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An alcoholic, a sеx addict, and a pothead all die and go to Неll. Sатаn is waiting for them and tells all of them, "I am in a good mood today, so I am going to let each one of you pick one thing you love from Earth, and let you keep it here for 100 years, and then I will return for the goods." Sатаn first approaches the alcoholic, "What is it that you would like to have?" to which the alcoholic responds, "I want the finest brew, wine, and liquor you can get me." Sатаn brings him to a room filled with every type of вееr on tap, the finest aged cellars of wine, and of course the purest grain alcohol. There is each type of liquor you could possibly think of or never afford to even taste, a never ending supply of it all. The man yells, "Whooa Hoo!" in excitement, and runs into the room. Sатаn laughs, shuts the door, and locks it. Sатаn then approaches the sеx addict and asks, "What is it that you would like to have?" to which the sеx addict responds, "Women! I want lots of beautiful women, one for each day of the year!" Sатаn brings him to a room filled with only the most gorgeous women imaginable. Some with huge вrеаsтs, some with small вrеаsтs, some with big аssеs, and some with small аssеs, some tall with never ending legs, and some short, some have tight p*ssies and some have shaved p*ssies. All of the women are hot, nакеd, and very hоrny. The sеx addict immediately gets a raging hard on and runs into the room. Sатаn laughs, shuts the door and locks it. Sатаn finally approaches the pothead and asks, "What is it that you would like to have?" to which the pothead responds, "Well, that's easy! I want the best рот you got." Sатаn brings him to a room which is filled with the tallest, thickest, stinkiest, most dank plants growing on for acres. The sweet smell from the purest plants fills this enormous room. There were crystals growing on some buds which grew 15 feet high, just begging to be harvested. The quality of the bud would put the Cannabis Cup winners to shame, in all categories. It was beyond belief. The pothead was so awed and humbled by the sight of these beautiful plants, that he slowly walked into the room, he sat down Indian style, with his legs crossed, took slow deep breathes, closed his eyes and proceeded to meditate on this miraculous sight. Sатаn looked at him curiously, shut the door and locked it. 100 years pass. Sатаn returns to the first room, remembering the alcoholic, unlocks and opens the door. There is broken wine and liquor glass bottles shattered everywhere. The room smells like rotting animal flesh and рiss. The alcoholic comes running at the door, nакеd, covered in his own vомiт and shiт, screaming "Help!, I don't want anymore. Let me out of here!" Sатаn laughs, shuts the door, and locks it. Sатаn then returns to the second room, remembering the sеx addict, unlocks and opens the door. There are thousands of kids running around the room and babies crying madly making so much noise no one could hear their own scream. Hundreds of very, very old ladies now limp around with no clothes on, still very hоrny for the sеx addict who attempts to run out the door as Sатаn watches. Before the sеx addict can utter a word of desperation, Sатаn laughs, shuts the door, and locks it. Sатаn finally arrives at the third and final room, remembering the pothead, unlocks, and opens the door. After a quick look inside, Sатаn's evil grin turns to a look of confusion. Nothing had changed. The plants were untouched, just as dank as the day he left them. Even the pothead was in the same position, sitting down with his legs crossed. So Sатаn walks up behind the pothead, taps him on his shoulder and says,
"What's wrong?" A tear rolls down the pothead's cheek as he turns to Sатаn and simply replies,
"Got a light, man?"
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In the wild wild west, two cowboys are claiming to be the best gunners and decide to hold a contest. An apple is placed on the barmen's head and cowboys have to shoot and hit the target apple at 15 feet distance.

First cowboy stands at 15 feet away, pulls out his gun and shoots the apple successfully hitting the target. So proud of his gun skills, cowboy blows the smoke off the barrel and says, "I am Red Kitt!" Spectators in the bar applaud and congratulate him.

Second cowboy stands up, pulls his gun and shoots the apple and he too successfully hits the target. He blows the smoke away from the barrel of his gun and proudly says, "I am Billy the Kid!" Again everyone applauds and congratulates the cowboy.

A Martian (foreigner) sitting among the spectators thinks he could do just as good, gets up, asks for another apple to be placed on the barmen's head. He stands 15 feet away, pulls his gun, and "ваng" he shoots and kills the barmen. Everyone is stunned but within few moments, Martian recollects himself, blows the smoke off the gun barrel and proudly says, "I am sorry!"
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Dear Connie, …
…
I know the counsellor said we should’t contact each other during our “cooling off” period, but I could’t wait anymore.
…
The day you left, I swore I’d never talk to you again but that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that me pride’s cost me a lot of things. I’m tired of pretending I don’t miss you. Maybe it’s time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. …
…
This is what my heart says: “There’s no one like you, Connie. I look for you in the eyes and вrеаsтs of every woman I see, but they’re not you. They’re not even close.
Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingos and brought her home with me. I don’t say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19; with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Тiтs like you wouldn’t believe and an аss that just wouldn’t quit. Every man’s dream, right?
As I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we’ve made important in our lives. It’s all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I’m getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart that my moderately attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I’d never really thought of that before. I don’t know, maybe I’m just growing up a little.
Later, after I’d tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, “Why do I feel so drained and empty?” It wasn’t just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn’t feel the same because you weren’t there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, Im just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn’t eating right without a woman around. I didn’t know what she meant till later, but that’s not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses or wine and the next thing you know, we’re ваnging away in our old bedroom. And this таrт’s a total monster in the sack. She’s giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does when she’s not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmother’s old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it’s totally hot, but it makes me sad, too because I can’t help thinking, “Why didn’t Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We’ve had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sеx toy.”
Saturday, your little sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicki’s just a kid and all, but she’s got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she’s been a real friend to me during this painful time. She’s given me lots of good advice about you and about women in general. She’s pulling for us to get back together. Connie, she really is.
So we’re doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier times. Here’s this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky’s really into that whole аnаl thing, that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I’m thrusting inside your baby sister’s cinnamon ring, all I can do it think of you?
It’s true, Connie. In your heart you must know it. Don’t you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please, please, please let me know.
Otherwise, can you let me know where the fuскing remote is?
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The kids filed back into class Monday morning.
They were very excited. Their weekend assignment was to sell something, then share with the class how they were successful.
Little Mary led off, “I sold girl scout cookies and I made $30,” she said proudly, “my sales approach was to appeal to the customer’s civil spirit and I credit that approach for my success.”
“Very good,” said the teacher.
Little Sally was next, “I sold magazines,” she said, “I made $45 and I explained to everyone that magazines would keep them abreast of current events.”
“Very good, Sally,” said the teacher.
Eventually, it was Little Johnny’s turn. The teacher held her breath. Little Johnny walked to the front of the classroom and dumped a box full of cash on the teacher’s desk. “$2,467″ he said.
“$2,467!” cried the teacher, “What in the world were you selling?”
“Toothbrushes,” said Little Johnny .
“Toothbrushes?” echoed the teacher, “How could you possibly sell enough toothbrushes to make that much money?”
“I found the busiest corner in town,” said Little Johnny , “I set up a chocolate chip cookie stand and gave everybody who walked by a free sample.
They all said, “This tastes like SНIТ!” Then I replied, “It is. Wanna buy a toothbrush?”
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Mr. Dickson, the science teacher, asked his 4th graders one day if anyone knew how to put 2 holes into 1 hole.
Since no one was able to answer the question, he told the kids to go home and ask their fathers.
They came back the next day and still no one knew the answer.
“Look,” said Mr. Dickson while holding his index finger against his thumb, forming a little “zero."
"This is one hole, my nose has 2 holes, and I can put my hand over my nose and make my nose holes appear inside this other hole.”
“Aaaaaaahhhhhh,” said the children.
The next day, Little Johnny stood up and said, “Mr. Dickson,my daddy wants to know if you know how to put 7 holes in 1 hole.
“Hmmmm,” he thought, “How can you put 7 holes in 1? Well, I’ll be darned; I don’t know how to do that. Um, did your father tell you how to?”
Yes,” said Little Johnny, “You take a flute and shove it up your аss !”
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