Top 10 things to do with a broken printer

  • Put it in a director’s office. They’ll never know it doesn’t work.
  • Coerce it with a baseball bat.
  • Sell tickets and let others coerce it with a baseball bat.
  • Tell your boss someone put in ink cartridges full of invisible ink.
  • Pull the laser part out and try to blast Klingons.
  • Give it to your cousin who wants to open up a business card printing business
  • See if it floats in the fountain in front of the building.
  • Take it to the gun range for target practice.
  • See if it bounces when you throw it off the roof.
  • Leave it in the backseat of an unlocked car and track how long before it’s stolen.
  • Paint it gold and call it a sales award.

Where shall we go to eat?

Some 15 year old girlfriends decided to meet for dinner. They discussed where to eat and finally agreed on McDonald’s next to the Sea Side Restaurant because they only had $6.50 between them and Bobby Bruce, the cute boy in science class, lived on that street.

10 years later, the same girlfriends, now 25-year-olds, discussed where to meet for dinner. Finally they agreed to meet at the Sea Side Restaurant because it had free snacks, there was no cover charge, the beer was cheap, the band was good and there were lots of cute guys.

10 years later, the same girlfriends, now 35-year-olds, discussed where to meet for dinner. Finally they agreed to meet at the Sea Side Restaurant because the combos were good, it was near the gym and if they went late enough, there wouldn’t be many whiny little kids.

10 years later, the same girlfriends, now 45-year-olds, discussed where to meet for dinner. Finally they agreed to meet at the Sea Side Restaurant because the martinis were big and the waiters wore tight pants and had nice buns.

10 years later, the same girlfriends, now 55-year-olds, discussed where to meet for dinner. Finally they agreed to meet at the Sea Side Restaurant because the prices were reasonable, it had widows which opened (in case of hot flashes), it was private enough to talk about murad resurgence, the wine list was good and fish was good for their cholesterol.

10 years later, the same girlfriends, now 65-year-olds, discussed where to meet for dinner. Finally they agreed to meet at the Sea Side Restaurant because they had an Early Bird Special and the lighting was good.

10 years later, the same girlfriends, now 75-year-olds, discussed where to meet for dinner. Finally they agreed to meet at the Sea Side Restaurant because the food wasn’t too spicy and it was handicapped accessible.

10 years later, the same girlfriends, now 85-year-olds, discussed where to meet for dinner. Finally they agreed to meet at the Sea Side Restaurant because they’d never been there before.

10 Massage Therapy Jokes

1. Massage Therapist: Your appointment is for 9 A.M. If I’m not on time, start without me.

2. Massage Therapist: Let me know if that’s too much pressure. I don’t want to torture you. That would be an added charge.

3. Massage Therapist (monologuing): I’m going to be doing frictions which can be a little unpleasant. It’s at this point patients sometimes say (in a Sean Connery accent) “Do you expect me to talk?” And I say (wigged out Goldfinger voice): “I expect you to die, Mr. Bond!”

4. Client: What’s in the massage oil?
Massage Therapist: Patchouli and some Rosemary. It smells nice. I tried using holy water once but it burns! It BURNS!

5. Massage Therapist: Is the pressure okay?
Client: How will I know if it’s not “okay”?
Massage Therapist: If you see dead relatives beckoning you toward a bright light, that would be one clue.

6. Client: So…where did you get your training?
Massage Therapist: I’d like to say a I learnt at a massage therapy program online but the truth is: Prison.
Client (hushed gasp): Oh.

7. Client: By that pressure, I’d say you don’t like me very much.
Massage Therapist: (Easing up.) No, no! Thank you for telling me the pressure was too much for you. If I really didn’t like you, I’d use the lawn mower manoeuvre.
Client: (Curious) Ah, and what’s that?
Massage Therapist: I wrap a long towel around your head several times, place one foot on your back, take one end of the towel and, er…start you up!
Client descends into silence for the rest of the hour, tips generously and scurries out.

8. Client: Jeez! That trigger point really hurt!
Massage Therapist: Yeah, if only I would use my powers for good instead of evil.

9. Massage Therapist: Would you like some Tiger Balm down your spine?
Client: No. You shouldn’t use that! It’s not ecologically sound! It’s made with real tigers!
Massage Therapist: Ma’am, I can assure you that Tiger Balm is not that expensive. I’ve looked at the ingredients and I’m sure it does not contain any tiger residue whatsoever.
Client: Oh. Um. Okay.
Massage Therapist: The Baby Powder, however, contains 96% actual babies.

10. Client: I’m thinking of becoming a Massage Therapist myself. In the job I have now all I hear is complaints and people tell me their problems all day.
Massage Therapist: Spoken as a true healer.
Client: Huh?
Massage Therapist: What is it you do now, again?
Client: I’m a nurse.
Massage Therapist: (Speechless.)

The Christmas Doll

As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true, because every Christmas morning, although Jay’s kids’ stockings were overflowed, his poor panty hose hung sadly empty and grew increasingly threadbare.

One year, I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and a fake beard and went in search of an inflatable love doll. Of course, they don’t sell those things at Wal-mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown.

If you’ve never been in an X-rated store, don’t go. You’ll only confuse yourself. I was there almost three hours saying things like, “What does this do?” “You’re kidding me!” “Who owns that?” “Do you have their phone number?”

Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll suitable for a night of romance, that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck, so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour. I’m not sure what a complicated doll is. Perhaps one that is subject to wild mood shifts and using a French accent for no reason at all. (That also describes a few ex-girlfriends.)

Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I’d only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I figured the expensive options were features Jay could live without, so I settled for “Lovable Louise.” She was at the bottom of the price scale.

On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and cleverly left the front door key hidden under the mat. In the wee morning hours, long after Santa had come and gone, I snuck into the house and filled the dangling panty hose with Louise’s pliant legs and bottom.

I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. Then I let myself out, went home, and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning, my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the dog confused. He would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more. I suggested he purchase an inflatable Lassie to set Rover straight.

We also agreed that Louise should remain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner.

It seemed like a great idea, except that we forgot that Grandma and Grandpa would be there…

My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. “What the hell is that?” she asked. My brother quickly explained. “It’s a doll.”

“Who would play with something like that?” Granny snapped. I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. “Where are her clothes?” Granny continued. I hadn’t seen any in the box, but I kept this information to myself.

“Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran,” Jay said, trying to steer her to the dining room. But Granny was relentless.

“Why doesn’t she have any teeth?”

Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to be the one to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, “Hang on Granny, Hang on!”

My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said,” Hey, who’s the naked gal by the fireplace?” I told him she was Jay’s friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the fireplace insert, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa’s last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the morning.

The she lurched from the panty hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa. The cat screamed, I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth to mouth resuscitation. My brother wet his pants and Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, went outside and sat and fumed in the car.

It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.

Later in my brother’s garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise’s collapse. We discovered that Lousie had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health. Louise went on to star in several bachelor party movies. I think Grandpa still calls her whenever he can get out of the house.

Bang crash

A Rangers and Celtic fan get into a nasty car accident. Both vehicles are really wrecked, but amazingly neither of them are hurt.

After they crawl out of their cars, the Celtic fan says, “So you’re a Rangers fan, that’s interesting. I’m a Celtic fan… Wow! I thought I shouldn’t be driving as I’m suffering from post viral fatigue syndrome, but you came out nowhere mate. Just look at our cars. There’s nothing left, but fortunately we are unhurt. This must be a sign from God that we should meet and be friends and live together in peace the rest of our days.”

The Rangers fan replied,”Totally agree – this must be a sign from God!” The Rangers fan went on, “And look at this – here’s another miracle. My car is completely demolished but my soccer trophies and this bottle of whisky didn’t break. Surely God wants us to drink it, to celebrate the fact we are alive and kicking?”

He hands the bottle to the Celtic fan who nods his head in agreement, opens it and takes few big swigs from the bottle, then hands it back to the Rangers fan. The Rangers fan takes the bottle, immediately puts the cap back on, and hands back to the Celtic fan. The Celtic fan asks, “Aren’t you having any?” The Rangers fan replies, “Nah…I think I’ll just wait for the police……”