Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Spaghetti

A doctor was having an affair with his nurse. Shortly afterward, she told him she was pregnant. Not wanting his wife to know, he gave the nurse a sum of money and asked her to go to Italy and have the baby there.
"But how will I let you know the baby is born?" she asked.
He replied, "Just send me a postcard and write 'spaghetti' on the back. I'll take care of expenses."
Not knowing what else to do, the nurse took the money and flew to Italy.
Six months went by and then one day the doctor's wife called him at the office and explained, "Dear, you received a very strange postcard in the mail today from Europe, and I don't understand what it means."
The doctor said, "Just wait until I get home and I will explain it to you."
Later that evening, the doctor came home, read the postcard, fell to the floor with a heart attack.
Paramedics rushed him to the ER. The lead medic stayed back to comfort the wife. He asked what trauma had precipitated the cardiac arrest.
So the wife picked up the card and read, "'Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti - Two with sausage and meatballs, two without.'"

Monday, October 22, 2007

Las Vegas

A guy is walking along the strip in Las Vegas and a
knockout looking Vegas hooker catches his eye. He strikes up a
conversation and eventually asks the hooker, "How much
do you charge?"

The hooker says, "Do you see that Denny's on the corner?"

"Yes."

"Do you see the Denny's about a block further down?"

"Yes."

"And beyond that, do you see that third Denny's?"

"Yes."

"Well," says the hooker, smiling invitingly, "I own those.
And, I own them because I give a hand-job that's worth $500."

Guy says, "What the hell? You only live once. I'll give
it a try."

They retire to a nearby motel. A short time later, the guy is
sitting on the bed realizing that he just experienced the
hand-job of a lifetime, worth every bit of $500. He is so amazed,
he says, "I suppose a blow-job is $1,000?"

The hooker replies, "$1,500."

"I wouldn't pay that for a blow-job!"

The hooker replies, "Step over here to the window, big boy.
Do you see that casino just across the street? I own that
casino outright. And I own it because I give a blow-job that's worth
every cent of $1,500."

The guy, basking in the afterglow of that terrific hand-job, decides
to put off the new car for another year or so, and says, "Sign
me up."

Ten minutes later, he is sitting on the bed more amazed than
before. He can scarcely believe it but he feels he truly got his
money's worth. He decides to dip into the retirement savings
for one glorious and unforgettable experience. He asks the
hooker, "How much for some pussy?"

The hooker says, "Come over here to the window, I want to
show you something. Do you see how the whole city of Las Vegas
is laid out before us, all those beautiful lights, gambling palaces,
and show places?"

"Damn!" the guy says, in awe, "You own the whole city?"

"No", the hooker replies, "but I would if I had a pussy."

Friday, October 19, 2007

Ghosts

An extremely modest man was in the hospital for a series of
tests, the last of which had left his system extremely upset.
Upon making several false-alarm trips to the bathroom he
decided the latest was another and stayed put. Unfortunately
for him, this wasn't a false alarm and he soiled his bed
linens terribly.
He was embarrassed beyond his ability to
remain rational. Losing his presence of mind, he jumped up,
gathered up the bed sheets, and threw them out the hospital
window.
A drunk was walking by the hospital when the sheets landed
on him. He started yelling, cursing, and swinging his arms
wildly, which left the soiled sheets in a tangled pile at his
feet.
As the drunk stood there staring down at the sheets, a
security guard who had watched the whole incident walked up
and asked, "What the hell was that all about?"
Still staring down, the drunk replied: "I think I just beat
the shit out of a ghost!"

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Murphy's Law

An Irishman named Murphy went to his doctor after a long illness. The doctor, after a lengthy examination, sighed and looked Murphy in the eye and said, "I've some bad news for you. You have cancer and it can't be cured. I'd give you two weeks to a month."
Murphy, saddened and shocked by the news, but of solid character, managed to compose himself and walk from the doctor's office into the waiting room. There he saw his son who had been waiting.
Murphy said, "Son, we Irish celebrate when things are good and we celebrate when things don't go so well. In this case, things aren't so well. I have cancer and I've been given a short time to live. Let's head for the pub and have a few pints.
After three or four pints the two were feeling a little less somber.
There were some laughs and more beers. They were eventual approached by some of Murphy's old friends who asked what the two were celebrating. Murphy told them that the Irish celebrate the good and the bad. He went on to tell them that they were drinking to his impending end.
He told his friends "I've only got a few weeks to live as I have been diagnosed with AIDS." The friends gave Murphy their condolences and they had a couple more beers.
After his friends left, Murphy's son leaned over and whispered his confusion.
"Dad, I thought you said that you were dying from cancer? You just told your friends that you were dying from AIDS?"
Murphy said, "I am dying from cancer son, I just don't want any of them sleeping with your mother after I'm gone!"