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A Cat Owner’s Story Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable
because no matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss
thinks I am lying. On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied
anyway because the truth was too humiliating to reveal. I simply
mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel
up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to
explain the bandage on my crown. In this case, the truth hurt. I mean
it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident
occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife’s wishes to adopt a cute
little kitty. As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower
after breakfast when I heard my wife call out to me from the kitchen.
“Ed!” she hearkened. “The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it.”
“You know where the button is.” I protested through the shower
(pitter-patter). “Reset it yourself!” “I am scared!” She pleaded.
“What if it starts going and sucks me in?” Pause. “C’mon, it’ll only
take a second.” No logical assurance about how a disposal can’t start
itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from
“Big-ol-scary-machinephobia,” a condition brought on by watching too
many Stephen King movies. It is futile to argue or explain, kind of
like Lloyd Bentsen telling Americans they are over-taxed. And if a
poltergeist did, in fact, possess the disposal, and she was ground
into round, I’d have to live with that the rest of my life. So out I
came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about
how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence but it was I who
would suffer. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find
the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck
without warning. Nay, it wasn’t a hexed disposal drawing me into its
gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the
dangling objects she spied between my legs. She (“Buttons” aka “the
Grater”) had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took
the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most
vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged
them with her needle-like claws. Now when men feel pain or even sense
danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all
rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively,
their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising
upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well-trained monk
could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a
kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild
animals are sometimes faced with a “fight or flight” syndrome; men, in
this predicament, choose only the “flight” option. Fleeing straight
up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a
dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never
made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the
impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics
stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics
snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their
hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered. At the
office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept
silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. “What’s the matter, cat
got your tongue?” If they had only known.

Pregnant womans waters break and rushes into hospital to have the baby. After the birth, the midwife sayes ‘I have good news and bad news …’ ‘Tell me the bad news first’ sayes the woman. ‘Its a ginger haired baby’ sayes the midwife. ‘Whats the good news then?’ asks the woman. The midwife replies ‘its dead …’

There was a young man from Kent
Whose tool was exceedingly bent
He put it in double
To save himself trouble
Instead of coming he wen

Heard about the Polish hockey team?
They all drowned in spring training.

One day, the teacher walks into her classroom and announces to the class that on each Friday, she will ask a question to the class and anyone who answers correctly doesn’t have to go to school the following Monday.
On the first Friday, the teacher asks, “How many grains of sand are in the beach?” Needless to say, no one could answer.
The following Friday, the teacher asks the class, “How many stars are in the sky?” and again no one could answer. Frustrated, little Johnny decides that the next Friday, he would somehow answer the question and get a 3 day weekend.
So Thursday night, Johnny takes two ping-pong balls and paints them black. The next day, he brings them to school in a paper bag. At the end of the day, just when the teacher says, “Here’s this week’s question,” Johnny empties the bag to the floor sending the ping-pong balls rolling to the front of the room. Because they are young kids who find any disruption of class amusing, the entire class starts laughing.
The teacher says, ” Okay, who’s the comedian with the black balls?”
Immediately, little Johnny stands up and says, “Bill Cosby, see ya on Tuesday!”



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