A random joke I read on someone’s facebook status.
The phone rings and the lady of the house answers,
‘Hello.’
‘Mrs. Sanders, please.’
‘Speaking.’
‘Mrs. Sanders, this is Doctor Jones at Saint Agnes Laboratory. When your husband’s doctor sent his biopsy to the lab last week, a biopsy from another Mr. Sanders arrived as well. We are now uncertain which one belongs to your husband. Frankly, either way the results are not too good.’
‘What do you mean?’ Mrs. Sanders asks nervously.
‘Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer’s and the other one tested positive for HIV. We can’t tell which is which.’
‘That’s dreadful! Can you do the test again?’ questioned Mrs. Sanders.
‘Normally we can, but Medicare will only pay for these expensive tests one time.’
‘Well, what am I supposed to do now?’
‘The folks at Medicare recommend that you drop your husband off somewhere in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don’t sleep with him.’
*****
I need a good joke. C’mon guys, let me hear them!
Posted on July 23, 2010, in Bright Ideas, Cassie and tagged funny observations. Bookmark the permalink. 14 Comments.
Sisters From Different Misters 
An elderly Italian man lay dying in his bed. In death’s agony, he suddenly
smelled the aroma of his favorite anaisette cookies wafting up the stairs.
He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed.
Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with
even greater effort forced himself down the stairs, gripping the railing with
both hands.
With labored breath, he leaned against the doorframe, gazing into the
kitchen. Were it not for death’s agony, he would have thought himself
already in heaven: There, spread out upon newspapers on the kitchen
table were literally hundreds of his favorite cookies.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted wife,
seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself toward the table,
landing on his knees in a rumpled posture. His parched lips parted; the
wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth; seemingly bringing him back to life.
The aged and withered hand shockingly made its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when his wife suddenly smacked it with a spatula.
“Stay out of those,” she said. “They’re for the funeral.”
ha ha ha ha! I feel so bad for the poor schmuck, but it’s true!
For my first encore:
The Englishman’s wife steps up to the tee and, as she bends over to place
her ball, a gust of wind blows her skirt up and reveals her lack of underwear.
“Good God, woman! Why aren’t you wearing any knickers?” her husband demanded.
“Well, you don’t give me enough housekeeping money to afford any.”
The Englishman immediately reaches into his pocket and says, “For the sake of decency, here’s $50. Go and buy yourself some underwear.”
Next, the Irishman’s wife bends over to set her ball on the tee. Her skirt
also blows up to show that she is wearing no undies.
“Blessed Virgin Mary, woman! You’ve no knickers. Why not?”
She replies, “I can’t afford any on the
money you give me.”
He reaches into his pocket and says, “For the sake of decency, here’s $20.
Go and buy yourself some underwear!”
Lastly, the Scotsman’s wife bends over. The wind also takes her skirt over
her head to reveal that she, too, is naked under it.
“Sweet mudder of Jesus, Aggie! Where the frig are yer drawers?”
She too explains, “You dinna give me enough money ta be able ta affarrd
any.”
The Scotsman reaches into his pocket and says, “Well, fer the love ‘o Jasus, ‘n the sake of decency, here’s a comb. Tidy yerself up a bit.”
BAHA HA HA HAHA!
That is funny. I got a good chuckle from that one. I was never good at remember any jokes. Sorry. But thanks for the laugh. Hope you’ve been well. This summer’s been a bit crazy. Got my three kids at home 24/7. Driving me nuts!
Oooh! I feel you, Guy. I hope you guys have been well, too. I’ve been reading, just sucking lately at the commenting. Sigh.
So good to hear from you!
Cassie, we read your joke and both of us laughed out loud. Neither of us is good at remembering jokes, so we have nothing to offer you except applause!
I wish I could take all the creds. But it made me almost pee my pants!
Picture Betty White as the Old Lady:
A farmer stopped by the local mechanics shop to have his truck fixed. They couldn’t do it while he waited, so he said he didn’t live far and 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. She asked, ‘Can you tell me how to get to 1603 Mockingbird Lane ?’
The farmer said, ‘Well, as a matter of fact, my farm is very close to that house. I would walk you there but I can’t carry this lot.’
The old lady suggested, ‘Why don’t you put the can of paint in the bucket. 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 says ‘Let’s take my short cut 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?’
The farmer said, ‘Holy smokes lady! 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?’
The old lady replied, ‘Set the goose down, cover him with the bucket, put the paint on top of the bucket, and I’ll hold the chickens.
Boy, you’re gonna have to save some for Sunday!
A nurse dies and goes to heaven. She is met at the Pearly Gates by St. Peter who asks her questions about her life. Over St. Peter’s shoulder the nurse spots a man in a white coat sitting on a cloud with a stethoscope around his neck.
“Oh brother!”, she cries. “Is that a doctor?”
St Peter glances over his shoulder and says, “No, that’s God. He just thinks he’s a doctor.”
HA!
Q: Why do mermaids wear seashells?
A: Because B shells aren’t big enough!
Oooh, if only seashells were for me. Damn kids.