him, unconscious, barely breathing. She's also managed to wash up on shore from the sinking ship. He makes his way to her, and with some mouth-to-mouth assistance he manages to get her breathing again. She looks up at him, wide-eyed and grateful and says, "My God, you saved my life!"

He suddenly realizes the woman is Cindy Crawford!

Days and weeks go by. Cindy and our guy are living on the island together. They've set up a hut, there's fruit on the trees, and they're in heaven. Cindy's fallen madly in love with our man, and they're making passionate love morning, noon and night.

Alas, one day she notices he's looking kind of glum. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" she asks, "We have a wonderful life together, I'm in love with you. Is there something wrong? Is there anything I can do?"

He says, "Actually, Cindy, there is. Would you mind, putting on my
shirt?"

"Sure," she says, "if it will help." He takes off his shirt and she puts it on.

"Now would you put on my pants?" he asks.

"Sure, honey, if it's really going to make you feel better," she says.

"Okay, would you put on my hat now, and draw a little mustache on your face?" he asks.

"Whatever you want, sweetie," she says, and does.

Then he says, "Now, would you start walking around the edge of the island?"

She starts walking around the perimeter of the island. He sets off in the other direction. They meet up half way around the island a few minutes later. He rushes up to her, grabs her by the shoulders, and says, "Dude! You'll never believe who I'm sleeping with!""

QUICK JOKE III

A priest is walking down the street one day when he notices a very small boy trying to press a doorbell on a house across the street. However, the boy is very small and the doorbell is too high for him to reach.

After watching the boys efforts for some time, the priest moves closer to the boys position. He steps smartly across the street, walks up behind the little fellow and, placing his hand kindly on the child's shoulder leans over and gives the doorbell a sold ring.

Crouching down to the child's level, the priest smiles benevolently and asks, "And now what, my little man?"

GOT JOKE?

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Dear Donner,

hi my name is jesica ,

i go to school in whitton called nelson primary school and i've seen a ghost ..

i am going to tell you where ..,,
there is an air rad shelter in our school and i saw 1 there ....
the truth is that i think it came from the war ...

thanx for reading my letter ..

~Jesica

Not to belittle your experience which I am sure was very life-changing and moving, but tell me... how fucking stupid do you have to be to misspell your own name? Just curious.

To write Donner, ask him a question, or seriously piss him off, visit the message board, guestbook, or write to him directly.

I went to my first fancy restaurant this last Sunday. No, I'm not talking a classy joint like Applebees or Cheddars or even that really fancy Cracker Barrel place, I mean a nice place. One where the food costs more than a DVD player.

I am not going to rip on this place, though. I'm not going to do it because it was some of the best damned food I've ever crammed down my gullet.

The place is called The Melting Pot and it's a fondue place. In case you've never heard of a place like this, it's one of those restaurants where they give you a pot of hot cheese and break, then a pot of broth and flavorings, and then a pot of chocolate and you dip various breads, vegetables, and meats in them.

Sweet merciful Allah, this place was heaven. I swear to God, angels were in the kitchen making minimum wage.

Of course, a place like this gets my curiosity going wild. You see, I have little confidence in the general intelligence of my fellow human beings - being a high school teacher will do that to you - and I began to wonder as I often do. How many fondue-related injuries are there in a given month at a place like this?

I don't mean the little things like a waitress broad saying, "Oh, phooey, I burned myself on this pot!" or anything like that. I want to know how many scalding pots of boiling oil have been dumped into laps. How many mouths have been seared by people sticking freshly cooked vittles into their mouths. How many eyes are accidentally removed with fondue forks every year?

I'm sure that the number is higher than what The Melting Pot would like us to believe. I'm sure that they're constantly paying off customers every day to keep lawsuits from popping up. Hell, I bet that's why the food is so goddamned expensive. Why else would a pot of broth and some meat cost me and my wife 120 bucks?

This of course got me considering... would a million dollar payoff be worth "accidentally" pouring a vat of molten chocolate into my lap? After all, I do hate working for a living and would much rather spend my time doing nothing to benefit humanity - I know that sounds selfish, but given how much damage I do to humanity by leaving the house, it would be a wash. Could I really deal with the pain for a check to easy street?

But then I remembered how much I love my nuts and quickly exiled the thought from my head.

During the Great Depression, there was a man who walked into a bar one day. He went up to the bartender and said, "Bartender, I'd like to buy the house a round of drinks."

The bartender said, "That's fine, but we're in the middle of the Depression, so I'll need to see some money first."

The guy pulled out a huge wad of bills and set them on the bar. The bartender can't believe what he's seeing. "Where did you get all that money?" asked the bartender.

"I'm a professional gambler," replied the man.

The bartender said, "There's no such thing! I mean, your odds are fifty-fifty at best, right?"

"Well, I only bet on sure things," said the guy.

"Like what?" asked the bartender.

"Well, for example, I'll bet you fifty dollars that I can bite my right eye," he said.

The bartender thought about it. "Okay," he said.

So, the guy pulled out his false right eye and bit it. "Aw, you screwed me," said the bartender, and paid the guy his $50.

"I'll give you another chance. I'll bet you another fifty dollars that I can bite my left eye," said the stranger.

The bartender thought again and said, "Well, I know you're not blind, I mean, I watched you walk in here. I'll take that bet." So, the guy pulled out his false teeth and bit his left eye.

"Aw, you screwed me again!" protested the bartender.

"That's how I win so much money, bartender. I'll just take a bottle of your best scotch in lieu of the fifty dollars," said the man.

With that, the guy went to the back room and spent the better part of the night playing cards with some of the locals. After many hours of drinking and card playing, he stumbled up to the bar. Drunk as a skunk, he said, "Bartender, I'll give you one last chance. I'll bet you five hundred dollars that I can stand on this bar on one foot and piss into that whiskey bottle on that shelf behind you without spilling a drop."

The bartender once again pondered the bet. The guy couldn't even stand up straight on two feet, much less one. "Okay, you're on," he said.

The guy climbed up on the bar, stood on one leg, and began pissing all over the place. He hit the bar, the bartender, himself, but not a drop made it into the whiskey bottle.

The bartender was ecstatic. Laughing, the bartender said, "Hey pal, you owe me five hundred dollars!"

The guy climbed down off the bar and said, "That's okay. I just bet each of the guys in the card room a thousand bucks each that I could piss all over you and the bar and still make you laugh!"

QUICK JOKE II

There is a story about a certain bookmaker who was making a long trip by car when towards nightfall he happened upon an inn which had a most unusual name, The Even Steven. Since it was located in the middle of a desolate stretch of country, and he didn't know how much farther the next place would be, he decided to stop there for the night, and satisfy his curiosity about the name at the same time.

"It's very simple, really," the proprietor explained. "You see, my name is Steven Even. So I just decided to turn it around and call this The Even Steven. I thought if might get a few folks puzzled enough to stop and ask questions, and sometimes it does."

"That's a pretty smart way to use the luck of a name," said the bookie appreciatively. "I bet it brings you a lot of business."

"It hasn't brought me so much luck," he said. "The folks who stop here don't stay long. There's not much gaiety around here, as you could see. In fact, there's not another soul lives closer than thirty miles away, whichever way you go. Makes it pretty lonely for me, a widower. And worse still for my daughters. Three of the loveliest girls you ever set eyes on, should have their pick of boy friends. But, they are getting so frustrated they're about to do anything for a man."

The bookie made sympathetic noises, and listened to more in the same vein until hunger obliged him to change the subject to that of food. An excellent home-cooked dinner was served to him by a gorgeous blonde who introduced herself as Blanche Even; and when he was surfeited she still kept pressing him to ask for anything else he wanted.

Finally, she said, "Would you like me to sit and talk to you for a while?"

"Thank you," he said politely, "but I've had a long day and I feel like closing the book."

He went to his room and had just started to undress when there was a knock at the door and an absolutely breath-taking brunette came in.

"I'm Carmen Even," she said. "I just wanted to see if you'd got everything you want."

"I think so, thank you," he said pleasantly. "I do a lot of traveling, so I pack very systematically."

When he had finally convinced her and got rid of her, he climbed in between the sheets and was preparing to read himself to sleep over the Racing Form when the door opened again to admit an utterly stupefying redhead in a negligee to end all negligees.

"I'm Ginger Even," she announced. "I wanted to be sure your bed was comfortable."

"It is," he assured her.

"I hope you're not just being tactful," she insisted. "May I try it myself?"

"If you must," said the bookie primly. "I will get out while you do it."

When she had gone, he settled down with a sigh of relief and was about to put out the light at last when the door burst open once more and the proprietor himself stomped in, glowing with indignation.

"What's the matter with you," he roared. "I got to listen all night to my daughters moaning an' wailing, the most luscious gals in this county, because they all try to show you hospitality an' you won't give one of 'em a tumble. Ain't us Evens good enough for you?"

"I'm sorry," said the transient. "But I told you when I registered, I'm a professional bookmaker. I only lay Odds."

QUICK JOKE III

A beautiful, voluptuous woman goes to a gynecologist. The doctor takes one look at this woman and all his professionalism goes out the window.

Right away he tells her to undress. After she has disrobed he begins to stroke her thigh. As he does this he says to the woman, "Do you know what I'm doing?"

"Yes," she says, "you're checking for any abrasions or dermatological abnormalities."

"That is right," says the doctor. He then begins to fondle her breasts.

"Do you know what I'm doing now?" he says.

"Yes," says the woman, "you're checking for any lumps or breast cancer."

"Correct," replies the doctor. He then begins to have sexual intercourse with the woman. He says to her, "Do you know what I'm doing now?"

"Yes," she says. "You're getting herpes."

Dear Donner,

I've read all of your LoLa stories (More then once each) and wanted to ask three questions.

1. Why do you portray Reyes as a slut? She doesn't give me that vibe at all.
2. Why do you portray Doggett as a homo? He doesn't give me that vibe at all.
3. WHERE'S THE NEXT LOLA STORY BITCH!?

That is all.

~Monica

1. You can't tell me that you don't think Reyes got that job on The X-Files without doing a little horizontal auditioning if you know what I mean.
2. You can't tell me that Doggett didn't get that job on The X-Files without blowing someone.
3. That depends on what sexual favor you are willing to do.

To write Donner, ask him a question, or seriously piss him off, visit the message board, guestbook, or write to him directly.

Happy Thanksgiving one and all and if you don't live in the USA and have no clue about this holiday, sucks to be you! Suffer through this blog entry, you undeserving outsiders!

You see, non-residents of the United States and various illegal immigrants in our very ranks, Thanksgiving is the day when all Americans ritualistically sacrifice a large, stupid, flightless bird to commemorate the day that Pilgrims came to America and began the slow and painful extermination of the natives eventually driving them off of their lands and onto reservations with casinos to placate their white masters.

Personally, though, that's not the thing that bothers me. Hey, my family comes from Germany so genocide barely registers on my radar. What bothers me is the fact that we're all descended from Pilgrims who are undoubtedly the most prudish people on the planet and thusly, spawned a rather prudish nation.

We'll go to war and bomb the shit out of you in a second. After all, we love violence as long as there are no exposed breasts or peni anywhere.

If there is one thing I can't stand about being an American, it's how uptight we are. I've recently been turned on to BBC America and have become a big fan of the show Torchwood and, despite the fact I want to run Owen over with a riding lawnmower, I marvel at this show... no, not the dark storylines with aliens and junk, but rather the live and loose use of the word "shit", "fuck", and various nudity.

Is all British TV like this? I mean, what the fuck? Did the Pilgrims leave England or did you kick them out for being too uptight?

If this is the case, I say it's long past the time that the uptight prudes are kicked out again. Let's round up George W. Bush, Pat Robertson, and the rest of the family values circus, put them on a boat, and point them in the direction of a land with unsuspecting natives they can all wipe out.

I'm thinking India... not really because I hate India, just telemarketers and tech support.

When all of the Pilgrims are gone, we can lower ourselves to England's standards, allow all the smut we want on TV, and roll around in the mud naked and making love to anyone who crosses our paths. It'll be like Lindsey Lohan's place on a Monday night!

I'm pretty sure I've gone off on a tangent, so let me just say one last time - Happy Thanksgiving to all Americans and everyone else can fuck the fuck off!

A little boy goes to his dad and asks, "What is politics?"

Dad says, "Well son, let me try to explain it this way: I'm the breadwinner of the family, so let's call me Capitalism. Your Mom, she's the administrator of the money, so we'll call her the Government. We're here to take care of your needs, so we'll call you the People. The nanny, we'll consider her the Working Class. And your baby brother, we'll call him the Future. Now, think about that and see if that makes sense."

So the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what Dad has said. Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has severely soiled his diaper. So the little boy goes to his parents' room and finds his mother sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny's room. Finding the door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed.

The next morning, the little boy says to his father, "Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now."

The father says, "Good son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about."

The little boy replies, "Well, while Capitalism is screwing the Working Class, the Government is sound asleep, the People are being ignored and the Future is in deep shit."

QUICK JOKE II

There was a young man in the Air Force who was so well- endowed that it was bothering his knee. Three Air Force doctors and one Air Force nurse were in the operating room to remedy the situation. The first doctor said, "We'll just take a big hunk off the end." They discussed it and decided that would affect his sensitivity.

The second doctor said, "We'll just take a big hunk out of the middle of it." They discussed this, and decided it would change the texture and feel of it.

The third doctor said, "We'll just take a big hunk off the base of it." They discussed this, too, and agreed that it might give him erection problems.

The doctors heard a sniffling, and looked over at the nurse who had tears running down her cheeks. The nurse cried, "Can't we just make his legs longer?"

QUICK JOKE III

A middle aged man walks into the bank and says to the young teller, "I want to open a fucking checking account".

"I don't give a shit what you want," he answers, "I just want to open a fucking checking account."

With this the teller leaves and returns in a moment with her branch manager. The manager asks if he might be able to help the gentleman.

"Shit yes", came the reply, "I just won 14 million dollars in the lottery and want to open a fucking checking account."

The branch manager says, "I see, and this stupid fucking, bitch is giving you a hard time?""

Dear Donner,

wala hoya ka manananggal patyon taka dead na dead ka bord o key kokey gago hala ka! pre zombie so long mga potyong atras mga paltak .

~Zombie

To write Donner, ask him a question, or seriously piss him off, visit the message board, guestbook, or write to him directly.

No, not the website troubles which I am seriously hoping will be over with very soon. Trust me, people, I am working on that!

I mean Thanksgiving. What a inconvenient and troubling time. Not only is everything rushed and stressful, but you have to put up with your family too and that's a crime in of itself.

This year, though, my family and I did something a little different and instead of meeting at my hometown for Thanksgiving (which is also a crime because it's the asshole of Texas), we decided to all meet in Colorado and enjoy Thanksgiving in the mountains.

I love Colorado. I really do. It's a lot like Texas, only more bumpy. Also it snows there which hardly ever happens here.

My wife and I flew up there which is a chore because apparently all airplanes are designed with the presumption that everyone in the world is 5'10" and less than two hundred pounds. When you're 6'2" and decidedly more than two hundred pounds, it's not a fun trip especially when you're seated next to some stranger who is also not in the airline's conformist frame.

Our stewardess did tell us that United offers something called Economy Plus for an extra twenty dollars that gives you an extra six inches of legroom. I tried it and it was nice, but I really need an extra six inches of ass room if you catch my drift.

So we fly out of DFW and into Denver. Have you ever seen Denver's airport? The terminal is crazy! It's like a giant tent got shit out of some enormous elephant and landed on top of a building! It's the ugliest goddamned building I've ever seen! Paint it yellow and white and I swear it would attract clowns!

It was so terrible, I saw it across the tarmac from the United Terminal and said, "Oh hell no, we've GOT to go take a look at that shit!" We even braved going through security again just to walk through the shit-awful looking terminal. Seriously, Denver, you should be ashamed of that thing.

Out of Denver we flew into Durango, Colorado. It was a lot smaller... I swear, the airport used to be a Walgreens until they put a runway in the back. This airport was so small that they actually had people picking up their luggage from the cart on the tarmac. I shit you not! "Welcome to Durango, y'all! Get your shit and get out of here!"

What's more, they had deer out in the parking lot! Deer! Just grazing on the grass as happy as you please. I tried to get a picture of them, but it was dark and the herd (yes, herd) had a ten-point buck with them and I'm not crazy enough to get close to that shit.

It did snow the last day I was there and it was beautiful... although it did make the drive down the mountain pass that much more interesting and by interesting I mean dangerous to the point of shitting my pants. But we made it home in one piece which was nice.

Promise to God, there will be a more substantial update next week. Between the site being down and Thanksgiving, I didn't have time to do shit!