Jay Leno
There was a 194-car crash in Los Angeles. Luckily the guy in the first car was still able to complete his cell phone call.
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I was getting into my car when I noticed a dent. On the windshield was a note and a phone number from the driver. “I feel terrible,” the woman apologized when I called. “I hit your car as I was pulling into the next parking spot.”
“Please, don’t worry,” I said to her. “I’m sure our insurance companies will take care of everything.”
“Thank you for your understanding,” she said. “You’re so much nicer than the man I hit on the way out.”
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New to the United States, I was eager to meet people. So one day I struck up a conversation with the only other woman in the gym. Pointing to two men playing racquetball in a nearby court, I said to her, “There’s my husband.” Then I added, “The thin one—not the fat one.”
After a slightly uncomfortable silence she replied, “And that’s my husband—the fat one.”`````````````
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I was in line at a restaurant. In front of me was a mother with her college-age son and his girlfriend. It was the middle of the dinner rush, and many customers were restless at the long wait, but the young couple, holding hands and kissing, were oblivious to everything around them. Although clearly not approving, the mother was silent, until one prolonged kiss when the young man had his face and hands buried in his girlfriend’s long, curly locks.
“Do you have to do that here?” the embarrassed mother asked.
“I’m not doing anything, Mom,” came her son’s muffled voice. “My earring’s caught in her hair.”
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When I walked up to the ATM at my bank, I noticed someone had left his card in the slot. Since it was a Friday evening, I thought the Good Samaritan thing to do was try to find the card’s owner so he wouldn’t go the weekend without it. I looked up the person’s name in the phone book and gave him a call.
“I found your ATM card,” I told the man who answered.
He then asked hopefully, “You didn’t happen to find my sunglasses too?”
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While away on business, a colleague and I decided to catch a movie. As we approached the theater, we read the marquee. It bore the name of the feature film followed by the numbers ‘7,’ ‘5,’ and ‘9.’ Assuming these were the show times, we were somewhat perplexed by their order.
I went inside to ask about it. “Our next show is at eight o’clock,” the woman in the box office announced.
“Eight o’clock?” I said, surprised. “But the marquee says seven, five and nine.”
“Right,” she agreed. “That’s 7:59. We lost our number eight.”
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When my friend got a job, her husband agreed to share the housework. He was stunned by the amount of effort involved in keeping a house clean with small boys to pick up after, and insisted that he and his wife shop for a new vacuum cleaner.
The salesman gave them a demonstration of the latest model. “It comes equipped with all the newest features,” he assured them.
The husband was not convinced. “Don’t you have a riding one?” he asked
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My husband, who is an auto mechanic, received a repair order that read: “Check for clunking noise when going around corners.” Taking the car out for a test drive, he made a right turn, and a moment later heard a clunk. He then made a left turn and again heard a clunk. Back at the shop, he opened the trunk and soon discovered the problem.
Promptly he returned the repair order to the service manager with this notation: “Remove bowling ball from trunk.”
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A couple of hours into a visit with my mother she noticed I hadn’t lit up a cigarette once. “Are you trying to kick the habit?”
“No,” I replied, “I’ve got a cold and I don’t smoke when I’m not feeling well.”
“You know,” she observed, “you’d probably live longer if you were sick more often.”
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When the skipper of an Icelandic trawler accidentally rammed Englishman Jim Hughes’s yacht, he caused $30,000 worth of damage. Exactly a year and a day before, reported the London Times, the skipper, Eriker Olafsson, had hit the same boat, causing $40,000 in damage.
What are the odds of this happening twice? Pretty good, since Olafsson purposely steered toward Hughes to apologize for the previous year’s collision.
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Which windshield wiper blade always quits first? That’s right—the driver’s side. This happened to me one day while driving home in the middle of a blinding storm.
Unable to see, I pulled over and tried to figure out a quick fix. I found it in a yellow cotton work glove that was lying on the floor. I wedged the cloth hand under the wiper arm.
It did a great job keeping my windshield clear. Not only that— you’d be surprised at how many people waved back.
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We purchased an old home in northern New York State from two elderly sisters. Winter was fast approaching, and I was concerned about the house’s lack of insulation. “If they could live here all those years, so can we!” my husband confidently declared.
One November night the temperature plunged to below zero, and we woke up to find interior walls covered with frost. My husband called the sisters to ask how they had kept the house warm. After a brief conversation, he hung up. “For the past 30 years,” he muttered, “they’ve gone to Florida for the winter.”
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Good morning everyboomie.
Well I spent the better part of today installing games and patches, and trying to get them to run. Therefore I'm wanting to get this diner open, so I can go play some games that I was able to get to play. Namely the Syberia games.
It's a good night to spend with Kate.
We had storms almost all night long last night, and could have more tonight.
Actually I hope it doesn't rain tonight. I'm going to drive out to the sod farm in the morning.
Have a happy day everyone.
joe
acebook
witter
Good luck at the farm!
Miss you!
Good Morning Joe, Ana and everyone. Joe could good luck hunting! Ana enjoy your day. Coffee and tea are ready.
at the sod farm. 
