|A nun was walking in the convent when one of the priests noticed she was gaining a little weight. "Gaining a little weight are we sister Susan?" he asked.|
"No, Father. Just a little gas." sister Susan explained.
A month or so later the priest noticed that she had gained even more weight.
"Gaining some weight are we sister Susan?" he asked again. "Oh no, father. Just a little gas."
She replied again. A couple of months later the priest noticed sister Susan pushing a baby carriage around the convent.
He leaned over and looked in the carriage and said, "Cute little fart."
|Wilson runs a nail factory and decides his business needs a bit of advertising.|
He has a chat with a friend who works in marketing, and he offers to make a television ad for Wilson's Nails.
"Give me a week," says the friend, "and I'll be back with a tape."
A week goes by and the marketing executive comes to see Wilson.
He puts a cassette in the video and presses play. A Roman soldier is busy nailing Jesus to the cross.
He turns to face the camera and says with a grin, "Use Wilson's Nails, they'll hold anything."
Wilson goes mad, shouting, "What is the matter with you? They'll never show that on television. Give it another try, but no more Romans crucifying Jesus!"
Another week goes by and the marketing man comes back to see Wilson with another tape. He puts it in the machine and hits play.
This time the camera pans out from a Roman standing with his arms folded to show Jesus on the cross.
The Roman looks up at him and says, "Wilson's Nails, they'll hold anything."
Wilson is beside himself. "You don't understand. I don't want anything with Jesus on the cross! Now listen, I'll give you one last chance. Come back in a week with an advertisement that I can broadcast."
A week passes and Wilson waits impatiently. The marketing executive arrives and puts on the new video.
A naked man with long hair, gasping for breath, is running across a field. About a dozen Roman soldiers come over the hill, hot on his trail.
One of them turns to the camera and says, "If only we had used Wilson's Nails!"
|A man in a state of excessive inebriation rolled up at a fairground rifle range booth and threw down the necessary money. The booth operator at first refused to let him have a turn, considering that his inebriated state would endanger the public. But the drunk insisted and was given a gun.|
He aimed unsteadily in the general direction of the target and after tying to focus, pulled the trigger three times. The booth owner, on inspecting the target, was astonished to see that he had scored three bulls-eyes. The star prize for the evening was a large set of glassware, but the showman was certain that the drunk wasn't aware of what he had done, and gave him instead a consolation prize, a turtle. The drunk wandered off into the crowd.
An hour or so later he came back, even more drunk than before. Once again the showman demurred, but once again the drunk insisted, and once more scored three bulls-eyes and was given another turtle.
Eventually the drunk rolled up again and insisted on a third attempt. Once more he picked up the rifle, waved it around in the general direction of the target, and pulled the trigger three times. Once more he had scored three bulls-eyes. But this time there was an onlooker with good eyesight.
"That's fantastic," the man said. "Hasn't he scored three bulls?"
The showman, cursing his luck, made a play of going over to the target and inspecting it closely.
"Yes Sir!" he announced to the crowd. "This is fantastic! Congratulations, sir, you have won the star prize, this magnificent 68-piece set of glassware."
"I don't want any bloody glasses," the drunk replied. "Give me another one of those crusty meat pies."
|After a hard day at work I decided to ride my bicycle to town to wind down a bit.|
I came into town and decided I'd go in the liquor store to get a bottle of scotch. I came out of store and since my bike had a basket in front, I put bottle in there.
It occurred to me that if I fell over with the bike, the bottle of scotch would break. So I decided to drink scotch an then head home. So I did.
Good thing too, as I fell over 10-12 times on the way home.