A blind man walks into a pub and finds himself a seat at the bar, he orders a pint and the barman brings it to him.
He says to the barman “do you want to hear a good dumb blonde joke?”
The barman says “look mate, I know you can’t see, but I’m six foot seven, and I’m an ex pro wrestler and I’m blonde. The guy sat to your left is my mate John who’s an ex heavyweight boxer and he’s blonde. The guy on your right just got out of prison for beating four guys half to death and he’s blonde. Also sat at the table just behind you are two special forces guys on leave and both of them are blonde. So do you still want to tell your dumb blonde joke?”
And he says “nah, not if I’m going to have to explain it five times.”
Actually, I must credit my sister for an awesome “comeback,” back in the mid 1970’s when she had a job at the local mall’s Cinema tearing tickets, serving concessions, etc.
This was also an era of “flashing,” where a man wearing a trench coat (…and nothing else under it!) would “flash” an unsuspecting female (usually) and then run off. Well, one summer Saturday evening, my sister Sam(antha) is taking tickets, and along comes a flasher. TONS of patrons watching this, and Sam doesn’t flinch.
She says to this guy, “OH…I’m sorry, sir, I will need to see your ticket, NOT your STUB!!!!”. Thunderous applause for Sam….perfect in every way!
“One day, Einstein was traveling by train from Princeton, when a train conductor passed through the corridor, stamping the tickets of all the passengers. When he arrived in front of Einstein, the scientist searched for the ticket in his vest pocket, but didn’t find it; it wasn’t even there in the pants pockets; so he looked in the briefcase, but he couldn’t find it.
The driver said, “Doctor Einstein, I know who you are. I’m sure you bought the ticket. Don’t worry. Einstein nodded in thanks.
And the driver continued to stamp the tickets in the aisle. Just as he was about to move on to the next car, he turned to see the large body looking under his seat for the ticket.
The driver turned around and said, “Dr. Einstein, Dr. Einstein, don’t worry, I know who you are.” This is not a problem. You don’t need a ticket. I’m sure you bought one.
Einstein looked at him and said, “Young man, I also know who I am. What I don’t know is where I’m going. That’s why I’m looking for my ticket.”
I have no faith in those so called DNA tests, which allegedly, from a simple blood sample, can tell you where you are from, so i did a test on my pet frog.
I discovered the frog was 70% British, 20% French, 7% Italian, 2% Dutch and a tad Pole.
If lawyers are disbarred and clergymen defrocked, doesn’t it follow that electricians can be delighted, musicians denoted, cowboys deranged, models deposed, tree surgeons debarked, and dry cleaners depressed?
