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After getting all of Pope Benedict's luggage loaded into the limo (and he doesn't travel light), the driver notices that the Pope is still standing on the curb.
"Excuse me, Your Holiness," says the driver. "Would you please take your seat so we can leave?"
"Well, to tell you the truth," says the Pope, "they never let me drive at the Vatican , and I'd really like to drive today."
"I'm sorry but I cannot let you do that. I'd lose my job! What if something should happen?" protests the driver, wishing he'd never gone to work that morning.
"There might be something extra in it for you," says the Pope.
Reluctantly, the driver gets in the back as the Pope climbs in behind the wheel.
The driver quickly regrets his decision when, after exiting the airport, the Pontiff floors it, accelerating the limo to 170km/h.
"Please slow down, Your Holiness!!!" pleads the worried driver, but the Pope keeps the pedal to the metal until they hear sirens.
"Oh, dear God, I'm gonna lose my licence," moans the driver.
The Pope pulls over and rolls down the window as the cop approaches, but the cop takes one look at him, goes back to his motorcycle, and gets on the radio.
"I need to talk to the chief,' he says to the dispatcher.
The chief gets on the radio and the cop tells him that he's stopped a limo going a hundred and seventy.
"So bust him," says the chief.|
"I don't think we want to do that - he's really important," says the cop.
The chief exclaims: "All the more reason!"
"No, I mean really important," says the cop.
The chief then asks: "Who have you got there, the mayor?"
Cop: "Bigger".
Chief: "State Premier?"
Cop: "Bigger."
"Well," says the chief, "Who is it?"
Cop: "I think it's God!"
Chief: "What makes you think it's God?"
Cop: "Because he's got the Pope as his cheuffeur!"
Two young boys walked into a pharmacy one day, picked out a box of tampons and proceeded to the checkout counter.
The man at the counter asked the older boy: "Son, how old are you?"
"Eight," the boy replied.
The man continued: "Do you know what these are used for?"
The boy replied: "Not exactly, but they aren't for me. They're for him. He's my brother. He's four. We saw on TV that if you use these you would be able to swim and ride a bike. Right now, he can't do either one."
My flight was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a good mood as he served us food and drinks.
As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and told us that "Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he'll be landing the big scary plane shortly, so lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that would be super."
On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed this well-dressed and rather imperious Eastern-looking woman hadn't moved a muscle.
"Perhaps you didn't hear me over those big brute engines, but I asked you to raise your trazy-poo, so the main man can pitty-pat us on the ground," the attendant asked.
She calmly turned her head and said: "In my country, I am called a princess, and I take orders from no one."
To which (I swear) the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat: "Well, sweet-cheeks,in my country I'm called a queen, so I outrank you. Tray up, bitch."
The couple was 85 years old and had been married for 60 years.
Though they were far from rich, they managed to get by because they watched their pennies.
Though not young, they were both in very good health, largely due to the wife's insistence on healthy foods and exercise for the last decade.
One day, their good health didn't help when they went on a rare vacation and their plane crashed, sending them off to heaven.
They reached the pearly gates, and St Peter escorted them inside.
He took them to a beautiful mansion, furnished in gold and fine silks, with a fully stocked kitchen and a waterfall in the master bath.
A maid could be seen hanging their favourite clothes in the closet.
They gasped in astonishment when he said: "Welcome to heaven. This will be your home now."
The old man asked Peter how much all this was going to cost.
"Why, nothing," Peter replied. "Remember, this is your reward in heaven."
The old man looked out the window and right there he saw a championship golf course, finer and more beautiful than any ever built on Earth.
"What are the greens fees?" grumbled the old man.
"This is heaven," St Peter replied. "You can play for free, every day."
Next they went to the clubhouse and saw the lavish buffet lunch, with every imaginable cuisine laid out before them, from seafood to steaks to exotic deserts, free-flowing beverages.
"Don't even ask," said St Peter to the man. "This is Heaven, it is all free for you to enjoy."
The old man looked around and glanced nervously at his wife.
"Well, where are the low-fat and low-cholesterol foods and the decaffeinated tea?" he asked.
"That's the best part," St Peter replied. "You can eat and drink as much as you like of whatever you like and you will never get fat or sick.
"This is heaven!"
The old man pushed the point. "No gym to work out at?"
"Not unless you want to," was the answer.
"No testing my sugar or blood pressure or . . . "
"Never again. All you do here is enjoy yourself,." replied Peter firmly.
The old man glared at his wife and said: "You and your bloody bran muffins!
"We could have been here 10 years ago!"
TERMS ASSOCIATED WITH THE ON-GOING FINANCIAL MELTDOWN Current and correctly explained acronyms . . . CEO: Chief Embezzlement Officer CFO: Corporate Fraud Officer Bull Market: A random market movement causing an investor to mistake himself for a financial genius Bear Market: A six-to-18-month period when the kids get no allowance, the wife gets no jewellery, and the husband gets no sex Value Investing: The art of buying low and selling lower P/E Ratio: The percentage of investors wetting their pants as the market keeps crashing Broker: What my broker has made me Standard and Poor: Your life in a nutshell Stock Analyst: Idiot who just downgraded your stock Stock Split: When your ex-wife and her lawyer split your assets equally between themselves Financial planner: A guy whose phone has just been disconnected Market Correction: The day after you buy stocks Cash Flow: The movement your money makes as it disappears down the toilet Yahoo: What you yell after selling it to some poor sucker for $240 per share Windows: What you jump out of when you're the sucker who bought Yahoo @ $240 per share Institutional Investor: Past year investor who's now locked up in a nuthouse Profit: An archaic word no longer in use
Thought this might be relevant for this time of year...
CAN'T PLEASE EVERYBODY . . .
Date: November 4
From: Steve Reynolds, Human Resources Manager
To: All Employees
Re: Christmas Party
I'm happy to inform you that the company Christmas party will take place on December 23rd, starting at noon in the private function room at the Grill House. There will be a cash bar and plenty of drinks! We'll have a small band playing traditional carols . . . please feel free to sing along.
don't be surprised if the managing director shows up dressed as Santa Claus! A Christmas tree will be lit at 1pm. Exchange of gifts among employees can be done at that time; however, no gift should be more than $10 to make the giving of gifts easy for everyone's pockets.
This gathering is only for employees! The managing director will make a special announcement at the party.
Merry Christmas to you and your family.
Steve
Date: November 5 From: Steve Reynolds, Human Resources Manager To: All Employees Re: Holiday Party
In no way was yesterday's memo intended to exclude our Jewish employees. We recognise that Chanukah is an important holiday, which often coincides with Christmas, though unfortunately not this year. However, from now on we're calling it our `Holiday Party'.
The same policy applies to any other employees who are not Christians. There will be no Christmas tree or Christmas carols sung. We will have other types of music for your enjoyment.
Happy now?
Happy Holidays to you and your family,
Steve.
Date: November 6 From: Steve Reynolds, Human Resources Manager To: All Employees Re: Holiday Party
Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous requesting a non-drinking table . . . you didn't sign your name. I'm happy to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table that reads "AA Only", you wouldn't be anonymous anymore!!!! How am I supposed to handle this? Somebody?
Forget about the gift exchange, no gift exchange allowed now since the union officials feel that $10 is too much money, and management believe $10 is a little cheap.
NO GIFT EXCHANGE WILL BE ALLOWED.
Steve.
Date: November 7 From: Steve Reynolds, Human Resources Manager To: All Employees Re: Holiday Party
What a diverse group we are! I had no idea that December 20th begins the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which forbids eating and drinking during daylight hours. There goes the party!
Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon at this time of year does not accommodate our Muslim employees' beliefs - perhaps the Grill House can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the party, or else package everything up for you to take home in a little foil doggy bag. Will that work?
Meanwhile, I've arranged for members of Weight Watchers to sit farthest from the dessert buffet, and pregnant women will get the table closest to the toilets.
Gays are allowed to sit with each other: lesbians do not have to sit with gay men, each will have their own table.
Yes, there will be flower arrangements for the gay men's table, too.
To the person asking permission to cross dress - no cross dressing allowed. And no, no blow-up sheep.
We will have booster seats for short people, and low-fat food will be available for those on a diet.
We cannot control the salt used in the food. We suggest those people with high blood pressure taste the food first.
There will be fresh fruits as dessert for diabetics, and no, the restaurant cannot supply `No Sugar' desserts. Sorry!
Did I miss anything?!?!?!?!?!
Steve. Date: November 8 From: Steve Reynolds, Human Resources Manager To: All F****** Employees Re: The ******** Holiday Party.
Vegetarian pricks - I've had it with you people!!! We're going to keep this party at the Grill House whether you like it or not, so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the `grill of death', as you so quaintly put it.
You'll get your f****** salad bar, including organic tomatoes, but you know tomatoes have feelings too.
They scream when you slice them. I've heard them scream. I'm hearing them scream right NOW!!
Hope you all have a rotten holiday!
The Pr**k from HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Date: November 9 From: Barry Jack - Acting Human Resources Manager Re: Steve Reynolds and Xmas Party
I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing Steve Reynolds a speedy recovery, and I'll continue to forward your cards to him.
In the meantime, management has decided to cancel our Christmas Party and instead, give everyone the afternoon of December 23 off with full pay.
LIKE SQUID . . . Deep in the back woods, of Letcher County Kentucky, a hillbilly's wife went into labour in the middle of the night and the doctor was called out to assist in the delivery.
Since there was no electricity, the doctor handed the father-to-be a lantern and said: "Here. You hold this high so I can see what I am doing!"
Soon, a baby boy was brought into the world.
"Whoa there," said the doctor, "Don't be in such a rush to put that lantern down - I think theres another one coming."
Sure enough, within minutes he had delivered a baby girl.
"Hold that lantern up, don't set it down - there's another one!" said the doctor.
Within a few minutes, he had delivered a third baby.
"No, don't put it down yet - it seems there's yet another one coming!" cried the doctor.
The redneck scratched his head in bewilderment, and asked the doctor . . . "You reckon it might be the light that's attractin' 'em?"
The clergyman asked if anyone in the congregation would like to express
praise for answered prayers.
A lady in the congregation stood and walked to the podium. "I have a praise," she said. "Two months ago, my husband, Jim, had a terrible bicycle wreck, and his scrotum was completely crushed. The pain was excruciating, and the doctors didn't know if they could help him."
You could hear an audible gasp from the men in the congregation as
they imagined the pain that poor Jim experienced.
She continued, "Jim was unable to hold me or the children, and every
move caused him terrible pain. We prayed as the doctors performed a
delicate operation. They were able to piece together the crushed
remnants and wrap wire around his scrotum to hold it in."
Again, the men in the congregation squirmed uncomfortably as they
imagined the horrible surgery performed on Jim.
She continued, "Now, Jim is out of the hospital and the doctors say,
with time, his scrotum should recover completely."
All the men sighed with relief.
The clergyman rose and tentatively asked if anyone else had anything to
say.
A man rose and walked to the podium. "I'm Jim," he said, "and I just want to tell my wife, the word is sternum."
When four of Santa's elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure.
Then Mrs. Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more.
When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where.
Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered.
Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drank all the cider and hidden the liquor. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.
Just then the doorbell rang, and irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said very cheerfully, 'Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you Where would you like me to stick it?'
And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.