Boss Jokes

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So a Cowboy is on the run from the Native Americans...
He is pursued by the whole tribe, and only has one bullet left in his gun. He rides forth and thinks to himself, "That's it, I am fuскеd."
Suddenly the Angel comes down from Heavens and tells him, "You ain't 'fuскеd' just yet; go hide in that bush." The Cowboy promptly hides in the bush, his adversaries are initially distraught but then the Sharp Eye, the chief's eldest son, spots him and continues the chase."
"I am truly fuскеd now," says the Cowboy to himself; but the Angel intercedes again, saying "You ain't truly fuскеd just yet, go hide in the cave." He follows the Angel's advise, but the Sharp Eye and his henchmen find him again and continue the pursuit.
Finally, his stallion gives up on him, the tribe surrounds him and the Cowboy thinks, "Well, at last, I am truly fuскеd." The Angel then appears and says,
"No, you ain't fuскеd just yet, you have one last bullet, кill the Chief's son." Cowboy takes out his gun and kills the Sharp Eye, chief's son.
"Well, *now* you're truly fuскеd," says the Angel.
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A frog goes into a bank “What can I help you with?” asks the Teller.
“I’d like to apply for a loan” says the frog.
“Oh” says the Teller “you need to speak with our Loan Officer, Miss Whack”.
The Teller leads the frog to Miss Whacks office and, informs her that the frog wants to apply for a loan. “What kind of loan are you in the market for?” asks the Loan Officer.
“Any loan will do” says the frog “I want to buy a Lilly pad.”
“I see.” says the Loan Officer “Well, in order to apply for a loan, I first need to know your name. What is your name?”
“My first name is Kermit” answers the frog.
“Your first name is Kermit?” asks the Loan Officer.
“Correct,” answers the frog “and my last name is Jagger”.
“Your name is Kermit Jagger?” The Loan Officer asks incredulously.
“Correct,” says the frog “my mother was a frog and my father is Мiск Jagger.”
“I see” says the Loan Officer “Well, in order to secure a loan, the bank needs some type of collateral. Do you have any real estate, bonds, precious metals, etc?”
“No,” answers the frog “all I have is this.” The frog produces a miniature, pink elephant and holds it up to her face.
Flustered, the Loan Officer (whose first name is Patty) snatches it from the frog and storms off to the Bank Managers office.
“Sir!” she says as she barrages into his office “there’s a frog out there who wants a loan for a Lilly pad, and he says his name is Kermit Jagger.”
“Kermit Jagger?” Asks the Bank Manager.
“Yes,” she says “his mother was a frog and his father is Мiск Jagger. Anyway, all he has for collateral is this tiny, pink elephant thing. I don’t even know what this is!” The Bank Manager exclaims:
“That’s a Knick-Knack, Patty Whack, give that frog a loan. His old man’s a Rolling Stone!”
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A young achiever recently graduated from university and is in the process of interviewing for her first "real" job. She made it past the preliminaries with one of her preferred employers and was invited to have dinner at a fancy restaurant with her potential boss. Naturally, she arrives early to make sure that the reservations are in order and to see if anything can be done to make the occasion a standout.
Well, what do you know, there's a celebrity in the restaurant: reality TV star, real estate mogul, and Presidential hopeful, Donald Trump. The young woman, who happens to be attractive, boldly walks up to his table and says,
"Mr Trump, I know this is very forward of me, but I'm a huge admirer. My family has donated to your campaign and we've all turned out for your rallies. I'm having an interview in this restaurant in a few minutes and it would make such a good impression if you dropped by my table and said hello."
Trump, mellow with good food and drink, and charmed by her appearance and enthusiasm agrees to do her this favour. Soon the young woman is chatting with her potential boss and mentor over their meals. On his way out, Trump stops by and greets the young woman like an old friend. She rolls her eyes, gives an exasperated sigh, and says,
"Fuск off, Don, we're trying to eat."
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An old lady goes into a bank...
Coutt's Bank, to be exact, and asks to open an account. She is told, politely but coolly, that they are a very exclusive bank and have stringent requirements for prospective clients. "I know," she says. "May I see the manager, please?"
She is shown into the manager's office and repeats her request to be allowed to open an account, and the manager explains that they very rarely take new customers, and she would need to have at least a million pounds in investable assets, not including real estate. (r/theydidtheresearch) But she says that is not a problem as she has over a million pounds in cash on her, and hands over a briefcase.
While the manager delegates the task of counting the money to an underling, he asks how she comes by so much cash. "Oh, I make bets," she says. "For instance, I am willing to bet £50,000 that by lunchtime on Monday your testicles will have turned square."
The manager, of course, takes the bet at once, and on learning that the briefcase did indeed hold over a million pounds, he gives his approval for her account to be opened. She bids him a good day and makes an appointment to see him again at noon the following Monday.
When she returns she is accompanied by a smartly dressed man, and explains to the manager that this is her lawyer, whom she has brought along as a witness. The bank manager smiles and says that he can understand this, but she is going to find she is out of luck. "Well, maybe," she says,
"But considering the money involved, I'm sure you'll agree that I am entitled to put you to the test."
She takes a large tablespoon from her handbag and says "Be so kind as to drop your trousers and underpants, please," and when he does so she cups his sсrотuм in the tablespoon and sighs sorrowfully. Meanwhile however her lawyer has begun silently ваnging his head on the bank manager's desk.
"Oh dear," says the manager, a little patronisingly, "I fear my learned friend is dismayed at your reckless gambling away of your wealth."
"Oh no," says the old lady, "it's just that last Thursday I bet him a hundred thousand pounds that I'd have your ваlls in a tablespoon before the banks shut on Monday."
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