“Of course, child. What may I do for you?”

“Well, I bought an expensive electronic hair dryer for my mother’s birthday that is unopened and well over the Customs limits. I’m afraid they’ll confiscate it. Is there any way you could carry it through Customs for me…under your robe, perhaps?”

“I would love to help you, dear, but I must warn you… I will not lie.”

“With your honest face, Father, no one will question you.”

When they got to Customs, the woman let the priest go ahead of her. The official asked, “Father, do you have anything to declare?”

“From the top of my head down to my waist, I have nothing to declare.”

The official thought this answer strange, so asked,

“And what do you have to declare from your waist to the floor?”

“I have a marvelous instrument designed to be used on a woman, but which is, to date…unused.”

Roaring with laughter, the official said, “Go ahead, Father. Next!”

The cowboy took a place next to the old-timer, bought him a drink and told him of his great ambition to be a great shot…

‘Could you give me some tips?’ he asked.

The old man said, ‘Well, for one thing, you’re wearing your gun too high -  tie the holster a little lower down on your leg.’

‘Will that make me a better gunfighter?’

‘Sure will ‘

The young man did as he was told, stood up, whipped out his ..44 and shot the bow tie off the piano player.

‘That’s terrific!’ said the cowboy.  ‘Got any more tips?’

‘Yep,’ said the old man. ‘Cut a notch out of your holster where the hammer hits it – that’ll give you a smoother draw’

‘Will that make me a better gunfighter?’ asked the young man.

‘You bet it will,’ said the old-timer.

The young man took out his knife, cut the notch, stood up, drew his gun in a blur, and then shot a cufflink off the piano player.

‘Wow!’ exclaimed the cowboy ‘I’m learnin’ somethin’ here.  Got any more tips?’

The old man pointed to a large can in a corner of the saloon.  ‘See that axle grease over there? Coat your gun with it.’

The young man smeared some of the grease on the barrel of his gun.

‘No,’ said the old-timer, ‘I mean smear it all over the gun, handle and all.’

‘Will that make me a better gunfighter?’ asked the young man.

‘No,’ said the old-timer, ‘but when Wyatt Earp gets done playing the piano, he’s gonna shove that gun up your ass and it won’t hurt as much.

The 2nd kind of sex is called: Kitchen Sex. This is when you have been with your partner for a short time, and you are so needy you will have sex anywhere, even in the kitchen.

The 3rd kind of sex is called: Bedroom Sex.  This is when you have been with your partner for a long time. Your sex has gotten routine, and you usually have sex only in your bedroom.

The 4th kind of sex is called: Hallway Sex This is when you have been with your partner for too long. When you pass each other in the hallway you both say ‘fuck you.’

The 5th kind of sex is called: Religious Sex. Which means you get nun in the morning, nun in the afternoon and nun at night. (Very Popular)

The 6th kind is called Courtroom Sex. This is when you cannot stand your wife any more. She takes you to court and screws you in front of everyone.

And; last, but not least, The 7th kind of sex is called: Social Security Sex.  You get a little each month. But not enough to enjoy yourself.

Please do not reply to tell me what stage you are in. I have enough problems of my own!

She was sitting on her front step smoking a cigar, so he walked up to her and said,

“I couldn’t help but notice how happy you look! What is your secret?”

“I smoke ten cigars a day,” she said. “Before I go to bed, I smoke a nice big joint. Apart from that, I drink a whole bottle of Jack Daniels every week, and eat only junk food. On weekends, I pop pills, get laid, and I don’t exercise at all.”

“That is absolutely amazing! How old are you?”

“Forty,” she replied

One morning, on his way out to check on the cows, the rancher says to Amy, ‘The insemination man is coming over to impregnate one of our cows today, so I drove a nail into the 2 by 4 just above where the cow’s stall is in the barn. Please show him where the cow is when he gets here, OK?’

The rancher leaves for the fields. After a while, the artificial insemination man arrives and knocks on the front door.

Amy takes him down to the barn.  They walk along the row of cows and when Amy sees the nail, she tells him, ‘This is the one right here.’

The man, assuming he is dealing with a dumb blonde, asks, ‘Tell me lady, ’cause I’m dying to know; how would YOU know that this is the right cow to be bred?’

‘That’s simple,” she said.  ”By the nail that’s over its stall,’ she explains confidently.

Laughing rudely at her, the man says, ‘And what is the nail for?’

The blonde turns to walk away and says sweetly over her shoulder,

‘I guess it’s to hang your pants on..’

At French Customs, he took a few minutes to locate his passport in his carry on.

“You have been to France before, Monsieur?” the Customs officer asked sarcastically.

Mr. Whiting admitted that he had been to France previously. “Then you should know enough to have your passport ready.”

The American said, ‘The last time I was here, I didn’t have to show it.”

“Impossible.  Americans always have to show their passports on arrival in France !” the Customs officer sneered.

The American senior gave the Frenchman a long, hard look.

Then he quietly explained … “Well, when I came ashore at Omaha Beach , at 4:40am, on D-Day in 1944, to help liberate your country, I couldn’t find a single Frenchman to show a passport to. … “

…………. You could have heard a pin drop.

DeGaule said he wanted all US military out of France as soon as possible.

Rusk responded “does that include the 180,000 who are buried here?”

DeGaule could not respond.

…………. You could have heard a pin drop.

The crowd started chanting, “Speak in Gujarati. We will hear you only if you speak in Gujarati.”

Field Marshal Sam Bahadur Maneckshaw stopped.

Swept the audience with a hard stare and replied,

“Friends, I have fought many a battle in my long career. I have learned Punjabi from men of the Sikh Regiment; Marathi from the Maratha Regiment; Tamil from the men of the Madras Sappers; Bengali from the men of the Bengal Sappers, Hindi from the Bihar Regiment; and even Nepali from the Gurkha Regiment. Unfortunately there was no soldier from Gujarat from whom I could have learned Gujarati.”

……..   You could have heard a pin drop.

So they loaded up Jack’s minivan and headed north.

After driving for a few hours, they got caught in a terrible blizzard.

They pulled into a nearby farm and asked the attractive lady who answered the door if they could spend the night.

‘I realize it’s terrible weather out there and I have this huge house all to myself, but I’m recently widowed,’ she explained. ‘I’m afraid the neighbours will talk if I let you stay in my house.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Jack said. ‘We’ll be happy to sleep in the barn, and if the weather breaks, we’ll be gone at first light.’ The lady agreed, and the two men found their way to the barn and settled in for the night.

Come morning, the weather had cleared, and they got on their way.

They enjoyed a great weekend of skiing.

But about nine months later, Jack got an unexpected letter from an attorney.

It took him a few minutes to figure it out, but he finally determined that it was from the attorney of that attractive widow he had met on the ski weekend.

He dropped in on his friend Bob and asked, ‘Bob, do you remember that good-looking widow from the farm we stayed at on our ski holiday up north about 9 months ago?’

‘Yes, I do.’ said Bob.

‘Did you, er, happen to get up in the middle of the night, go up to the house and pay her a visit?’

‘Well, um, yes !,’ Bob said, a little embarrassed about being found out, ‘I have to admit that I did.’

‘And did you happen to give her my name instead of telling her your name?’

Bob’s face turned beet red and he said, ‘Yeah, look, I’m sorry, buddy, I’m afraid I did.’ ‘Why do you ask?’

‘She just died and left me everything.’

And you thought the ending would be different, didn’t you?

The two get talking and eventually go back to his place.

They start kissing and the man takes off his shirt.

On his arm, he has a tattoo that says REEBOK.

“What’s that for?” the lady questions.

“Oh, I have this so that when I’m on TV, people will see my tattoo, and Reebok pays me.”

Then the man takes off his trousers, and on his  leg he has a tattoo that says NIKE.

‘What’s that ?’ the lady questions again.

“Just like the Reebok tattoo, I get paid when this tattoo is seen on TV.”

Then the man drops his underwear and on his penis he has a tattoo that says AIDS.

The lady screams: “Don’t tell me you have AIDS!”

The man replies: “No, no…! Calm down…!

It will say ADIDAS in a minute.”