The executive was interviewing a young blonde for a position in his company.

He wanted to find out something about her personality so he asked,

"If you could have a conversation with someone, living or dead, who would it be?"

The blonde quickly responded, "The living one."

A nun was walking in the convent when one of the priests noticed she was gaining a little weight.

"Gaining a little weight are we sister Susan?" he asked.



"No, Father. Just a little gas," Sister Susan explained.



A month or so later the priest noticed that she had gained even more weight.

"Gaining some more weight are we Sister Susan?" he asked again.



"Oh no, Father. Just a little gas," she replied again.



A couple of months later the priest noticed Sister Susan pushing a baby carriage around the convent. He leaned over and looked in the carriage and said,... "Cute little fart."


An off-duty police officer, familiar with radar guns, drove through a school zone within the legal speed limit when the flash of a camera went off, taking a picture of his license plate.



The officer, thinking the radar was in error, drove by again; even more slowly. Another flash. He did it again for a third time, at an even slower speed. Same result.



"This guy must have screwed up the settings," the off-duty officer thought.



A few weeks later, when he received the violations in the mail, he discovered three traffic tickets: each for not wearing a seat belt!

If you ever testify in court, you might wish you could have been as sharp as this policeman. He was being cross-examined by a defense attorney during a felony trial. The lawyer was trying to undermine the policeman's credibility....

Q: "Officer -- did you see my client fleeing the scene?"

A: "No sir. But I subsequently observed a person matching the description of the offender,
running several blocks away."

Q: "Officer -- who provided this description?"

A: "The officer who responded to the scene."

Q: "A fellow officer provided the description of this so-called offender.
Do you trust your fellow officers?"

A: "Yes, sir. With my life."

Q: "With your life? Let me ask you this then officer.
Do you have a room where you change your clothes in preparation for your daily duties?"

A: "Yes sir, we do!"

Q: "And do you have a locker in the room?"

A: "Yes sir, I do."

Q: "And do you have a lock on your locker?"

A: "Yes sir."

Q: "Now why is it, officer, if you trust your fellow officers with your life,
you find it necessary to lock your locker in a room you share
with these same officers?"

A: "You see, sir -- we share the building with the court complex,
and sometimes lawyers have been known to walk through that room."

I am writing in response to your request for additional information.

In block #8 of the accident form, I put 'trying to do the job alone' as the cause of my accident. You said in your letter that I should explain more fully, and I trust that the following details will be sufficient.



I am a bricklayer by trade. On the date of the accident I was working alone on the roof of a new six story building. When I completed my work, I found that I had about 500 pounds of brick left over. Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley, which was fortunately attached to the side of the building at the sixth floor.

Securing the rope at the ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out, and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went back to the ground and untied the rope, holding it tightly to insure a slow descent of the 500 pounds of brick.


You will note in block #11 of the accident report that I weigh 170 pounds. Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rather rapid rate up the side of the building.

In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming down. This explains the fractured scull and the broken collarbone. Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley.

Fortunately, by this time, I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope, in spite of my pain.

At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground, and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Devoid of the weight of the bricks, the barrel then weighed approximately
50 pounds. I refer you again to my weight in block #11.



As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, and the lacerations of my legs and lower body area. The encounter with the barrel slowed me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell onto the pile of bricks, and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked.



I am sorry to report however, that as I lay there on the bricks, in pain, unable to stand, and watching the empty barrel six stories above me, I again lost my presence of mind and let go of the rope. The empty barrel weighted more than the rope, so it came back down on me and broke both my legs.



I hope I have furnished the information you requested

This is an article submitted to a 1999 Louisville Sentinel contest to find out who had the wildest Christmas dinners. It won first prize

Christmas With Louise

As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of pantyhose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them.

What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings were overflowing, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.

One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at Target. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown.

If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself. I was there for an hour saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're kidding me!" "Who would buy that?" Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section.

I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour. Finding what I wanted was difficult. "Love Dolls" come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for "Lovable Louise." She was at the bottom of the price scale.

To call Louise a "doll" took a huge leap of imagination. On Christmas Eve and with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning hours, long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went home and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more.

We all agreed that Louise should remain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner. My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in The door. "What the hell is that?" She asked. My brother quickly explained, "It's a doll."
"Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped. I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. "Where are her clothes?" Granny continued.

"Boy, that turkey sure smells nice , Gran," Jay said, to steer her into the dining room. But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?"

Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on, Granny, hang on!"

My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, "Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's Last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the pantyhose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa. The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants. Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car.

It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.

Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.

Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health. And Louise went on to star in several bachelor party movies.

Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away....

Is gender Work?

A U.S. Marine Colonel was about to start the morning briefing to his
staff. While waiting for the coffee machine to finish brewing, the
colonel decided to pose a question to all assembled.

He explained that his wife had been a bit frisky the night before and
he failed to get his usual amount of sound sleep. He posed the question of just
how much of gender was "work" and how much of it was "pleasure?"

A Major chimed in with 75%-25% in favor of work.

A Captain said it was 50%-50%.

A lieutenant responded with 25%-75% in favor of pleasure, depending

Upon his state of inebriation at the time.

There being no consensus, the colonel turned to the PFC who was in
charge of making the coffee and asked for his opinion?

Without any hesitation, the young PFC responded, "Sir, it has to be
100% pleasure.

The colonel was surprised and as you might guess, asked why?

"Well, sir, if there was any work involved, the officers would have me
doing it for them."

The room fell silent.

God Bless the enlisted man.

A man and his wife were having some problems at home and were giving each other the silent treatment.

Suddenly the man realized that the next day he would need his wife to wake him at 5:00 AM for an early morning business flight.

Not wanting to be the first to break the silence (and LOSE), he wrote on a piece of paper,"Please wake me at 5:00 AM." He left it where he knew she would find it.

The next morning the man woke up, only to discover it was 9:00 AM and he had missed his flight.

Furious, he was about to go to see why his wife hadn't wakened him when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed. The paper said, "It is 5:00 AM. Wake up."

Men are not equipped for these kinds of contests!

Question: What is the truest definition of Globalization?

Answer: Princess Diana's death.

Question: How come?

Answer:

An English princess with an Egyptian boyfriend crashes in a French tunnel, driving a German car with a Dutch engine, driven by a Belgian who was drunk on Scottish whisky, (check the bottle before you change the spelling), followed closely by Italian Paparazzi, on Japanese motorcycles; treated by an American doctor, using Brazilian medicines.

This is sent to you by a Canadian, using Bill Gates's technology, and you're probably reading this on your computer, that uses Taiwanese chips, and a Korean monitor, assembled by Bangladeshi workers in a Singapore plant, transported by Indian lorry-drivers, hijacked by Indonesians, unloaded by Sicilian longshoremen,
and trucked to you by Mexican illegals.

That, my friends, is Globalization!

A woman goes to the doctor all black and blue.

Doctor: "What happened?"

Woman: "Doctor, I don't know what to do. Every time my husband comes home drunk on Bud Light he beats me up."

Doctor: "I have a real good medicine for that. When your husband comes home drunk on Bud Light, just take a glass of sweet tea and start swishing it in your mouth but don't swallow. Just keep swishing and swishing until he goes to bed in his Bud Light stupor."

Two weeks later the woman comes back to the doctor looking fresh and reborn.

Woman: "Doctor, that was a brilliant idea. Every time my husband came home drunk on Bud Light, I swished with sweet tea. I swished and swished, and he didn't touch me!"

Doctor: "You see how much keeping your mouth shut helps?"