One Sunday, sitting on the side of the highway waiting to catch speeding drivers, a State Police Officer sees a car puttering along at 22 MPH.
He thinks to himself, “This driver is just as dangerous as a speeder!” So he turns on his lights and pulls the driver over.
Approaching the car, he notices that there are five old ladies - two in the front seat and three in the back - wide eyed and white as ghosts. The driver, obviously confused, says to him, “Officer, I don’t understand, I was doing exactly the speed limit! I always go exactly the speed limit. What seems to be the problem?”
“Ma’am,” the officer replies, “you weren’t speeding, but you should know that driving slower than the speed limit can also be a danger to other drivers.”
“Slower than the speed limit? No sir, I was doing the speed limit exactly! Twenty-two miles an hour!” the old woman says a bit proudly.
The State Police officer, trying to contain a chuckle explains to her that “22” was the route number, not the speed limit.
A bit embarrassed, the woman grinned and thanked the officer for pointing out her error.
“But before I let you go, Ma’am, I have to ask . . . Is everyone in this car OK? These women seem awfully shaken and they haven’t muttered a single peep this whole time,” the officer asks with concern.
“Oh, they’ll be all right in a minute officer. We just got off Route 119.”
The answer is simple: you did.
See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He’d tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn’t feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fсuкing treated you.
At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your position by claiming that you were “just friends.” Besides, he totally wasn’t your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fат, or too poor, or didn’t know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease. Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren’t the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you’re single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and dоuсhе bags, you wonder, “What happened to all the nice guys?” Well, once again, you did. You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive “just-a-” friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren’t really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you’re upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he’d have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an аsshоlе than he ever wanted to be. Fact is, now, he’s probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I’m sorry that it took the complete absence of “nice guys” in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that. So, if you’re looking for a nice guy, here’s what you do: 1.) Build a time machine. 2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your аss. 3.) Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab ahold of it. I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don’t really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you. If you were five years younger. So, please: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you’ve fcuked yourself over. You’re getting older, after all. It’s time to excise the bullsh1t and deal with reality. You didn’t want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn’t fсuкing want you, now. Sincerely, A Recovering Nice Guy.
A salesman was traveling through the countryside, selling insect repellent. He came to a farmhouse and tried his pitch on the farmer. “Sir, my bug spray is so good you will never be bitten again, I guarantee it.”
The farmer was dubious. “Young man, I’ll make you a proposition. I’ll tie you out in my cornfield buck nакеd, covered with that bug spray. If there is not a single bite on you come morning, I’ll buy a whole case from you.”
The salesman was delighted. They went to the field and he stripped. The farmer sprayed him thoroughly with the bug spray and tied him to a stake. Back to the house went the farmer. The next morning, the farmer and his family trooped out to the corn field. Sure enough,the salesman was there, hanging in his bonds, not a single bite on him. Yet he was a total wreck! Pale, ghastly, haggard, and drawn, but not one bite on him.
The farmer was perplexed. “Son,” he said, “Now, you don’t have a bite on you but you look like hеll! What the devil happened?”
The salesman looked up through bloodshot eyes and croaked, “For crying out loud, Mister, doesn’t that calf have a Mother!!!
There were two secretaries that worked at this very large company. They didn’t know one another very well, but were friendly at work.
It was vacation time and they stood before the vacation schedule to see when they had time off. They noticed that their vacation days were the same.
Both were single, so after discussing their plans, they decided they could save money on a trip by going together.
They chose an exotic island getaway and on the way there, they soon discovered all they had in common. After a long flight, they checked into their single bedroom and decided to call it a night.
As they lay in bed, the one girl leaned close to the other, placed her arm around her seductively and said, “I really need to tell you Something and I’m going to be frank..”
Suddenly, the other girl rose up and said, “NO, I want to be Frank!”
Susie's husband had been slipping in and out of a coma for several months. Things looked grim, but she was by his bedside every single day. One day as he slipped back into consciousness, he motioned for her to come close to him. She pulled the chair close to the bed and leaned her ear close to be able to hear him.
"You know" he whispered, his eyes filling with tears, "you have been with me through all the bad times. When I got fired, you stuck right beside me. When my business went under, there you were. When we lost the house, you were there. When I got shot, you stuck with me. When my health started failing, you were still by my side. "And you know what?"
"What, dear?" she asked gently, smiling to herself.
"I think you're bad luck."
You ever notice, in every single cop movie, like halfway through the movie, there's always this scene where the main dude, the cop, will get shot, and then he'll fall, like, 10 stories out of a building, and then he'll be, like, 'Ugh, I'm gettin' too old for this'? And I'm like, was there a time where that was OK? I think that's bad at any point in your life. Has anybody ever been shot and been like, 'Oh my god! I'm exactly the right age for this.'
Tired of being broke and stuck in an unhappy marriage, a young husband decides to solve both problems by taking out a large insurance policy on his wife, with himself as beneficiary, and arranging to have her killed.
A "friend of a friend" put him in touch with a nefarious underworld figure that went by the name of "Artie." Artie explained to the husband that his going price for snuffing out a spouse was $5,000.
The husband said he was willing to pay that amount but he wouldn't have any cash on hand until he could collect his wife's insurance money. Artie insisted on being paid something up front. The man opened up his wallet, displaying a single dollar bill that rested inside.
Artie sighed, rolled his eyes, and reluctantly agreed to accept the dollar as down payment for the dirтy deed.
A few days later, Artie followed the man's wife into the local Safeway grocery store. There he surprised her in the produce department and proceeded to strangle her with his gloved hands. As the poor unsuspecting woman drew her last breath and slumped to the floor, the manager of the produce department stumbled onto the scene.
Unwilling to leave any witnesses behind, Artie had no choice but to strangle the produce manager as well. Unknown to Artie, the entire proceedings was captured by hidden cameras and observed by the store's security guard, who immediately called the police.
Artie was caught and arrested before he could leave the store.
Under intense questioning at the police station, Artie revealed the sordid plan, including his financial arrangements with the hapless husband. And that is why the next day in the newspaper, the headlines declared:
"Artie chokes two for a dollar at safeway"