A doctor is making his rounds in the hospital when he comes upon a guy with the worst case of sunburn he has ever seen.
The poor guy is burnt raw from head to toe and is in agony.
He says to the doctor, “Is there anything you can give me to ease this terrible pain?”
So the doctor says, “Yes, I’ll prescribe you some Viagra”.
“Viagra?” says the poor guy. “How will that help my sunburn?”.
“It won’t help your sunburn much” says the doctor, “but at least it’ll keep the sheets off it!”
There once was a lady who was tired of living with men who were either physically abusive, ran away from her, or were horrible in bed. So she put an ad in the paper, that was asking for a man who:
A) would treat her nicely
B) wouldn’t run away from her
C) would be good in bed
Three weeks passed, and there was no reply from any man. So she just figured that there wasn’t a man alive who could live up to these expectations, so she just gave up. Then one day she heard the doorbell ring.
She answered it, and there on the front porch was a man in a wheel chair who didn’t have any arms or legs.
The man said, “I’m here about the ad you put in the paper. As you can see, I have no arms so I can’t beat you, and I have no legs so I can’t run away from you.”
The woman replied, ‘Yes, but are you good in bed?’
And the man said with a smirk on his face, “How do you think I rang the doorbell?”
Two Irishmen, Patrick Murphy and Shawn O’Brian grew up together and were lifelong friends. But alas, Patrick developed cancer, and was dying. While on his deathbed, Patrick called to his buddy, Shawn, “O’Brian, come ‘ere. I ‘ave a request for ye.” Shawn walked to his friend’s bedside and kneels.
“Shawny ole boy, we’ve been friends all our lives, and now I’m leaving ‘ere. I ‘ave one last request fir ye to do.”
O’Brian burst into tears, “Anything Patrick, anything ye wish. It’s done.”
“Well, under me bed is a box containing a bottle of the finest whiskey in all of Ireland. Bottled the year I was born it was. After I die, and they plant me in the ground, I want you to pour that fine whiskey over me grave so it might soak into me bones and I’ll be able to enjoy it for all eternity.”
O’Brian was overcome by the beauty and in the true Irish spirit of his friend’s request, he asked, “Aye, tis a fine thing you ask of me, and I will pour the whiskey. But, might I strain it through me kidneys first?”
Dr. Phil was conducting a group therapy session with four young mothers and their small children.
“You all have obsessions,” he observed.
To the first mother, he said, “you are obsessed with eating. You’ve even named your daughter Candy.”
He turned to the second mom. “Your obsession is with money. Again, it manifests itself in your child’s name, Penny.”
He turns to the third mom. “Your obsession is alcohol. This, too, manifests itself in your child’s name, Brandy.”
At this point, the fourth mother gets up takes her little boy by the hand and whispers, “Come on Dick! We’re leaving.”
A successful rancher died and left everything to his devoted wife.
She was a very good-looking woman, and determined to keep the ranch, but knew very little about ranching, so she decided to place an ad in the newspaper for a ranch hand.
Two men applied for the job. One was gay and the other a drunk. She thought long and hard about it, and when no one else applied, she decided to hire the gay guy, figuring it would be safer to have him around the house than the drunk.
He proved to be a hard worker who put in long hours every day and knew a lot about ranching. For weeks the two of them worked and the ranch was doing very well.
Then one day, the rancher’s widow said to the hired hand, “You have done a really good job and the ranch looks great. You should go into town and kick up your heels.” The hired hand readily agreed and went into town one Saturday night.
However, one o’clock came and he didn’t return. Two o’clock and no hired hand. He returned around two-thirty and found the rancher’s widow sitting by the fireplace. She quietly called him over to her.
“Unbutton my blouse and take it off,” she said. Trembling, he did as she directed.
“Now take off my boots.” He did so slowly.
“Now take off my socks.” He did.
“Now take off my skirt.” He did.
“Now take off my bra.” Again with trembling hands he did as he was told.
“Now,” she said, “take off my panties.” He slowly pulled them down and off.
Then she looked at him and said, “Don’t you ever wear my clothes to town again!”
An eminent old man was being interviewed, and was asked if it was correct that he had just celebrated his ninety-ninth birthday.
‘That’s right,’ said the old man. ‘Ninety-nine years old, and I haven’t an enemy in the world. They’re all dead.
‘Well, sir,’ said the interviewer, ‘I hope very much to have the honor of interviewing you on your hundredth birthday.’
The old man looked at the young man closely, and said, ‘I can’t see why you shouldn’t. You look fit and healthy to me!’
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