Mechanic

A farmer took his truck in for repairs. The local mechanic's couldn't do it while he waited: so, as he didn't live far, he said he would just walk home. On the way home he stopped at the hardware store and bought a bucket and a gallon of paint. He then stopped by the feed store and picked up a couple of chickens and a goose. However, struggling outside the store he now had a problem. - how to carry his entire purchases home. While he was scratching his head he was approached by a little old lady who told him she was lost. "Can you tell me how to get to 1603 Mockingbird Lane ?" she asked. "Well, “ said the farmer, “as a matter of fact, my farm is very close to that house. I would gladly walk you there, but I can't carry this lot." “Why don't you put the can of paint in the bucket,” suggested the little old lady, “carry the bucket in one hand, put a chicken under each arm and carry the goose in your other hand?' “Why, thank you very much,” he said and proceeded to walk the old girl home. On the way he said. “'Let's take my shortcut and go down this alley. We'll be there in no time.” The little old lady looked him over cautiously then said, “I am a lonely widow without a husband to defend me. How do I know that when we get in the alley you won't hold me up against the wall, pull up my skirt, and have your way with me?” “Holy smokes lady!”, the farmer said. “I'm carrying a bucket, a gallon of paint, two chickens, and a goose. How in the world could I possibly hold you up against the wall and do that?” “Well, if you WERE to do such a thing,” the old lady replied, “you would set the goose down, cover him with the bucket, put the paint on top of the bucket, and I would hold the chickens.”

After 20 years of work, a successful gynecologist had become fed up with malpractice insurance and HMO paperwork, and decided that, even though this is all he knew, he would seek new career for himself. Hoping to try a career where skillful hands would be beneficial, he decided to become a mechanic, as working in a garage is always something he thought he might be good at. He went to the local technical college, signed up for evening classes, attended diligently, and learned all he could. When the time of the practical exam approached, the gynecologist prepared carefully for weeks, and completed the exam with tremendous skill. When the results came back, he was surprised to find that he had obtained a score of 150%. Fearing an error, he called the Instructor, saying, “I don’t want to appear ungrateful for such an outstanding result, but I wonder if there is an error in the grade?” The instructor said, “During the exam, you took the engine apart perfectly, which was worth 50% of the total mark. You put the engine back together again perfectly, which is also worth 50% of the mark.” After a pause, the instructor added, “I gave you an extra 50% because you did it all through the muffler, which I’ve never seen done in my entire career.”

A gynecologist was getting sick of his job and decided that he needed a career change. He'd always enjoyed tinkering with engines so thought he'd become a mechanic. So he went along to mechanics school and the final test was to strip the engine completely and reassemble it - obviously back into perfect working order. So our gynecologist friend did the test and anxiously awaited the result. The day he received the results he got quite a surprise, he got 150%! He quickly phoned the instructor and queried the mark. The instructor said: "no, no that's right. First I gave you 50% for stripping down the engine - a very thorough job. Next I gave you 50% for reassembling it - a fantastic job really, and then I gave you a 50% bonus for doing it all through the muffler."

European Heaven is where: All the cops are British, All the wine is French, All the cars are German, All the lovers are Italian, The weather is Greek, And everything is organized by the Swiss. European Hell is where: All the cops are French, All the wine is German, All the cars are Greek, All the lovers are Swiss, The weather is British, And everything is organized by the Italians.

A married couple moves into to a new home. After a few days, as the husband returns home from work, his wife says to him, "Honey, one of the pipes in the bathroom is leaking, could you fix it?" "What do I look like, a plumber?" asks the husband, and goes to sleep. A few days later, the wife once again turns to her husband and says, "Honey, my car doesn't start. I think it may need a new battery. Could you change it for me?" "What do I look like, a mechanic?" asks the husband with a frown. A week goes by, and the wife once again turns to her husband and says, "Dear, the roof is leaking, could you do something about it?" "What do I look like, a roofer?" asks the husband. "Take care of these things yourself!" He then leaves home for a week on a business trip. "When I come back," he says to his wife, "I'd like all these things taken care of." He comes back a week later and is astonished to discover the roof is fixed, the car is running and the pipes are brand new. "Great! How much is that going to cost me?" he snarls at his wife. "Nothing at all." said the wife. "The neighbor popped in and turns out he's a handyman. He said he'd fix the whole thing if I'd just bake him a cake or sleep with him." "Wow," said the husband. "What kind of cake did you make him?" "What do I look like," exclaims the wife, "a baker?"