An 85-year-old man went to his doctor's office to get a sperm count. The doctor gave the man a jar and said, "Take this jar home and bring back a semen sample tomorrow."
The next day the 85-year-old man reappeared at the doctor's office and gave him the jar, which was as clean and empty as on the previous day. The doctor asked what happened and the man explained: "Well, doc, it is like this - First I tried with my right hand, but nothing. Then I tried with my left hand, but still nothing.
Then I asked my wife for help. She tried with her right hand, then her left, still nothing. She tried with her mouth, first with the teeth in, then with her teeth out, and still nothing. We even called up Arleen, the lady next door and she tried too, first with both hands, then an armpit and she even tried
squeezing it between her knees, but still nothing."
The doctor was shocked! "You asked your neighbor?"
The old man replied, "Yep. And no matter what we tried, we still could not get the jar open."
OH, WHAT A POLLUTED MIND!!!
- just to make every one happy, and also, a great way to start the week!
Sunday, August 22, 2010
H A N D S
As Thanksgiving Day drew near, a class of first-graders were assigned to draw a picture of something to be thankful for. Some drew a house or a car or a turkey or food or toys. But one little boy drew a hand.
Then the class tried to figure out whose hand it was… God’s? The policemen? The farmer’s for growing the food? But no one could guess; and the little boy would not tell.
Then the children all ran outside for recess and the teacher came up to the little boy and asked softly, Whose hand did you draw?” He said, “Yours!”
Tears came to her eyes as she recalled all the times she had used a hand to guide his pencil, or lead him across the street… for he was LAME.
Then the class tried to figure out whose hand it was… God’s? The policemen? The farmer’s for growing the food? But no one could guess; and the little boy would not tell.
Then the children all ran outside for recess and the teacher came up to the little boy and asked softly, Whose hand did you draw?” He said, “Yours!”
Tears came to her eyes as she recalled all the times she had used a hand to guide his pencil, or lead him across the street… for he was LAME.
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