#1
(Category: Miscellaneous)
Some time ago Mr. Clinton was hosting a state dinner when at the last minute his regular cook took ill and they had to get a replacement at short notice. The fellow arrived and turned out to be a very grubby looking man named Jon. The President voiced his concerns to his chief of staff but was told that this was the best they could do at such short notice. Just before the meal, the President noticed the cook sticking his fingers in the soup to taste it and again he complained to the chief of staff about the cook, but he was told that this man was supposed to be a very good chef. The meal went okay but the President was sure that the soup tasted a little off, and by the time dessert came, he was starting to have stomach cramps and nausea. It was getting worse and worse till finally he had to excuse himself from the state dinner to look for the bathroom. Passing through the kitchen, he caught sight of the cook, Jon, scratching his rear end and this made him feel even worse. By now he was desperately ill with violent cramps and was so disorientated that he couldn't remember which door led to the bathroom. He was on the verge of passing out from the pain when he finally found a door that opened and as he undid his trousers and ran in, he realised to his horror that he had stumbled into Monica Lewinsky's office with his trousers around his knees. As he was just about to pass out, she bent over him and heard her president whisper in a barely audible voice, "sack my cook". And that is how the whole misunderstanding occurred.
#2
(Category: Miscellaneous)
A police officer in a small town stopped a motorist who was speeding down Main Street. "But officer," the man began, "I can explain."
"Just be quiet," snapped the officer. "I'm going to let you cool your heels in jail until the chief gets back."
"But, officer, I just wanted to say,"
"And I said to keep quiet! You're going to jail!"
A few hours later the officer looked in on his prisoner and said, "Lucky for you that the chief is at his daughter's wedding. He'll be in a good mood when he gets back."
"Don't count on it," answered the fellow in the cell. "I'm the groom."
#3
(Category: Miscellaneous)
The Captain called the Sergeant in. "Sarge, I just got a telegram that Private Jones' mother died yesterday. Better go tell him and send him in to see me."
So the Sergeant calls for his morning formation and lines up all the troops. "Listen up, men," says the Sergeant. "Johnson, report to the mess hall for KP. Smith, report to Personnel to sign some papers. The rest of you men report to the Motor Pool for maintenance. Oh by the way, Jones, your mother died, report to the commander."
Later that day the Captain called the Sergeant into his office. "Hey, Sarge, that was a pretty cold way to inform Jones his mother died. Couldn't you be a bit more tactful, next time?"
"Yes, sir," answered the Sarge.
A few months later, the Captain called the Sergeant in again with, "Sarge, I just got a telegram that Private McGrath's mother died. You'd better go tell him and send him in to see me. This time be more tactful."
So the Sergeant calls for his morning formation. "Ok, men, fall in and listen up." "Everybody with a mother, take two steps forward." "Not so fast, McGrath!"
#4
(Category: Miscellaneous)
Calling in Sick.... A Cat Owner's Story Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable because no matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying. On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway because the truth was too humiliating to reveal. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown. In this case, the truth hurt. I mean it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife call out to me from the kitchen. "Ed!" she hearkened. "The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it." "You know where the button is." I protested through the shower (pitter-patter). "Reset it yourself!" "I am scared!" She pleaded. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" Pause. "C'mon, it'll only take a second." No logical assurance about how a disposal can't start itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from "Big-ol-scary-machinephobia," a condition brought on by watching too many Stephen King movies. It is futile to argue or explain, kind of like Lloyd Bentsen telling Americans they are over-taxed. And if a poltergeist did, in fact, possess the disposal, and she was ground into round, I'd have to live with that the rest of my life. So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence but it was I who would suffer. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning. Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She ("Buttons" aka "the Grater") had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. Now when men feel pain or even sense danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively, their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well-trained monk could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome; men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. Fleeing straight up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered. At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" If they had only known.
#5
(Category: Miscellaneous)
Q: What's the difference between a G-Spot and a golfball?
A: A guy will actually search for a golfball.
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