
Beer Anyone?
Gotta love those Germans!
I don’t care what kind of beer it is,
it ain’t gonna taste the same served this way!!
Sort of gives a whole new meaning to getting pissed….
A woman walks into the local Welfare office, trailed by 15 kids…
‘WOW,’ the social worker exclaims, ‘Are they ALL yours?’
‘Yeah they are all mine,’ the flustered mother sighs, having heard that question a thousand times before.
She says, ‘Sit down Terry.’ All the children rush to find seats.
‘Well,’ says the social worker, ‘then you must be here to sign up. I’ll need all your children’s names.’
‘This one’s my oldest – he is Terry.’
‘OK, and who’s next?’
‘Well, this one he is Terry, also.’
The social worker raises an eyebrow but continues. One by one, through the oldest four, all boys, all named Terry.
Then she is introduced to the eldest girl, named Terri.
‘All right,’ says the caseworker. ‘I’m seeing a pattern here. Are they ALL named Terri?’
Their Mother replied, ‘Well, yes-it makes it easier. When it is time to get them out of bed and ready for school, I yell, ‘Terry!’ An’ when it’s time for dinner, I just yell ‘Terry!’ an’ they all come runnin.’ An’ if I need to stop the kid who’s running into the street, I just yell ‘Terry’ and all of them stop. It’s the smartest idea I ever had, namin’ them all Terry.’
The social worker thinks this over for a bit, then wrinkles her forehead and says tentatively, ‘But what if you just want ONE kid to come, and not the whole bunch
‘I call them by their surnames!’
New Technology = Massive Potential Earnings…
Many people are finding it tough to make money online now – much tougher than in the past.
But with the advent of new technology – cell phones and other mobile devices – a whole NEW market has opened up for Internet marketers…
Mobile Marketing for offline businesses!
There is a massive market out there of companies who need the information you can provide and it’s up to you to give it to them using the knowledge contained in the Local Mobile Blueprint program.
The Local Mobile Blueprint program has been designed to help you profit from selling mobile marketing services to offline companies…
It’s a complete step by step guide that shows you many different techniques you can use to help these companies and get paid a decent fee at the same time.
People often get confused and mistake the meaning of the word “Marketing.”
It seems that it is either too complex or too boring for people to remember.
Here’s a very simple way to get your arms around it.
1. You’re a woman and you see a handsome guy at a party. You go up to him and say, “I’m fantastic in bed.” That’s Direct Marketing.
2. You’re a woman at a party with a bunch of friends and see a handsome guy. One of your friends goes up to him and, pointing at you, says, “She’s fantastic in bed.” That’s Advertising.
3. You’re a woman and you see a handsome guy at a party. You go up to him and get his telephone number. The next day you call and say, “Hi, I’m fantastic in bed.” That’s Telemarketing.
4. You’re a woman and you see a guy at a party; you straighten your dress. You walk up to him and pour him a drink. You say, “May I?” and reach up to straighten his tie, brushing your breast lightly against his arm, and then say, “By the way, I’m fantastic in bed.” That’s Public Relations.
5. You’re at a party and see a handsome guy. He walks up to you and says, “I hear you’re fantastic in bed.” That’s Brand Recognition.
6. You’re at a party and see a handsome guy. He fancies you, but you talk him into going home with your friend. That’s a Sales Rep.
7. Your friend can’t satisfy him so he calls you. That’s Tech Support.
8. You’re on your way to a party when you realize that there could be handsome men in all these houses you’re passing, so you climb onto the roof of one of the houses situated in the middle of the complex and shout at the top of your lungs, “I’m fantastic in bed!” That’s Junk Mail.
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9. You like it, but twenty years later your attorney says that you were offended by it, so you sue and you are awarded a big cash settlement.
An Australian Aboriginal picks up a hooker.
‘How much do you charge for da hour, sister?’ he asks. ‘$100,’ she replies.
He says ‘Do you do Aboriginal style?’ ‘No’ she says.
‘I pay you $200 to do it Aboriginal style’
‘No’, she says, not knowing what Aboriginal style is.
‘I pay you $300’
‘No’, she says.
‘I pay you $400’
‘No’, she says.
So finally he says, ‘OK, I pay you $1,000 to do it Aboriginal style..’
She thinks, ‘Well, I’ve been in the game for over 10 years now.
I’ve had every kind of request from weirdos from every part of the world.
How bad could Aboriginal Style be?”.
So she agrees and has sex with him.
They do it in every kind of way and in every possible position.
Finally, after several hours, they finish.
Exhausted, the hooker turns to him and says,
‘Hey, I was expecting something perverted and disgusting.
But that was good. So what exactly is ‘Aboriginal style’?’
The Aboriginal replies ‘You send da bill to da Gub’ment’
Several days ago as I left a meeting, I desperately gave myself a personal TSA pat down. I was looking for my keys. They were not in my pockets. A quick search in the meeting room revealed nothing.
Suddenly I realized, I must have left them in the car.
Frantically, I headed for the parking lot. My wife has scolded me many times for leaving the keys in the ignition. My theory is the ignition is the best place not to lose them. Her theory is that the car will be stolen. As I burst through the doors of the building I was in, I came to a terrifying conclusion. Her theory was right. The parking lot was empty.
I immediately called the police. I gave them my location, confessed that I had left my keys in the car, and that it had been stolen. Then I made the most difficult call of all, “Honey,” I stammered. I always call her “honey” in times like these. “I left my keys in the car, and it has been stolen.”
There was a period of silence. I thought the call had been dropped, but then I heard her voice. “Idiot”, she barked, “I dropped you off!”
Now it was my time to be silent. Embarrassed, I said, “Well, come and get me.” She retorted, “I will, as soon as I convince this policeman I have not stolen your car.”
Yep it’s getting like that. The Golden Years.
I changed my iPod’s name to Titanic. It’s syncing now.
When chemists die, they barium.
Jokes about German sausage are the wurst.
I know a guy who’s addicted to brake fluid. He says he can stop any time.
How does Moses make his tea? Hebrews it.
I stayed up all night to see where the sun went. Then it dawned on me.
This girl said she recognized me from the vegetarian club, but I’d never met herbivore.
I’m reading a book about anti-gravity. I just can’t put it down.
I did a theatrical performance about puns. It was a play on words.
They told me I had type-A blood, but it was a Type-O.
PMS jokes aren’t funny; period.
Why were the Indians here first? They had reservations.
We’re going on a class trip to the Coca-Cola factory. I hope there’s no pop quiz.
I didn’t like my beard at first. Then it grew on me.
Did you hear about the cross-eyed teacher who lost her job because she couldn’t control her pupils?
When you get a bladder infection, urine trouble.
Broken pencils are pointless.
I tried to catch some fog, but I mist.
What do you call a dinosaur with an extensive vocabulary? A thesaurus.
England has no kidney bank, but it does have a Liverpool.
I used to be a banker, but then I lost interest.
I dropped out of communism class because of lousy Marx.
All the toilets in New York’s police stations have been stolen. The police have nothing to go on.
I got a job at a bakery because I kneaded dough.
Haunted French pancakes give me the crêpes.
Velcro — what a rip off!
A cartoonist was found dead in his home. Details are sketchy.
Venison for dinner again? Oh deer!
The earthquake in Washington obviously was the government’s fault.
Two older women were having lunch together, and discussing the merits of cosmetic surgery.
The first woman said, “I need to be honest with you, I’m getting a boob-job.”
The second woman responded, “Oh, that’s nothing. I’m thinking of having my arsehole bleached!”
“Whoa,” replied the first woman.
“I just can’t picture your husband as a blonde!”