What do snowmen call their kids?
Dear Son, I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my potato garden this year. I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. If you were here, all my troubles would be over. I know you would dig the plot for me, if you weren't in prison. Love, Dad Shortly, the old man received this telegram: ‘For Heaven’s sake, Dad, don’t dig up the plot. That’s where I buried the GUNS!!’ At 4 a.m. the next morning, a dozen FBI agents and local police officers showed up and dug up the entire garden without finding any guns. Confused, the old man wrote another note to his son telling him what had happened, and asked him what to do next. His son’s reply: ‘Go ahead and plant your potatoes, Dad. It’s the best I could do for you, from here.’
I can't tell you how much it means to me
I know, it sounds a little far fetched.
We just clicked. I am sorry. So, so sorry…
It was about time.
But they'll recoup.
… I can do it with my eyes closed.
A minister dies and is waiting in line at the Pearly Gates. Ahead of him is a guy who’s dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket, and jeans.
Saint Peter addresses this guy, "Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?" The guy replies, "I’m Joe Cohen, taxi driver, of Noo Yawk City." St. Peter consults his list. He smiles and says to the taxi driver, "Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven." The taxi driver goes into Heaven with his robe and staff, and it’s the minister’s turn. He stands erect and booms out, "I am Joseph Snow, pastor of Calvary for the last forty-three years." St Peter consults his list. He says to the minister, "Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven." "Just a minute," says the minister. "That man was a taxi driver, and he gets a silken robe and golden staff. How can this be?!" "Up here, we work by results," says Saint Peter. "While you preached, people slept; while he drove, people prayed."
I’m not sure what he laced them with but I’ve been tripping all day.
Son takes his father to the doctor. The doctor gives them the bad news that the father is dying of cancer.
Father tells the son that he has had a good long life and wants to stop at the boozer on the way home to celebrate it. While at the pub, the father sees several of his friends. He tells them that he is dying of AIDS. When the friends leave the son asks, "Dad, you are dying of cancer. Why did you tell them that you are dying of AIDS?" The father replies, "I don't want them fucking your mother after I'm gone!"
A new study has found that white envelopes tend to be delivered faster than envelopes of any other colour
I guess you could say that there's… white mail privilege
"This is my butterfly collection! We have a wide range. This is Fred- off there in the corner. The monarch. Beautiful pattern. We got him from the Toledo Zoo. But careful you don't startle him- he isn't the socialist of butterflies."
In Queso emergencies
It’s always the centre of a tension.
Always joking around instead of fixing those damn computers.
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.”
I said "whatever floats your boat mate" He said "No, thats buoyancy"
… on the other hand, I'm okay.
One weighs upwards of 1800 pounds, the other is a little lighter.
But i just can't see it.
He wanted a well-balanced meal.
A soldier ran up to a nun. Out of breath he asked, “Please, may I hide under your skirt. i’ll explain later.”
The nun agreed… A moment later two Military Police ran up and asked, "Sister, have you seen a soldier?" The nun replied, "He went that way." After the MPs ran off, the soldier crawled out from under her skirt said " I can't thank you enough, sister. You see, I don't want to go to Syria." The nun said, "I understand completely." The soldier added, "I hope I'm not rude, but you have a great pair of legs!" The nun replied, "If you had looked a little higher, you would have seen a great pair of balls…. I don't want to go to Syria either."
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. My brothers haven’t been affected tho."
The coach grimaced as he watched his young ice hockey team. At one point during the game, he called one of his 7-year-old players aside and asked, “Do you understand what cooperation is? What a team is?” The little boy nodded affirmatively…
"Do you understand that what matters is not whether we win or lose, but how we play together as a team?" The little boy nodded once more. "So…" the coach continued. "I'm sure you know that when a penalty is called, you shouldn't argue, curse, attack the referee, or call him a pecker-head. Do you understand all that?" Again the little boy nodded. He continued, "And when I call you off the ice so that another boy gets a chance to play, it's not good sportsmanship to call your coach a dumb asshole, is it?" The little boy nodded yet again. "Good." said the coach. "Now go over there and explain all that to your mother."