So this guy is speeding down a freeway, miles above the speed limit, and a cop pulls him over. …
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He comes up to the man and asks, “Why were you speeding today sir?” …
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The man replies, “I’m a juggler in a circus, and I’m late for my next show. I apologize. I assume you’ll be needing my license and registration.” …
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The cop looks intrigued, and says “whoa, hold on a sec. my daughter loves juggling! If you let me film you for a minute and send it to my daughter, I’ll let you go with a warning.” …
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The juggler says, “officer, I don’t have my equipment with me, I had to ship it separately.” the officer thinks for a minute, and brings back five flares from his car and lights them. …
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The juggler effortlessly starts to toss and catch the flaming flares and the officer is very impressed.
Meanwhile, another man driving by pulls over and stops his car. he gets out, stumbles into the back seat of the police car, and closes the door. the officer slowly approaches, hand on his gun, and says “sir, I’m going to have to ask you to slowly step out of the vehicle.”
The man looks at the cop and chuckles, his words slurred, “sorry officer but I ain’t never gonna pass that new sobriety test you got there”
A man goes to the famous Lucas Carton restaurant in Paris with his girlfriend and orders the 1928 Mouton. The waiter returns with a bottle full of wine, pours a small amount in the glass for tasting. The customer picks up the glass, smells the wine, and puts it down on the table with a thud.
“This is not the 1928 Mouton.”
The waiter assures him it is, and soon there are another twenty people surrounding the table, including the chef and the manager trying to convince the man that the wine is the 1928 Mouton.
Finally someone asks him how he knows that it is not the 1928 Mouton.
“My name is Phillipe de Rothschild, and I make the wine.”
Finally, the original waiter steps forward and admits that he poured the Clerc Milon 1928.
“I could not bear to part with our last bottle of 1928 Mouton. You know Clerc Milon, it is in the same village as Mouton, you pick the grapes at the same time, the same cepage, you crush in the same way, you put them into similar barrels. You bottle at the same time, you even use eggs from the same chickens to fine them. The wines are the same, except for a small matter of geographic location.”
Rothschild beckons the waiter forward, and whispers to him, “When you return home tonight, ask your girlfriend to remove her underwear. Put one finger in one opening, another finger in the other, then smell both the fingers. You will understand what difference a small distance in geographic location makes.”
A blind man walks into a restaurant and sits down. The waiter, who is also the owner, walks up to the blind man and hands him a menu.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I am blind and can’t read the menu. Just bring me a dirтy fork from a previous customer. I’ll smell it and order from there.”
A little confused, the owner walks over to the dirтy dish pile and picks up a greasy fork. He returns to the blind man’s table and hands it to him. The blind man puts the fork to his nose and takes in a deep breath. “Ah, yes, that’s what I’ll have - meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
Unbelievable, the owner thinks as he walks towards the kitchen. Sheryl, the cook happens to be the owner’s wife. He tells her what had just happened. The blind man eats his meal and leaves.
Several days later, the blind man returns and the owner mistakenly brings him a menu again.
“Sir, remember me? I’m the blind man.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you. I’ll go get you a dirтy fork.” The owner retrieves a dirтy fork and brings it to the blind man.
After another deep breath, the blind man says, “That smells great. I’ll take the macaroni and cheese with broccoli.” Walking away in disbelief, the owner thinks the blind man is sсrеwing around with him and tells his wife Sheryl that the next time the blind man comes in he’s going to test him. The blind man eats and leaves.
He returns the following week, but this time the owner sees him coming and runs to the kitchen. He tells his wife, “Sheryl, put this fork down your раnтiеs and rub it all around before I take it to the blind man.”
Sheryl complies and hands her husband the fork.
As the blind man walks in and sits down, the owner is ready and waiting. “Good afternoon, sir, this time I remembered you and I already have the fork ready for you.”
The blind man puts the fork to his nose, takes a deep whiff, and says, “Hey I didn’t know that Sheryl worked here…”
The Patels were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Patel kissed his wife goodbye and said, ‘Well, I’m off now. The man should be here soon.’
Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. ‘Good morning, Ma’am’, he said, ‘I’ve come to…’
‘Oh, no need to explain,’ Mrs. Patel cut in, embarrassed, ‘I’ve been expecting you.’
‘Have you really?’ said the photographer. ‘Well, that’s good. Did you know babies are my specialty?’
‘Well that’s what my husband and I had hoped Please come in and have a seat !.
After a moment she asked, blushing, ‘Well, where do we start?’
‘Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun. You can really spread out there.’
‘Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn’t work out for Samama and me!’
‘Well, Ma’am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the results.’
‘My, that’s a lot!’, gasped Mrs. Patel.
‘Ma’am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I’d love to be In and out in five minutes, but I’m sure you’d be disappointed with that.’
‘Don’t I know it,’ said Mrs. Patel quietly.
The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. ‘This was done on the top of a bus,’ he said.
‘Oh, my God!’ Mrs. Patel exclaimed, grasping at her throat.
‘And these twins turned out exceptionally well - when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with.’
‘She was difficult?’ asked Mrs. Patel.
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look’
‘Four and five deep?’ said Mrs. Patel, her eyes wide with amazement.
‘Yes’, the photographer replied. ‘And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling - I could hardly concentrate, and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in.’
Mrs. Patel leaned forward. ‘Do you mean they actually chewed on your, uh…equipment? ‘
‘It’s true, Ma’am, yes.. Well, if you’re ready, I’ll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away.’
‘Tripod?’
‘Oh yes, Ma’am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It’s much too big to be held in the hand very long.’
Mrs. Patel fainted
Three men had been at a wild office party and died in a car accident on Christmas Eve. They soon found themselves at the Pearly Gates waiting to enter Heaven. But before they could pass, Sаinт Peter required them to present something related to Christmas.
The first man pulled off his sweater and handed it to Sаinт Peter.
“This sweater is made from virgin wool. You know, like Mary was a virgin.”
“Well, that’s a bit of a stretch, but I’m feeling lenient,” Sаinт Peter replied. “You can go on in.”
The second man quickly scratched on a business card and handed it to Sаinт Peter. “Before I died, I was a manager,” he said. “But I scratched off the second ‘a,’ and now it says ‘manger.'”
Saint Peter rolled his eyes. “Okay, that’s really a stretch. But since I let the other guy in, I suppose you can go in as well.”
The third man pulled out a pair of women’s underwear and handed them to Sаinт Peter.
“Now look, this is ridiculous,” Sаinт Peter exclaimed. “I was willing to give the other two guys the benefit of the doubt, but I fail to see how this could possibly be related to Christmas!”
The man blushed and responded, “They’re Carol’s.”