A couple’s happy married life almost went on the rocks because of the presence in the household of old Aunt Emma.
For seven long years she lived with them, always crotchety, always judgmental, always demanding. Finally the old girl died.
On the way back from the cemetery, the husband confessed to his wife, Darling,if I didn’t love you so much, I don’t think I would have put up with having your Aunt Emma in the house all those years.
His wife looked at him aghast. “My Aunt Emma?? she cried. “I thought she was *your* Aunt Emma!”
A man boarded an airplane and took his seat. As he settled in, he glanced up and saw the most beautiful woman boarding the plane. He soon realized She was heading straight towards his seat. As fate would have it, she took the seat right beside his. Eager to strike up a conversation he blurted out, “Business trip or pleasure?”
She turned, smiled and said, “Business. I’m going to the Annual Nymphomaniacs of America Convention in Boston.”
He swallowed hard. Here was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen sitting next to him, and she was going to a meeting of nymphomaniacs! Struggling to maintain his composure, he calmly asked, “What’s your business at this convention?”
“Lecturer,” she responded. “I use information that I have learned from my personal experiences to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality.”
“Really?” he said. “And what kind of myths are there?”
“Well,” she explained, “one popular myth is that African-American men are the most well-endowed of all men, when in fact it is the Native American Indian who is most likely to possess that trait. Another popular myth is that Frenchmen are the best lovers, when actually it is men of Mexican descent who are the best. I have also discovered that the lover with absolutely the best stamina is the southern redneck.”
Suddenly the woman became a little uncomfortable and blushed. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I shouldn’t really be discussing all of this with you. I don’t even know your name.”
“Tonto,” the man said, “Tonto Gonzales, but my friends call me Bubba”.
Last week, we took some friends to a new restaurant, ‘Steve’s Place,’ and noticed that the waiter who took our order carried a spoon in his shirt pocket. It seemed a little strange. When the busboy brought our water and utensils, I observed that he also had a spoon in his shirt pocket. Then I looked around and saw that all the staff had spoons in their pockets.
When the waiter came back to serve our soup I inquired, ‘Why the spoon?’ ‘Well, ‘he explained,’the restaurant’s owner hired Andersen Consulting to revamp all of our processes. After several months of analysis, they concluded that the spoon was the most frequently dropped utensil. It represents a drop frequency of approximately 3 spoons per table per hour. If our personnel are better prepared, we can reduce the number of trips back to the kitchen and save 15 man-hours per shift.’
As luck would have it, I dropped my spoon and he replaced it with his spare. ‘I’ll get another spoon next time I go to the kitchen instead of making an extra trip to get it right now..’
I was impressed. I also noticed that there was a string hanging out of the waiter’s fly. Looking around, I saw that all of the waiters had the same string hanging from their flies. So, before he walked off, I asked the waiter, ‘Excuse me, but can you tell me why you have that string right there?’ “Oh, certainly!’
Then he lowered his voice. ‘Not everyone is so observant. That consulting firm I mentioned also learned that we can save time in the restroom. By tying this string to the tip of our you-know-what, we can pull it out without touching it and eliminate the need to wash our hands, shortening the time spent in the restroom by 76.39%.’ I asked quietly, ‘After you get it out, how do you put it back?’ ‘Well,’ he whispered, ‘I don’t know about the others, but I use the spoon.’
A Jewish father was concerned about his son who was about a year away from his Bar Mitzvah but was sorely lacking in his knowledge of the Jewish faith.
To remedy this he sent his son to Israel to experience his heritage. A year later the young man returned home. “Father, thank you for sending me to the land of our Fathers,” the son said. “It was wonderful and enlightening, however, I must confess that while in Israel I converted to Christianity.”
“Oy vey,” replied the father, “what have I done?”
So in the tradition of the patriarchs he went to his best friend and sought his advice and solace. “It is amazing that you should come to me,” stated his friend, “I too sent my son to Israel and he returned a Christian.”
So in the traditions of the patriarchs they went to the Rabbi. “It is amazing that you should come to me,” stated the Rabbi, “I too sent my son to Israel and he returned a Christian. What is happening to our sons? Brothers, we must take this to God,” said the Rabbi. They fell to their knees and began to wail and pour out their hearts to the Almighty.
As they prayed the clouds above opened and a mighty voice stated, “Amazing that you should come to Me. I, too, sent My Son to Israel.”
A honeymooning couple was passing through Louisiana. When they were approaching Lafayette, they started arguing about the pronunciation of the town. They argued back and forth until they got to the town, where they decided to stop for lunch.
As they stood at the counter, the man said, “Before we order, could you please settle an argument for us. Would you very slowly pronounce where we are.”
The guy behind the corner leaned over and said, “Burrrrrrrr gerrrrrrr Kiiiiing”