A man and his wife, both recently retired, went into town to buy some milk and bread. They were only in the store for about five minutes, but when they came out, they noticed a police officer writing a parking ticket, clearly about to place it on their car.
"Come on, man, how about giving a senior citizen a break?" the man exclaimed. The police officer ignored him and continued writing the ticket, before sticking it firmly to the windshield. "You're a duмваss," the man shouted at the police officer.
The police man glared at them and started writing another ticket for having worn tyres on their car. Getting annoyed, the wife shouted at the cop: "You're a s**t head."
The police officer finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first. Then, he started writing a third ticket. This went on for about 20 minutes. The more the couple abused the cop, the more tickets he wrote.
Then a bus arrived and the couple jumped on and went home.
"Sixty is the worst age to be," said the 60-year-old.
"You always feel like you have to рее. And most of the time, you stand at the toilet and nothing comes out!"
"Ah, that's nothin'," said the 70-year-old. "When you're seventy, you can't even сrар anymore. You take laxatives, then you sit on the toilet all day and nothin' comes out!"
"Actually," said the 80-year-old, "80 is the worst age of all!"
"Do you have trouble peeing too?" asked the 60-year-old.
"No, not really. I рее every morning at 6:00. I рее like a racehorse on a flat rock; no problem at all."
"Do you have trouble crapping?" asked the 70-year-old.
"No, I сrар every morning at 6:30."
With great exasperation, the 60-year-old said, "Let me get this straight. You рее every morning at 6:00 and сrар every morning at 6:30.
So what's so tough about being 80?"
"I don't wake up until 7:00!"
A wise old gentleman retired and purchased a modest home near a junior high school.
He spent the first few weeks of his retirement in peace and contentment. Then a new school year began. The very next afternoon three young boys, full of youthful, after-school enthusiasm, came down his street, beating merrily on every trashcan they encountered. The crashing percussion continued day after day, until finally the wise old man decided it was time to take some action.
The next afternoon, he walked out to meet the young percussionists as they banged their way down the street. Stopping them, he said, "You kids are a lot of fun. I like to see you express your exuberance like that. In fact, I used to do the same thing when I was your age. Will you do me a favor? I'll give you each a dollar if you'll promise to come around every day and do your thing." The kids were elated and continued to do a ваng-up job on the trashcans.
After a few days, the old-timer greeted the kids again, but this time he had a sad smile on his face.
"This recession's really putting a big dent in my income," he told them. "From now on, I'll only be able to pay you 50 cents to beat on the cans."
The noisemakers were obviously displeased, but they did accept his offer and continued their afternoon ruckus. A few days later, the wily retiree approached them again as they drummed their way down the street.
"Look," he said, "I haven't received my Social Security check yet, so I'm not going to be able to give you more than 25 cents. Will that be okay?"
"A lousy quarter?" the drum leader exclaimed. "If you think we're going to waste our time, beating these cans around for a quarter, you're nuts! No way, mister. We quit!"
And the old man enjoyed peace.
Sophie and Shirley, two elderly widows in a Florida adult community, are curious about the latest arrival in their building — a quiet, nice looking gentleman who keeps to himself.
Shirley says, “Sophie, you know I’m shy.
Why don’t you go over to him at the pool and find out a little about him. He looks so lonely.”
Sophie agrees, and later that day at the pool, she walks up to him and says,
“Excuse me, mister. I hope I’m not prying, but my friend and I were wondering why you looked so lonely.”
“Of course I’m lonely, he says, “I’ve spent the past 20 years in prison.”
“You’re kidding! What for?”
“For killing my third wife. I strangled her.”
“What happened to your second wife?”
“I shot her.”
“And, if I may ask, your first wife?”
“We had a fight and she fell off a building.”
“Oh my,” says Sophie. Then turning to her friend on the other side of the pool, she yells,
“Yoo hoo, Shirley. He’s single.”