Three old women in a diner are discussing their health. One says: "You know, I'm getting really forgetful. This morning I was standing at the top of the stairs and I couldn't remember whether I had just come up or was about to go down."The second old dear says: "You think that's bad? The other day I was sitting on the edge of my bed and I couldn't remember whether I was going to sleep or had just woken up!"
The third lady smiles smugly: "Well, my memory is just as good as it's always been, knock on wood." Then with a startled look on her face, she asks: "Who's there?"
Seven signs that Winnie The Pooh characters are on drugs:
1. Eeyore the donkey doesn't care about anything, has slow reactions and lacks motivation - marijuana;
2. Piglet is afraid of everything and is paranoid of constantly being chased - magic mushrooms;
3. Rabbit gets into everyone's business and is constantly on the go - cocaine;
4. Christopher Robin talks to animals - mescaline;
5. Tigger is seldom calm, bouncing around all the time without getting tired - ecstasy;
6. Pooh Bear loves sweets and has a wild imagination - LSD;
7. Owl is always there to help anyone who needs it - dealer.
A sheriff is looking for a deputy and a blonde goes for an interview.
"Okay, honey," the sheriff drawls, "What is one and one?"
"Eleven," she replies.
The sheriff thinks : "That's not what I meant, but she's right."
Then he asks: "What two days of the week start with the letter T?"
"Today and tomorrow," the woman replies.
He is again surprised that the blonde supplies a correct answer he never thought of.
"Now, listen carefully, who killed Abraham Lincoln? " asks the sheriff.
The blonde looks surprised and after thinking really hard finally admits: "I don't know."
The sheriff replies: "Well, why don't you go and work on that one for a while?"
The woman scampers over to the beauty parlour where her buddies are waiting breathlessly to hear how her interview went.
The blonde is overjoyed: "It went great. First day on the job and I'm already working on a murder case!"
An Irish girl a year. On her return her father reproaches her: "Where have you been all this time? Why didn't you write to us, not even a line? Why didn't you call? Can't you understand what you put your old mother through?"
The girl replies, sobbing: " Dad, I became a prostitute."
" What," yells her father. "Out of here, you shameless harlot! Sinner! You're a disgrace to this good Catholic family."
"Okay dad, as you wish," his daughter sniffs. "I just came back to give mum this luxurious fur coat, title deed to a 10-bedroom mansion, plus a à5m savings certificate.
"For my little brother, this gold Rolex and for you, daddy, the shiny new Mercedes limited-edition convertible that's parked outside, plus life membership to the country club."
Her father, taken aback, asks: "Now, what was it you said you had become?"
"A prostitute, daddy," she sobs.
"Oh, my," he exclaims. "You scared me half to death, girl. I thought you said a protestant. Come here and give your old dad a hug."
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