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When the store manager returned from lunch, he noticed his clerk’s hand was bandaged, but before he could ask about the bandage, the clerk had some very good news for him.
“Guess what, sir?” the clerk said. “I finally sold that terrible, ugly suit we’ve had so long!”
“Do you mean that repulsive pink-and-blue double-breasted thing?!” the manager asked.
“That’s the one!”
“That’s great!” the manager cried, “I thought we’d never get rid of that monstrosity! That had to be the ugliest suit we’ve ever had! But tell me, why is your hand bandaged?”
“Oh,” the clerk replied, “after I sold the guy that suit, his seeing-eye dog bit me.”
An elderly priest was speaking to a younger priest.
“You had a good idea to replace the first four pews with plush bucket theater seats. It worked like a charm! The front of the church always fills first now.”
As the young priest nodded, the old priest continued, “You also told me to assign a little more beat to the music because it would bring young people back to church. So, I supported you when you bought in that rock ‘n’ roll Gospel choir. Now, our services are consistently packed.”
“Thank you, Father,” answered the young priest. “I am pleased that you are open to the new ideas of youth.”
“All of these ideas have been well and good,” said the elderly priest. “But, I’m afraid you’ve gone too far with the drive-thru confessional.”
“But Father,” protested the young priest. “My confessions and donations have nearly doubled since I began that!”
“Yes,” replied, the elderly priest. “I appreciate that, but the flashing neon sign, ‘Toot ‘n’ Tell or Go to Hell’ cannot stay on the church roof!”
When Jane reached the checkout counter, she learned that one of her items had a scratched bar code, making it unreadable to the scanner.
Imagine her embarrassment when the cashier got on the intercom and boomed out for all the store to hear, “Price check on Tampax, supersize please.”
As if that was not bad enough, somebody at the rear of the store misunderstood the word “Tampax” for “thumbtacks.”
In a business-like tone, a voice boomed back over the intercom, “Do you want the kind you push in with your thumb or the kind you pound in with a hammer?”
An aged farmer and his wife were leaning against the edge of their pig-pen when the old woman wistfully recalled that the next week would mark their Golden Wedding Anniversary.
“Let’s have a big party, Homer,” she suggested. “You’ll need to kill a pig.”
The farmer scratched his grizzled head. “Gee, Ethel,” he finally answered, “I don’t see why the pig should take the blame for something that happened fifty years ago.”
Off the seventh tee, Joe sliced his shot deep into a wooded ravine. He took his eight iron and clambered down the embankment in search of his lost ball. After many long minutes of hacking at the underbrush, he spotted something glistening in the leaves. As he drew nearer, he discovered that it was an eight iron in hands of a skeleton!
Joe immediately called out to his friend, “Jack, I’ve got trouble down here!”
“What’s the matter?” Jack asked from the edge of the ravine.
“Bring me my wedge,” Joe shouted. “You can’t get out of here with an eight iron!”