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Ole and Lena went to the same Lutheran Church. Lena went every Sunday and taught Sunday School. Ole went on Christmas and Easter and once in a while, he went on one of the other Sundays.
On one of those Sundays, he was in the pew right behind Lena and he noticed what a fine looking woman she was.
While they were taking up the collection, Ole leaned forward and said, "Hey, Lena, how about you and me go to dinner in Westby next Friday?"
"Yah, Ole, dot vould be nice," said Lena.
Well, Ole couldn't believe his luck. All week long he polished up his old Ford, and on Friday he picked Lena up and took her to the finest restaurant in Westby.
When they sat down, Ole looked over at Lena and said, "Hey, Lena, vould you like a cocktail before dinner?"
"Oh, no, Ole," said Lena. "Vat vould I tell my Sunday School class?"
Well, Ole was set back a bit, so he didn't say much until after dinner. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Hey, Lena," said Ole, "vould you like a smoke?"
"Oh, no, Ole," said Lena. "Vat vould I tell my Sunday School class?"
Well, Ole vas feeling pretty low after that, so he just got in his Ford and was driving Lena home when they passed the Motel. He'd struck out twice already, so he figured he had nothing to lose.
"Hey, Lena," said Ole, "how vould you like to stop at that motel with me?"
"Yah, Ole, dot vould be nice," said Lena.
Well, Ole couldn't believe his luck. He did a U-turn right then and there across the median and everything, and drove back to the motel and checked in with Lena.
The next morning Ole got up first. He looked at Lena lying there in the bed, her hair all spread out on her pillow. "Vat have I done? Vat have I done?" thought Ole.
He shook Lena and she woke up. "Lena, I've got to ask you von ting," said Ole. "Vat are you going to tell your Sunday School class?"
"Lena said, "The same ting I alvays tell dem. You don't have to smoke and drink to have a good time!"
A young boy went up to his father and asked him, "Dad, what is the difference between 'potentially' and 'realistically'?"
The father thought for a moment, then answered, "Go ask your mother if she would sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars. Then ask your sister if she would sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars, and then, ask your brother if he’d sleep with Brad Pitt for a million
dollars. Come back and tell me what you learn from that."
So the boy went to his mother and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?"
The mother replied, "Of course, I would! We could really use that money to fix up the house and send you kids to a great university!"
The boy then went to his sister and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?"
The girl replied, "Oh, good heavens! I LOVE Brad Pitt and I would sleep with him in a heartbeat. Are you nuts?"
The boy then went to his brother and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?"
"Of course," the brother replied. "Do you know how much a million bucks would buy?"
The boy pondered the answers for a few days and then went back to his dad.
His father asked him, "Did you find out the difference between 'potentially' and 'realistically'?"
The boy replied, "Yes, 'Potentially', you and I are sitting on three million dollars, but 'realistically', we’re living with two h***s and a future congressman."
Two Middle East mothers are sitting in a cafe chatting over a plate of tabouli and a pint of goat’s milk.
The older of the mothers pulls a bag out of her purse and starts flipping through photos.
And they start reminiscing.
"This is my oldest son Mohammed. He would be 24 years old now."
"Yes, I remember him as a baby" says the other mother cheerfully.
"He’s a martyr now though" mum confides.
"Oh, so sad, dear" says the other.
"And this is my second son Kalid. He would be 21."
"Oh, I remember him," says the other happily, "he had such curly hair when he was born."
"He’s a martyr too" says mum quietly.
"Oh, gracious me…" says the other.
"And this is my third son. My baby. My beautiful Ahmed. He would be 18," she whispers.
"Yes" says the friend enthusiastically, "I remember when he first started school."
"He’s a martyr also," says mum, with tears in her eyes.
After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Muslim mother looks wistfully at the photographs and says, "They вlоw up so fast, don’t they?"
Dear Diary, For my birthday this year, my daughter (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try. I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Belinda, who identified herself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My daughter seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress and this is it.
MONDAY: Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Belinda waiting for me. She is something of a Greek goddess – with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring! Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week-!!
TUESDAY: I drank a whole рот of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Belinda's rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!! It's a whole new life for me.
WEDNESDAY: The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot. Belinda was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. Her voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning and when she scolds, she gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Belinda put me on the stair monster. Why the heck would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Belinda told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other сrар too.
THURSDAY: Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed as her thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late – it took me that long to tie my shoes. Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. She sent another skinny trainer to find me. Then, as punishment, she put me on the rowing machine — which I immediately sank.
FRIDAY: I hate Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Sтuрid, skinny, anemic, anorexic little cheerleader!! If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it. Belinda wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the sтuрid barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
SATURDAY: Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her voice made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.
SUNDAY: I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank the Lord that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my daughter (the little jеrк) will choose a gift for me that is fun — like a root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!
‘Mum, I want a bike for my birthday’ demanded Little Johnny. He was a troublemaker at school and was constantly getting into trouble at home, at school and in the street. Barry’s mother asked him if he thought he deserved to get a bike for his birthday. Little Johnny, of course, thought he did. Barry’s mother, being a Christian woman, wanted him to reflect on his behaviour over the last year, and write a letter to God, and tell him why he deserved a bike for his birthday.
LETTER 1:
Dear God,
I have been a very good boy this year and I would like a bike for my birthday. I want a red one.
Your friend, Johnny.
Johnny knew this wasn’t true. He had not been a very good boy this year, so he tore up the letter and started again.
LETTER 2:
Dear God,
This is your friend Johnny. I have been a pretty good boy this year, and I would like a red bike for my birthday.
Thank you, Johnny.
Barry knew this wasn’t true either. He tore up the letter and started again.
LETTER 3:
Dear God,
I have been an OK boy this year and I would really like a red bike for my birthday.
Your friend, Johnny.
Johnny knew he could not send this letter to God either. Johnny was very upset. He went downstairs and told his mother he wanted to go to church. Johnny’s mother thought her plan had worked because Johnny looked very sad. ‘Just be home in time for dinner,’ his mother said. Johnny walked down the street to the church and up to the altar. He looked around to see if anyone was there. He picked up a statue of the Virgin Mary. He slipped it under his shirt and ran out of the church, down the street, into his house, and up to his room. He shut the door to his room and sat down with a piece of paper and a pen.
Johnny began to write his letter to God.
LETTER 4:
Dear God,
I’ve got your Mum. If you ever want to see her again, Send the F**king Bike!!