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The graveside service just barely finished, when there was a massive clap of thunder, followed by a tremendous bolt of lightning, accompanied by even more thunder rumbling in the distance.
The little old man looked at the pastor and calmly said, 'Well, she's there.
 
Last month, a world-wide telephone survey was conducted by the UN. The only question asked was:

"Would you please give your honest opinion about possible solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world?"

The survey was a complete failure because:

In Eastern Europe they didn't know what "honest" meant.

In Western Europe they didn't know what "shortage" meant.

In Africa they didn't know what "food" meant.

In China they didn't know what "opinion" meant.
In the Middle East they didn't know what "solution" meant.

In South America they didn't know what "please" meant.

In the USA they didn't know what "the rest of the world" meant.

And in Britain everyone hung up as soon as they heard the Indian accent
 
Beethoven dies and is buried at the Vienna cemetery. A few days after
the funeral, the priest is doing his rounds and hears some noises
emanating from the grave! Alarmed he runs to fetch the bishop.

The bishop doesn't really believe him, but when he arrives at the
graveside he realises it is true! There it is... music coming from
somewhere below the ground.

The bishop is at loss. He sends for the cardinal. The cardinal comes
right away, since he was a big fan of Beethoven's music. He puts his
ear to the ground. "That's the 9th symphony!" he exclaims. The priest
and bishop cross themselves in awe.

More music. "The 8th!" More. "The 7th!" More. "The 6th!" The
cardinal straightens up and gets to his feet. "Ah," he says. "I
understand now. There is no need for concern."

...

"It's just Beethoven decomposing."
 
A man walked into the Lingerie Department of Macy's in New York City.
He tells the sales lady, "I would like a Jewish bra for my wife, size 34B."
With a quizzical look, the sales lady asked, "What kind of bra?"
He repeated "A Jewish bra. She said to tell you that she wanted a Jewish bra, and that you would know what she wanted."
Ah...... now I remember," said the saleslady. "We don't get as many requests for them as we used to. Mostly our customers lately want the Catholic bra, or the Salvation Army bra, or the Presbyterian bra."
Confused, and a little flustered, the man asked "So, what are the differences?"
The sales lady responded. "It is really quite simple. The Catholic bra supports the masses. The Salvation Army lifts up the fallen, and the Presbyterian bra keeps them staunch and upright."
He mused on that information for a minute and said: "Hmmm. I know I'll regret asking, but what does the Jewish bra do?"
A Jewish bra," she replied, "makes mountains out of molehills."
 
A little old man shuffled slowly into the "Orange Dipper," an ice cream parlor in Trailer Estates, and pulled himself slowly, painfully, up onto a stool. After catching his breath he ordered a banana split.

The waitress asked kindly, "Crushed nuts?"

"No," he replied, "Arthritis!"
 
A woman and her boyfriend are out having a few drinks. While they're sitting there having a good time together, she starts talking about this really great new drink. The more she talks about it, the more excited she gets, and starts trying to talk her boyfriend into having one.

After a while he gives in and lets her order the drink for him. The bartender brings the drink and puts the following items on the bar:

A salt shaker, a shot of Baileys, and a shot of lime juice. The boyfriend looks at the items quizzically and the woman explains.

"First you put a bit of the salt on your tongue, next you drink the shot of Baileys and hold it in your mouth, and finally you drink the lime juice."

So, the boyfriend, trying to go along and please her, goes for it. He puts the salt on his tongue... salty but OK. He drinks the shot of Baileys...smooth, rich, cool, very pleasant. He thinks...this is OK. Finally he picks up the lime juice and drinks it.

In one second the sharp lime taste hits. At two seconds the Baileys curdles.

At three seconds the salty, curdled taste and mucous-like consistency hits. At four seconds it feels as if he has a mouth full of nasty snot.

This triggers his gag reflex, but being manly, and not wanting to disappoint his girlfriend, he swallows the now foul tasting drink.

When he finally chokes it down he turns to his girlfriend, and says, "Jesus, what do you call that drink?"

She smiles widely at him and says, "Blow Job Revenge."
 
A young monk, new to the monastery, noticed that the scribes were copying the scriptures from copies, not from originals. He expressed his concern to the abbot that any mistakes in the copies would be passed on, and the scriptures would become corrupted. The abbot replied that this is the way it had always been done but the point was valid, and he would check it out. He descended into the vaults to look over the originals, and he was gone a long time.

With some concern, the young monk went looking for him and found him sobbing with abandon, his tears pouring upon his frock.

"What is the matter, my good abbot?" asked the monk, to which the abbot choked out,

"In the original, the word was 'celebrate'!"
 
A woman comes home and tells her husband, "Remember those headaches I've been having all these years? Well, they're gone."

"No more headaches?" the husband asks, "What happened?"

His wife replies, "Margie referred me to a hypnotist. He told me to stand in front of a mirror, stare at myself and repeat, 'I do not have a headache, I do not have a headache, I do not have a headache.' It worked! The headaches are all gone."

The husband replies, "Well, that's wonderful."

His wife then says, "You know, you haven't exactly been a ball of fire in the bedroom these last few years. Why don't you go see the hypnotist and see if he can do anything for that?"

The husband agrees to try it.

Following his appointment, the husband comes home, rips off his clothes, picks up his wife, and carries her into the bedroom. He puts her on the bed and says, "Don't move, I'll be right back."

He goes into the bathroom and comes back a few minutes later, jumps into bed, and makes passionate love to his wife like never before. His wife says, "Wow! That was wonderful!"

The husband says, "Don't move! I'll be right back."

He returns to the bathroom and then goes back to the bedroom, and round two is even better than the first time. The wife sits up and her head is spinning.

Her husband again says, "Don't move, I'll be right back."

With that, he goes back into the bathroom. This time, his wife quietly follows him and there, in the bathroom, she sees him standing in front of the mirror, saying, "She's not my wife. She's not my wife. She's not my wife."
 
My wife bought one of those memory foam mattresses for our bed.

She went away to her mother's for a few days and is due back tomorrow.

I'm crapping myself. Is there any way to delete the memory?
 
"Wife texts husband on a cold winter morning: “Windows frozen, won’t open.”
Husband texts back: “Gently pour lukewarm water over it.”

Wife texts back 5 minutes later: “Computer really screwed up now.”
 

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