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Laid Off

Paddy and Mick were both laid off, so they went to the unemployment office. When asked his occupation Paddy answered, “Knicker Stitcher. I sew da elastic onto ladies’ knickers and thongs.”

The clerk looked up “Knicker Stitcher” on his computer and, finding it classified as unskilled labor, he gave him $80 a week unemployment pay.

Mick was next in line and when asked his occupation, he replied, “Diesel Fitter.” Since a diesel fitter was a skilled job, the clerk gave Mick $160 a week.

When Paddy found out he was furious. He stormed back into the office to find out why his friend and co-worker was collecting double his pay. The clerk explained, “Knicker Stitchers are unskilled labor and Diesel Fitters are skilled labor.”

“What skill?” yelled Paddy. “I sew da elastic on da knickers and thongs, then Mick puts ‘em over his head and says: ‘Yep, dees’ll fit ‘er.’

Spanish Delicacy

An American touring Spain stopped at a local restaurant following a day of sightseeing. While sipping his sangria, he noticed a sizzling, scrumptious looking platter being served at the next table. Not only did it look good, the smell was wonderful. He asked the waiter, “What is that you just served?”

The waiter replied, ”Ah senor, you have excellent taste! Those are bulls testicles from the bull fight this morning. A delicacy!”

The American, though momentarily daunted, said, “What the hell, I’m on vacation! Bring me an order!”

The waiter replied, “I am so sorry senor. There is only one serving per day because there is only one bull fight each morning. If you come early tomorrow and place your order, we will be sure to save you this delicacy!”

The next morning, the American returned, placed his order, and then that evening he was served the one and only special delicacy of the day. After a few bites, and inspecting the contents of his platter, he called to the waiter and said, “These are delicious, but they are much, much smaller than the ones I saw you serve yesterday!”

The waiter shrugged his shoulders and replied, “Si senor. Sometimes the bull wins.”

Odd Rabbi Out

Four rabbi friends were discussing a criminal mystery that has boggled the minds of the whole community. They’ve been talking about this for weeks.

After presenting his explanation for, what seemed like tenth time, one rabbi cried “I told you I am right. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.” However, his friends insisted that nothing had happened that could not be explained by other causes.

The rabbi was getting ready to ask for a VERY big sign, but just as he said, “Oh God…,” the sky turned pitch black, the earth shook, and a deep, booming voice intoned, “HEEEEEEEE’S RIIIIIIIGHT!”

The rabbi put his hands on his hips, turned to the other three, and said, “Well?”

“So,” shrugged one of the other rabbis, “now it’s 3 to 2.”

Dishwasher Repairman

Mrs. Peterson phoned the repairman because her dishwasher quit working. He couldn’t accommodate her with an “after-hours” appointment and since she had to go to work, she told him, “I’ll leave the key under the mat. Fix the dishwasher, leave the bill on the counter, and I’ll mail you a check. By the way, I have a large Rottweiler inside named Killer; he won’t bother you. I also have a parrot, and whatever you do, do not talk to the bird!”

Well, sure enough the dog, Killer, totally ignored the repairman, but the whole time he was there, the parrot cursed, yelled, screamed, and about drove him nuts.

As he was ready to leave, he couldn’t resist saying, “You stupid bird, why don’t you shut up!”

To which the bird replied, “Killer, get him!!!”

Obituary Submission

A woman goes into the local newspaper office to see that the obituary for her recently deceased husband is published.

After the editor informs her that the fee for the obituary is 50 cents a word, she pauses, reflects and then says, “Well, then, let it read ‘Fred Brown died’.”

Confounded at the woman’s thrift, the editor stammers that there is a 7-word minimum for all obituaries. The woman pauses again, counts on her fingers and replies, “In that case, make it read ‘Fred Brown died: 1983 Pick-up for sale.'”

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