He’s never gonna give you Up.
Every time a girl gets pregnant, a guy leaves town.
After my retirement at the company I worked at for 50 years, I looked forward to some relaxation time and putting my feet up, but my wife had other ideas…
… she insisted I take her to the local shopping centre every day. Like most men, I found shopping boring and preferred to get in and out. She's like most women – loves to browse & leaves me with endless time to fulfill. Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter, from the local Shopping centre: Dear Mrs. Harris: Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion, in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to, ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Harris, are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras: June 15: He took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people's carts when they weren't looking. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals. July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, 'Code 3 in House wares. Get on it right away'. This caused the employee to leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor that in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time; and costing the company money. We don't have a Code 3. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms on layaway. August 14: Moved a, 'CAUTION – WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department to which twenty children obliged. August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?' EMTs were called. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were. October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while, loudly humming the, 'Mission Impossible' theme. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his, 'Madonna Look' using different sizes of funnels. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!' October 22: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed; 'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!' Took a box of condoms to the checkout clerk and asked where is the fitting room? And last, but not least: October 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile; then yelled very loudly, 'Hey! There's no toilet paper in here.' One of the clerks passed out.
I guess it's only fare
A boy was upstairs playing on his computer when his grandad came in the room and sat down on the bed.
"What are you doing?", asked the grandad. "You're 18 years old and wasting your life. When I was 18 I went to Paris, I went to the Moulin Rouge, drank all night, had my way with the dancers, pissed on the barman and left without paying. Now that is how to have a good time." A week later, the grandfather comes to visit again. He finds the boy still in his room, but with a broken arm in plaster, 2 black eyes and missing all his front teeth. "What happened?", he asked. "Oh Grandfather!", replied the boy. "I did what you did. I went to Paris, went to the Moulin Rouge, drank all night, had my way with the dancers, pissed all over the barman, and he beat the crap out of me!" "Oh dear!", replied the grandad. "Who did you go with?" "Just some friends, why? Who did you go with?" "Oh!" replied the grandad. "The Third Panzer Division."
The secret service isn’t allowed to yell “Get down!” anymore when the president is about to be attacked.
Now they have to yell, “Donald, duck!”
He always wanted to be a millionaire too.
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Historically it's rare for a King to leave the throne alive.
A cowboy walks into a bar and orders three mugs of Bud. He sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three more. The bartender approaches and tells the cowboy, "You know, a mug goes flat after I draw it. It would taste better if you bought one at a time." The cowboy replies, "Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in Arizona , the other is in Colorado . When we all left our home in Texas , we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the days when we drank together. So I'm drinking one beer for each of my brothers and one for myself." The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there. The cowboy becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same way. He orders three mugs and drinks them in turn. One day, he comes in and only orders two mugs. All the regulars take notice and fall silent. When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, "I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your loss." The cowboy looks quite puzzled for a moment, then a light dawns in his eyes and he laughs. "Oh, no, everybody's just fine," he explains, "It's just that my wife and I joined the Baptist Church and I had to quit drinking." "Hasn't affected my brothers though."
It just becomes saltea.
He walks over to his seat and says, "I can bet $100 to each of you that my dog can talk!" Everybody agrees to the bet. The guy says, "Spot, speak!" The dog is silent. "Spot, speak," the guy repeats. The dog still doesn't react. Fuming, the guy begrudgingly pays each of the bettors the agreed upon sum and leaves the bar. Outside, the guy says to the dog, "You set me up, you stupid mutt! Do you even know how much cash I lost because of you?" "Nonsense," says his dog. "Just imagine how much money we'll raise tomorrow from these suckers!"
I should’ve known it was a Leper-con.
I can’t wait to see his face light up when he opens it.
My girlfriend thinks I act too feminine, and she’s always questioning my sexuality. She says I should try to act tougher, so that if she feels threatened by some guy she can feel safe with me…
but I assured her that if any guy tries to get too close to her I'd be the first one to beat him off.
It really makes my day
I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you.
It’s open Mike night!
But then it grew on me.
So, he opens the box and picks up the letter. He glances at it briefly to make sure it is stamped, and then puts it in his bag with his other letters. When he gets back to his office, the letter goes in a big bin with all of the other out-going mail. He thinks nothing of it, and finishes his day. A few days later, he delivers the exact same letter to the same house that he picked it up from. He glances at the mailing address and observes that it is indeed the same as the return address. Anyone can make a mistake, so the mailman puts the letter in the mailbox so that the customer can readdress it for its proper recipient. He thinks nothing of it and finishes his day. The next day, the mailman sees the same mailbox with the flag up. He opens the box and again sees the same letter, nothing changed, but with a new stamp on it. The mailman is perplexed, and thinking to save the customer both time and money, decides to ring the doorbell and inquire about the letter. Ding-dong, ding-dong. Ding-dong, ding-dong. Ding-dong, Ding-dong. The door opens and standing there is a stout Buddhist monk, dressed in traditional garb. “Pardon me, sir,” the mailman says, “but you seem to be trying to mail this letter again, and without any changes to the address, it’s only going to end up back at your home in a few days.” “Ah, my letter. Thank you so much for mailing it the other day, it was greatly appreciated. Please do so again” replies the Buddhist monk. “But sir,” says mailman, “you will only waste a stamp, and this letter will be re-delivered to your home a few days from now.” “But that is my intention, dear man,” replies the Buddhist monk. “You see, reposting is the best way to get karma.”
A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon. As she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest. After a moment or two, the vet shook his head and sadly said, "I'm sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has passed away." The distressed woman wailed, "Are you sure?" "Yes, I am sure. Your duck is dead," replied the vet.. "How can you be so sure?" she protested.. "I mean you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something." The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a black Labrador Retriever. As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head. The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room. A few minutes later he returned with a cat. The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room. The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck." The vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman.. The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$1,500!" she cried,"$1,500 just to tell me my duck is dead!" The vet shrugged, "I'm sorry. If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it's now $1,500."
If you mix a lion and a tiger you get a liger. If you mix a horse and a donkey you get a mule. What happens when you mix an orangutan and a lawyer?
Nothing. The lawyer doesn't have enough human DNA.
2019 will be odd too.
I’m on season 6 and I’m not really sure what this show has to do with security
They picked pizza. Then I made tacos because they don't live in a swing state.
but when I do, he laughs
Capitalist My sincere apologies in advance 😉
I thought to myself "Now, that's a little condescending".
In fact, she’d wipe the floor with them.
I can’t do anything with this now, but if I ever cross that line I’m all set
“Timmy! Close your eyes and leave!” Timmy’s mom yelled. “But… what were you doing?” Timmy asks. “Well, your father has big beer belly, so I was jumping up and down on him to flatten him out!” The mother responds, nervous. “Well, there’s no use in that.” “Well, why not?” “Because when you’re out shopping, the lady next door comes in and blows him back up!”
Sony and Yamaha are my favorite.
He has his hands full with the child screaming for sweets, biscuits, all sorts of things. The grandad is saying in a controlled voice: "Easy, William, we won't be long . . . easy boy." Another outburst and she hears the grandad calmly say: "It's okay William. Just a couple more minutes and we'll be out of here. Hang in there, boy." At the checkout, the little horror is throwing items out of the trolley. Grandad says again in a controlled voice: "William, William, relax buddy, don't get upset. We'll be home in five minutes, stay cool, William." Very impressed, she goes outside to where the grandfather is loading his groceries and the boy into the car. She says : "It's none of my business, but you were amazing in there. I don't know how you did it. That whole time you kept your composure, and no matter how loud and disruptive he got, you just calmly kept saying things would be okay. William is very lucky to have you as his grandad." "Thanks," says the grandpa. "But I am William. The little bastard's name is Kevin."
"I'd like your best ham, please," she says to the butcher. "You'll have The Damn Ham," he replies. Taken aback, she asks, "Sir, could you please not use that sort of language around me? My husband is a preacher, and I am a devout Christian." "No, ma'am, I think you misunderstood. That's the name of our best ham – The Damn Ham." "Oh," she replies. "Well, I'll take The Damn Ham!" Later as she's preparing dinner, her husband arrives. "Smells great in here!" he says as he enters. "What are you cooking, honey?" "The Damn Ham," she tells him. "What has gotten into you?" he asks. "You know that we do not use that kind of language in this house." "No, dear, that's the name of this ham – The Damn Ham," she explains. "Oh, I see. Well, The Damn Ham smells delicious!" After a while, the two of them and their two sons are sitting at the table enjoying a well made dinner. Going in for seconds, the preacher turns to his wife and asks, "Dear, could you pass me The Damn Ham?" One of the sons jumps up, slaps the table, and yells, "That's the spirit, Dad! Pass the fucking peas!"