My wife and I adopted six female lab rats otherwise destined for euthanasia.
We’ve named them Marie Scurie, Robin Hood, Helen Keller (blind in one eye), Billie Wallace, Loki, and Emily Brontë
Not really a joke, but kind of funny.
Dan was a single guy living at home with his father and working in the family business. When he found out he was going to inherit a fortune when his sickly father died, he decided he needed a wife with which to share his fortune. One evening at an investment meeting he spotted the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her natural beauty took his breath away. “I may look like just an ordinary man,” he said to her, but in just a few years, my father will die, and I’ll inherit USD200 million."
Impressed, the woman obtained his business card and three days later, she became his stepmother.
Women are so much better at financial planning than men….
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Conversation with wife this morning. (True story.)
Wife: (walking up to hug me in kitchen)… “We met eleven years ago, and in a few days we will have been married for seven of those years.”
Me: (smiling and hugging her)… “Amazing. Known me eleven years and married to me for seven, huh?.. (joking tone)…Wow… I think that’s the longest anybody has ever put up with me… (chuckle)…”
Wife: (deadpan serious)… “I understand.”
Me: 
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Hey Tin: We’ve been putting up with you around here for a couple of year too… and it sure feels like 7.
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Love you, too, asshole. 
God had just finished creating Adam and felt quite pleased with himself.
Keen to impress his latest creation he began to parade all the animals he made in front of Adam, and allowed him to name them.
Adam got to business and after a not insubstantial amount of time named the zorse and the job was done.
God sat back, waiting for the praise he knew he deserved, but instead of looking impressed, Adam appeared to be upset.
“What’s wrong”? asked God, feeling a bit pissed off.
“I’m not sure” replied Adam, “But I did notice that there were two of each of the animals, but only one of me”.
“Ah” Said God, “That’s because I haven’t quite finished with you”
“What do you mean”? replied Adam.
“I’m going to make you a women” replied God, “And then you will be complete”.
“What’s a women”?
“Well, a women is beautiful, pleasant to touch, she will give you children, scratch your itches, worship the ground you stand on. She will also take care of you in your old age, and will never question your authority.”
“Wow” said Adam, “What will she cost me”?
“An arm and a leg said God”
Adam thought for a while, and then looked at his arms and legs. “O.K” he replied, “what will I get for a rib”?
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I had a dream the other night, and wasn’t sure where to share it so I’ll put it here.
By the way, because of the dream I’m a theist now.
I dreamt I died, and found myself standing at the foot of the most amazing crystal staircase that led all the way up to what appeared to be pearly gates.
“Shit” I thought, there is an afterlife.
With fingers crossed I started walking up the steps, at first it was all going well, but after some time I was overcome with weariness and each step became a mammoth effort, until at last I could go no further and I collapsed and started to cry.
And then I heard the sound of footsteps below me. Looking down I saw a figure racing towards me, and in no time he arrived at my side, and bugger me dead if it wasn’t Sheldon.
“What’s wrong with you”? He asked.
“I can’t go on, I’m stuck here”.
“Come on then, you plonker”. said Sheldon.
“Jump on my back and I’ll carry you up”.
Overcome with thankfulness, I gave him a hug and jumped on his back, and of we went at a speed that seemed to defy gravity.
In no time at all we arrived at the pearly gates, and there in all his finery was Saint Peter.
Peter looked at me with a rapturous smile and said “Bryan, enter into the joy of the Lord - it will exceed your wildest dreams”.
I looked around - the place was amazing, my heart filled with joy.
"And by the way ". said Peter, tie your donkey up and I’ll get someone to take care of him.
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Oh, wow! Such an inspirational dream, Bryan! So profound! So wonderfully prophetic! Put a lump in my throat and brought a tear to my eye. And I have to admit I was right there on the verge of returning to the world of theism. Yes, you almost had me, I must say. However, a moment after reading that miraculous story of yours, something occurred to me. Two problems. One, St. Peter called Sheldon a donkey, right? Well, there is no way Sheldon could ever be mistaken for a donkey. An ass, maybe. But never a donkey. And two, I find it incredibly difficult to believe Sheldon would EVER be in that big a hurry to get to heaven. Just too highly improbable. Therefore, I remain a skeptical atheist until a more believable miracle dream story comes along. Again, though, I was really-really close to falling for this one.
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That’s freaky, I had the exact same dream.
Well not exact maybe. You weren’t there, there was no heaven, or pearly gates. Just an ordinary set of stairs, and my knee hurt all the way up, then my foot and back hurt all the way back down.
Wait a minute, that wasn’t a dream. I was just changing the bed, and fetching the laundry down.
As you were, sorry.
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Bah humbug, if I’m giving someone a piggyback ride with my knees, at the very fucking least I’d want footprints in a sandy beach, and some bullshit about it being a metaphor for carrying them through life when things get a teensy weensy bit tough for them.
Except the footprints would be fucked up in this version obviously, as my knee and foot and back are pretty bad at the minute.
In fact why is no cunt carrying me? Besides in my dreams that avaricious cunt of an ex wife would have to get off my back first, anyway.
If only I could work out what that means?
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So you dreamed Sheldon was a donkey? Now… Why is it I don’t seem to have a problem with that? 
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Because it is another one of your furry bestiality fantasies?
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I’ve never been described as pure bred before, more of an ass really.
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See? I was right. That was the biggest factor in why his miracle prophetic vision-dream did not convince me. Otherwise, I would be leading a revival and preaching a sermon in here right now.
I have a friend who married an Italian woman. They got home after the honeymoon, and he told her she had to do the dishes and all the housecleaning. It took a couple of days, but on the third day he went downstairs to see the house was neat and clean, and all the dishes were washed and put away.
Another friend of mine married a Polish woman. After the honeymoon, he gave her orders to do the housecleaning, the dishes, and all the cooking. The first day he did not see any results. The second day he saw a bit of improvement. And on the third day he came home and saw the house spotless clean, all the dishes washed, and a fine hot meal waiting for him on the table.
I married a Hungarian woman. After our honeymoon, I ordered her to keep the house clean, the dishes washed, the laundry washed, the yard mowed, and have hot food prepared for every meal. On the first and second day, I did not see anything. By the third day, though, the swelling was down enough so I could see just a little out of my right eye. And my left arm had healed enough to allow me to load the dishwasher and fix myself a bowl of soup. (Would have fixed a sandwich, but it hurt too much to chew.) Still hurt when I peed for a few days after that.
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A woman from New York was driving through a remote part of Arizona when her car broke down. An American Indian on horseback came along and offered her a ride to a nearby town.
She climbed up behind him on the horse and they rode off. The ride was uneventful, except that every few minutes the Indian would let out a Ye-e-e-e-h-a-a-a-a!’ so loud that it echoed from the surrounding hills and canyon walls.
When they arrived in town, he let her off at the local service station, yelled one final ‘Ye-e-e-e-h-a-a-a-a!’ and rode off.
“What did you do to get that Indian so excited?” asked the service-station attendant. “Nothing,” the woman answered “I merely sat behind him on the horse, put my arms around his waist, and held onto the saddle horn so I wouldn’t fall off.”
“Lady,” the attendant said, “Indians don’t use saddles.”
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True story from last night.
Asked the boys downstairs to throw the clothes from the washer into the dryer.
They’re good boys. One of them did it.
I forgot to give detailed instructions.
This morning. Half dry/wet clothes sitting in dryer. He didn’t turn it on.
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That is just so true… I knew this guy … once… (*never mind).
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