quote:

Originally posted by SarahLee:
DIVORCE LETTER
Text: Dear Wife:

I'm writing you this letter to tell you that I'm leaving you forever. I've been a good man to you for seven years and I have nothing to show for it.

These last two weeks have been hell. Your boss called to tell me that you quit your job today and that was the last straw.

Last week, you came home and didn't even notice that I had a new haircut, had cooked your favorite meal and even wore a brand new pair of silk boxers. You ate in two minutes, and went straight to sleep after watching all of your soaps. You don't tell me you love me anymore; you don't want sex or anything that connects us as husband and wife.

Either you're cheating on me or you don't love me anymore; whatever the case, I'm gone.

Your EX-Husband


P.S . Don't try to find me. Your SISTER and I are moving away to West Virginia together! Have a great life!



Dear Ex-Husband -

Nothing has made my day more than receiving your letter. It's true that you and I have been married for seven years, although a good man is a far cry from what you've been.

I watch my soaps so much because they drown out your constant whining and griping. Too bad that doesn't work.

I DID notice when you got a hair cut last week, but the first thing t hat came to mind was 'You look just like a girl!' Since my mother raised me not to say anything if you can't say something nice, I didn't comment.

And when you cooked my favorite meal, you must have gotten me confused with MY SISTER, because I stopped eating pork seven years ago.

About those new silk boxers: I turned away from you because the $49.99 price tag was still on them, and I prayed that it was a coincidence that my sister had just borrowed fifty dollars from me that morning.

After all of this, I still loved you and felt that we could work it out. So when I hit the lotto for ten million dollars, I quit my job and bought us two tickets to Jamaica. But when I got home you were gone. Everything happens for a reason, I guess.

I hope you have the fulfilling life you always wanted. My lawyer said that the letter you wrote ensures you won't get a dime from me.
So take care.


Signed,

Your Ex-Wife, Rich As H@ll and Free!


P.S. I don't know if I ever told you this, but my sister Carla was born Carl. I hope that's not a problem.

That was the hardest I've ever laughed I spewed my fu*kin milk all over the god damn key board

I'm not old enough but

In Grand Marine Style
News anchor Dan Rather, The Reverend Jesse Jackson, NPR reporter Cokie Roberts, and an American Marine were hiking through the jungle one day when they were captured by cannibals.

They were tied up, led to the village and brought before the chief. The chief said, "I am familiar with your Western custom of granting the condemned a last wish. Before we kill and eat you, do you have any last requests?"

Dan Rather said, "Well, I'm a Texan; so I'd like one last bowlful of hot, spicy chili." The chief nodded to an underling, who left and returned with the chili. Rather ate it all and said, "Now I can die content."

Jesse Jackson said, "You know, the thing in this life I am proudest of is my work on behalf of the poor and oppressed. So before I go, I want to sing "We Shall Overcome" one last time." The chief said, "Go right ahead, we're listening." Jackson sang the song, and then said, "Now I can die in peace."

Cokie Roberts said, "I'm a reporter to the end.
I want to take out my tape recorder and describe the scene here and what's about to happen. Maybe someday someone will hear it and know that I was on the job til the end." The chief directed an aide to hand over the tape recorder, and Roberts dictated some comments. She then said, "Now I can die happy."

The chief turned and said, "And now, Mr. Marine, what is your final wish?"

"Kick me in the ass," said the Marine.

"What?" said the chief. "Will you mock us in your last hour?"

"No, I'm not kidding. I want you to kick me in the ass," insisted the Marine.

So the chief shoved him into the open, and kicked him in the ass. The Marine went sprawling, but rolled to his knees, pulled a 9mm pistol from his waistband, and shot the chief dead. In the resulting confusion, he leapt to his knapsack, pulled out his M4 carbine, and sprayed the cannibals with gunfire. In a flash, the cannibals were dead or fleeing for their lives.

As the Marine was untying the others, they asked him, "Why didn't you just shoot them? Why did you ask them to kick you in the ass?"

"What!?" said the Marine, "And have you jerks call ME the aggressor?!"

Where is the joke in that?

Generally news reporters enjoy spewing lies about the Military so the Marine didnt want to attack first........

Nuns and Hot Dogs
Two nuns took their first trip outside the convent. They had never seen a baseball game, so they got tickets. Once inside, they sat in the bleachers, and hearing a vender selling hot dogs, one said, "We've never had hot dogs before," and they decided to order a couple.

The first nun unwrapped her hot dog, and proceeded to quickly wrap it up again, saying, "Oh, my!"

"What's wrong, sister?" asked her companion.

"Well," came the reply, "which part of the dog did you get?"


VIPs
I was in the VIP lounge last week en route to Seattle. While in the lounge, I notice Bill Gates sitting on the chesterfield enjoying a cognac. I was meeting with a very important client who was also flying to Seattle with me but she was running a bit late.

Being a forward type of guy, I approached Mr. Gates and introduced myself. I explained to him that I was conducting some very important business and how much I would appreciate it if he could throw a quick "hello Chris" at me when I was with my client. He agreed.

Ten minutes later while I was conversing with my client, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Bill Gates. I turned around and looked up at him. He said,

"Hi Chris, what's happening?"

To which I replied, "Buzz off Gates, I'm in a meeting."


Experience
Several weeks after a young man had been hired, he was called into the personnel director's office.

"What is the meaning of this?" the director asked. "When you applied for this job, you told us you had five years experience. Now we discovered this is the first job you've ever held."

"Well," the young man replied, "in your advertisement you said you wanted somebody with imagination."



Cow Milking
A farmer was milking his cow. He was just starting to get a good rhythm going when a bug flew into the barn and started circling his head. Suddenly, the bug flew into the cow's ear.

The farmer didn't think much about it, until the bug squirted out into his bucket. It went in one ear and out the udder.

Not too long ago, thegunny's grandson was lost at a large shopping mall. He approached a uniformed policeman and said, “I’ve lost my Grandpa!”

The cop asked, “What’s he like?”

The little boy hesitated for a moment and then replied,
“Single Malt Scotch Whiskey and women with big tits.”

pissing and moaning
Kansas farm wife called the local phone company to report that her
telephone failed to ring when her friends called and that, on the few
occasions when it did ring, her dog always moaned right before the
phone rang.

The telephone repairman proceeded to the scene, curious to see
this psychic dog or senile lady. He climbed a telephone pole, hooked in his
test set, and dialed the subscriber's house.

The phone didn't ring right away, but then the dog moaned and the telephone began to ring.

Climbing down from the pole, the telephone repairman found:

1. The dog was tied to the telephone system's ground wire with a steel chain and collar.

2. The wire connection to the ground rod was loose.

3. The dog was receiving 90 volts of signaling current when the number was called.

4. After a couple of jolts, the dog would start moaning and then urinate.

5. The wet ground completed the circuit, thus causing the phone to ring.

Which demonstrates that some problems CAN be fixed by pissing and moaning.

This is why parents drink......


A boss wondered why one of his most valued employees hadn't called in

or phoned in sick one day. Having an urgent problem with one of the

main computers, he dialed the employee's home phone number and was

greeted with a child's whisper.


"Hello?"


"Is your Daddy home?" he asked.


"Yes," whispered the small voice.


"May I talk with him?"


The child whispered, "No"


Surprised and wanting to talk to an adult, the boss asked, "Is your

Mommy there?"


"Yes."


"May I talk with her?"


Again the small voice whispered, "No"


Hoping there was somebody with whom he could leave a message, The boss

asked, "Is there anybody else there?"


"Yes, " whispered the child, "a policeman."


Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee's home, the boss

asked, "May I speak with the policeman?"


"No, he's busy", whispered the child.


"Busy doing what?"


"Talking to Mommy and Daddy and the Fireman," came the whispered answer.


Growing more worried as he heard what sounded like a helicopter through

the earpiece on the phone, the boss asked,


"What is that noise?"


"A hello-copper" answered th e whispering voice.


"What is going on there?" demanded the boss, now truly Apprehensive.


Again, whispering, the child answered, "The search team just landed the

hello-copper."


Alarmed, concerned and a little frustrated the boss asked, "What are

they searching for?"


Still whispering, the young voice replied wit h a muffled giggle:


"ME."

A wise old gentleman retired and purchased a modest home near a junior high school. He spent the first few weeks of his retirement in peace and contentment. Then a new school year began. The very next afternoon three young boys, full of youthful, after-school enthusiasm, came down his street, beating merrily on every trash can they encountered. The crashing percussion continued day after day, until finally the wise old man decided it was time to take some action.

The next afternoon, he walked out to meet the young percussionists as they banged their way down the street. Stopping them, he said, “You kids are a lot of fun. I like to see you express your exuberance like that. In fact, I used to do the same thing when I was your age. Will you do me a favor? I’ll give you each a dollar if you’ll promise to come around every day and do your thing.”

The kids were elated and continued to do a bang-up job on the trashcans.

After a few days, the old-timer greeted the kids again, but this time he had a sad smile on his face. “This recession’s really putting a big dent in my income,” he told them. “From now on, I’ll only be able to pay you 50 cents to beat on the cans.”

The noisemakers were obviously displeased, but they accepted his offer and continued their afternoon ruckus. A few days later, the wily retiree approached them again as they drummed their way down the street.

“Look,” he said, “I haven’t received my Social Security check yet, so I’m not going to be able to give you more than 25 cents. Will that be okay?”

“A freakin’ quarter?” the drum leader exclaimed. “If you think we’re going to waste our time, beating these cans around for a quarter, you’re nuts! No way, dude. We quit!” And the old man enjoyed peace and serenity for the rest of his days.

some good little comebacks...feel free to apply them where appropriate:

I don’t know what your problem is, but I’ll bet it’s hard to pronounce.

I see you’ve set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public.

Ahhh…I see the screw-up fairy has visited us again.

You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers.

I’m already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth.

I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you.

I’m trying to imagine you with a personality.

How do I set a laser printer to stun?

Political Correctness is a doctrine, fostered by a
delusional, illogical minority, and rabidly promoted
by an unscrupulous mainstream media, which holds
forth the proposition that it is entirely possible to
pick up a turd by the clean end.

A D.I.'s Rules for Dating His Daughter

Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.

Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose his compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five: It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."

Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. On issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

A guy comes home early and finds his wife in bed with another man.
He yells: " what the hell are you doing?"
the wife turns to her boyfriend and says:" See? I told you he was stupid."

A Big shot is fooling around with his secretary and gets her pregnant. To cover his tracks and save his reputation he packs her off to Italy to have the child. He tells the girl to send him a cryptic message when the baby is born. " Write the word ' spaghetti ' on a postcard and mail it to me, then I'll know what to do ."

One day he comes home and his wife greets him. " Dear, I got the wierdest postcard in the mail. All it said was: ' spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti - two with sausage and meatballs, two without.' "

The man keeled over with a heart attack.

This is a bricklayer's accident report, which was printed in the newsletter of the Australian equivalent of the Workers' Compensation board.

ACCIDENT CLAIM FORM REPORT FOR INJURIES;

Dear Sirs:

I am writing in response to your request for additional information in Block 3 of the accident report form. I put "poor planning" as the cause of my accident.

You asked for a fuller explanation and I trust the following details will be sufficient.

I am a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six story building.

When I completed my work, I found that I had some bricks left over which, when weighed later were found to be slightly in excess of 500 lbs.

Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley, which was attached to the side of the building on the sixth floor.

Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it.
Then I went down and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the bricks You. will note in Block 11 of the accident report form that I weigh 135 lbs.

Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope.
Needless to say, I proceeded at a rapid rate up the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel which was now proceeding downward at an equal, impressive speed.
This explained the fractured skull, minor abrasions and the broken collar bone, as listed in section 3 of the accident re port form.
Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley

Fortunately, by this time, I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope, in spite of beginning to experience (pain), At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Now, devoid of the weight of bricks, that barrel weighed approximately 50 lbs.

I refer you again to my weight. As you can imagine, I began a rapid descent, down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up.
This accounts for the two fractured ankles, broken tooth and several lacerations of my legs and lower body. Here my luck began to change slightly. The encounter with the barrel seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of bricks and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked.

I am sorry to report, however, as I lay there on the pile of bricks, in pain, unable to move, I again lost my composure and presence of mind and let go of the rope and I lay there watching the empty barrel begin its journey back down onto me. This explains the two broken legs. I hope this answers your inquiry.

anniversary
Two old guys are sitting in a bar. Bill says to Joe
"Isn't your 50th wedding anniversary coming up?"

"Yup"

"Doin' anything special?"

"Well, I took the misuses out to Palm Springs for
our 25th. Maybe I'll go and bring her back"