A young newlywed couple wanted to join a church. The pastor told them, "We have special requirements for new parishioners. You must abstain from making love for two weeks." The couple agreed and came back at the end of two weeks.
The pastor asked them, "Well, were you able to get through the two weeks without being intimate?"
"Pastor, I'm afraid we were not able to go without making love for the two weeks," the young man replied.
"What happened?" inquired the pastor.
"My wife was reaching for a can of corn on the top shelf and dropped it. When she bent over to pick it up, I was over come with lust and took advantage of her right there."
"You understand, of course, that this means you will not be welcome in our church," stated the pastor.
"That's okay," said the young man. "We're not welcome at the grocery store anymore either."
I took some friends out to dinner last week, and I noticed a spoon in the shirt pocket of our waiter as he handed us the menus. It seemed a little odd, but I dismissed it as a random thing. Until our busboy came with water & tableware. He too, sported a spoon in his breast pocket. I looked around the room, and all the waiters, waitresses, busboys, etc. had spoons in their pockets. When our waiter returned to take our order, I just had to ask, "Why the spoons?"
"Well," he explained, "our parent company recently hired some consulting efficiency experts to review all our procedures,and after months of statistical analyses, they concluded that our patrons drop spoons on the floor 73% more often than any other utensil; at a frequency of 3 spoons per hour per workstation. By preparing all our workers for this contingency in advance, we can cut our trips to the kitchen down and save time . . . nearly 1.5 extra man-hours per shift."
Just as he concluded, a "ch-ching" came from the table behind him, and he quickly replaced a fallen spoon with the one from his pocket. "I'll grab another spoon the next time I'm in the kitchen instead of making a special trip." he proudly explained.
I was impressed. "Thanks. I had to ask."
"No problem," he answered, then he continued to take our orders.
As the members of my dinner party took their turns, my eyes darted back and forth from each person ordering and my
menu. That's when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a thin, black thread protruding from our waiter's fly. Again, I dismissed it; yet I had to scan the room and, sure enough, there were other waiters and busboys with strings hanging out of their trousers. My curiosity overrode discretion at this point, so before he could leave I had to ask. "Excuse me, but . . . uh . . . why, or what . . . about that string?"
"Oh, yeah" he began in a quieter tone. "Not many people are that observant. That same efficiency group found we could save time in the men's room, too."
"You see, by tying a string to the end of our, eh, selves, we can pull it out at the urinals literally hands-free and thereby eliminate the need to wash our hands, cutting time spent in the restroom by over 93%!"
"Oh, that makes sense," I said, but then thinking through the process, I asked, "Hey, wait a minute. If the string helps you pull it out, how do you get it back in?"
"Well," he whispered, "I don't know about the other guys, but I use my spoon."
How does a rude princess sit on a horse? Snide-saddle.
Is This Really Necessary?
Ted comes home blackout drunk, as he does most nights.
With his eyes barely open, he misses his friend Carl in bed on top of his wife.
He lies down and instantly passes out.
Carl panics and tries to run but the wife stops him and whispers: "Don't go, this moron is so drunk he won't even feel me plucking a hair on his butt."
The wife does exactly that and the husband doesn't move.
Carl, now reassured, proceeds with the job.
Half an hour later Ted moves a bit, and Carl is just about to freak out, the wife stops him and plucks another hair from his buttocks.
Another hour later Carl is still going at it. After a while, just to be sure, he plucks another hair from Ted's butt.
Ted then moves around a bit and mumbles: "Look man, I don't mind you screwing my wife, but do you really need to keep score on my bum?"
A young man decides it's better be safe than sorry and decides to take an early colonoscopy exam.
As he lay on his side on the table, the doctor got ready to do the examination.
As the doctor was going in, he looked at the young patient, smiled and said, "Don't worry, it's normal to get an erection."
The patient, embarrassed, stated earnestly, "But I haven't got an erection."
"I was talking about mine."