A group of fellows always enjoyed their game of golf, but one of the boys was having trouble seeing the ball. His friends kept telling him he needed glasses.
Finally, he bought himself a pair, and his game improved 100%.
Back in the clubroom, they were talking over a few beers. “You’re playing better since you got your glasses,” one said.
“You’re right, I look down, and the ball’s as big as a basketball, just can’t miss it now,” he said. After a few more beers, he said. “Gotta go to the toilet; be back in a minute.”
When he came back, the front of his trousers was all wet.
“Gee, what happened to you?” his friends asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I got in there, pulled it out, and it looked too big to be mine, so I put it back.
I started dating this guy that I've known for a long time, and I thought, 'Oh, this'll be so great, we've been friends for a while,' until he gave me what he thought was a compliment. He said, 'Even though you used to be wafer thin and you're not anymore, I'm still just as attracted to you.' Oh yeah, he's a real smooth talker. So naturally, I'm upset about this. I call my best friend Carla, and she goes, 'You know what -- that is such сrар because, first of all, you have never been wafer thin.'
Two mice met in the early nineteen-sixties, when manned flights in orbit were as yet in the planning stage. After the usual exchange of pleasantries, one said, “But you look worn out, Michael. What’s the matter?”
Michael shrugged his little shoulders and said, “Life isn’t easy for us scientists, you know. I’m in space research, and those experimental flights in rockets, with the weightlessness and the acceleration and the uncertainty of safe return - Well, it’s hard on one’s nerves.”
“In that case,” said his friend, “why don’t you quit and take a job in some other line of work?”
“That’s easy to say,” said Michael, “but stop and think - Is a job in cancer research any better?”