An old man and woman were married for many years, even though they hated each other.
When they had a confrontation, screaming and yelling could be heard deep into the night.
The old man would shout, ‘When I die, I will dig my way up and out of the grave and come back and haunt you for the rest of your life!’
Neighbours feared him.
They believed he practised black magic, because of the many strange occurrences that took place in their neighbourhood.
The old man liked the fact that he was feared. To everyone’s relief, he died of a heart attack when he was 98.
His wife had a closed casket at the wake.
After the burial, she went straight to the local bar and began to party, as if there was no tomorrow.
Her neighbours, concerned for her safety, asked, ‘Aren’t you afraid that he may indeed be able to dig his way up and out of the grave and come back to haunt you for the rest of your life?’
The wife put down her drink and said, ‘Let him dig. I had him buried upside down……’
Bloody women, they think of everything.
A sweet grandmother telephoned St. Joseph ‘s Hospital.
She timidly asked, ‘Is it possible to speak to someone who can tell me how a patient is doing?’
The operator said, I’ll l be glad to help, dear .
What’s the name and room number?’
The grandmother in her weak, tremulous voice said, ‘Norma Findlay Room 302.’
The operator replied, ‘Let me place you on hold while I check with her nurse .
After a few minutes, the operator returned to the phone and said, ‘Oh, I have good news. Her nurse just told me that Norma is doing very well. Her blood pressure is fine; her blood work just came back as normal, and her physician, Dr. Cohen, has scheduled her to be discharged on Tuesday.’
The grandmother said, ‘Thank you. That’s wonderful! I was so worried! God bless you for the good news.’
The operator replied, ‘You’re more than welcome. Is Norma your daughter?’
The grandmother said, ‘No, I’m Norma Findlay in 302. No one tells me shit..’
The doctor said, ‘Joe, the good news is I can cure your headaches. The bad news is that it will require castration.
You have a very rare condition, which causes your testicles to press on your spine and the pressure creates one hell of a headache. The only way to relieve the pressure is to remove the testicles.’
Joe was shocked and depressed. He wondered if he had anything to live for.
He had no choice but to go under the knife. When he left the hospital, he was without a headache for the first time in 20 years, but he felt like he was missing an important part of himself. As he walked down the street, he realized that he felt like a different person. He could make a new beginning and live a new life.
He saw a men’s clothing store and thought, ‘That’s what I need… A new suit.’
He entered the shop and told the salesman, ‘I’d like a new suit.’
The elderly tailor eye d him briefly and said, ‘Let’s see… size 44 long.’
Joe laughed, ‘That’s right, how did you know?’
‘Been in the business 60 years!’ the tailor said.
Joe tried on the suit it fit perfectly.
As Joe admired himself in the mirror, the salesman asked, ‘How about a new shirt?’
Joe thought for a moment and then said, ‘Sure.’
The salesman eyed Joe and said, ‘Let’s see, 34 sleeves and 16-1/2 neck.’
Joe was surprised, ‘That’s right, how did you know?’
‘Been in the business 60 years.’
Joe tried on the shirt and it fit perfectly.
Joe walked comfortably around the shop and the salesman asked, ‘How about some new underwear?’
Joe thought for a moment and said, ‘Sure.’
The salesman said, ‘Let’s see… size 36.
Joe laughed, ‘Ah ha! I got you! I’ve worn a size 34 since I was 18 years old.’
The salesman shook his head, ‘You can’t wear a size 34. A size 34 would press your testicles up against the base of your spine and give you one hell of a headache.’
We started to ‘bud’ in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to find that anything that came in contact with those tender, blooming buds hurt so bad it brought us to tears. So came the ridiculously uncomfortable training bra contraption that the boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our backs.
Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with those budding boobs, we bloated, we cramped, we got the hormone crankies, had to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn’t even know we had.
Our next little rite of passage was having sex for the first time which was about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils (IF he did it right and didn’t end up with his little cart before his horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.
Then it was off to Motherhood where we learned to live on dry crackers and water for a few months so we didn’t spend the entire day leaning over Brother John . Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learned to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards night and day making us wonder if we were preparing to have Rosemary’s Baby.
Our once flat bellies looked like we swallowed a whole watermelon and we pee’d our pants every time we sneezed. When the big moment arrived, the dam in our blessed Nether Regions invariably burst right in the middle of the mall and we had to waddle, with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain all the way to the ER.
Then it was huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says, ‘Please stop screaming, Mrs. Hearmeroar . Calm down and push. ‘Just one more good push’ (more like 10), warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the
%$#*@*#!* hubby and doctor square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10 pound bowling ball through a keyhole.
After that, it was time to raise those angels only to find that when all that ‘cute’ wears off, the beautiful little darlings morphed into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.
Then come their ‘Teen Years.’ Need I say more?
When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious sexual prime in our early 40′s – while hubby had his somewhere around his 18th birthday.
So we progress into the grand finale: ‘The Menopause,’ the Grandmother of all womanhood. It’s either take HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned ‘buds’ or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or, sweat like a hog in July, wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.
Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men, when men get off so easy, INCLUDING the icing on life’s cake: Being able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks…
So, while I love being a woman, ‘Womanhood’ would make the Great Gandhi a tad crabby. You think women are the ‘weaker sex?’ Yeah right. Bite me.
PARENT- Job Description
Mum, Mummy, Mama, Ma
Dad, Daddy, Dada, Pa, Pop
JOB DESCRIPTION :
Long term, team players needed, for challenging, permanent work in an
often chaotic environment.
Candidates must possess excellent communication and organizational skills and be willing to work variable hours, which will include evenings and weekends and frequent 24 hour shifts on call.
Some overnight travel required, including trips to primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and endless sports
tournaments in far away cities!
Travel expenses not reimbursed.
Extensive courier duties also required.
The rest of your life.
Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily, until someone needs $5.
Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly.
Also, must possess the physical stamina of a pack mule and be able to go from zero to 100 kmph in three seconds flat in case, this time, the screams from the backyard are not someone just crying wolf.
Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges, such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets and stuck zippers.
Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and coordinate production of multiple homework projects.
Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings for clients of all ages and mental outlooks.
Must be a willing to be indispensable one minute, an embarrassment the next.
Must handle assembly and product safety testing of a half million cheap, plastic toys, and battery operated devices.
Must always hope for the best but be prepared for the worst.
Must assume final, complete accountability for the quality of the end product.
Responsibilities also include floor maintenance and janitorial work throughout the facility.
POSSIBILITY FOR ADVANCEMENT & PROMOTION :
Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills, so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you
PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE :
None required unfortunately.
On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.
WAGES AND COMPENSATION :
Get this! You pay them!
Offering frequent raises and bonuses.
A balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because of the assumption that college will help them become financially independent.
When you die, you give them whatever is left.
The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that you actually enjoy it and wish you could only do more..
While no health or dental insurance, no pension, no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and
no stock options are offered; this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth, unconditional love, and free hugs and kisses for life if you play your cards right.
** AND A FOOTNOTE ‘THERE IS NO RETIREMENT –