Crude Humor Quotes

Ela did you just fart? Because you just blew me away.

[Science] works! Planes fly. Cars drive. Computers compute. If you base medicine on science, you cure people. If you base the design of planes on science, they fly. If you base the design of rockets on science, they reach the moon. It works... bitches.

Fear and shame are the backbone of my self-control. They are my source of inspiration, my insurance against becoming entirely unacceptable. They help me do the right thing. And I am terrified of what I would be without them. Because I suspect that, left to my own devices, I would completely lose control of my life. I'm still hoping that perhaps someday I'll learn how to use willpower like a real person, but until that very unlikely day, I will confidently battle toward adequacy, wielding my crude skill set of fear and shame.

You see I've been taking these tests to tell when I'm ovulating and when I'm mostfertile. And well...it's now." "Oh, so you came up here for a fuck?" Emma cringed. "Do you always have to be so crude?" He chuckled. "I'm sorry. Would you prefer I call it an afternoon delight?" he teased.

It was a map. A really crudely drawn map of trees, mountains that looked like upside-down Vs, and stick people. Apparently, drawing was not one of Athena's skills.

Then I guess the rest of my life will be resigned to doggy style sex." The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them. "I mean however long...when we're...that wasn't a fucking proposal." "Okay." "Don't smile that. Smugness doesn't become you." "Okay." "Scoot the fuck over. You're hogging the bed." Austin and Peter. :')

take a strict view of their excrements, and, from the colour, the odour, the taste, the consistence, the crudeness or maturity of digestion, form a judgment of their thoughts and designs; because men are never so serious, thoughtful, and intent, as when they are at stool...

i am like a dead begonia hanging upside down because like a dead begonia I don't give a fuck

Everything is possible in America, except the production of intelligence.

[Artemis] returned to the aft bay for Mulch's version of a briefing. The dwarf had drawn a crude diagram on a backlit wall panel. In fairness, there were more artistic chimpanzees. And less pungent ones. Mulch was using a carrot as a pointer, or more accurately, several carrots. Dwarfs liked carrots. 'This is Koboi Labs,' He mumbled around a mouthful of vegetable. 'That?' exclaimed Root. 'I realize, Julius, that it is not an accurate schematic.' The Commander exploded from his chair. 'An accurate schematic? It's a rectangle for heaven's sake!' Mulch was unperturbed. 'That's not important. This is the important bit.' 'That wobbly line?' 'It's a fissure,' pouted the dwarf. 'Anybody can see that.' 'Anybody in kindergarten maybe. So it's a fissure, so what?' 'This is the clever bit. Y'see that fissure is not usually there.' Root began strangling the air again. Something he was doing more and more lately.

Good plan," Freddy was saying. "Let's get some decent sleep. Tomorrow we can shake our gravy asses into town and do some sluething.

You’ve got to give the door something?’ ‘Yes,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Blood, if I am not much mistaken.’ ‘Blood?’ ‘I said it was crude,’ said Dumbledore, who sounded disdainful, even disappointed, as though Voldemort had fallen short of the standards Dumbledore expected.

I will say one thing about those males, there is never a dull moment." Peri suddenly appeared causing everyone to jump. "Bloody hell," Jen barked. "Couldn't you send out some sort of signal that you're about to appear out of thin air?" Lilly asked. "What do you expect me to do...fart just before I appear so the smell alerts you?" Peri took a seat next to Alina and crossed her legs, appearing regal despite her crude words. "Why do you say we would be alerted by the smell, rather than the sound?" Sally asked. Peri smiled. "I think you humans call them silent but deadly.

Las convenciones siempre nos imponen su locura en los momentos menos apropiados.

Be not fickle with your riddles, Alasír,” she said. “You and I both suspect the same thing. Someone has been out here poking the bear, if you’ll excuse me crude analogy.

No. This was a crude and adolescent way of talking to the fairer gender, it rarely works. When it does work, the woman that falls for it isn’t even suitable for a satisfying sexual encounter. A good way to weed out the poor decisions and unacceptable mistakes though, and a better way to catch a horrible case of the dick rot. Trial and error. A few hit points missing is better for skill gain anyway.

You can't polish a turd

There are two kinds of people in life: those who like crude dualities and those who do not.

If cheese was a woman, I'd marry her. I'd come home and eat her every night.

You do not buy Taco Bell, you rent Taco Bell and then return it to its ecosystem with a couple of flushes.

Frisland is a country that's so powerful it had itself removed off all world maps, so it could stealthily gain influence. It has an ancient ruler named King Anthony, better known as Susan B. Anthony. Susan really do be Anthony. King Anthony began to reign over Frisland just as soon as Susan B. Anthony "died." At first, King Anthony was kept alive through crude cloning techniques, but over the last century, technology has advanced so far that now King Anthony exists as a spirit embedded in a hologram.

Tru only matched his grin and walked on. Pen caught up with him, tugging on his arm. “What is it?” “I took a walk yesterday when you were working.” “A walk.” “Yup.” “Had you shifted?” “Yes, I had.” Pen caught his humor, although she couldn’t understand its origins. “And?” “I may have used their freshwater reserves as a latrine. And then encouraged the other skinwalkers to do the same.” She giggled like a little girl being told a dirty joke. “That’s remarkably crude.” “I like to think of it as clever and resourceful.” “That, too.

Davey Boy's Dead was given a new lease on life when doctors transplanted the Dynamite Kidney into his body. That new lease on life came to a sudden and rather hilarious end when the Dynamite Kidney exploded and tore a hole in Davey Boy's side. - The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Zombies

Les psychiatres, c'est très efficace. Moi, avant, je pissais au lit, j'avais honte. Je suis allé voir un psychiatre, je suis guéri. Maintenant, je pisse au lit, mais j'en suis fier. Psychiatrists are very efficient. Before, I used to wet the bed. I went to see a psychiatrist, and was cured. Now, when I wet the bed, I'm proud of it.

Did you just spit on your hand before you patted down my hair?” he asked indignantly. “Oh, I did no such thing. Now be still. Of all the rude, impertinent accusations to make! Bend down lower. I will have you know that members of the aristocracy do not have ‘spit’ as you crudely refer to it, young man. We do not acknowledge saliva in any form. Straighten your collar. There, you look nearly presentable.” She grumbled in aggravation, “Do you even own a brush?” Grabbing his chin, she brusquely turned his face from side to side. “For heaven’s sake, Richard, what did you use to shave—a shovel?” “Leave now, Catherine, and I may spare your life.” There was a moment of quiet from behind the door. “Go, woman! I intend to begin ravishing my wife shortly; however, I will not even consider it before I see that little dwarflike body of yours waddling down this corridor! Away with you! Shoo!” “Oh, all right!” she finally capitulated. “By the way, mon chou, I should tell you that when you two finally get around to reconciling and retire upstairs, Amanda is occupying the large blue suite down the east corridor, not your usual bachelor room at the end of the west corridor.” She reached up to kiss his offered cheek then turned on her heels to leave. “You have finally earned an upgrade in accommodations, Richard. Well done, you.

One of them is a very familiar personage. Her name is “Mother Church.” She is, in many ways, an admirable and dedicated person, deeply concerned about her children, endlessly and tirelessly careful for every detail of their welfare. Her long experience has taught her to understand her family very well. She knows their capabilities and she knows their weakness even better. She is patient and imperturbable, quite unshockable (she has witnessed all of the considerable range of human wickedness in her time) and there are no lengths to which she ill not go to educate her family. She has a huge fund of stories, maxims and advice, all of them time-tested, and usually interesting as well. She is very talented, skilled din creating a beautiful home for her children; she can show them how to enrich their lives with the glory of music and art. And there is no doubt that she loves God, and wishes to guide her children according to his will. On the other hand, she is extremely inclined to feel that her will and God's are identical. In her eyes there can be no better, no other, way than hers. If she is unshockable, she is frequently cynical. She is shrewd, with a thoroughly earthy and often humorous shrewdness. She knows her children's limitations so well that she will not allow them to outgrow them. She will lie and cheat if she feels it is necessary to keep her charges safe; she uses her authority 'for their own good' but if it seems to be questioned she is ruthless in suppressing revolt. She is hugely self-satisfied, and her judgement, while experienced, is often insensitive and therefore cruel. She is suspicious of eccentricity and new ideas, since her own are so clearly effective, and non-conformists get a rough time, though after they are dead she often feels differently about them. This is Mother Church, a crude, domineering, violent, loving, deceitful, compassionate old lady, a person to whom one cannot be indifferent, whom may one may love much and yet fight against, whom one may hate and yet respect.

I have considered the impudent accusations of Mr Dawkins with exasperation at his lack of serious scholarship. He has apparently not read the detailed discourses of Count Roderigo of Seville on the exquisite and exotic leathers of the Emperor's boots, nor does he give a moment's consideration to Bellini's masterwork, On the Luminescence of the Emperor's Feathered Hat. We have entire schools dedicated to writing learned treatises on the beauty of the Emperor's raiment, and every major newspaper runs a section dedicated to imperial fashion ... Dawkins arrogantly ignores all these deep philosophical ponderings to crudely accuse the Emperor of nudity ... Until Dawkins has trained in the shops of Paris and Milan, until he has learned to tell the difference between a ruffled flounce and a puffy pantaloon, we should all pretend he has not spoken out against the Emperor's taste. His training in biology may give him the ability to recognize dangling genitalia when he sees it, but it has not taught him the proper appreciation of Imaginary Fabrics.

Sure, there is an undeniable pleasure in rooting for a winning team and in being able to look down on opposing fans with equal measures of superiority and disdain. But that's also the Ruthian drawback in rooting for the Yankees (along with high ticket prices, overpriced concessions and crude neighbors). The true pleasure in sports comes not from simply winning but from watching a team overcome adversity to win in the end. The joy of sports is never the final destination, it's the journey. It's experiencing the highs and lows, and appreciating those highs all the more because of the awful lows.

The class struggle, which is always present to a historian influenced by Marx, is a fight for the crude and material things without which no refined and spiritual things could exist. Nevertheless, it is not in the form of the spoils which fall to the victor that the latter make their presence felt in the class struggle. They manifest themselves in this struggle as courage, humor, cunning, and fortitude. They have retroactive force and will constantly call in question every victory, past and present, of the rulers. As flowers turn toward the sun, by dint of a secret heliotropism the past strives to turn toward that sun which is rising in the sky of history. A historical materialist must be aware of this most inconspicuous of all transformations.

Is the princess still in the fitting room?" "Oh no, darling. She appeared about half an hour ago. Poured herself a black coffee, and looked longingly at the cakes. That child is starving herself if you ask me. Now she's definitely too thin. European men do like a woman to have a little meat on her bones." "And Prince Nicolas, have you seen him recently?" "I haven't seen him since lunch. I gather he and Antone went out to shoot. And I expect Max went with them. They're only happy when they're shooting something. Apart from sex of course." "Mother!" I gave her a warning frown. My mother glanced around at the other women, who were tucking into their tort with abandon. "They won't understand. Their English is hopeless, darling. Besides, it is about time you are acquainted with the facts of life. I've hopelessly neglected my duty in that area. Men only have two thoughts in their heads. And those are killing or copulating." "I'm sure there are plenty of men with finer feelings who are interested in art and culture." "Yes, darling. Of course there are. They are called ferries. And they are quite adorable. So witty and fun to be with. But in my long and varied life I've found that the ones who are witty to be with are no use in bed. And vice versa.

The popular culture has also lowered the threshold on public shaming rituals. It is not only suppressing certain speech on college campuses, but making public denunciation of certain classes of people into a form of popular entertainment. The masters of the funny cheap shot are comedians Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, who routinely and cleverly skewer conservatives as stupid bigots. After the Supreme Court ruling on same-sex marriage, for example, Stewart asked what was wrong with opponents of same-sex marriage, as if a view held for thousands of years, even not very long ago by both Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton, were incomprehensible. The use of humor is a cultural trick. It provides a cultural permission slip to be nasty because, or so the assumption goes, the enemies of "the people" are so unattractive that they deserve whatever Stewart or Colbert throws at them. When Stewart compares Senator Ted Cruz to the Harry Potter character Voldemort, he knows we will then think of Cruz as the book's author describes Voldemort, "a raging psychopath, devoid of the normal human responses to other people's suffering". It may seem futile to complain about the crudeness of American mass culture. It has been around for decades, and it is not about to change anytime soon. The thin line that exists these days between politics and entertainment (witness the rise of Donald Trump) is undoubtedly coarsening our politics. It is becoming more culturally acceptable to split the world into us-versus-them schemata and to indulge in all sorts of antisocial and illiberal fantasies about crushing one's enemies. Only a few decades ago most liberals had a different idea of tolerance. Most would explain it with some variation of Evelyn Beatrice Hall's line about Voltaire's philosophy of free speech: "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it". That is no longer the case. It is now deemed necessary, indeed even noble, to be intolerant in the cause of tolerance. Any remark or viewpoint that liberals believe is critical of minorities is by definition intolerant. A liberal critique of conservatives or religious people, on the other hand, is, again by definition, incapable of being intolerant. It is a willful double standard. For liberals, intolerance is a one-way street leading straight to conservatism.

It is unfortunate to say that Griff often spoke this way, even when speaking warg, which was among the many of his second languages after his native Lohrwegian. Among the dialects that Griff had picked up over the years, the goblin had a fluent command of wolf, bear, and dog. He also knew a few phrases in rat, a smattering of horse, possessed a crude grasp of boar, and finally, but somewhat more dubiously, goat, of which he only knew the swear words.

Sometimes she felt much like a natural philosopher watching exotic animals in their native habitat. What she had always suspected was confirmed by life aboard the Fancy--men were simple creatures with uncomplicated brains. They wanted food, and drink, and fighting, and sexual congress. They were impressed with their own body's ability to make noise and odor. Their idea of humor was at best crude, at worst painful, yet even after some of the bizarre practical jokes that brought men to her sick bay they were still laughing and bragging about whatever insane thing they'd done that got them in that condition.

You see more than most people,” Mikhail said. “You are a great asset to me, Raven.” She shook her head, sitting up as well, her long hair sliding over her breasts like a cape. “Not yet, but I hope to be. Send for Jacques. But go feed before you see him. You made me weak with your lovemaking, and if you’ll forgive a little crude Carpathian humor, I’ll expect you to bring me home dinner.” Startled, he stared at her. For a long moment there was silence, and then they both burst out laughing.

The first is what some psychologists call “hot hate,” based on anger. Imagine yourself yelling at the television, and you get the picture. Most Americans would be ashamed to say “I hate Republicans” or “I hate Democrats.” But our market preferences tell the true story. We reward professional political pundits who say or write that the other side is evil or stupid or both. For some haters, the hot variety is a little too crude. They prefer “cool hate,” based on contempt, and express disgust for another person through sarcasm, dismissal or mockery. Cool hate can be every bit as damaging as hot hate. The social psychologist and relationship expert John Gottman was famously able to predict with up to 94 percent accuracy whether couples would divorce just by observing a brief snippet of conversation. The biggest warning signs of all were indications of contempt, such as sarcasm, sneering and hostile humor. Want to see if a couple will end up in divorce court? Watch them discuss a contentious topic — which Mr. Gottman has done thousands of times — and see if either partner rolls his or her eyes. Disagreement is normal, but dismissiveness can be deadly. As it is in love, so it is in politics. With just an ironic smile, one can dismiss an entire class of citizens as uncultured rubes or mindless theocrats. Feigning shock and dismay at the resulting indignation simply adds insult to injury. The last variety is anonymous hate.

I've always told my kids, when it comes to humor, go for the comical not the crude and coarse. You can tell an amazing story without dragging people through the muck.

Crude humor has never helped anyone.

when other characters mistake Sam and Dean for a couple, this is not just a crude attempt at homophobic humor. It also reflects that many Americans are not used to observing intimacy in people unless they're romantic partners. We joke about "bromances", because we struggle with the idea that men -- emotionally stoic and self-sufficient creatures -- can engage in tender and intimate relations with one another, especially if they are straight. Even if we think we're okay with the idea of men having sex with other men, we still may have to impulse to laugh at two men being caring and intimate friends. This tention comes out when the angel Zachariah yells in a fit of frustration that Sam and Dean are "psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on each other." Their intimacy and personal devotion to one another seems so deviant that it looks live a mental illness (or sexual tension) to Zacharaiah. Stacey Goguen, "Masculinity and Supernatural Love

    We didn't know the nature of lightning or rainbows for three and a half million years, pet. Don't reject it just because it seems impossible. If we closed our minds, there would never be the Gravitube, antimatter, Prose Portals, thermos flasks—"     "Wait!" I interrupted. "How does a thermos fit in with that lot?"     Because, my dear girl," replied Mycroft, cleaning the blackboard and drawing a crude picture of a thermos with a question mark, "no one has the least idea why they work." He stared at me for a moment and continued: "You will agree that a vacuum flask keeps hot things hot in the winter and cold things cold in the summer?"     "Yes—?"     "Well, how does it know? I've studied vacuum flasks for many years and not one of them gave any clues as to their inherent seasonal cognitive ability. It's a mystery to me, I can tell you.

Choose a dojo. There’s Ross Jeffries and the school of Speed Seduction, where subliminal language patterns are used to get a girl aroused. Or Mystery and the Mystery Method, in which social dynamics are manipulated to snag the most desirable woman in a club. Or David DeAngelo and Double Your Dating, in which he advocates keeping the upper hand over a woman through a combination of humor and arrogance that he calls cocky funny. Or Gunwitch and Gunwitch Method, in which the only thing students have to do is project animalistic sexuality and escalate physical contact until the woman stops them. His crude motto: “Make the ho say no.” Or there’s David X, David Shade, Rick H., Major Mark, and Juggler—the newest guru on the scene, who appeared online one day claiming he could pick up women better and faster than any other PUA simply by reading his grocery list. Then there are the inner-circle teachers, like Steve P. and Rasputin, who reveal their techniques only to those they deem worthy. Yes, there are plenty of mentors to choose from, each with his own methods and disciples, each operating under the belief that his way is the way. And the giants do battle constantly

Stanley throws the screen door of the kitchen open and comes in. He is of medium height, about five feet eight or nine, and strongly, compactly built. Animal joy in his being is implicit in all his movements and attitudes. Since earliest manhood the center of his life has been pleasure with women, the giving and taking of it, not with weak indulgence, dependently, but with the power and pride of a richly feathered male bird among hens. Branching out from this complete and satisfying center are all the auxiliary channels of his life, such as his heartiness with men, his appreciation of rough humor, his love of good drink and food and games, his car, his radio, everything that is his, that bears his emblem of the gaudy seed-bearer. He sizes women up at a glance, with sexual classifications, crude images flashing into his mind and determining the way he smiles at them.

Imagination," writes Frank Fenton, 'had run around this city like an artistic child. Somewhere it showed a pure and lovely talent. Somewhere it was crude and humorously grotesque.

Send for Jacques. But go feed before you see him. You made me weak with your lovemaking, and if you’ll forgive a little crude Carpathian humor, I’ll expect you to bring me home dinner.” Startled, he stared at her. For a long moment there was silence, and then they both burst out laughing.

The way you love me, Mikhail, is amazing. Thank you. But you’d better go before Gregori believes I’m holding you prisoner and comes looking for you.” “Ah, yes. Gregori.” Mikhail kissed her and sat up, his movements fluid and easy. “Does he frighten you?” “He gave me his allegiance,” she said. “I don’t believe he ever goes back on his word, and he certainly doesn’t give his loyalty to just anyone. No, I’m not afraid of him. I’m afraid for him. I think he is in a very difficult situation, and his nature demands certain things from him.” “You see more than most people,” Mikhail said. “You are a great asset to me, Raven.” She shook her head, sitting up as well, her long hair sliding over her breasts like a cape. “Not yet, but I hope to be. Send for Jacques. But go feed before you see him. You made me weak with your lovemaking, and if you’ll forgive a little crude Carpathian humor, I’ll expect you to bring me home dinner.” Startled, he stared at her. For a long moment there was silence, and then they both burst out laughing. “Get dressed,” Mikhail ordered with mock sternness. “I cannot have poor Jacques tormented by you.” “I fully intend to torment him. He needs to learn not to be so serious.” “Jacques is the least serious of all Carpathian males. He has retained his emotions far longer than most. It has only been a few centuries since he has lost them.” “He is serious when it comes to ordering females about. He has definite ideas on how we should behave. I intend to take that up with him.” His eyebrow shot up. “I am certain you will keep him occupied while we are gone. Do me a favor, little one, do not be too hard on him.” They were both laughing as they dressed.

Send for Jacques. But go feed before you see him. You made me weak with your lovemaking, and if you’ll forgive a little crude Carpathian humor, I’ll expect you to bring me home dinner.

Send for Jacques. But go feed before you see him. You made me weak with your lovemaking, and if you’ll forgive a little crude Carpathian humor, I’ll expect you to bring me home dinner.” Startled, he stared at her. For a long moment there was silence, and then they both burst out laughing. “Get dressed,” Mikhail ordered with mock sternness. “I cannot have poor Jacques tormented by you.” “I fully intend to torment him. He needs to learn not to be so serious.

Send for Jacques. But go feed before you see him. You made me weak with your lovemaking, and if you’ll forgive a little crude Carpathian humor, I’ll expect you to bring me home dinner.” Startled, he stared at her. For a long moment there was silence, and then they both burst out laughing. “Get dressed,” Mikhail ordered with mock sternness. “I cannot have poor Jacques tormented by you.” “I fully intend to torment him. He needs to learn not to be so serious.” “Jacques is the least serious of all Carpathian males. He has retained his emotions far longer than most. It has only been a few centuries since he has lost them.” “He is serious when it comes to ordering females about. He has definite ideas on how we should behave. I intend to take that up with him.” His eyebrow shot up. “I am certain you will keep him occupied while we are gone. Do me a favor, little one, do not be too hard on him.” They were both laughing as they dressed.

Our bodies have been created not only by God but also for God..We are driven today by whatever can bring our bodies the most pleasure. What can we eat, touch, watch, do listen to, or engage in to satisfy the cravings of our bodies?..in his love, gives us boundaries for our bodies: he loves us and knows what is best for us..[there are] clear and critical distinctions between different types of laws in Leviticus. Some of the laws are civil in nature, and they specifically pertain to the government of ancient Israel..Other laws are ceremonial..However, various moral laws..are explicitly reiterated in the New Testament..Jesus himself teaches that the only God-honoring alternative to marriage between a man and a woman is singleness..the Bible also prohibits all sexual looking and thinking outside of marriage between a husband and a wife..it is sinful even to look at someone who is not your husband or wife and entertain sexual thoughts about that person..it is also wrong to provoke sexual desires in others outside of marriage..God prohibits any kind of crude speech, humor, or entertainment that remotely revolves around sexual immorality..often watch movies and shows, read books and articles, and visit Internet sites that highlight, display, promote, or make light of sexual immorality..God prohibits sexual worship-- the idolization of sex and infatuation with sexual activity as a fundamental means to personal fulfillment..Don't rationalize it, and don't reason with it-- run from it. Flee it as fast as you can..We all have a sinful tendency to turn aside from God's ways to our wants. This tendency has an inevitable effect on our sexuality..every one of us is born with a bent toward sexual sin. But just because we have that bent doesn't mean we must act upon it. We live in a culture that assumes a natural explanation implies a moral obligation. If you were born with a desire, then it's essential to your nature to carry it out. This is one reason why our contemporary discussion of sexuality is wrongly framed as an issue of civil rights..Ethnic identity is a morally neutral attribute..Sexual activity is a morally chosen behavior..our sexual behavior is a moral decision, and just because we are inclined to certain behaviors does not make such behaviors right. His disposition toward a behavior does not mean justification for that behavior. "That's the way he is" doesn't mean "that's how he should act." Adultery isn't inevitable; it's immoral. This applies to all sexual behavior that deviates from God's design..We do not always choose our temptations. But we do choose our reactions to those temptations..the assumption that God's Word is subject to human judgement..Instead of obeying what God has said, we question whether God has said it..as soon as we advocate homosexual activity, we undercut biblical authority..we are undermining the integrity of the entire gospel..We take this created gift called sex and use it to question the Creator God, who gave us the gift in the first place..[Jesus] was the most fully human, fully complete person who ever lived, and he was never married. He never indulged in any sort of sexual immorality..This was not a resurrection merely of Jesus' spirit or soul but of his body..Repentance like this doesn't mean total perfection, but it does mean a new direction..in a culture that virtually equates identity with sexuality..Naturally this becomes our perception of ourselves, and we subsequently view everything in our lives through this grid..When you turn to Christ, your entire identity is changed. You are in Christ, and Christ is in you. Your identity is no longer as a heterosexual or a homosexual, an addict or an adulterer.

. Despite the considerable horror they had felt when the SA men were bellowing crude anti-Semitic slogans, in retrospect the joke-tellers were very much aware of the boycott’s inherent absurdity: A city on the Rhine during the boycott: SA men stand in front of Jewish businesses and “warn” passers-by against entering them. Nonetheless, a woman tries to go into a knitting shop. An SA man stops her and says, “Hey, you. Stay outside. That’s a Jewish shop!” “So?” replies the woman. “I’m Jewish myself.” The SA man pushes her back. “Anyone can say that!