All his
life Sailor Jack had a fantasy about fucking a whore with his big toe. He
searched for many years and finally found one who was willing to try this
ridiculous sex act. Enjoying himself immensely, he at last fulfilled his
fantasy.
After a
few days, the toe began to swell. It was very painful. His doctor told him
after an examination that he had syphilis of the big toe…
"Isn't
that unusual?"
… Jack asked
…
"Not
really, I had a lady in here this morning with athlete's cunt!"
( Fin )
Another Sailor'n Shanty that will make your mother blush. Also known as Lupe or Down in Cunt Valley ... I hope you enjoy...
Twas
down in Twat valley
Where maidenheads grow
Where cocksuckers flourish
And the red river flows
Twas there I met Lulu
The girl I adore
That hare fucking c-o-o-ck-sucking whore
She’ll
fuck you and suck you
She'll gnaw on your nuts
And if you’re not careful
She'll suck out your guts.
She'll
fuck for a nickel
Take less or take more
That hard fucking c-o-o-ck-sucking
Mexican whore.
Now
Lulu is [dead]
She lies in her tomb
The flies and the maggots
Crawl around in her womb
But
from that dark region
She cries out for more
That hard fucking c-o-o-ck-sucking
Mexican Whore
( Fin )
Here are
a few for your enjoyment…
Did you hear the one about Captain Hornblower?
He dreamed he was shipwrecked on an emerald isle with a thousand beautiful hula girls and he woke up with his mast in his hand and a jellyfish in his navel …
In the days of buggery in the old Royal Navy, S.O.S. was an old Navy term that meant,
“Stoop Over, Sport!”
If shrimp come in on a shrimp boat, do crabs come
in on the Captain’s dinghy?
What
happens if you confine a Typical Enlisted Sailor to quarters with a 2-foot
diameter ball bearing?
He will
either break it or get it pregnant.
( Fin )
I might
be stepping on some toes and starting a forest fire, but I guess, I'm just an
old-fashioned codger who seems out-of-step with the times as I fail to understand
the modern changes accepted as "progress.” There seems to be too much
social engineering, feel-good policies, massive loss of tradition, and a whole
different vocabulary on gender and race in the name of CRT or some sort of
equity. It’s hard to recognize the ol’ Canoe Club with every other shipmate
wearing pink panties and lipstick out on liberty.
I served
with gay shipmates back in my day and in general, I didn’t care one iota what a
shipmate's sexual orientation or preference was… none of my business. The
problem today is they want to make it everyone’s business and you better-gauddamned fall in line or else. Now we got a Transgender being selected into a
political position wearing an Admiral uniform heaving her arms out on the podium
like the haunches of a well-fed hippo and demanding we accept the social
engineering of fifty-three genders to the point you can’t get the VA to pay for
your back pain but if you want your twig and berries lopped off, its bought and
paid for by Uncle Sam at a moment’s notice… no questions asked!
The focus
shifted from helping the downtrodden to browbeating everyone else. Heterosexual white males in
positions of authority tremble in fear of charges of harassment while they’re protecting
careers and rears, and that seems more important than protecting the country. We
don't fight nations anymore. Instead, we find ourselves "at war" with
hard-to-pin-down religious concepts, oddball ideas, and unhinged zealots. We
can't fully define what victory looks like or explain to mothers what their
sons died for. Instead, we pull out of Afghanistan with the job unfinished while
the Taliban takes over and makes fools out of us.
This
whole new movement, in my opinion, isn’t even about equity, but instead seems to
be driven by revenge, power, domination and the humiliation of straight
white men. It’s highbrow water-boarding if I’d ever seen it. I know… I know…
some of you feel this is totally worthless garbage talk and I should be banned,
tarred, and feathered for voicing my views. After all, I’m a straight white male
who must be a chauvinist for leering at any woman’s tits!
When I
was in the ol’ Canoe Club, I got to experience the joy of seeing the first women on
combat ships. It really was alright in the beginning. If you asked a gal for a
blowjob she told you that was a silly name for oral sex…
“Anyone
who tells you he likes to get blown is just trying to feed you some hot air …
wise up, or he’ll make a sucker out of you.”
Female
sailors were fun to be around, and they had the vernacular to match any savvy
sailor. I remember a really cute gal checked onboard and one of the other
females telling me…
“She
claims to be a virgin but she’s dropped more drawers than a sloppy dressmaker!”
But in
today’s Navy, there seems to be a bandsaw edge to the disgruntled genders, as they watch for any
slight so that they can show that they aren´t going to take it while they huff
and puff and show their indignant feeling of dissent over the actions in which they
disapprove. These young sailors elect to have a good cry and the Chief will
murmur support into their ears instead of taking any corrective action.
It’s not
a wonder the military is in shambles. Morale is lousy, officers are bailing
out, and recruiting is down, all largely because of social engineering. Nobody will
do squat about it, because that would require bucking the progressives and
their fifty-three genders of whom they are terrified.
I have in
mind training bras for the boys and maybe penis-shaped flag poles. Just
imagine, a penis flag pole might double as a PRC antenna, and you could fly the
rainbow flag from it since the Ensign is considered sexist, racist, or whatever
the “ist” of the day may be.
From the berthing
compartments come prancing men in dresses and panties, the surgically altered
inverts, and sadomasochistic enthusiasts. It’s like the ol’ Wog Queen ceremony
but on a much grander scale. I wish I was kidding, but it ain’t the ol’ Canoe
Club we were accustomed to.
I have no
problems with what consenting adults choose to do or sleep with on their own
time. They can sleep with the sheep or any other farm animal for all I care but
I don’t need to know about it. It’s when they force their opinions and ideas
onto others and demand they bend the knee that bothers me. Like Forrest Gump…
“That’s
all I got to say about that…”
One day a handsome Sailor, Santa Claus, a heterosexual
Marine, and the Easter Bunny were playing a game of high-stakes poker. The pot
grew and grew until it contained several thousand dollars. Suddenly the lights
went out, and when they came back on, the money was gone. Who took it?
The answer should be obvious … It was the handsome Sailor!
There is no such thing as Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. And there sure as hell ain't no such thing as a heterosexual Marine!
🤣😂🤣⚓
Here I have assembled a series of various pulp art pics representing sailors on the high seas. I hope you enjoy these pieces of art…
Two
sailors were leaving the burlesque show when one says to the other…
“Hey, I
think my hat is missing.”
… to
which the other replies …
“No it
isn’t Joe, it’s hanging on your lap.”
As a
Firecontrolman, Gunnersmates were like brothers from another mother… like a
wicked stepmother, with armpit hair, and bad manners! I hope you all enjoy
these lovable toons of the Navy Gunnersmate in action…
Two sailors
had been stranded adrift on a life raft for over a week and hadn’t very much
hope left. Seaman Joe began to pray. He prayed that if his life were spared, he
would never again…
“Wait a
minute Joe.”
… says Moe …
“Don’t go too
far, I think I see land!”
In America’s pinup heyday, back in the golden age of the 1940s and 50s, there were many great pinup artists such as Erol Moran, Enoch Buells, Peter Driben, and not to forget Alberto Vargas among so many others. The pictures of smiling women in suspicious situations would adorn the lockers of many a serviceman rather it be Army, Navy, Air Force, or Marines. Sometimes they even made it on the sides of planes or gun turrets. Here we have some nautical beauties imitating the art of the greats. I hope you enjoy…
