A woman’s husband had been slipping in and out of a coma for several months, yet she had stayed by his bedside every single day. One day, he motioned for her to come nearer. She sat by him, he whispered, eyes full of tears, ‘You know what? You have been with me all through the bad times.
When I got fired, you were there to support me. When my business failed, you were there. When I got shot, you were by my side.
When we lost the house, you stayed right here. When my health started failing, you were still by my side. You know what?’
‘What dear?’ She gently asked, smiling as her heart began to fill with warmth.
‘I think you’re bad luck, bugger off!’
The young mother was advised by a psychiatrist, “You are far too upset and worried about your son. I am going to give you a prescription for some tranquillizers that I want you to start taking regularly.”
On her next visit the psychiatrist asked, “Have the tranquilizers calmed you down any?”
“Oh, yes” the mother answered. “They do wonders for me.”
“And how is your son now?” he asked.
She replied, “Who cares…”
I prefer to describe myself as a “Contemporary Anthropological Interactive Observer” because it has just the right amount of flair. Besides….”stalker” is such an ugly word.
I recently passed a convoy(of 3) septic tankers. Their personalized number plates read Peepee, Weewee and Poopoo. Someone who owned the business had a sense of humor.
A guy meets a childhood pal. “What are you doing for your- self these days?”
“I’m a fireman,” his old friend replies.
“Yeah? My 15-year-old kid wants to be a fireman,” says the guy.
“Well,” says his friend, “if you want some good advice, you’ve got to install a pole in your house that will go to the basement so your kid can practice, because the hardest thing for a fireman is to jump off into space and catch that pole in the middle of the night.”
Ten years later, the two guys happen to meet again.
“Well, did your son become a fireman?”
“No,” moans the guy, “but my daughter is a stripper.”
"Women will forgive anything. Otherwise, the race would have died out long ago.” —Robert Heinlein
-A young man was walking past a blind woman using a cane on a street corner downtown, when she said, “Excuse me, but if it’s not too much trouble, can you see me across the street?”
Our good samaritan replied, “Just a minute.” He walked across the street, looked back and yelled, “Yes, I can see you fine!”
Random thoughts
How important does a person have to be before they are considered assassinated instead of just murdered?
What disease did cured ham actually have?
If a deaf person has to go to court, is it still called a hearing?
Why are you in a movie, but you’re on TV?
If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?
Two nuns are ordered to paint a room in the convent, and the last instruction of the Mother Superior is that they must not get even a drop of paint on their habits.
After conferring about this for a while, the two nuns decide to lock the door of the room, strip off their habits, and paint in the nude. In the middle of the project, there comes a knock at the door.
“Who is it?”, calls one of the nuns.
“Blind man,” replies a voice from the other side of the door.
The two nuns look at each other and shrug, and deciding that no harm can come from letting a blind man into the room, they open the door. “Nice boobs,” says the man, “Where do you want the blinds?”
“We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office.” –Aesop
I met an older woman at a club last night.
This isn’t usually my thing, but she was attractive enough for a 50-year-old. We had a few drinks, danced a little bit, and the next thing you know my hand was caressing her thigh and she was whispering dirty nothings in my ear.
She asked me if I’d ever had a sportsman’s double, a mother and daughter 3-some?
I said no. We drank a bit more, then she says tonight was my lucky night.
We went back to her place. She put the hall light on and shouted upstairs: “Mom, you still awake?”
An Australian, an Irishman and an Englishman were sitting in a bar.
There was only one other person in the bar. It was a man. The three men kept looking at this other man, for he seemed terribly familiar.
They stared and stared, wondering where they had seen him before, when suddenly the Irishman cried out ‘My God, I know who that man is. It’s Jesus!’
The others looked again and, sure enough, it was Jesus himself, sitting alone at a table.
The Irishman calls out, ‘Hey! You!!! Are you Jesus?’
The man looks over at him, smiles a small smile and nods his head.
‘Yes, I am Jesus’ he says.
The Irishman calls the bartender over and says to him ‘I’d like you to give Jesus over there a pint of Guinness from me.’
So the bartender pours Jesus a Guinness and takes it over to his table.
Jesus looks over, raises his glass, smiles thank you and drinks.
The Englishman then calls out, ‘Errr, excuse me Sir but would you be Jesus?’
Jesus smiles and says, ‘Yes, I am Jesus.’
The Englishman beckons the bartender and tells him to send over a Pint of Newcastle Brown Ale for Jesus.
This the bartender duly does. As before, Jesus accepts the drink and smiles over at the men.
Then the Australian calls out, ‘Oi, you! D’ya reckon you’re Jesus, or what?’
Jesus nods and says, ‘Yes, I am Jesus.’
The Australian is mighty impressed and has the bartender send over Schooner of Victoria Bitter for Jesus, this he accepts with pleasure.
Some time later, after finishing the drinks, Jesus leaves his seat and approaches the three men He reaches for the hand of the Irishman and shakes it, thanking him for the Guinness. When he lets go, the Irishman gives a cry of amazement
‘Oh God, the arthritis is gone,’ he says. ‘The arthritis I’ve had for years is gone. It’s a miracle!’
Jesus then shakes the hand of the Englishman, thanking him for the Newcastle Brown Ale. Upon letting go, the Englishman’s eyes widen in shock.
‘By Jove’, he exclaims, ‘The migraine I’ve had for over 40 years is completely gone. It’s a Miracle!’ Jesus then approaches the Australian, who has a terrified look on his face.
The Aussie whispers. ‘P!ss off mate, I’m on Workers Comp’