Any Good Bottle Jokes

Just was wondering if anyone has any good bottle digging jokes to share []

A hooker, priest and a penguin get a hotel room for the night and ***** *****'s his **** while the penguin ****'s the ********** *****. The priest screams out ********* ****** ****!!! Olive oil is everywhere and the hooker starts to ***** her **** when in walks the manager who yells out, "YOU CALL THAT A PROBE!?!?!? <<<<< Insert rimshot here....Ha Cha Cha!!

Why are all the *'s in my post?

well i put my own words and it was side spliting...thanks

ORIGINAL: TJSJHART

well i put my own words and it was side spliting...thanks

Click to expand...

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"Hey check out my six pack" Sorry guys that all I could think of Ive got some good Mainer jokes(not for kids) though.

I have one, "The Tiz Bottle". Bit long, but good. Will post it soon.

I shortened it a bit, did not want to get too long on you.

The Tale of the Tiz bottle.........

Once upon a time, there was a very advanced bottle collector, perhaps the most advanced in the world, with a collection to match. Unknown and never before seen bottles were his pride and joy, seeking them out was the driving force in his life, his mission.
While chatting bottles one fine day while on holiday in a far off land, a passer-by stopped and inquired of the gentleman, "Do you have a Tiz bottle?".......
The savvy collector was taken aback, having only heard muttered rumors of such a bottle at the highest levels of the hobby, yet this stranger knew of it too.
A Tiz bottle? I must have it for my collection kept going through his mind. Finally he asked if the stranger could help him in his quest.
A deal was struck, and the pair of adventurers were off in their quest.
First chartering a small boat, they headed up stream, following the ancient landmarks, until the headwaters were reached. Unable to travel further by boat, the journey continued on foot. Despite the razor edge on the machetes, it was slow going through the thick jungle growth, with sore arms, and sweat dripping from their brows, they soldiered on.
At last, good fortune shinned on the pair, an ancient pathway slowly made itself known despite the near impenetrable jungle. Following the pathway, the journey became easier. Leading them out of the jungle, the footpath began to ascend into the foothills of the mountains which loomed ahead.
Skirting rock falls, fording ice cold streams, they ventured onward. Crossing a glacier, all was nearly lost, a hidden crevasse nearly took their lives, but as with collectors, Lady Luck shined upon the pair, and though bruised and battered, they were able to continue their quest.
There, on a hillside, near a large boulder, the guide excitedly pointed out, there, the tunnel.
Wriggling into the tunnel, the entry point was barely 15 inches square, did provide relief, as it quickly opened up and one could stand. With torches held firmly, the search continued into the heart of the mountain.
Up the tunnel sloped, gradually but steadily upward. Years of water dripping had created many puddles, slick floors and treacherous footing, but the collector was NOT going to be deprived of the greatest treasure in the entire bottle hobby. Keep going was the word of the day.
Onward they pushed, centuries of cob webbing falling and matting into their clothing, the smoke of the torches stinging the eyes. At last, after several miles, there it was, a large bronze and wood door, the ornate woodworking and metalsmithing were stunning to behold. Though it was darkened by its great age, when asked, it swung freely upon its massive hinges, reveling to the eye a vast chamber, a chamber unlike any seen before. Filled with shelves, all filled with bottles, single file, perfectly spaced bottles. Thousands upon thousands of bottles, and to the amazement of the collector, they were all identical, exactly. Not one bubble in the glass, not one whittle mark, not one tool line different was any bottle, as if from a bottle Xerox machine they had been created.
Sitting there, on the right hand side as you entered the chamber, was an elderly man, his hair white, and beard long and flowing.
"What do you seek?" he asked of the pair.
"I seek the Tiz bottle sir." was the collectors answer.
"I understand that you are the greatest bottle collector in the world, and that the Tiz bottle will complete your lifes work. That you have searched this long, and covered such distance proves to me your desire for the truth, and passion for the Tiz bottle. Allow me to show you, as I am the only one who knows the Truth of the Tiz bottle. As you have made it your lifes work to find it, it has been mine to learn the secrets of it, and to safeguard it."
With this, the frail man arises, and grasping from a golden hook a long thin willow rod, approaches the first shelf of bottles. Raising the rod as a conductor, he began to sing, and as he sang, he tapped each bottle in order, to the tune.
"My (tap) Coun (tap) Try (tap) Tiz (tap) of thee (tap)."
With that, he turns to the collector and announces "You seek the 4th bottle, as that is the Tiz bottle, I tapped it when I sang "Tiz" in the song "My Country Tiz of thee, sweet land of Liberty"
Reaching to the shelf, he takes it down and hands it to the collector, wishes him the best, and departs.

I used to like you...

Okay, this one's a bit of stretch on the bottle angle, but here goes. . .

A cabbie picks up a fare, who's extremely drunk. The fare wobbles up to the cab and collapses into the cab's back seat. After asking his fare "Where to?" the cabbie peels off. A few minutes later, the drunk leans over the back of the front seat and slurs, "Have you got room in the front for a pizza and a six-pack?" Thinking that his fare wants to pull over and buy a pizza and six cold bottles of beer, the cabbie says, "Ya, sure. No problem." To that, the drunk responds by vomitting into the cab's front seat his stomach contents of pizza and beer.

Ya, I know, a tenuous bottle link and gross to boot!