|A man walks into a crowded doctor's office. As he approaches the desk, the receptionist asks, "Sir, may we help you?"|
"There's something wrong with my Penis," he informs her.
The receptionist indignantly responds, "Sir, You shouldn't come into a crowded office and say something like that."
"Why not? You asked me what was wrong and I told you," he says.
"Because" replies the receptionist. "You've caused some embarrassment in this room full of people. You should have said there's something wrong with your ear or something and discussed the problem further with the doctor in private."
The man walks out, waits several minutes, and reenters. The receptionist smiles smugly and asks, "Yes?"
"There's something wrong with my ear," he states.
The receptionist nods approvingly, "And what is wrong with your ear, sir?"
"It burns when I piss out of it," the man replied.
The room eruptes in howls of laughter...
|This is an actual Job Application submitted to a McDonald's in Florida.|
NAME: Jeremy Skitt
SEX: Not yet but I'm waiting for the right person.
DESIRED POSITION: Reclining. Ha ha. But seriously, whatever's available. If I was in a position to be picky, I wouldn't be applying here in the first place.
DESIRED SALARY: $185,000 a year plus stock options and a Michael Ovitz style severance package. If that's not possible, make an offer and we can haggle.
LAST POSITION HELD: Target for middle-management hostility.
SALARY: Less than I'm worth.
MOST NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENT: My incredible collection of stolen pens and post-it notes.
REASON FOR LEAVING: It sucked.
HOURS AVAILABLE TO WORK: Any.
PREFERRED HOURS: 1:30-3:30 p.m., Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday.
DO YOU HAVE ANY SPECIAL SKILLS?: Yes, but they're better suited to a more intimate environment.
MAY WE CONTACT YOUR CURRENT EMPLOYER?: If I had one, would I be here?
HAVE YOU EVER BEEN CONVICTED OF A FELONY?: Is "felony" sex with a cat? Because if it is... no.
DO YOU HAVE ANY PHYSICAL CONDITIONS THAT WOULD PROHIBIT YOU FROM LIFTING UP TO 50 LBS?: Of what?
DO YOU HAVE A CAR?: I think the more appropriate question here would be "do you have a car that runs?"
HAVE YOU RECEIVED ANY SPECIAL AWARDS OR RECOGNITION?: I may already be a winner of the Publishers Clearinghouse Sweepstakes.
DO YOU SMOKE?: Only when set on fire.
WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE DOING IN FIVE YEARS?: Living in Bimini with a fabulously wealthy supermodel who thinks I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread. Actually, I'd like to be doing that now.
DO YOU CERTIFY THAT THE ABOVE IS TRUE AND COMPLETE TO THE BEST OF YOUR KNOWLEDGE?: No, but I dare you to prove otherwise.
SIGN HERE: Scorpio with Libra rising.
And they hired him for his honesty!
|When you write copy, you own the right of copyright to the copy you write, if the copy is right. If, however, your copy falls over, you must right your copy. If you write religious services, you write rite, and own the right of copyright to the rite you write.|
Conservatives write Right copy, and own the right of copyright, to the Right copy they write. A right-wing cleric would write Right rite, and owns the right of copyright to the Right rite he has the right to write. His editor has the job of making the Right rite copy right before the copyright can be right.
Should Reverend Jim Wright decide to write Right rite, then Wright would write Right rite, to which Wright has the right of copyright. Duplicating his rite would be to copy Wright's Right rite, and violate copyright, to which Wright would have the right to right.
|While cruising at 40,000 feet, the airplane shuddered and Mr. Benson looked out the window.|
"Good lord!" he screamed, "one of the engines just blew up!"
Other passengers left their seats and came running over; suddenly the aircraft was rocked by a second blast as yet another engine exploded on the other side.
The passengers were in a panic now, and even the stewardesses couldn't maintain order. Just then, standing tall and smiling confidently, the pilot strode from the cockpit and assured everyone that there was nothing to worry about.
His words and his demeanor seemed made most of the passengers feel better, and they sat down as the pilot calmly walked to the door of the aircraft. There, he grabbed several packages from under the seats and began handing them to the flight attendants. Each crew member attached the package to their backs.
"Say," spoke up an alert passenger, "aren't those parachutes?"
The pilot said they were.
The passenger went on, "But I thought you said there was nothing to worry about?"
"There isn't," replied the pilot as a third engine exploded. "We're going to get help."