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A man was getting a haircut prior to a trip to Rome. He mentioned the trip to the barber who responded, “Rome? Why would anyone want to go there?

It’s crowded & dirty and full of Italians. You’re crazy to go to Rome.

So, how are you getting there?”

“We’re taking TWA,” was the reply. “We got a great rate!”

“TWA?” exclaimed the barber. “That’s a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they’re always late.

So, where are you staying in Rome?”

“We’ll be at the downtown International Marriott.”

“That dump! That’s the worst hotel in the city. The rooms are small, the service is surly and they’re overpriced. So, whatcha doing when you get there?”

“We’re going to go to see the Vatican and we hope to see the Pope.”

“That’s rich,” laughed the barber. “You and a million other people trying to see him. He’ll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You’re going to need it.”

A month later, the man again came in for his regular haircut. The barber asked him about his trip to Rome.

“It was wonderful,” explained the man, “not only were we on time in one of TWA’s brand new planes, but it was overbooked and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a beautiful 28 year old stewardess who waited on me hand and foot.

And the hotel-it was great! They’d just finished a $25 million remodeling job and now it’s the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us the presidential suite at no extra charge!”

“Well,” muttered the barber, “I know you didn’t get to see the pope.”

“Actually, we were quite lucky, for as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the pope likes to personally meet some of the visitors, and if I’d be so kind as to step into his private room and wait the pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, five minutes later the pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down as he spoke a few words to me.”

“Really?” asked the Barber. “What’d he say?”

He said, “Where’d you get the lousy haircut?

What do you see when the pillsbary dough boy bends over?

November 30, 1995


Dear Mrs. Smith,

We wish to thank you for your letter and the polaroid picture
of your husband. We agree that his appearance in our March issue as
the Playgirl’s “Man of the Month” centerfold would have been a truly
fitting way for you to honor your 75th anniversary of wedded bliss,
and as a life-time memento on his birthday.

We submitted the picture to our various panels of judges, as
it is our routine procedure, with the following results:

When rated by our panel of average American women (ages 25 to
40) on a scale from 1 to 10 (10 being the highest), his body was rated
a -2.

To further justify our ratings, we submitted your photograph
to another panel of women in the age bracket of 45 to 100. We couldn’t
get them to stop laughing long enough to take the time to rate him.

The old American women panel, aged 70 to 100, widowed for over
twenty years, said “We’ll retain our widowed status!”

The Organization of Nude Portrait Painters (thinking perhaps
they could touch up the picture), said “We can’t perform miracles!”

We therefore regret that we will not be able to satisfy your
request for John on his 75th wedding anniversary. We do, however,
invite you to submit other pictures for Playgirl’s centerfold. Please
be advised that the minimum requirement is that the staple used to
hold the centerfold in place in the magazine cannot completely
obliterate what we refer to as “the item of interest” as it would in
John’s case.

Yours truly,

Jane Brown
Playgirl, Inc.

An American, a Scot and a Canadian were in a terrible car accident. They
were all brought to the same emergency room, but all three of them died
before they arrived. Just as they were about to put the toe tag on the
American, he stirred and opened his eyes. Astonished, the doctors and
nurses present asked him what happened. “Well, ” said the American, “I
remember the crash, and then there was a beautiful light, and then the
Canadian and the Scot and I were standing at the gates of heaven. St. Peter
approached us and said that we were
all too young to die, and that for a donation of $50, we could return to the
earth. So of course I pulled out my wallet and gave him the $50, and the
next thing I knew I was back here.” “That’s amazing!” said one of the
doctors, “But what happened to the other two?” “Last I saw them,” replied
the American, “the Scot was haggling over the price and the Canadian was
waiting for the government to pay for his.”

A black couple we’re invited to a Halloween party and were trying to decide what to dress up as.
The wife says, “how about Hanzel and Gretel?”
Nah…they were white, her husband replied.
Ok, how about Raggedy Ann and Andy?
No way! They’re white too and have huge ugly freckles!
So the wife tells her husband to think of something since he always has a smart remark for her choices.
So he thinks a bit and then pops up – ” I got it! “.
We’ll go as Heshey Bars!
“Heshey bars?” replies his wife…”are you nuts!”
Exactly! One with nuts, and one without!

© 2015