Ok Bloomberg

Because he is married

He must belong to an extreme mist organization.

Because nobody has any beef over there.

She drinks straight from the bottle.

He marched straight up to the counter and said, “Hi. You know, I just HATE drawing welfare. I'd really rather have a job.” The social worker behind the counter said, “Your timing is excellent!” We just got a job opening from a very wealthy old man who wants a chauffeur and bodyguard for his beautiful daughter. You'll have to drive around in his Mercedes, and he'll supply all of your clothes. Because of the long hours, meals will be provided. You'll be expected to escort the daughter on her overseas holiday trips and you will have to satisfy her every need. You'll be provided a two-bedroom apartment above the garage. The salary is $200,000 a year.' The guy, wide-eyed, said, “You're lying !!!” The social worker said, “Yeah, well . . . you started it.”

So what if it took 36 years and required me to become a mortician.

Under the g(o)rill(a).

Then I realized battery not included

Apparently only DC movies can do that.

Now she just staring at the bushes confused wondering who said that.

I hope

A plane bagel

They used to, but the decent ones were never returned.

Jewish Kid : “ME! ME! ME!” Teacher : “Okay what else?”

The first two men open a bottle of vodka, while the third is tired and goes straight to bed. He is unable to sleep however, as his increasingly drunk friends tell political jokes loudly. After a while, the tired man gets frustrated and walks downstairs for a smoke. He stops in the lounge and asks the receptionist to bring tea to their room in five minutes. The man walks back into the room, joins the table, leans towards a power outlet and speaks into it: "Comrade major, we want some tea to room 62 please." His friends laugh on the joke, until there is a knock on the door. The receptionist brings a tea pot. His friends fall silent and pale, horrified of what they just witnessed. The party is dead, and the man goes to sleep. After a good night's rest, the man wakes up, and notices his friends are gone. Surprised, he walks downstairs and asks the receptionist where they went. The nervous receptionist whispers that KGB came and took them before dawn. The man is horrified. He wonders why he was spared. The receptionist responds: "Well, comrade major did quite like your tea gag."

So I just came in my pants

If you are not familiar with Beethoven's 9th Symphony it's a tremendous piece of work, but the bass line is atrocious. Not because it is complicated, but because it goes like this: "bbbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" And then approximately an hour an a half later it goes like this: "bbbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" And then there's a round of applause and everyone take their bows and and exits stage right. The conductor had a great idea though, and the basses practiced this in the weeks leading up to the concert. The would play their first note "bbbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" And then they would quietly lay down their basses on provided carpets, and exit the stage – waiting patiently to return an hour and a half later to play their final note: "bbbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" The night of the concert arrives, everyone is dressed to the nines (as is appropriate of course). The basses are shined and everyone is relaxed and ready. The conducter taps on his conducter's stand to get attention, raises his hands and with a gallant downstroke the basses play the ever living shit out of their note "bbbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" And then quietly lay down their instruments on the provided carpets and step behind the curtain. This is where things go awry, "Hey guys," says the lead bass "I have a great idea. There's a bar across the street and we have at least an hour and a half before we play our next note. Let's slip across and have a couple pints!" Everyone thinks this is a fantastic idea, so the entire section hops along to the bar and downs a couple pints. One of the second basses after a while gets a little conserned and asks the lead bass if it was time to go back. "No, we got time. See, I tied a string to the last page of the conductors score attached to a transciever. When he gets to that section I'll get a buzz on my phone and we can head back." Everyone thinks that this is brilliant so they knock back a few more pints before suddenly the lead bass stands up and announces it's time to go. They bounce back across the street, through the musicians entrance, and up to the curtain to peek through and sure enough, they're right on time. So they slip through, pick up their instruments and look up at the conductor and…he is angry. Super angry. Ready to bust a blood vessel angry. But you would be too wouldn't you? It was the bottom of the ninth, the basses were loaded, and the score was tied.

There was nothing left but de brie

So the first guy goes to Europe and tours the different countries there. The second guy goes to Europe, then Asia, then Africa, then Australia and basically goes everywhere. The third guy doesn't go anywhere. 6 months later they all meet up and the first guy says, "I went to all the countries in Europe and have become more cultured after visiting all their historic sites. The second guy says, "I went to Europe and became more cultured, Asia and learned martial arts, Africa and fed starving children and Australia and fought a stingray, and survived. It cost me $400k but it was well worth it and is only a drop in the bucket to me." The third guy who didn't go anywhere walks around the woman once, stops in front of her and takes hold of the woman's hands, "I've just traveled around the whole world, because you are my whole world." Upon hearing this, the woman became emotional and with tears of happiness running down her face , she says, "That is by far the sweetest thing I've ever heard in my entire life. “ After this man spoke such sweet words. She was finally ready to make her the obvious choice… She then choice the second guy, the one with the most money.

We all know who’s making that decision

Personally I’m on the fence.

It's gotten so bad that he's decided to talk to his doctor about the physical pain he's experiencing. The doctor prescribes him some painkillers and sends him on his way. A few days later, the man comes back complaining that the painkillers aren't working. The doctor ups his dose and sees him out. This process continues until a few weeks later. The man is visibly happier and healthier. The doctor asks him if the painkillers worked. "Yep! They're finally dead."

Half an hour later, a door-to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell with the hopes of making a sale. "Good morning madam. You don't know me but I've come to….." "Oh, there's no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Jones cut in. "You have?" the photographer asked. "Well, good! I've made a specialty of babies." "That's exactly what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat. Just where do we start?" asked a blushing Mrs. Jones. "You just leave everything to me," he replied. "Usually, I try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out." "Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for George and me," stated Mrs. Jones. "Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. However, if we try several different positions, and I shoot from five or six angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results." "I certainly hope we can get this over with quickly," gasped Mrs. Jones. "Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I would love to be in and out in five minutes, but you'd be disappointed with that, I'm sure." "Don't I know!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones. The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus in the downtown area," he proudly declared. "Oh my word!" Mrs. Jones exclaimed. "And these twins turned out exceptionally well, considering the fact that their mother was so difficult to work with," he said, handing Mrs. Jones the photograph. "She was difficult?" Mrs. Jones asked. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to Central Park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing and shoving to get a good look." "Four and five deep?" asked Mrs. Jones, her eyes the size of saucers. "Yes," said the photographer. "And for more than three hours too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling. It was very difficult for me to concentrate. Then darkness approached and I began to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just packed it all in." "You mean they actually chewed on your, umm, equipment?" Mrs. Jones asked. "That's right. Well madam, if you're ready, I'll set up my tripod so that we can get to work." "Tripod?" asked a very worried Mrs. Jones. "Oh yes, I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big for me to hold while I'm getting ready for action." "Madam, madam? Good Lord, she's fainted!"

"No. That's why we want to go to the moon."

I don't know, they just ransomware.

But hay, it's in my jeans.

I said, "Good idea – we can cover more ground that way!"