Two philosophy professors were walking down the street when they noticed two women yelling across the street at each other from their apartment windows.
"Of course they will never come to agreement," said one professor.
"Why is that?" asked the second.
"Because they are arguing from different premises."
Tired of being broke and stuck in an unhappy marriage, a young husband decides to solve both problems by taking out a large insurance policy on his wife, with himself as beneficiary, and arranging to have her killed.
A "friend of a friend" put him in touch with a nefarious underworld figure that went by the name "Artie".
Artie explained to the husband that his going price for snuffing out a spouse was $5,000. The husband said he was willing to pay that amount but he couldn't have any cash on hand until he could collect on his wife's insurance money. Artie insisted on being paid something up front. The man opened up his wallet, displaying a single dollar bill that rested inside.
Artie sighed, rolled his eyes, and reluctantly agreed to accept the dollar as a down payment for the dirty deed.
A few days later, Artie followed the man's wife into the local Safeway grocery store. There he surprised her in the produce department and proceeded to strangle her with his gloved hands. As the poor unsuspecting woman drew her last breath and slumped to the floor, the manager of the produce department stumbled onto the scene.
Unwilling to leave any witnesses behind, Artie had no choice but to strangle the produce manager as well.
Unknown to Artie, the entire proceedings was captured by hidden cameras and observed by the store's security guard, who immediately called the police.
Artie was caught and arrested before he could leave the store.
Under intense questioning at the police station, Artie revealed the sordid plan, including his financial arrangements with the hapless husband. And that is why the next day in the newspaper, the headlines declared:
"ARTIE CHOKES TWO FOR A DOLLAR AT SAFEWAY"'
__._,_.___
HOW TO CALL THE POLICE
WHEN YOU'RE OLD AND
DON'T MOVE FAST ANYMORE.
George Phillips of Meridian, Mississippi was going up to bed when his wife told him that he'd left the light on in the garden shed, which she could see from the bedroom window.
George opened the back door to go turn off the light but saw that there were people in the shed stealing things. He phoned the police, who asked "Is someone in your house?"
He said "NO". Then they said that all patrols were busy , and that he should simply lock his door and an officer would be along when available.
George said, 'Okay,' hung up, counted to 30, and phoned the police again. 'Hello, I just called you a few seconds ago because there were people stealing things from my shed.
Well, you don't have to worry about them now because I just shot them.' Then he hung up.
Within five minutes six police cars, a SWAT Team, a helicopter, two fire trucks, a paramedic and an ambulance showed up at the Phillips' residence and caught the burglars red-handed.
One of the Policemen said to George: " I thought you said that you'd shot them!
"George said, "I thought you said there was nobody available!"
I LOVE IT
Don't mess with old people.
Don't forget your flu shot!!!! Eat right! Make sure you get your daily dose of fruits and veggies. Take your vitamins and bump up your vitamin C. Get plenty of exercise because exercise helps build your immune system. Walk for at least an hour a day. Go for a swim. Take the stairs instead of the elevator, etc. Wash your hands often. If you can't wash them, keep a bottle of antibacterial stuff around. Get lots of fresh air. Open doors and windows whenever possible. Try to eliminate as much stress from your life as you can. Get plenty of rest.
OR Take the doctor's approach.
Think about it...When you go for a shot, what do they do first? They clean your arm with alcohol. Why? Because Alcohol KILLS GERMS. So.......
I walk into the liquor store. (exercise)
I put lime in my Corona ...(fruit)
I put celery in my Bloody Mary (veggies, two or more kinds)
I drink outdoors on the bar patio..(fresh air)
I tell jokes, laugh....(eliminate stress)
Then I pass out. (rest)
The way I see it, if you keep your alcohol levels up, flu germs can't get you?
My mother always said, 'A shot in the glass is better than one in the ass!'
Not looking good...
Not looking good for that bailout plan..... true story; and during the administration of Bush the Elder...
Back in 1990, the Government seized the Mustang Ranch brothel in Nevada for tax evasion and, as required by law, tried to run it.
They failed and it closed.
Now we are trusting the entire economy of our country to a pack of nit-wits who couldn't make money running a whore house and selling booze?
It's a small world, so you gotta use your elbows a lot.
Financial Stress Read Laugh and be Merry
** From the BBC, some Q&A:
* What is the definition of optimism?
o An investment banker ironing five shirts on a Sunday night
* What is the one thing Wall Street and the Olympics have in common?
o Synchronized diving
* Why are all MBAs going back to school?
o To ask for their money back.
** Heard on New York's Park Avenue, just before the crash:
A young banker goes to the finest tailor in town and asks for a custom-made suit. He gets measured and comes back a week later. The suit looks stunning. But the banker notices there are no pockets. He mentions it to the tailor, outraged.
Says the tailor, "Didn't you tell me you were a banker?"
"Well yes," says the banker, "but..."
Says the tailor, "Who ever heard of a banker with his hands in his own pockets?"
** Found in the financial dictionary:
"FINANCIAL ANALYST (n): an expert who thinks nine women can produce a child in one month."
"MARKET ANALYST (n): an expert who will know tomorrow why the things he predicted yesterday didn't happen today."
"STOCKBROKER (n): an expert who invests your money in things called 'stocks' until you go 'broke.'"
"BANK (n): an institution that's happy to lend you money, just as long as you can prove you don't need it."
Heard in a hospital corridor:
A stockbroker, suffering a nervous breakdown from the Wall Street crash, gets taken to the hospital to rest.
In a daze, he overhears a nurse tell the doctor: "His temperature just hit 102."
The broker lifts his head weakly and says, "When it gets to 102 1/2... sell."
** Did you hear about the stockbroker who went down to Mexico after losing his job?
He found himself in a small coastal village, sipping Coronas as the fishing boats rolled in. A fisherman pulled up close by with three freshly caught tuna in his boat.
After tying onto the dock, the fisherman sat back, pulled a beer from a cooler, and put up his feet. He had a beat-up guitar in the boat and took it up to strum.
"Say," said the broker, trying to make conversation, "How long does it take to catch one of those beauties?"
"Oh," said the fisherman, "only a little while."
"Well then, why don't you stay out longer and catch more fish," said the broker. "That way you'd have more to sell... you'd make a lot more money."
"Senor," replied the fisherman, "what do I need weeth more money? I have enough for my family, some fresh fish for our dinner, thees cerveza... my friends, my guitar..."
"Well," said the broker, "with more money, you could buy an even bigger boat. You could also hire help. Then you'd catch even more fish and you could buy a whole fleet. Pretty soon, you'd corner the local tuna market and you could expand up the coast. With the money, you could open a cannery and pick up distribution to markets in the U.S. You'd need a head office in, say, New York... but then you could come to me and I'd show you how to invest your extra net revenue. We could even IPO to the public... you'd be worth millions!"
"Senor, thees sounds great," said the fisherman, "but then what would I do weeth all my free time?"
"That's the best part" said the broker, "at that point, you just get the board to buy you out with some stock options... and you retire... maybe take up a place in a small villa on the coast and get yourself a boat... where you can hang out all day drinking beer, strumming your guitar, and spending time with your friends and family."
Said the fisherman, "Sounds like heaven."
P.S. This just in:
The White House announced today that they have successfully sold the Louisiana Purchase back to the French.
"Not only that" said the President told the press, "we got the suckers to pay double the original $11.3 million we paid to buy it in the first place!"
** Reported in a travel magazine:
A New Yorker wandered into a butcher shop, on an island -- it turned out -- inhabited entirely by cannibals. He spots a sign that says...
* "Artists' Brains $9/lb
* Philosophers' Brains $12/lb
* Scientists' Brains $15/lb
* Stock Broker Brains $49/lb "
"Wow," says the New Yorker, "you must have big demand for stock broker brains!"
"Nope," says the cannibal butcher, "we're lucky if we sell a pound a year."
"But why is the price so high?" asks the New Yorker.
Says the butcher, "Do you have any idea how many stock brokers it takes to get a pound of brains?
** Overheard at the bus stop:
"I went to the store to buy a toaster. It came with a free bank."
** Overheard at the next table in a local café:
A young woman is talking to another woman. "I'm thinking of leaving my economist husband," she says.” All he ever does is stand at the end of the bed and tell me how good things are going to be."
** Overheard in the waiting room at the doctor's office:
A doctor tells the woman in his office that she has just a year to live. "My goodness," she says, "isn't there anything I can do?"
"Yes," he says, "leave your husband and marry one of the junior economists who works at the Federal Reserve in Washington, D.C."
Asks the woman, confused, "And that will cure me?"
"No," says the doctor, "but it will make the time you have left seem twice as long."
This is from newshound Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis . Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!'
I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box
large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America 's enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my
preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically
water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter
plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowel movement may result.' This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.
MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this is, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this
particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate.
'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.
Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite humorous..... A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies:
1. 'Take it easy, Doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before!
2. 'Find Amelia Earhart yet?'
3. 'Can you hear me NOW?'
4. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'
5. 'You know, in Arkansas , we're now legally married.'
6. 'Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'
7. 'You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out...'
8. 'Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!'
9. 'If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit!
10. 'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'
11. 'You used to be an executive at Enron, didn't you?'
12. 'God, now I know why I am not gay.'
And the best one of all.
13. 'Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?'
What is the difference between a pigeon and a banker?
A pigeon can still put down a deposit on a BMW.
Adult Cartoons - Thanks Sam
