Daily Joke: Jokes Library

A woman decided to have a facelift for her 50th birthday. She spent $5,000 and felt pretty good about the results. On her way home, she stopped at a news stand to buy a newspaper. Before leaving she said to the clerk:

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but how old do you think I am?”

“About 32,” was the reply.

“Nope! I’m exactly 50,” the woman said happily.

A little while later she went into McDonald’s and asked the counter girl the very same question.

The girl said, “I guess about 29.”

The woman replied, “Nope I’m 50.”

Now she was feeling really good about herself. She stopped in a drug store on her way down the street. She went up to the counter to get some mints and asked the clerk this burning question.

The clerk responded, “Oh, I’d say 30.”

Again she proudly responded, “I am 50, but thank you!”

While waiting for the bus to go home, she asked an old man waiting next to her the same question.

He replied, “Lady, I’m 78 and my eyesight is going…

“Although, when I was young, there was a sure way to tell how old a woman was. It sounds very forward, but it requires you to let me put my hands under your bra. Then, and only then, can I tell you EXACTLY how old you are.”

They waited in silence on the empty street until curiosity got the best of her.

She finally blurted out, “What the hell! Go ahead.”

He slipped both of his hands under her bra and began to feel around very slowly and carefully. He bounced and weighed each one of her bosoms. He gently pinched them as well. He pushed her assets together and rubbed them against each other.

After a couple of minutes of this, she said, “Okay, okay…How old am I?”

He completed one last squeeze, removed his hands, and said, “Madam, you are 50.”

Stunned and amazed, the woman said, “That was incredible! How could you tell??”

“I was behind you in line at McDonald’s.”

The inventor of the Harley-Davidson motorcycle, Arthur Davidson, died and went to heaven.

At the pearly gates, St. Peter told Arthur, “Since you’ve been such a good man and your motorcycles have changed the world, your reward is, you can hang out with anyone you want in Heaven.”

Arthur thought about this for a minute and then said, “I want to hang out with God.”

St. Peter took Arthur to the Throne Room and introduced him to God.

God recognized Arthur and commented, “Okay, so you were the one who invented the Harley Davidson motorcycle?”

Arthur said, “Yep, that’s me.”

God said, “Well, what’s the big deal in inventing something that’s pretty unstable, makes noise and pollution, and can’t run without a road?”

Arthur was apparently embarrassed, but finally he said, “Excuse me, but aren’t you the inventor of woman?

God said, “Yes.”

“Well,” said Arthur, “professional to professional, you have some major design flaws in your invention too:

1. There’s too much inconsistency in the front-end protrusions;
2. It chatters constantly at high speeds;
3. Most of the rear ends are too soft, and wobble too much;
4. The intake is placed way too close to the exhaust;
5. And the maintenance costs are enormous!”

“Hmmmmm, you have some good points there,” replied God, “hold on.”

God went to His Celestial supercomputer, typed in some key words and waited for the results. The computer printed out a slip of paper and God read it.

“Well, it may be true that my invention is flawed,” God said to Arthur, “but according to these statistics, more men are riding my invention than yours.”

A man owned a small ranch in Montana.

The Montana Work Force Department claimed he was not paying proper wages to his help and sent an agent out to interview him.

“I need a list of your employees and how much you pay them,” demanded the agent.

“Well,” replied the farmer, “there’s my farm hand who’s been with me for 3 years. I pay him $200 a week plus he gets free room and board.”

“The cook has been here for 18 months, and I pay her $150 per week plus free room and board.

“Then there’s the half-wit. He works about 18 hours every day and does about 90% of all the work around here.

“He makes about $10 per week, pays his own room and board, and I buy him a bottle of bourbon every Saturday night.

“He also sleeps with my wife occasionally.”

“That’s the guy I want to talk to…the half-wit,” said the agent.

“That would be me,” replied the rancher.

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 – eyes wide and white as ghosts.

The driver, obviously confused, says to him, “Officer, I don’t understand, I was doing 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?” she asked. 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.

“Oh, they’ll be alright in a minute officer. We just got off Route 119.”

A middle-aged woman seemed sheepish as she visited her gynecologist. “Come now,” coaxed the doctor, “you’ve been seeing me for years! There’s nothing you can’t tell me.”

“This one’s kind of strange…”

“Let me be the judge of that,” the doctor replied.

“Well,” she said, “yesterday I went to the bathroom in the morning and heard a plink-plink-plink in the toilet and when I looked down, the water was full of pennies.”

“I see.”

“That afternoon I went again and there were nickels in the bowl.”

“Uh-huh”

“That night,” she went on, “there were dimes and this morning there were quarters! You’ve got to tell me what’s wrong with me!,” she implored, “I’m scared out of my wits!”

The gynecologist put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “There, there, it’s nothing to be scared about.”

“You’re simply going through the change.”