A champion jockey is about to enter an important race on a new horse. The horse's trainer meets him before the race and says, "All you have to remember with this horse is that every time you approach a jump, you have to shout, "ALLLLEEE OOOP!" really loudly in the horse's ear. Providing you do that, you'll be fine." The jockey thinks the trainer is mad but promises to shout the command. The race begins and they approach the first hurdle. The jockey ignores the trainer's ridiculous advice and the horse crashes straight through the center of the jump. They carry on and approach the second hurdle. The jockey, somewhat embarrassed, whispers "Aleeee ooop" in the horse's ear. The same thing happens - the horse crashes straight through the center of the jump. At the third hurdle, the jockey thinks, "It's no good, I'll have to do it," and yells, "ALLLEEE OOOP!" really loudly. Sure enough, the horse sails over the jump with no problems. This continues for the rest of the race, but due to the earlier problems, the horse only finishes third. The trainer is fuming and asks the jockey what went wrong. The jockey replies, "Nothing is wrong with me - it's this bloody horse. What is he - deaf or something?" The trainer replies, "Deaf?? DEAF?? You idiot, he's not deaf - he's BLIND!"

It was a sunny day in Rome when the Pope decided that he wants all the Jews out of Rome. Of course, there was a huge protest from the Jewish sector. So the Pope decided he will give them a chance. He invited them to send their greatest mind for a religious debate with him. If the Jewish man won, the Jews could remain living in the city. If the Pope won, the Jews had to leave. At the Jewish community, they realized that they had no choice. They looked around for a champion who could defend their faith, but no one wanted to volunteer. It was too much responsibility, what if they failed? The only one willing was an old man named Moishe. Being old, he decided he had less to lose. "I've seen and done it a lot in my life. I'm not afraid." he said. He asked only for one addition to the debate. Not being used to saying very much, he asked that neither side be allowed to talk. The Pope accepted this, thinking it a wise decision and will prevent them from repeating the same old arguments. The day of the holy debate came. Moishe and the Pope sat opposite each other for several minutes, contemplating each other. Then the Pope raised his hand and unfurled them to show three fingers. Moishe looked back at him and raised just one finger. The Pope waved his finger in a circle around himself. Moishe pointed to the ground where he sat emphatically. The Pope pulled out a wafer and a glass of wine. Moishe pulled out an apple. The Pope stood up and said, 'I give up. This man is too good. The Jews can stay!' An hour later, the cardinals were all around the Pope asking him what happened. The Pope said: 'First I held up three fingers to represent the Trinity. He responded by holding up one finger to remind me that there was still one God common to both our religions. Then I waved my finger around me to show him that God was everywhere and will wherever they go from this place. He responded by pointing to the ground, showing that God was also right here with us, judging us always. I pulled out the wine and the wafer to show that God absolves us of our sins. He pulled out an apple to remind me that we are born with original sin. The man had an answer for everything. What could I do??' Meanwhile, the Jewish community had crowded around Moishe, amazed that this old, almost feeble-minded man had done what all their scholars had insisted was impossible! 'What happened?' they asked. 'Well,' said Moishe, 'first he said to me that the Jews had three days to get out of here. I told him that not one of us was leaving. Then he told me that this whole city would be cleared of Jews. I let him know that we were staying right here.' 'And then?' asked a woman. 'I don't know,' Moishe shrugged. 'He took out his lunch and I took out mine.'

After 20 years of marriage, a wife decides to take her husband, Dave, to a strip club for his birthday. She figures there's no harm in it if she's there with him, after all. They arrive at the club and the doorman says, "Hey, Dave! How ya doin'?" His wife is puzzled and asks if he's been to this club before. "Oh no," says Dave. "He's on my bowling team." When they are seated, a waitress asks Dave if he'd like his usual and brings over a glass of red wine. His wife is becoming increasingly uncomfortable and says, "How did she know that you drink that?" "She's in the Ladies Bowling League, honey. We share lanes with them." A stripper then comes over to their table, throws her arms around Dave, and says "Hi Davey. Want your usual table dance, big boy?" Dave's wife, now furious, grabs her purse and storms out of the club. Dave follows and spots her getting into a cab. Before she can slam the door, he jumps in beside her. He tries desperately to explain how the stripper must have mistaken him for someone else, but his wife is having none of it. She is screaming at him at the top of her lungs, calling him every name in the book. The cabby turns his head and says, "Darn, Dave, looks like you picked an angry one tonight."

 The wrestling match was about to begin and the Contender's coach was once again lecturing the Contender. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times-don't let the Champion get you in The Pretzel! No one has ever been able to get out of The Pretzel!" The Contender nodded his head, getting ready for the match. "I know, Coach, if you've told me once...I won't let him get me in The Pretzel!" "Good! Just don't let him get you in The Pretzel!" "Coach!" The crowd in the arena was roaring. The two wrestlers moved to ring, a well lit white square in the center of the seats. The Contender was called and the crowd cheered, then the Champion was called and the crowd roared. Coach called to the Contender "Don't let him get you in The Pretzel!", and the Contender nodded and moved into the center. After a few moments, the match began. Coach watched as the wrestlers twisted together, all power and speed. The crowd surged. The bodies on the mat became a twisted wreck. "The Pretzel..." the Coach whispered, reaching to throw the towel into the ring, knowing there was no way the Contender could win. Before he could, though, there was a horrible, wrenching scream of agony from the ring. The wrestlers parted, fought, and before anyone could react, the Contender had the Championed pinned. The count went down. There was a new Champion. Coach's jaw was on the ground, the towel still in his hand. He was amazed, shocked. The new Champion was hustled into the locker room, and Coach followed. "How did you do that? No one has ever got out of The Pretzel! Never!" "Well, Coach, if you've told me once, you've told me a thousand times...but he is really good. I thought I had everything under control, but he was so fast, before I knew it, he had me in The Pretzel and I heard the count going down. I couldn't move." "I looked up and there was a groin hanging right in front of my face, and I figured I had nothing to lose so I chomped on it as hard as I could." "You can't believe the strength you get from biting your own testicles."

A coach for the Detroit Lions was looking for the perfect quarterback. He had scouted all the colleges and even the Canadian and European Leagues, but he couldn’t find a quarterback who could ensure a Super Bowl win. Then one night while watching CNN he saw a war-zone scene in Syria. In one corner of the background, he spotted a young Syrian Muslim soldier with a truly incredible arm. He threw a hand-grenade straight into a 15th story window 100 yards away. KABOOM! He threw another hand-grenade 75 yards away, right into a chimney. KA-BLOOEY! Then he threw another at a passing car going 90 mph. BULLS-EYE! “I’ve got to get this guy!” The coach said to himself. “He has the perfect arm!” So, he brings him to the States and teaches him the great game of football. And the Lions go on to win the Super Bowl. The young Syrian is hailed as the great hero of football, and when the coach asks him what he wants, all the young man wants is to call his mother. “Mom,” he says into the phone, “I just won the Super Bowl!” “I don’t want to talk to you,” the old Muslim woman says. “You deserted us. You are not my son!” “I don’t think you understand, Mother,” the young man pleads. “I’ve won the greatest sporting event in the world. I’m here among thousands of my adoring fans.” “No! Let me tell you!” his mother retorts. “At this very moment, there are gunshots all around us. The neighborhood is a pile of rubble. Your two brothers were beaten within an inch of their lives last week, and I have to keep your sister in the house so she doesn’t get raped!” The old lady pauses, and then tearfully says, “I will never forgive you for making us move to Detroit!"