| Charlie was playing with his little brother Mickey when the little boy asked whether he could fly like Superman. "Sure you can, Mickey," Charlie said, "Just flap your arms really really hard." So Mickey climbed up on the window sill, started flapping like mad, jumped, then smashed into the ground just a few inches below. Horrified, their mother came screaming into the room and said, "What the heck happened?!?" Charlie said, "I was just teaching Mickey not to believe everything someone tells him." |
| I saw my coworker Don Monday morning. I was about to ask him how his weekend went when I noticed his black eye. It was a real shiner. "What the hell happened to you? Were you mugged?" I asked. "Worse" Don said painfully. "Were you hit by a car? What happened?" I asked again. "Barb and I went to up to that Bed and Breakfast in Nevada City this weekend. We met Jill and Lorne there." he said. "Well? How did you get that black eye? How did you get those bruises on your arms? What about that cut over your other eye? Were you in an auto accident?" I asked, interrupting his story. I let Don finish his story. "Well, Sunday morning we were seated at the table with Jill and Lorne and a couple on their honeymoon. We were all having breakfast together. That honeymoon couple looked at each other with love in their eyes, when he turned to his new bride and asked 'Would you please pass the sugar, sugar'. "We all smiled and Barb had that look, you know the 'isn't that romantic' look women get. "Then Lorne said to Jill 'please pass the honey, honey.' "Barb gave a heavy sigh and looked at me. The last thing I remember before waking up in the emergency room was turning to Barb and saying 'Please pass the tea-bag'." Don explained. |
| Finkelman just arrives in America and needs a job, and has no qualms about inventing the necessary qualifications. He reasons that once he finds work, he will impress the boss so much that everything will be forgiven. After a successful initial interview with the Encyclopedia of American History, he is called back to meet the sales manager. "You say you have experience selling books?" "Lots of it," replies Finkelman. "And you have a Master's in American history from the University of Michigan?" "Correct," replies Finkelman. "History is my field of study." "Well then," says the sales manager, "As soon as I can complete this form, we can get you started in our firm." While the sales manager is making a few notations, Finkelman, obviously pleased with himself, begins to whistle. Looking around the room, he notices pictures of Washington and Lincoln on the walls. Pointing to the portraits, he turns to the sales manager and says, "Fine looking men. Your partners?" |
| Jim strolls into the paint section of B&Q and walks up to the assistant. "I'd like a pint of canary-colored paint," he says. "Certainly," says the clerk. "Mind if I ask why you need it?" "My parakeet," says Jim. "See, I want to enter him in a canary contest. He sings so sweetly that I know he's sure to win." "Well, you can't do that, Man!" the assistant says. "The chemicals in the paint will almost certainly kill the poor thing!" "No, they won't," Jim replies. "Listen, Buddy, I'll bet you ten quid your parakeet dies if you try to paint him." "You're on!" says Jim. Two days later Jim comes back looking very sheepish and puts ten pounds on the counter in front of the clerk. "So the paint killed your bird?" "Indirectly," Jim says. "He seemed to handle the paint okay, but he didn't survive the sanding between coats." |