Mario is in court for a traffic infraction (he parked his kart in a no-parking zone).
Judge: “I order you to pay $500.”
Mario: “Why?”
Judge: “It’s a fine.”
Mario [sadly] : “No, itsa not.”
Musings from Singapore
Mario is in court for a traffic infraction (he parked his kart in a no-parking zone).
Judge: “I order you to pay $500.”
Mario: “Why?”
Judge: “It’s a fine.”
Mario [sadly] : “No, itsa not.”
When we were kids, my older brother would always tear out the last pages of my comic books.
He never told me why he did it – ultimately, I had to draw my own conclusions.
Tim is dining alone in a fancy restaurant and there’s a beautiful redhead sitting at the next table. He’s been sneakily checking her out the whole night, but doesn’t have the courage to go over and talk to her.
Suddenly, she sneezes, and her glass eye comes flying out of its socket toward Tim. His reflexes kick in and he reaches out and plucks it out of the air. He goes over to return it to her.
The redhead is mortified. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry,” she says as she pops her eye back into place. “Let me buy your dinner to make it up to you.”
So Tim joins her table and they enjoy a wonderful meal together. Afterwards, they go to the theater, followed by drinks at a bar. They talk, they laugh, she shares her deepest dreams and he shares his.
After paying for everything, she asks him if he would like to come to her place for a nightcap. He says yes and they return to her place.
He ends up staying the night. The next morning, she cooks a gourmet breakfast with all the trimmings. The guy is amazed at how everything has been so perfect and how incredible this woman is. He can’t believe his luck. “You are the perfect woman,” he says. “Are you this nice to every guy you meet?”
“No,” she replies. “You just happened to catch my eye.”
All the parts of the human body were having a meeting, trying to decide who was the one in charge.
“I should be in charge,” said the brain. “Because I run all the body’s systems, so without me nothing would happen.”
“I should be in charge,” said the blood. “Because I circulate oxygen all over so without me you’d all waste away.”
“I should be in charge,” said the stomach. “Because I process food and give all of you energy.”
“I should be in charge,” said the legs. “Because I carry the body wherever it needs to go.”
“I should be in charge,” said the eyes. “Because I allow the body to see where it goes.”
“I should be in charge,” said the rectum. “Because I’m responsible for waste removal.”
All the other body parts laughed at the rectum and insulted him, so in a huff, he shut down tight. Within a few days, the brain had a terrible headache, the stomach was bloated, the legs got wobbly, the eyes became watery, and the blood turned toxic. They all relented and decided that the rectum should be the boss.
The moral of the story?
Even though the others do all the work… the asshole is usually in charge.
I hadn’t put my own picture up on my dating profile, just a picture of my pickup. But that’s okay, because she’d just put a picture of her dog. I sent her a message, something almost-clever like “your dog can ride in my pickup any time,” and she responded.
We clicked pretty quickly, and started chatting regularly. Every day, sometimes throughout the day. Slowly we learned more about each other. Her dog’s name was Daisy. My truck’s name was Dodge Ram (I apologized for my lack of creativity). She was a CPA. I was a beekeeper.
And at this, she stumbled. “If we ever meet in real-life, I want you to know that I could never date a beekeeper.” But we were still far away from that point, so it was moot.
But time went on, and we gradually got closer to that point. More personal information. What firm she worked for. Where my farm was. Names of relatives. Names of high schools. All the things that just come up in conversation eventually if you talk to someone long enough.
But, oddly, after all this time, neither of us had thought to send any pictures. Until one day I got a message from her: “I never thought I’d say this, but I really do want to meet you in person. I think we have a rare connection, and I don’t want to squander it. I want to send you my picture, and I want you to send me yours, but I’m telling you, I can never date a beekeeper.”
I couldn’t imagine a life without my bees. But I also couldn’t imagine a life without her. Tentatively, reluctantly, I clicked on the image attached to her message.
Then I saw her face. Now I’m a bee leaver.
I had a massive argument with my roommate about how to arrange the furniture of our apartment, each moving things around whenever the other wasn’t at home.
The main pieces of furniture in question were the coffee table and our respective work tables.
This went on for several days, and I was worried that it might affect my thoughts during an important upcoming business trip.
Thankfully, he stopped moving things around just before I left for my trip. I figured I’d won the fight.
Imagine my surprise when I returned to find everything in his preferred layout.
He sure turned the tables on me.
My kids tell me that they want a cat for Christmas this year.
We normally cook a turkey, but if they want a cat, okay.
A weasel walks into a bar. The bartender says, “Wow, I’ve never served a weasel before. What can I get for you?”
“Pop,” goes the weasel.
My wife stormed into the pub last night as me and the boys were downing shots of tequila.
“You’re coming home now!” she screamed.
“No, I’m not,” I laughed.
She said, “I’m talking to the kids.”
A pessimist sees a dark tunnel.
An optimist sees the light at the end of the tunnel.
A realist just sees a tunnel.
The train driver sees three idiots standing on the train tracks.
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