Jokes of the day for Friday, 22 July 2016

Jack has died. His lawyer is s...

Jack has died. His lawyer is standing before the family and reads Jack's last will and testament:
"To my dear wife Esther, I leave the house, 50 acres of land, and one million dollars. To my son Barry, I leave my big Lexus and the Jaguar. To my daughter Suzy, I leave my yacht and $250,000. And to my brother-in-law Jeff, who always insisted that health is better than wealth, I leave my sun lamp."

I used to work at a...

“I used to work at a knife factory, but then it got dull.”

Your house plants are alive, a

Your house plants are alive, and you can't smoke any of them.
Having sex in a twin bed is out of the question.
You keep more food than beer in the fridge.
6:00 AM is when you get up, not when you go to bed.
You hear your favorite song on an elevator.
You watch the Weather Channel.
Your friends marry and divorce instead of hook up and break up.
You go from 130 days of vacation time to 14.
Jeans and a sweater no longer qualify as "dressed up."
You're the one calling the police because those damn kids nextdoor won't turn down the stereo.
Older relatives feel comfortable telling sex jokes around you.
You don't know what time Taco Bell closes anymore.
Your car insurance goes down and your payments go up.
You feed your dog Science Diet instead of McDonalds leftovers.
Sleeping on the couch makes your back hurt.
You no longer take naps from noon to 6 PM.
Dinner and a movie is the whole date instead of the beginning of one.
Eating a basket of chicken wings at 3 AM would severely upset,rather than settle, your stomach.
You go to the drug store for ibuprofen and antacid, not condomsand pregnancy tests.
A $4.00 bottle of wine is no longer "pretty good stuff."
You actually eat breakfast food at breakfast time.
"I just can't drink the way I used to," replaces, "I'm nevergoing to drink that much again."
90% of the time you spend in front of a computer is for realwork.
You no longer drink at home to save money before going to a bar.
You read this entire list looking desperately for one sign that doesn't apply to you!!!

Good news and bad news....

A doctor enters into a patient's room and informs the patient that he has good news and bad news. He then asks the patient which news he would like to hear.

The patient responds, "Doctor, give me the good news."

The doctor says, "Well we are gonna name a disease after you."

 Real News Headlines 01

These are actual newspaper headlines gathered from papers across the country.
Include your Children when Baking Cookies
Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Expert Says
Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers
Safety Experts Say School Bus Passengers Should Be Belted
Drunk Gets Nine Months in Violin Case
Survivor of Siamese Twins Joins Parents
Farmer Bill Dies in House
Iraqi Head Seeks Arms
Is There a Ring of Debris Around Uranus?

Pretty normal

A woman went to see her psychiatrist. "I'm really concerned," she said. "The other day I found my daughter and the little boy next door together, naked, examining each other's bodies and giggling."

The psychiatrist smiled. "That's nothing to worry about, it's pretty normal."

"Well, I don't know," said the woman, "It worries me. It worries my daughter's husband too."

Dane Cook: By a Round of Applause

Comedy crowds -- we always want to come out and ask you, How you feeling? We always say that, By a round of applause, how do you feel? Right? By a round of applause, how you feeling? Its the only place in the world that you judge how youre feeling by a round of applause... Theres never like a car accident, people all over the ground, people running over -- Maam! Maam! By a round of applause, how do you feel? By a round of applause -- shes not clapping!

Three Blonds On Death Row

Three women are about to be executed for crimes. One's a brunette, one's a redhead, and one's a blonde.
Two guards brings the brunette forward, and the executioner asks if she has any last requests. She says no, and the executioner shouts, "Ready . . . Aim . . ."
Suddenly the brunette yells, "earthquake!!" Everyone is startled and looks around. She manages to escape.
The angry guards then bring the redhead forward, and the executioner asks if she has any last requests. She says no, and the executioner shouts, "Ready . . . Aim . . ."
The redhead then screams, "tornado!!" Yet again, everyone is startled and looks around. She too escapes execution.
By this point, the blonde had figured out what the others did. The guards bring her forward, and the executioner asks if she has any last requests. She also says no, and the executioner shouts, Ready . . . Aim . . ."
The blonde shouts, "fire!!"

Santa is a Woman

I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he's a she.

Think about it. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull it all off!

For starters, the vast majority of men don't even think about selecting gifts until Christmas Eve. It's as if they are all frozen in some kind of Ebenezerian Time Warp until 3 p.m. on Dec. 24th, when they – with amazing calm – call other errant men and plan for a last-minute shopping spree.

Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets and mood rings left on the shelves. (You might think this would send them into a fit of panic and guilt, but my husband tells me it's an enormous relief because it lessens the 11th-hour decision-making burden.) On this count alone, I'm convinced Santa is a woman.

Surely, if he were a man, everyone in the universe would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating musical Chia Pet under the tree, still in the bag.

Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all, there would be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted, and strapped on to the rear bumper of the sleigh, amid wide-eyed, desperate claims that buck season had been extended. Blitzen's rack would already be on the way to the taxidermist.

Even if the male Santa did have reindeer, he'd still have transportation problems because he would inevitably get lost in the snow and clouds, and then refuse to stop and ask for directions.

Add to this the fact that there would be unavoidable delays in the chimney, where the Bob Vila-like Santa would stop to inspect and repoint bricks in the flue. He would also need to check for carbon monoxide fumes in every gas fireplace, and get under every Christmas tree that is crooked to straighten it to a perfectly upright 90-degree angle.

Other reasons why Santa can't possibly be a man:
- Men can't pack a bag.
- Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.
- Men would feel their masculinity is threatened, having to be seen with all those elves.
- Men don't answer their mail.
- Men would refuse to allow their physique to be described, even in jest, as anything remotely resembling a “bowlful of jelly.”
- Finally, being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment.

I can buy the fact that other mythical holiday characters are men. Father Time shows up once a year unshaven and looking ominous. Definite guy. Cupid flies around carrying weapons. Uncle Sam is a politician who likes to point fingers. Any one of these individuals could pass the testosterone screening test. But not St. Nick. Not a chance.

Business one-liners 65

If ignorance is bliss, most of us must be orgasmic.

If it can be borrowed and it can be broken, you will borrow it and you will break it.

If it doesn't make sense, it's either economics or psychology.

If it doesn't work, expand it.

If it happens, it must be possible.

If it is good, they will stop making it.

If it is incomprehensible, it's mathematics.

If it is worth doing, it is worth doing for money.

If it is worth doing, it is worth over-doing.

If it jams, force it. If it breaks, it needed replacing anyway.

Room for fungi

How much room is needed for fungi to grow?

As mushroom as possible.

When I saw the depressed mathe...

When I saw the depressed mathematician, I asked “What sum adder with you?”

The Healer

A semi-crippled Libertarian came into a bar and with difficulty, hoisted his bad leg over the bar stool, pulled himself up and asked for a sip of whiskey.

He looked down the bar and asked, "Is that Jesus down there?"

The bartender nodded and the Libertarian told him to give Jesus a whiskey also.

The next patron was an ailing Republican with a hunched back who moved slowly.

He shuffled up to the barstool and asked for a glass of wine. He also looked down the bar and asked if that was Jesus.

The bartender nodded and the Republican said to give Him a glass of wine also.

The third patron, a Democrat, swaggered in and said "Barkeep, give me a cold beer.

Hey, is that Jesus down there?"

The barkeep nodded, and the Democrat told him to give Jesus a cold one too.

As Jesus got up to leave, he walked over and touched the Libertarian and said, "For your kindness, you are healed!"

The Libertarian felt the strength come back to his leg, and he got up and danced a jig all the way to the door.

Jesus touched the republican and said, "For your kindness you are healed!"

The Republican felt his back straighten. He danced with joy and did a flip.

As Jesus walked toward the Democrat, the Democrat jumped back and exclaimed, "Don't touch me, I'm drawing disability!"

If you have an opinion about my life

If you have an opinion about my life, please raise your hand. Now put it over your mouth.

Knock-knock...

Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Dishes.
Dishes who?
Dishes the police! Come out with your hands up!