Most Important

One day the different parts of the body were having an argument to see which should be in charge. The brain said "I do all the thinking so I'm the most important and I should be in charge." The eyes said "I see everything and let the rest of you know where we are, so I'm the most important and I should be in charge." The hands said "Without me we wouldn't be able to pick anything up or move anything. So I'm the most important and I should be in charge." The stomach said "I turn the food we eat into energy for the rest of you. Without me, we'd starve. So I'm the most important and I should be in charge." The legs said "Without me we wouldn't be able to move anywhere. So I'm the most important and I should be in charge." Then the rectum said "I think I should be in charge." All the rest of the parts said "YOU?!? You don't do anything! You're not important! You can't be in charge." So the rectum closed up. After a few days, the legs were all wobbly, the stomach was all queasy, the hands were all shaky, the eyes were all watery, and the brain was all cloudy. They all agreed that they couldn't take any more of this and agreed to put the rectum in charge. Today's lesson: You don't have to be the most important to be in charge, just an asshole.

At Least One

You might be a redneck if you can't take a nap without at least one hand tucked inside your pants.

Indian TP

Back in the days of cowboys and Indians, toilet paper had just been invented. An Indian, unaware of the new invention, was amazed when he saw a cowboy using it out in the woods. Instead of scalping the cowboy, he offers to let him live if he tells the Indian where he can get some toilet paper. And the cowboy told the Indian about a trading post in the middle of the forest. The next day, the Indian was looking over the different types of toilet paper and asked the clerk how much the Soft and Gentle was. "That'd be $2.50" said the clerk. "Too much." mumbled the Indian, "How about the 'Gentle'?" "That one's $2," answered the clerk. "Still too much," complained the Indian, "anything cheaper?" "Well," replied the clerk, "We do have a generic kind." "What generic mean?" asked the Indian. "It means it doesn't have a name, and it's only 50 cents." "Me take that." said the Indian. The next day, the Indian returns to the trading post and tells the clerk, "Me have name for generic toilet paper." "Oh," says the clerk, "What's the name?" "Me call it John Wayne... it's rough, tough and it take no crap from Indian."