Dr. Wingnut

A blind man enters a Ladies Bar by mistake. He finds his way to a barstool and orders a drink. After sitting there for a while, he yells tothe bartender, "Hey, you wanna hear a blonde joke?"!

Thebar immediately falls absolutely quiet. In a very deep, husky voice, thewoman next to him says, "Before you tell that joke, sir, I think itis just fair – giving that you are blind – that you should know fivethings:

1. The bartender is a blonde girl.
2. The bouncer isa blonde girl.
3. I'm a 6 feet tall, 120 kg blonde woman with ablack belt in karate.
4. The woman sitting next to me is blonde andis a professional weightlifter, and
5. The lady to your right is ablonde and is a professional wrestler.

Now think about itseriously, Mister. Do you still wanna tell that joke?" The blind manthinks for a second, shakes his head, and declares, "Nah… Not ifI'm gonna have to explain it five times."

In the hospital the relatives gathered in the waiting room, where their family member lay gravely ill.

Finally, the doctor came in looking tired and somber.  “I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad news,” he said as he surveyed the worried faces.

“The only hope left for your loved one at this time is a brain transplant.  It’s an experimental procedure, very risky but it is the only hope.”

“Insurance will cover the procedure, but you will have to pay for the brain yourselves.”

The family members sat silent as they absorbed the news.  After a great length of time, someone asked, “Well, how much does a brain cost?”

The doctor quickly responded, “$5,000 for a male brain, and $200 for a female brain.”

The moment turned awkward.  Men in the room tried not to smile, avoiding eye contact with the women, but some actually smirked.  A man, unable to control his curiosity, blurted out the question everyone wanted to ask, “Why is the male brain so much more?”

The doctor smiled at the childish innocence and explained to the entire group, “It’s just standard pricing procedure.  We have to mark down the price of the female brains, because they’ve actually been used.”

All Wal-Mart and K-Mart stores in Iraq will be closing on or before March 15th. After that, they will all become…
Targets.

After a few years of married life, a man finds that he is unable to perform. He goes to his doctor, and his doctor tries a few things but nothing works. Finally the doctor says to him:

"This is all in your mind." and refers him to a psychiatrist.

After a few visits, the shrink confesses: "I am at a loss as to how you could possibly be cured."

Finally the psychiatrist refers him to a witch doctor.

The witch doctor says: "I can cure this."

He throws some powder on a flame, and there is a flash with billowing blue smoke. The witch doctor says: "This is powerful healing, but you can only use it once a year!

All you have to do is say '1-2-3' and it shall rise for as long as you wish!"

The guy then asks the witch doctor: "What happens when it's over?"

The witch doctor says: "All you or your partner has to say is '1-2-3-4' and it will go down. But be warned; it will not work again for a year!"

The guy goes home and that night he is ready to surprise his wife with the good news. So, he is lying in bed with her and says: "1-2-3" and suddenly he gets an erection.

His wife turns over and says: "What did you say '1-2-3' for?"

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved. "I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life."

"No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer.

At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.

"Is that your son?" the nobleman asked.

"Yes," the farmer replied proudly.

"I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of." And that he did.

Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, he graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.

Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia. What saved his life this time? Penicillin.

The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill.

His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.

Someone once said:

What goes around comes around.

Work like you don't need the money.

Love like you've never been hurt.

Dance like nobody's watching.

Sing like nobody's listening.

Live like it's Heaven on Earth.

I cross ocean,
poor and broke,
Take bus,
see employment folk.

Nice man treat me
good in there,
Say I need to
see welfare.

Welfare say,
"You come no more,
We send cash
right to your door."

Welfare checks,
they make you wealthy,
Medicaid it keep
you healthy!

By and by,
I got plenty money,
Thanks to you,
American dummy.

Write to friends
in motherland,
Tell them "come as
fast you can."

They come in turbans
and Ford trucks,
I buy big house
with welfare bucks.

They come here,
we live together,
More welfare checks,
it gets better!

Fourteen families,
they moving in,
But neighbor's patience
wearing thin.

Finally, white guy
moves away,
Now I buy his house,
and then I say,

"Find more aliens
for house to rent."
And in the yard
I put a tent.

Send for family
they just trash,
But they, too,
draw the welfare cash!

Everything is
very good,
And soon we
own the neighborhood.

We have hobby –
it's called breeding,
Welfare pay
for baby feeding.

Kids need dentist?
Wife need pills?
We get free!
We got no bills!

American crazy!
He pay all year,
To keep welfare
running here.

We think America
darn good place!
Too darn good for
the white man race.

If they no like us,
they can scram,
Got lots of room in
Pakistan.

SEND THIS TO EVERY AMERICAN TAXPAYER YOU KNOW.

I’m supposed to walk one-quarter mile two times a day. (I actually do, once and a while)

Last week I walked down to the center of town to get my stroll in and thought I would stop to see Steve the Barber and get a hair cut. (Actually, to get them all cut, while I was there)

I hadn’t been there for a while, as I have been involved with this heart thing.

It was slippery, so I brought my cane and Steve was surprised to see me using it.

"What happened to your leg?"

"Oh, it’s a long story," I said.

"Shoot, we’re all alone here."

"Well, in Dec. of 1999, I had a stroke and it left my left side weakened. And since my last haircut, I had a quadruple heart by-pass and that affected the fine motor dexterity in my left leg so I decided to use the cane for stability. It is only temporary."

"WOW, quadruple by-pass! Jezee, you look great! How many valves?"

"No valves, fortunately, just arteries."

"Wow! Quadruple? How many arteries?"

"They did 4."

"Wow! And how many valves is that?"

"Just plumbing to by-pass 5 clogged arteries and to make sure there is adequate oxygen to the heart muscle."

"Wow! Five clogs. And how many valves did you say?"

"Just five clogs and 4 by-passes." (Steve’s knowledge of the heart seems to be limited.)

"That’s how many valves?" Steve repeated over the drone of the electric clippers.

"At least seven," I finally acquiesced.