A man was walking in the street when he heard a voice. "Stop! Stand still! If you take one more step, a brick will fall down on your head and kill you." The man stopped and a big brick fell right in front of him. The man was astonished. He went on, and after awhile he was going to cross the road. Once again the voice shouted: "Stop! Stand still! If you take one more step a car will run over you and you will die." The man did as he was instructed, just as a car came careening around the corner, barely missing him.
"Where are you?" the man asked. "Who are you?" "I am your guardian angel," the voice answered. "Oh yeah?" the man asked. " And where the hell were you when I got married?"
1. Your body's name must be Visa, because it's everywhere I want to be
2. Can I buy you a drink, or do you just want the money?
3. I may not be Fred Flintstone, but I bet I can make your bed rock
4. I may not be the best looking guy here, but I'm the only one talking to you.
5. Yo Baby, you be my Dairy Queen, I'll be your Burger King, you treat me right, and I'll do it your way
6. Excuse me, do you have your phone number, I seem to have lost mine.
7. I can't find my puppy, can you help me find him? I think he went into this cheap motel room.
8. I'm new in town, could I have directions to your house.
9. If you were a new hamburger at McDonald's, you would be McGorgeous.
10. You might not be the best looking girl here, but beauty is only a light switch away.
Phone conversations last 30 seconds.
A 5-day vacation requires only one suitcase.
Bathroom lines are 80% shorter.
You can open all your own jars.
Old friends don't give you crap if you've lost or gained weight.
You don't have to lug a bag of "necessary" items with you everywhere you go.
You can go to the bathroom alone.
Your last name stays put.
You can leave a hotel room bed unmade.
You can kill your own food.
The garage is all yours.
You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.
You never have to clean the toilet.
You can be showered and ready in 10 minutes.
Wedding plans take care of themselves.
If someone forgets to invite you to something, they can still be your friend.
Your underwear cost $7.50 for a pack of 3.
None of your co-workers have the power to make you cry.
If you're 34 and single, no one notices.
Chocolate is just another snack.
Flowers fix everything.
You never have to worry about other's feelings.
You can say anything and not worry about what people think.
You can whip your shirt off on a hot day.
Car mechanics tell you the truth.
You don't flip if someone doesn't notice your new haircut.
One mood, all the time.
You can admire Clint Eastwood without having to starve yourself to look like him.
Same work...more pay.
Gray hair and wrinkles add character.
Wedding dress $2000, Tux rental 100 bucks.
You don't care if someone is talking behind your back.
You don't pass on the desert and then mooch off someone's else's.
If you retain water, it is in a canteen.
The remote control is yours alone.
If another guy shows up at the party in the same outfit, you might become lifelong buddies.
New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet.
Helium was up, feathers were down.
Paper was stationary.
Fluorescent tubing was dimmed in light trading.
Knives were up sharply.
Cows steered into a bull market.
Pencils lost a few points.
Hiking equipment was trailing.
Elevators rose, while escalators continued their slow decline.
Weights were up in heavy trading.
Light switches were off.
Mining equipment hit rock bottom.
Shipping lines stayed at an even keel.
The market for raisins dried up.
Coca Cola fizzled.
Caterpillar stock inched up a bit.
Sun peaked at midday.
Balloon prices were inflated.
Batteries exploded in an attempt to recharge the market.
Diapers remain unchanged.
... and Scott Tissue touched a new bottom.
The men wrote: "Woman, without her man, is nothing."
The women wrote: "Woman! Without her, man is nothing."
When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter's chest. He would open the door and immediately affect my good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.
Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter's suitors feel even worse. My motto: wilt them in the living room and they'll stay wilted all night. "So," I'll call out jovially. "I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you're stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?"
As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure as heck not picking anything up.
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I WILL kill you.
In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her Adams apple. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaw are okay. Hockey games are okay.
My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too-- there are only eight of them, for crying out loud! And, for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them. (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive.) I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate --ink washes off--and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.
One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter's would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times) she asked me why I was being so hard on the boy. "Don't you remember being that age?" she challenged. Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the eight simple rules?
Two rednecks decided that they weren't going anywhere in life and thought they should go to college to get ahead. The first goes in to see the counselor, who tells him to take Math, History, and Logic. "What's Logic?" the first redneck asks. The professor answers by saying, "Let me give you an example. Do you own a weedeater?" "I sure do." "Then I can assume, using logic, that you have a yard," replied the professor. "That's real good!" says the redneck. The professor continues, "Logic will also tell me that since you have a yard, you also own a house." Impressed, the redneck says, "Amazin!" "And since you own a house, logic dictates that you have a wife." "That's Betty Mae! This is incredible!" The redneck is obviously catching on. "Finally, since you have a wife, logically I can assume that you are heterosexual," said the professor. "You're absolutely right! Why that's the most fascinatin' thing I ever heard! I cain't wait to take that logic class!!"
The redneck, proud of the new world opening up to him, walks back into the hallway, where his friend is still waiting. "So what classes are ya takin'?" asks the friend. "Math, History, and Logic!" replies the first redneck. "What in tarnation is logic???" asked his friend. "Let me give you an example. Do ya own a weedeater?" asked the first redneck. "No," his friend replied. "SO YOU LIKE GUYS, Don t Ya ?"
A duck hunter was out one day having no luck. He hunted the whole morning and couldn't get a single kill. On the way home, he approached a farm house, and flying over the barnyard was a big flock of fat mallards. Seeing his last chance for success, he took aim at what looked like the biggest one and gave it both barrels. The duck fell from the sky and landed in the middle of the barnyard. As he neared the barnyard and the dead duck, the hunter could see he'd got himself a beauty. But when he was a mere 20 paces from the duck, a farmer emerged from the barn, scooped up the duck and headed for his house.
"Hey!" said the hunter. "Come back with my duck!" "Your duck?" returned the farmer. "It was laying in my barnyard. MY duck." "No! No! You don't understand! I shot it and it just happened to fall here. It's mine!" shouted the hunter. "Okay, city fella. We'll settle this the country way," said the farmer. "Country way? What's that?" said the hunter. "We take turns hitting each as hard as we can," said the farmer. "Last man standing wins the duck. That is, unless you're yella." "Of course I'm not," said the hunter. "Country way it is." "Fine," said the farmer. "Since we're on my property, I'll go first." Hunter: "Suits me."
With that, the farmer took a half step back, steadied himself, and kicked the hunter square in the crotch as hard as humanly possible. The hunter screamed like an animal for 15 minutes. He curled up in a ball, turned three shades of purple and nearly died. After a full half-hour and with considerable difficulty, the hunter straightened up and gasped, "Now ... my ... turn ..."
The farmer replied: "Nah, I give up. Here's your duck."
