A little girl was out with her Grandmother when they came across a couple of dogs mating on the sidewalk.”What are they doing, Grandma?” asked the little girl.
The grandmother was embarrassed, so she said, “The dog on top has hurt his paw, and the one underneath is carrying him to the doctor.”
“They’re just like people, aren’t they Grandma?” said the little one.
“How do you mean?” asked the Grandma.
“Offer someone a helping hand,” said the little girl,”and they screw you every time!”
Because I’m a man, when I lock my keys in the car, I will fiddle with a wire clothes hanger and ignore your suggestions that we call a road service until long after hypothermia has set in.
Because I’m a man, when the car isn’t running very well, I will pop the hood and stare at the engine as if I know what I’m looking at. If another man shows up, one of us will say to the other, “I used to be able to fix these things, but now with all these computers and everything, I wouldn’t know where to start.” We will then drink beer.
Because I’m a man, when I catch a cold, I need someone to bring me soup and take care of me while I lie in bed and moan. You never get as sick as I do, so for you this isn’t a problem.
Because I’m a man, when one of our appliances stops working, I will insist on taking it apart, despite evidence that this will just cost me twice as much once the repair person gets here and has to put it back together.
Because I’m a man, I must hold the television remote control in my hand while I watch TV. If the thing has been misplaced, I may miss a whole show looking for it (though one time I was able to survive by holding a calculator).
Because I’m a man, I don’t think we’re all that lost, and no, I don’t think we should stop and ask someone. Why would you listen to a complete stranger? I mean, how the hell could he know where we’re going anyway?
Because I’m a man, there is no need to ask me what I’m thinking about. The answer is always either sex or sports. I have to make up something else when you ask, so don’t bother to ask me
Because I’m a man, you don’t have to ask me if I liked the movie. Chances are, if you cried at the end of it, I didn’t.
Because I’m a man, I think what you’re wearing is fine. I thought what you were wearing five minutes ago was fine, too. Either pair of shoes is fine. With the belt or without it — looks fine. Your hair is fine. You look fine. Can we just go now?
Because I’m a man, and this is, after all, the year 2001, I will share equally in the housework. You just do the laundry, the cooking, the gardening, the cleaning, the vacuuming, the shopping and the dishes, and I’ll do the rest.
This is so true! They always ask at the doctor’s office why you are there, and you have to answer in front of others what’s wrong and sometimes it is embarrassing.
There’s nothing worse than a Doctor’s Receptionist who insists you tell her what is wrong with you in a room full of other patients.
I know most of us have experienced this, and I love the way this old guy handled it.
A 65-year-old man walked into a crowded waiting room and approached the desk.
The Receptionist said, ‘Yes sir, what are you seeing the Doctor for today?’
‘There’s something wrong with my dick’, he replied.
The receptionist became irritated and said, ‘You shouldn’t come into a crowded waiting room and say things like that. ‘
‘Why not, you asked me what was wrong and I told you,’ he said.
The Receptionist replied; ‘Now you’ve caused some embarrassment in this room full of people. You should have said there is something wrong with your ear or something and discussed the problem further with the Doctor in private.’
The man replied, ‘You shouldn’t ask people questions in a roomful of strangers, if the answer could embarrass anyone.
The man walked out, waited several minutes, and then re-entered.
The Receptionist smiled smugly and asked, ‘Yes??’
‘There’s something wrong with my ear,’ he stated.
The Receptionist nodded approvingly and smiled, knowing he had taken her advice.. ‘And what is wrong with your ear, Sir?’
‘I can’t piss out of it,’ he replied.
The waiting room erupted in laughter…
Mess with seniors and you’re going to Lose.
A man walked into a bar and ordered a glass of white wine. He took a sip of the wine, then tossed the remainder into the bartender’s face. Before the bartender could recover from the surprise, the man began weeping.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I keep doing that to bartenders. I can’t tell you how embarrassing it is to have a compulsion like this.”
Far from being angry, the bartender was sympathetic. Before long, he was suggesting that the man see an analyst about his problem.
“I happen to have the name of a Psychoanalyst,” the bartender said. “My brother and my wife have both been treated by him, and they say he’s as good as they get.”
The man wrote down the name of the Doctor, thanked the bartender, and left. The bartender smiled, knowing he’d done a good deed for a fellow human being.
Six months later, the man was back. “Did you do what I suggested?” the bartender asked, serving the glass of white wine.
“I certainly did,” the man said. “I’ve been seeing the Psychoanalyst twice a week.” He took a sip of the wine. Then he threw the remainder into the bartender’s face.
The flustered bartender wiped his face with a towel. “The Doctor doesn’t seem to be doing you any good.” He sputtered.
“On the contrary,” the man claimed, “he’s done me world of good.”
“But you threw the wine in my face again!” The bartender exclaimed.
“Yes,” the man replied. “But it doesn’t embarrass me anymore.”
A young woman went to her doctor complaining of pain.
“Where are you hurting?” asked the doctor.
“You have to help me, I hurt all over”, said the woman.
“What do you mean, all over?” asked the doctor, “be a little more specific.”
The woman touched her right knee with her index finger and yelled, “Ow, that hurts.” Then she touched her left cheek and again yelled, “Ouch! That hurts, too.” Then she touched her right earlobe, “Ow, even THAT hurts”, she cried.
The doctor checked her thoughtfully for a moment and told her his diagnosis, “You have a broken finger.”
A married couple went to the hospital together to have their baby delivered.
Upon their arrival, the doctor said he had invented a machine which would transfer a portion of the mother’s labour pain to the father. He asked if they were willing to try it out, and they both agreed enthusiastically.
The doctor set the knob to 10 percent for starters, explaining that even 10 percent was probably more pain than the father had ever experienced before.
But as the labour progressed, the husband felt fine, so he asked the doctor to go ahead and bump it up a notch.
The doctor then adjusted the machine to 20 percent pain transfer. The husband was still feeling fine, so the doctor upped the percentage to 50% and finally 100%, since the wife was obviously benefiting from the transfer.
The wife delivered a healthy baby with virtually no pain. She and her husband were ecstatic.
When they got home, the mailman was dead on their porch.
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