How Long is a Chinese name.

The next day, he comes back and deposits $10,000. The next day, he comes back and deposits $7,500. As he walks out, the banker asks him how he gets so much money in a day. The man walks up to him and whispers, “I make bets with people.” The banker tells him, “How do you make so much?” The man says, “Here, I bet $50 you have a birthmark on your ass.” The banker says no, but the man wants proof. The banker pulls down his pants and shows him that there is no birthmark, but the man is still smiling. The banker asks why. The man says, “Because I bet each person in the building $50,000 that I could get you to pull down your pants.”

As the bartender goes to get the drink, the bowl of peanuts pipes up, "excellent choice, on the beer! A really great decision." Thinking he is hearing things, the man goes to the bathroom to wash his face. On his way there, the juke box yells at him, "a goddamn beer? Horrible choice. Only thing worse is that disgusting excuse for a shirt you're wearing." Startled, the man rushes into the bathroom to freshen up, then returns to his seat at the bar. As the bartender brings back his beer, the man says to him, "I think I'm going crazy here. I thought I had the peanuts heaping praise on me here and then the juke box ridiculing me on my way to the bathroom. Did I imagine that?" The bartender solemnly shook his head. "No, sir. My apologies. The peanuts are complimentary, but the juke box is out of order."

She said "it's my husband!. Quick, try the backdoor!" Thinking back, I really should have ran but you don't get offers like that every day.

It’s really gotten out of hand.

On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, "Well, I'm off now. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale, "Good morning, Ma'am", he said, "I've come to… "Oh, no need to explain," Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, "I've been expecting you." "Have you really?" said the photographer. "Well, that's good. Did you know babies are my speciality?" "Well that's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat" After a moment she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?" "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun. You can really spread out there." "Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for Harry and me!" "Well, Ma'am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results." "My, that's a lot!" gasped Mrs Smith. "Ma'am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I'd love to be in and out in five minutes, but I'm sure you'd be disappointed with that." "Don't I know it," said Mrs. Smith quietly. The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. "This one was done on the top of a bus," he said. "Oh my God!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her chest. "And these twins turned out exceptionally well – when you consider her mother was so difficult to work with." "She was difficult?" asked Mrs. Smith. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look." "Four and five deep?" said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement. "Yes", the photographer replied. "And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling – I could hardly concentrate, and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in." Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "Do you mean they actually chewed on your, um. equipment?" "It's true, Ma'am, yes. Well, if you're ready, I'll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away." "Tripod?" "Oh yes, Ma'am, I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too heavy to be held in the hand very long. With that, Mrs. Smith fainted.

A couple days later, the town drunk was walking through the cemetery and heard some strange noise coming from the area where Beethoven was buried. Terrified, the drunk ran and got the priest to come and listen to it. The priest bent close to the grave and heard some faint, unrecognizable music coming from the grave. Frightened, the priest ran and got the town magistrate. When the magistrate arrived, he bent his ear to the grave, listened for a moment, and said, "Ah, yes, that's Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, being played backwards." He listened a while longer, and said, "There's the Eighth Symphony, and it's backwards, too. Most puzzling." So the magistrate kept listening; "There's the Seventh… the Sixth… the Fifth…" Suddenly the realization of what was happening dawned on the magistrate; he stood up and announced to the crowd that had gathered in the cemetery, "My fellow citizens, there's nothing to worry about. It's just Beethoven decomposing."

Because I'm Canadian.

We lived on an old farm. No animals, just fields. Uncle goes to the market to buy a horse, ends up spending more than expected because it's bred from some old bloke's prized stallion. Although expensive, aunt loves it. Because it's all muddy she calls it "Dirty". She was a fucked up like that. They told me, "If we ever catch you riding our fucking horse then we will beat the living shit out of you." They'd done it before so I knew they meant it. Days later, I'm messing in the fields with some old tractor tire I found. Dirty is just eating grass and shit next to me. Auntie and uncle come out every few minutes to make sure I'm not riding the horse. Get bored. Climb inside the tire. Tire starts moving (field wasn't flat). Can't stop. Auntie and uncle come outside to check on me They see me rollin' They hatin' Patrolling Trying to catch me riding Dirty

He slid into bed, kissed his wife on the cheek and fell into a deep sleep. He awoke before the Pearly Gates. St. Peter said, “You died in your sleep, Carl.” Carl was stunned. “I’m dead? No, I can’t be! I’ve got too much to live for. Send me back!” St. Peter said, “Hmm, perhaps that could be arranged. It does involves a lot of paperwork… but sure. You’ve got two alternatives: you can come back as a fish or as a hen.” Carl never liked swimming, and thought that perhaps being a hen wouldn’t be that bad after all. Walking around pecking at the ground, no stress, and if the local rooster was nice then perhaps it could be a comfortable existence. Carl replied, “Okay, then I choose to be a hen.”The next thing he knew, he was covered with feathers, clucking, and pecking the ground. A rooster strolled past. “So, you’re the new hen, eh? How’s your first day here?”“Not bad,” replied Carl the hen, “but I have this strange feeling inside. Like I’m gonna explode!”“You’re ovulating,” explained the rooster. “Don’t tell me you’ve never laid an egg before?” “Never,” said Carl.“Well, just cluck twice and then push.” Carl clucked twice and pushed, and voila, out popped an egg! Carl was overcome with emotion as he experienced motherhood for the first time. He then clucked twice, pushed, and out came another egg. His joy was overwhelming. As he was about to lay his third egg, he felt a smack on the back of his head, and heard his wife shout, “Dammit, Carl! Wake up. You’re shitting the bed!!!”

He just nuts and bolts

I don’t know what he laced them with, but I was tripping all day

I found it a little hard to swallow.

You can hear a pin drop, after all.

I looked at it and said, “This isn’t for me.”

I will find you, and I will kill you. edit: no you wont

After a while, the son turned to his dad and said "Hey Dad, why can't we just use a sponge ?"

Sneakers

No pun in ten did.

A seat belt

When I got home, I realized I’d only picked seven up.

She must have called in thick

A punchline…

Nobody laughed at first, but eventually everyone got it.

Just ass skin for a friend

I'm not buying it

Because B shells are too small and D shells are too big.

It’s remarkable.

..British scientists found traces of copper wire dating back 200 years and came to the conclusion that their ancestors already had a telephone network more than 150 years ago. Not to be outdone by the Brits, in the weeks that followed, a team of American archaeologists dug to a depth of 20 feet, and shortly after, a story published in the New York bulletin: "American archaeologists, finding traces of 250-year-old copper wire, have concluded that their ancestors already had an advanced high-tech communications network 50 years earlier than the British". One week later, the Punch newspaper in Ibadan, Nigeria, reported the following: "After digging as deep as 30 feet in his backyard, Abimbola Obuijsule a self-taught archaeologist, reported that he found absolutely nothing. Abimbola has therefore concluded that more than 250 years ago, Africa had already gone wireless."

I hope it's just a phase.

Because calling him Master Vader made all the Stormtroopers giggle.

No text found

Sometimes you have to take a stand.

One night, a police officer was staking out a particularly rowdy bar for possible violations of the driving under the influence laws. At closing time, he saw a fellow stumble out of the bar, trip on the curb, and try his keys on five different cars before he found his. Then, sat in the front seat fumbling around with his keys for several minutes. Everyone left the bar and drove off. Finally, he started his engine and began to pull away. The police officer was waiting for him. He stopped the driver, read him his rights and administered the Breathalyzer test. The results showed a reading of 0.0. The puzzled officer demanded to know how that could be. The driver replied, "Tonight, I'm the Designated Decoy."

But I broke up with her because she was too kneady.

Dad: great, I'm taking you the strip club tonight. 18 year old: No, I already said I didn't want that. Dad: Nicole, someone needs to work in this house.