Daily Joke: Jokes Library

The very snobbish wife was discussing the subject of Christmas presents with her maid.

“Now what about the butler” the rich woman said?

“A set of wine glasses” the maid suggested?

The woman frowned icily.

“He doesn’t really need that. A butler never entertains. He’ll get a tie”.

The maid grimaced, but said only, “What about a dress for Jenny, the serving girl”?

The woman frowned again. “She doesn’t really need a new dress. She’ll only get in trouble. We’ll get her another apron”.

The conversation continued in the same vein, and the maid was chafing at her employer’s arrogance when they reached her husband.

“I assume you want to get him something he really needs, madam”? the maid replied.

“Of course”, the woman replied.

“Then what about three more inches”? said the maid.

A young innocent girl is about to go on her 1st date
and is given some word of advise and warning by her mother;
“Look darling, they all want the same, so do be very careful
and don’t you ever let him;
1.) kiss your lips.
Your lips are as soft as rose petals and will shrivel,
2.) or touch your breast.
They are like of thin crystal and can shatter, and
3.) never ever to touch your “private” part.
That one is like a “GRILL” and will burn everything coming
to touch it.”
The girl is off full of excitement and anxiety, and Mom waits
and waits until just after midnight when she’s back.
“How was it?” asks mom.
“Oh mom, it was absolutely fantastic, and I think I’m in love!”
“Lets not go too fast dear.
And did he tried to come too close?”
“Well, yes, he did and I did as you said and he was absolutely
careful not to hurt or harm me!”
“What do you mean careful, did you let him do something?”
“Not exactly mom, see it was like that.
First he wanted to kiss me and I told him what you said,
and he stopped.
Then he went to touch my breast and again I told him what
you said, and he stopped.
Then he slowly went under my skirt close to the private part,
and I told him what you said, and he then took his hands
out and said; “What a coincidence, I happen to have a nice piece of
“Fillet” and would love to put it in your “Grill” to cook!!”
“WHAT?!?” screams the mother,
“I knew that bastard is no different to the others.
You hopefully stopped him there too, didn’t you?”
“Well, not really mom.
You see, he promised to be careful and was very careful not to
“burn” his fillet.
Every now and then he took it out and had me “taste it”
to see if it was cooked or not.”

Three women were talking about their love lives.

The first said, “My husband is like a Rolls-Royce;  smooth and sophisticated.”

The second said, “Mine is like a Porsche; fast and powerful.”

The third said, “Mine is like an old Chevy.

It needs a hand start and I have to jump on while it’s still going.”

An engineering student found a frog on his way to class.

“If you kiss me, I’ll turn into a beautiful princess” the frog said.

The student smiled, thought for a minute, and put the frog in his bag and kept walking.

After a few minutes, he heard the frog calling out again, so he took it out.

“If you kiss me, I’ll turn into a beautiful princess and go out on a date with you!”

The student smiled, put it back in his bag, and kept walking.

After a few minutes, he heard the frog calling out again, so he took it out.

“If you kiss me, I’ll turn into a princess, go out on multiple dates with you, introduce you to my parents, who knows what will happen after that!”

He smiled and started to put it back in his bag.

“WAIT! Why won’t you kiss me!?”

“Well, I’m incredibly busy with school right now, so I don’t have time for a girlfriend. However, a talking frog is really cool.”

The 76-year-old woman walked down the hallway of Clearview Addictions Clinic, searching for the right department. She passed signs for the “Heroin Addiction Department (HAD),” the “Smoking Addiction Department (SAD)” and the “Bingo Addiction Department (BAD).” Then she spotted the department she was looking for: “Facebook Addiction Department (FAD).”

It was the busiest department in the clinic, with about three dozen people filling the waiting room, most of them staring blankly into their Blackberries and iPhones. A middle-aged man with unkempt hair was pacing the room, muttering,”I need to milk my cows. I need to milk my cows.”

A twenty-something man was prone on the floor, his face buried in his hands, while a curly-haired woman comforted him.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be all right.”

“I just don’t understand it. I thought my update was LOL-worthy, but none of my friends even clicked the ‘like’ button.”

“How long has it been?”

“Almost five minutes. That’s like five months in the real world.”

The 76-year-old woman waited until her name was called, then followed the receptionist into the office of Alfred Zulu, Facebook Addiction Counselor.

“Please have a seat, Edna,” he said with a warm smile. “And tell me how it all started.”

“Well, it’s all my grandson’s fault. He sent me an invitation to join Facebook. I had never heard of Facebook before, but I thought it was something for me, because I usually have my face in a book.”

“How soon were you hooked?”

“Faster than you can say ‘create a profile.’ I found myself on Facebook at least eight times each day — and more times at night. Sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night to check it, just in case there was an update from one of my new friends in India . My husband didn’t like that. He said that friendship is a precious thing and should never be outsourced.”

“What do you like most about Facebook?”

“It makes me feel like I have a life. In the real world, I have only five or six friends, but on Facebook, I have 674. I’m even friends with Juan Carlos Montoya.”

“Who’s he?”

“I don’t know, but he’s got 4,000 friends, so he must be famous.”

“Facebook has helped you make some connections, I see.”

“Oh yes. I’ve even connected with some of the gals from high school — I still call them ‘gals.’ I hadn’t heard from some of them in ages, so it was exciting to look at their profiles and figure out who’s retired, who’s still working, and who’s had some work done. I love browsing their photos and reading their updates. I know where they’ve been on vacation, which movies they’ve watched, and whether they hang their toilet paper over or under. I’ve also been playing a game with some of them.”

“Let me guess. Farmville?”

“No, Mafia Wars. I’m a Hitman. No one messes with Edna.”

“Wouldn’t you rather meet some of your friends in person?”
“No, not really. It’s so much easier on Facebook. We don’t need to gussy ourselves up. We don’t need to take baths or wear perfume or use mouthwash. That’s the best thing about Facebook — you can’t smell anyone. Everyone is attractive, because everyone has picked a good profile pic. One of the gals is using a profile pic that was taken, I’m pretty certain, during the Eisenhower Administration.”

“What pic are you using?”

“Well, I spent five hours searching for a profile pic, but couldn’t find one I really liked. So I decided to visit the local beauty salon.”

“To make yourself look prettier?”

“No, to take a pic of one of the young ladies there. That’s what I’m using.”

“Didn’t your friends notice that you look different?”

“Some of them did, but I just told them I’ve been doing lots of yoga.”

“When did you realize that your Facebooking might be a problem?”

“I realized it last Sunday night, when I was on Facebook and saw a message on my wall from my husband: ‘I moved out of the house five days ago. Just thought you should know.'”

“What did you do?”

“What else? I unfriended him of course!”