And now, more roughneck jokes!

More Roughneck Jokes

 

A ROOKIE POLICE OFFICER PULLED A ROUGHNECK OVER FOR SPEEDING AND HAD THE FOLLOWING EXCHANGE:

OFFICER: MAY I SEE YOUR DRIVER’S LICENSE?

ROUGHNECK: I DON’T HAVE ONE. I HAD IT SUSPENDED WHEN I GOT MY 5TH DUI.

OFFICER: MAY I SEE THE OWNER’S CARD FOR THIS VEHICLE?

ROUGHNECK: IT’S NOT MY BIKE. I STOLE IT.

OFFICER: THE MOTORCYCLE IS STOLEN?

ROUGHNECK: THAT’S RIGHT. BUT COME TO THINK OF IT, I THINK I SAW THE OWNER’S CARD IN THE TOOL BAG WHEN I WAS PUTTING MY GUN IN THERE.

OFFICER: THERE’S A GUN IN THE TOOL BAG?

ROUGHNECK: YES SIR. THAT’S WHERE I PUT IT AFTER I SHOT AND KILLED THE DUDE WHO OWNS THIS BIKE AND STUFFED HIS DOPE IN THE SADDLE BAGS.

OFFICER: THERE’S DRUGS IN THE SADDLE BAGS TOO?!?!?

ROUGHNECK: YES, SIR. HEARING THIS, THE ROOKIE IMMEDIATELY CALLED HIS CAPTAIN. THE ROUGHNECK WAS QUICKLY SURROUNDED BY POLICE, AND THE CAPTAIN APPROACHED THE ROUGHNECK TO HANDLE THE TENSE SITUATION:

CAPTAIN: SIR, CAN I SEE YOUR LICENSE?

ROUGHNECK: SURE. HERE IT IS. IT WAS VALID.

CAPTAIN: WHO’S MOTORCYCLE IS THIS?

ROUGHNECK: IT’S MINE, OFFICER. HERE’S THE REGISTRATION.

CAPTAIN: COULD YOU SLOWLY OPEN YOUR TOOL BAG SO I CAN SEE IF THERE’S A GUN IN IT?

ROUGHNECK: YES, SIR, BUT THERE’S NO GUN IN IT. SURE ENOUGH, THERE WAS NOTHING IN THE TOOL BAG.

CAPTAIN: WOULD YOU MIND OPENING YOUR SADDLE BAGS? I WAS TOLD YOU SAID THERE’S DRUGS IN THEM.

ROUGHNECK: NO PROBLEM. THE SADDLE BAGS WERE OPENED; NO DRUGS.

CAPTAIN: I DON’T UNDERSTAND IT. THE OFFICER WHO STOPPED YOU SAID YOU TOLD HIM YOU DIDN’T HAVE A LICENSE, STOLE THIS MOTORCYCLE, HAD A GUN IN THE TOOL BAG, AND THAT THERE WERE DRUGS IN THE SADDLE BAGS.

ROUGHNECK: YEAH, I’LL BET HE TOLD YOU I WAS SPEEDING, TOO!

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An old Texas Oil Man drove his brand new Corvette convertible out of the dealership.

Taking off down the road, he floored it to 80 mph, enjoying the wind blowing through what little gray hair he had left.

“Amazing,” he thought as he flew down I-20, pushing the pedal even more.

Looking in his rear view mirror, he saw a state trooper behind him, lights flashing and siren blaring. He floored it to 100 mph, then 110, then 120.

Suddenly he thought, “What the hell am I doing? I’m too old for this,” and pulled over to await the trooper’s arrival.

Pulling in behind him, the trooper walked up to the Corvette, looked at his watch, and said;

“Sir, my shift ends in 30 minutes. Today is Friday. If you can give me a reason for speeding that I’ve never heard before, I’ll let you go.”

The old oil man paused.

Then he said, “Years ago, my wife ran off with a State trooper. I thought you were bringing her back.”

“Have a good day, sir,” replied the trooper.

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An old southern country preacher from West Texas had a teenage son named David and it was getting time the boy should give some thought to choosing a profession. Like many young men, the boy didn’t really know what he wanted to do, and he didn’t seem too concerned about it. One day, while the boy was away at school, his father decided to try an experiment.
He went into the boy’s room and placed on his study table four objects:
– a Bible,
– a silver dollar,
– a bottle of whiskey and
– a Playboy magazine
I’ll just hide behind the door,’ the old preacher said to himself, ‘and when he comes home from school this afternoon, I’ll see which object he picks up.
If it’s the Bible, he’s going to be a preacher like me, and what a blessing that would be!
If he picks up the dollar, he’s going to be a businessman and that would be OK.
But if he picks up the bottle, he’s going to be a no-good drunkard, and, Lord, what a shame that would be.
And worst of all, if he picks up that magazine he’s gonna be a skirt-chasin’ bum.’
The old man waited anxiously, and soon heard his son’s footsteps as he entered the house whistling and headed for his room. The boy tossed his books on the bed, and as he turned to leave the room he spotted the objects on the table. With curiosity in his eye, he walked over to inspect them.
Finally, he picked up the Bible and placed it under his arm. He picked up the silver dollar and dropped it into his pocket. He uncorked the bottle and took a big drink while he admired this month’s Centerfold.
‘Lord have mercy,’ the old preacher disgustedly whispered, he’s going into the oilfield.

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