A chicken and an egg are lying in bed.
The chicken is leaning against the headboard smoking a cigarette with a satisfied smile on its face.
The egg, looking a bit pissed off, grabs the sheet, rolls over and says, "Well, I guess we finally answered THAT question."
July 05, 2008
My Son the Vet
One Sunday, in counting the money in the weekly offering, the pastor of a small Florida church found a pink envelope containing $1000. It happened again the next week.
The following Sunday, he watched as the offering was collected and saw a little old lady put the distinctive pink envelope in the plate. This went on for weeks until the pastor, overcome by curiosity, approached her.
"Ma'am, I couldn't help but notice that you put $1,000 a week in the collection plate," he said.
"Why yes," she replied, "every week my son sends me money, and I give some of it to the church."
The pastor replied, "That's wonderful, how much does he send you?"
The old lady said, "$10,000 a week."
The pastor was amazed. "Your son is very successful; what does he do for a living?"
"He is a veterinarian," she answered.
"That is an honorable profession," the pastor said. "Where does he practice?"
The old lady said proudly, "In Nevada. He has two cathouses in Las Vegas and one in Reno."
The following Sunday, he watched as the offering was collected and saw a little old lady put the distinctive pink envelope in the plate. This went on for weeks until the pastor, overcome by curiosity, approached her.
"Ma'am, I couldn't help but notice that you put $1,000 a week in the collection plate," he said.
"Why yes," she replied, "every week my son sends me money, and I give some of it to the church."
The pastor replied, "That's wonderful, how much does he send you?"
The old lady said, "$10,000 a week."
The pastor was amazed. "Your son is very successful; what does he do for a living?"
"He is a veterinarian," she answered.
"That is an honorable profession," the pastor said. "Where does he practice?"
The old lady said proudly, "In Nevada. He has two cathouses in Las Vegas and one in Reno."
Are You Sick?
This old man in his eighties gets up and puts on his coat.
His wife says, "Where are you going?"
He answers, "I'm going to the doctor."
And she said, "Are you sick?"
"No" he said, "I'm going to get me some of those new Viagra pills."
So his wife gets out of her rocker and puts on her coat.
He said," Where are you going?"
She said, "I'm going to the doctor, too."
He said, "Why?"
She said, "If you're going to start using that rusty old thing, I'm going to get me a tetanus shot."
His wife says, "Where are you going?"
He answers, "I'm going to the doctor."
And she said, "Are you sick?"
"No" he said, "I'm going to get me some of those new Viagra pills."
So his wife gets out of her rocker and puts on her coat.
He said," Where are you going?"
She said, "I'm going to the doctor, too."
He said, "Why?"
She said, "If you're going to start using that rusty old thing, I'm going to get me a tetanus shot."
Depressed Lawyer
An attorney got home late one evening, after a very taxing day trying to get a stay of execution for a client, named Wil Wright, who was due to be hanged for murder at midnight. His last-minute plea for clemency to the governor had failed and he was feeling tired and depressed.
As soon as he got through the door his wife started on about, Do you know what time it is? Where have you been? and on and on.
Too shattered to play his usual role in this familiar ritual, he poured himself a very large whisky and headed off for a long hot soak in the bathtub... pursued by the predictable sarcastic remarks.
While he was in the bath the phone rang, which the wife answered and was told that her husband's client had been granted his stay of execution after all.
Realizing what a day he must have had, she relented a little and went upstairs to give him the good news. As she opened the bathroom door she was greeted by the sight of her husband's rear view as he bent over naked drying his legs and feet.
"They're not hanging Wright tonight," she said.
The attorney whirled around and screamed, "For crying out loud, woman, don't you ever stop?"
As soon as he got through the door his wife started on about, Do you know what time it is? Where have you been? and on and on.
Too shattered to play his usual role in this familiar ritual, he poured himself a very large whisky and headed off for a long hot soak in the bathtub... pursued by the predictable sarcastic remarks.
While he was in the bath the phone rang, which the wife answered and was told that her husband's client had been granted his stay of execution after all.
Realizing what a day he must have had, she relented a little and went upstairs to give him the good news. As she opened the bathroom door she was greeted by the sight of her husband's rear view as he bent over naked drying his legs and feet.
"They're not hanging Wright tonight," she said.
The attorney whirled around and screamed, "For crying out loud, woman, don't you ever stop?"
Trip to Rome
A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her boyfriend. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded, "Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty and full of Italians. You're crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?"
"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "We got a great rate!"
"Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser. "That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. Where are you staying in Rome?"
"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome's Tiber River called Teste."
"Don't go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks its gonna be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump, the worst hotel in the city! The rooms are small, the service is surly, and they're overpriced. So, whatcha doing when you get there?"
"We're going to go to see the Vatican and we hope to see the Pope."
"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. "You and a million other people trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."
A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.
"It was wonderful," explained the woman, "not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot. The hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"
"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know you didn't get to see the Pope."
"Actually, we were lucky because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me. And sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."
"Oh Really what did he say?” asked the surprised hairdresser.
He said, “Where'd you get the shitty hairdo?”
"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "We got a great rate!"
"Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser. "That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. Where are you staying in Rome?"
"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome's Tiber River called Teste."
"Don't go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks its gonna be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump, the worst hotel in the city! The rooms are small, the service is surly, and they're overpriced. So, whatcha doing when you get there?"
"We're going to go to see the Vatican and we hope to see the Pope."
"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. "You and a million other people trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."
A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.
"It was wonderful," explained the woman, "not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot. The hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"
"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know you didn't get to see the Pope."
"Actually, we were lucky because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me. And sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."
"Oh Really what did he say?” asked the surprised hairdresser.
He said, “Where'd you get the shitty hairdo?”
What Will He Be ?
I remember the story about the old country preacher who had a teenage son and it was getting time the boy should give some thought to the idea of choosing a profession. Like many young men, then and now, the boy didn't really know what he wanted to do and he didn't seem overly concerned about it.
One day, while the boy was away at school, his father decided to try an experiment. What he did was, he went into the boy's room and placed on his study table these three objects: a Bible, a silver dollar, and a bottle of whiskey...
"Now then," the old preacher said to himself, "I'll just hide behind the door here, and when my son comes home from school this afternoon, I'll see which of these three objects he picks up. If he picks up the Bible, he's going to be a preacher like me, and what a blessing that would be! If he picks up the dollar, he's going to be a businessman, and that would be o.k. too. But if he picks up the bottle, he's going to be a drunkard - a no-good drunkard and Lord, what a shame that would be."
The old man was anxious as he waited, and soon he heard his son's footsteps as he came in the house whistling and headed back to his room. He deposited his books on the bed, as a matter of routine, and as he turned around to leave the room he spotted the objects on the table. With a curious set in his eye, he walked over to inspect them. What he finally did was, he picked up the Bible and placed it under his arm. He picked up the silver dollar and dropped it into his pocket. He uncorked the bottle and took a long drink...
"Oh Lord," the old man whispered, "He's gonna be a politician!"
One day, while the boy was away at school, his father decided to try an experiment. What he did was, he went into the boy's room and placed on his study table these three objects: a Bible, a silver dollar, and a bottle of whiskey...
"Now then," the old preacher said to himself, "I'll just hide behind the door here, and when my son comes home from school this afternoon, I'll see which of these three objects he picks up. If he picks up the Bible, he's going to be a preacher like me, and what a blessing that would be! If he picks up the dollar, he's going to be a businessman, and that would be o.k. too. But if he picks up the bottle, he's going to be a drunkard - a no-good drunkard and Lord, what a shame that would be."
The old man was anxious as he waited, and soon he heard his son's footsteps as he came in the house whistling and headed back to his room. He deposited his books on the bed, as a matter of routine, and as he turned around to leave the room he spotted the objects on the table. With a curious set in his eye, he walked over to inspect them. What he finally did was, he picked up the Bible and placed it under his arm. He picked up the silver dollar and dropped it into his pocket. He uncorked the bottle and took a long drink...
"Oh Lord," the old man whispered, "He's gonna be a politician!"
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