“Oh God no!” cries the man. “My golfing is over! Please Doc, what’s the good news?”
“The good news is, I have another one to replace it with, but it’s a woman’s arm. I’ll need your permission before I go ahead with the transplant.”
“Go for it doc” says the man. “As long as I can play golf again.”
The operation went well and a year later the man was out on the golf course when he bumped into the surgeon.
“Hi, how’s the new arm?” asks the surgeon.
“Just great,” says the businessman. “I’m playing the best golf of my life. My new arm has a much finer touch and my putting has really improved.”
“That’s great,” said the surgeon.
“Not only that,” continued the golfer, “my handwriting has improved, I’ve learned how to sew my own clothes and I’ve even taken up painting landscapes in watercolors.”
“Unbelievable!” said the surgeon, “I’m so glad to hear the transplant was such a great success. Are you having any side effects?”
“Well, just one problem,” said the golfer. “Every time I get an еrестiоn, I also get a headache.
Eric hasn’t felt well for days, so he visits his doctor on Monday. The doctor examines him, does some blood tests and gives Eric a prescription for acid reflux. Eric schedules a follow-up apointmennt for Friday.
Doctor: Eric, I have some good news and some bad news, which shall I tell first?
Eric: Uhhh, well, give me the bad news first, I guess.
Doctor: You have advanced pancreatic cancer and you tested positive for НIV. With the proper therapy you may be able to live another three to four months.
Eric: Oh no! But doctor! you said there is GOOD news! What is the good news?
Doctor: Oh yes, there is good news… You know my really good-looking receptionist?
Eric: Yes
Doctor: So hot she takes your breath away just looking at those dark eyes, the perfect teeth when she smiles
Eric: Yes, that’s Nurse Jensen. But you mentioned some GOOD News, doctor
Doctor: Yes, nurse Jensen, in her perfect, crisp, white tight uniform, with more than a hint of décolletage, the display of those enormous Double Dee melons…
Eric: Doctor! You said there is GOOD news! What, pray tell, is the GOOD News?
Doctor: I am getting to the good news! Now where was I? Oh yes, Nurse Jensen! Ahhh, those beautiful legs, perfectly shaped calves and thighs, ascending to the Gates of Paradise! The most perfect аss you ever feasted your eyes on…a body that just won’t quit…
Eric: Doctor! Please! Please tell me the GOOD news!
Doctor: The Good News, my dear Eric, is that I’m taking nurse Jensen out to dinner tonight at the most expensive French Restaurant in town. I’ve rented the Lover’s Suite at the BerkShire Hotel. and who knows where the night will end?
The day after his wife disappeared, a man answered his door to find two grim-faced policemen. "We are sorry Mr. Smith, but we have some information about your wife," said one of the policemen.
"Tell me! Did you find her?!" Mr. Smith shouted.
The Policemen looked at each other. One said,
"We have some bad news, some good news, and
Some really great news. Which do you want to hear first?"
Fearing the worst, Mr. Smith said,
"Give me the bad news first."
The Police said,
"I'm sorry to tell you, sir, but this morning, we found your wife's body in the sea under the Third Mainland Bridge."
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Smith swallowing hard, he asked,
"What's the good news?"
The policeman continued, "When we brought her out, she had five fishes and three tortoises clinging to her."
Stunned, Mr Smith demanded, "If that's the good news, what's the great news?"
The policeman said,
"We are going to bring her out again tomorrow."
Two 90-year-old women, Bertha and Betty, had been friends all of their lives.
When it was clear that Bertha was dying, Betty visited her every day.
One day Betty said, “Bertha, we both loved playing softball all our lives, and we played all through high school. Please do me one favor: When you get to heaven, somehow you must let me know if there’s women’s softball there.”
Bertha looked up at Betty from her deathbed and said, “Betty, you’ve been my best friend for many years. If it’s at all possible, I’ll do this favor for you.”
Shortly after that, Bertha passed on.
A few nights later, Betty was awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to her, “Betty, Betty.”
“Who is it?” asked Betty, sitting up suddenly. “Who is it?”
“Betty - it’s me, Bertha.”
“You’re not Bertha. Bertha just died.”
“I’m telling you, it’s me, Bertha,” insisted the voice.
“Bertha! Where are you?”
“In heaven,” replied Bertha. “I have some really good news and a little bad news.”
“Tell me the good news first,” said Betty.
“The good news,” Bertha said, “is that there’s women’s softball in heaven. Better yet, all of our old buddies who died before me are here, too. Even better than that, we’re all young again. Better still, it’s always springtime and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play softball all we want, and we never get tired.”
“That’s fantastic,” said Betty. “It’s beyond my wildest dreams! So what’s the bad news?”
“You’re pitching Tuesday.”