New Rule: Stop giving me that pop-up ad for classmates.com! There’s a reason you don’t talk to people for 25 years. Because you don’t particularly like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days: mowing my lawn.

New Rule: Don’t eat anything that’s served to you out a window unless you’re a seagull. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of Wendy’s chili. Hey, it cost less than a dollar. What did you expect it to contain? Trout?!?!?

New Rule: Stop saying that teenage boys who have sex with their hot, blonde teachers are permanently damaged. I have a better description for these kids: lucky bastards.

New Rule: If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you’re a dope. If you’re a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols. If you’re a grown man, they’re pictures of men.

New Rule: Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here’s how much men care about your eyebrows: do you have two of them? Okay, we’re done.

New Rule: There’s no such thing as flavored water. There’s a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket, water, but without that watery taste. Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink. You want flavored water? Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That’s your flavored water.

New Rule: Stop fucking with old people. Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that’s square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the bottom. And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.

New Rule: The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the asshole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a “decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n’-Low and one NutraSweet,” oooooh, you’re a huge asshole.

New Rule: I’m not the cashier! By the time I look up from sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing “Enter,” verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don’t want cash back, and pressing “Enter” again, the kid who is supposed to be ringing me up is standing there eating my Almond Joy.

New Rule: Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn’t make you spiritual. It’s right above the crack of your ass. And it translates to “beef with broccoli.” The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren’t pregnant. You’re not spiritual. You’re just high.

New Rule: Competitive eating isn’t a sport. It’s one of the seven deadly sins. ESPN recently televised the US Open of Competitive Eating, because watching those athletes at the poker table was just too damned exciting. What’s next, competitive farting? Oh wait. They’re already doing that. It’s called “The Howard Stern Show.”

New Rule: I don’t need a bigger mega M&M. If I’m extra hungry for M&Ms, I’ll go nuts and eat two.

New Rule: If you’re going to insist on making movies based on crappy, old television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what’s playing on the other screens. Let’s remember the reason something was a television show in the first place is that the idea wasn’t good enough to be a movie.

New Rule: No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for weddings. Now it’s for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab. Picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn’t gift giving, it’s the white people version of looting.

New Rule: and this one is long overdue: No more bathroom attendants. After I zip up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex with George Michael. I can’t even tell if he’s supposed to be there, or just some freak with a fetish. I don’t want to be on your webcam, dude. I just want to wash my hands.

New Rule: When I ask how old your toddler is, I don’t need to know in months. “27 Months.” “He’s two,” will do just fine. He’s not a cheese. And I didn’t really care in the first place.

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Ready for funny shit that everyone else has already read, loved and possibly forgotten to send you ‘cuz they were too busy instant messaging your mom? Check out the most read Simply Frogg Pages for September of 2007!

(1) Free MySpace Comments Index Page

(2) Simply Frogg Jokes Index Page

(3) Simply Frogg Pictures Index Page

(4) Clit Diagram for Men and Child Terrorist

(5) Lesbian keg party kissng girls, bondage bears, and man with pier pole jammed up his ass

(6) Truth about male/female conversations, cloning stops beastiality, coldest cab ever

(7) Soccer player grabs another player’s crotch, alligator wants to come inside, kid gets dragged away from MySpace by father

(8) Stoner Smurf, big nuts squirrel has a beer, and squirrels are nature’s little speedbumps

(9) Passed out drunk squirrel, Hoover products suck and Haze the pitbull

(10) Measuring her saggy boobs, naked senior citizens in conga line, and a kitty wrapped up in a towel

Tune in next time as we stick turkey basters up our rear ends and snort marbles through cocktail straws!

- blakk frogg

In Pharmacology, all drugs have two names, a trade name and generic name. For example, the trade name of Tylenol also has a generic name of Acetaminophen. Aleve is also called Naproxen. Amoxil is also call Amoxicillin and Advil is also called Ibuprofen.

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The FDA has been looking for a generic name for Viagra. After careful consideration by a team of government experts, it recently announced that it has settled on the generic name of Mycoxafloppin. Also considered were Mycoxafailin, Mydixadrupin, Mydixarizin, Dixafix, and of course, Ibepokin.

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Pfizer Corp. announced today that Viagra will soon be available in liquid form, and will be marketed by Pepsi Cola as a power beverage suitable for use as a mixer. It will now be possible for a man to literally pour himself a stiff one. Obviously we can no longer call this a soft drink, and it gives new meaning to the names of “cocktails”, “highballs” and just a good old-fashioned “stiff drink”.

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Pepsi will market the new concoction by the name of: MOUNT & DO. Thought for the day: There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra today than on Alzheimer’s research. This means that by 2040, there should be a large elderly population with perky boobs and huge erections and absolutely no recollection of what to do with them.

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Find other strange and unusual ’sex-related’ comments and jokes on Simply Frogg.

A RUSSIAN AND A REDNECK WRESTLER WERE SET TO SQUARE OFF FOR THE OLYMPIC GOLD MEDAL. BEFORE THE FINAL MATCH, THE REDNECK WRESTLER’S TRAINER CAME TO HIM AND SAID, “NOW, DON’T FORGET ALL THE RESEARCH WE’VE DONE ON THIS RUSSIAN. HE’S NEVER LOST A MATCH BECAUSE OF THIS ‘PRETZEL’ HOLD HE HAS. WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT LET HIM GET YOU IN THAT HOLD! IF HE DOES, YOU’RE FINISHED”;

THE REDNECK NODDED IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT.

AS THE MATCH STARTED, THE REDNECK AND THE RUSSIAN CIRCLED EACH OTHER SEVERAL TIMES, LOOKING FOR AN OPENING.

ALL OF A SUDDEN, THE RUSSIAN LUNGED FORWARD, GRABBING THE REDNECK AND WRAPPING HIM UP IN THE DREADED PRETZEL HOLD. A SIGH OF DISAPPOINTMENT AROSE FROM THE CROWD AND THE TRAINER BURIED HIS FACE IN HIS HANDS, FOR HE KNEW ALL WAS LOST. HE COULDN’T WATCH THE INEVITABLE HAPPEN.

SUDDENLY, THERE WAS A SCREAM, THEN A CHEER FROM THE CROWD AND THE TRAINER RAISED HIS EYES JUST IN TIME TO WATCH THE RUSSIAN GO FLYING UP IN THE AIR. HIS BACK HIT THE MAT WITH A THUD AND THE REDNECK COLLAPSED ON TOP OF HIM MAKING THE PIN AND WINNING THE MATCH.

THE TRAINER WAS ASTOUNDED. WHEN HE FINALLY GOT HIS WRESTLER ALONE, HE ASKED, “HOW DID YOU EVER GET OUT OF THAT HOLD? NO ONE HAS EVER DONE IT BEFORE!”

THE WRESTLER ANSWERED “WELL, I WAS READY TO GIVE UP WHEN HE GOT ME IN THAT HOLD BUT AT THE LAST MOMENT, I OPENED MY EYES AND SAW THIS PAIR OF TESTICLES RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE. I HAD NOTHING TO LOSE SO WITH MY LAST OUNCE OF STRENGTH I STRETCHED OUT MY NECK AND BIT THOSE BABIES JUST AS HARD AS I COULD.”

SO THE TRAINER EXCLAIMED, “THAT’S WHAT FINISHED HIM OFF?!?!”

“NOT REALLY. YOU’D BE AMAZED HOW STRONG YOU GET WHEN YOU BITE YOUR OWN NUTS.”

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Blakk Frogg strongly advises against biting one’s own balls. That shit sounds quite….. painful.

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