The sailor came home from a secret two-year mission only to find his wife with a new-born baby. Furious, he was determined to track down the father to extract revenge.
“Just tell me one thing! Which one of my no-good friends did this?” he asked.
“Don’t you think I have any friends of my own?” she snapped.
A dedicated union worker was attending a convention in Las Vegas and, as you would expect, decided to check out the local brothels nearby. When he got to the first one, he asked the madam, “Is this a union house?”
“No,” she replied, “I’m sorry it isn’t.”
“Well, if I pay you $100, what cut do the girls get?”
“The house gets $80 and the girls get $20.”
Mightily offended at such unfair dealings, the man stomped off down the street in search of a more equitable, hopefully unionized shop.
His search continued until finally he reached a brothel where the madame responded, “Why yes sir, this IS a union house.”
The man asked, “And if I pay you $100, what cut do the girls get?”
“The girls get $80 and the house gets $20.”
“That’s more like it!” the UPS man said. He looked around the room and pointed to a stunningly attractive blonde. “I’d like her for the night.”
“I’m sure you would, sir,” said the madame, then, gesturing to an obese fifty-five year old woman in the corner, “but Ethel here has seniority.”
Q: How many Macintosh users does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None. You have to replace the whole motherboard.
Q: How many poets does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Three. One to curse the darkness, one to light a candle… and one to change the bulb.
Q: How many football players does it take to change a light bulb?
A: The entire team! And they all get a semester’s credit for it!
Q: How many cops does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: None. It turned itself in.
Q: How many Bratzlaver Chassidim does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None. They will never find one that burned as brightly as the first one.
Q: How many feminists does it take to change a light bulb?
A: That’s not funny!!!
Q: How many Marxists does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: None; The light bulb contains the seeds of its own revolution.
Q: How many hardware folks does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None. They just have marketing portray the dead bulb as a feature.
Q: How many software people does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: None. That’s a hardware problem.
Q: How many psychiatrists does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Only one, but the bulb has got to really WANT to change.
Two deputies in the Sheriff’s Office, one who had been in town for ten years and the other who had just transferred, answered an emergency call. When they walked into the house, they found the nude bodies of a man and a woman in the bedroom. They had been shot to death. When they went to the living room, they found the body of a man with a gun at his side.
“No doubt about it,” the new deputy said, “This was a double murder and suicide. This guy came home and found his wife in bed with somebody else and shot them both. Then he shot himself.”
“You’re right,” the experienced deputy replied. “But I’ll bet you when the sheriff gets here he’s going to say, ‘it could have been worse’.”
“No way. You’re on.”
The old sheriff arrived at the scene. “No doubt about it,” the sheriff said, shaking his head. “It was a double murder and suicide.” After hesitating for a moment, the old sheriff looked his deputies in the eyes.
“But, you know,” he said, “it could have been worse.”
The deputy who had lost the bet jumped up and shouted, “Sheriff, how could it have been worse? There are three people in this house, and all three of them are dead. It couldn’t have been worse.”
“Yes, it could,” the sheriff retorted. “You see that guy there on the floor? If he had come home yesterday, that would be me!”
In 2031, President Clinton finishes his time on earth and approaches the Pearly Gates of Heaven…
“And who might you be?” inquires St. Peter. “It’s me, Bill Clinton, formerly the President of the United States and Leader of the Free World.”
“Oh…Mr……. President! What may I do for you?” asks St. Peter. “I’d like to come in,” replies Clinton.
“Sure,” says the Saint. “But first, you have to confess your sins. What bad things have you done in your life?”
Clinton bites his lip and answers, “Well, I tried marijuana, but you can’t call it ‘dope-smoking’ because I didn’t inhale. There were inappropriate extramarital relationships, but you can’t call it ‘adultery’ because I didn’t have full ‘sexual relations.’ And I made some statements that were misleading, but legally accurate, but you can’t call it ‘bearing false witness’ because, as far as I know, it didn’t meet the legal standard of perjury.”
With that, St. Peter consults the Book of Life briefly, and declares, “OK, here’s the deal. We’ll send you somewhere hot, but we won’t call it ‘Hell.’ You’ll be there indefinitely, but we won’t call it ‘eternity.’ And when you enter, you don’t have to abandon all hope, just hold your breath waiting for it to freeze over.”
A man was eating at a diner, when a well-dressed man sitting next to him said, “Excuse me for intruding, but I could not help noticing your accent. Are you from Krakow?”
“Yes, I am,” replied the surprised man.
“It is so nice to meet a land kinsman here in America,” said the well-dressed man. “I tell you what. I am a vice-president at the napkin factory. If you ever need a job, give me a call and I will be happy to set you up.”
Six months go by, and the man loses his job, and decides to call his new friend. He had completely forgotten the man’s name at this point, so he decided to take a shot in the dark.
The receptionist answered, and he asked, “Pardon me, do you have a Krakauer there?”
“Sir,” she replied, “we don’t even get a coffee break!”