School jokes, Teacher Jokes
A somewhat advanced society has figured out how to package basic knowledge in pill form.
A student, needing some learning, goes to the pharmacy and asks what kind of knowledge pills are available.
The pharmacist says: "Here's a pill for English literature."
The student takes the pill and swallows it and has new knowledge about English literature.
"What else do you have?" asks the student.
"Well I have pills for art history, biology, and world history," replies the pharmacist.
The student asks for these, and swallows them and has new knowledge about those subjects.
Then the student asks: "Do you have a pill for math?"
The pharmacist says, "Wait just a moment," goes back to the storeroom, brings back a whopper of a pill, and plonks it on the counter.
"I have to take that huge pill for math?" inquires the student.
The pharmacist replies, "Well you know math always was a little hard to swallow."
Three couples marry and stay at the same hotel for their honeymoons, where they are taken care of by Dave the bellboy.
The first man married a nurse.
Dave thinks to himself, "Nurses are known to be hot to trot."
The second man married a telephone operator.
Dave thinks to himself, "Telephone operators have sеxy voices."
The third man married a school teacher.
Dave thinks to himself, "Poor guy, teachers are frigid."
The next morning, Dave reports to work and gets a room service call from the nurse's husband.
He sourly says, "Don't ever marry a nurse. All I heard last night was 'You're not sanitary, you're not sanitary.'"
Then, the telephone operator's husband calls and sourly says, "Don't ever marry a telephone operator. All I heard last night was 'Your three minutes are up, your three minutes are up.'"
Later that afternoon, the teacher's husband calls and happily says, "When you marry, be sure to marry a school teacher. All I heard last night was 'We are going to do this over and over until we get right.'"
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?"