Going to the mechanic

A few days ago, I was getting some polaris rzr parts for my quad and a blonde came in, and asked the mechanic for a “Seven-hundred-ten”. Everyone in the store looked at each other, and another customer asked “What is a seven-hundred-ten?”. The blonde
then replied, “You know, the little piece in the middle of the engine, I lost it and need a new one. It had always been there.”

The mechanic gave the blonde a piece of paper and a pen and asked her to draw what the piece looked like. She drew a circle with ‘710’ in the center. He then took her outside, and over to a car with its hood up and asked, is there a seven-hundred-ten on this car? She
rolled her eyes and said “Of course!” and pointed to the OIL cap.

Sell some insurance

Airman Jones was assigned to the induction center, where he advised new recruits about their government benefits, especially their GI insurance. It wasn’t long before Captain Smith noticed that Airman Jones was having a staggeringly high success-rate, selling insurance to nearly 100% of the recruits he advised. Now Captain Smith used to be an insurance salesman and although he knew that finding term life insurance is easier than you think, selling GI insurance was usually much harder.

Rather than ask about this, the Captain stood in the back of the room and listened to Jones` sales pitch. Jones explained the basics of the GI Insurance to the new recruits, and then said: “If you have GI Insurance and go into battle and are killed, the government has to pay $200,000 to your beneficiaries. If you don’t have GI insurance, and you go into battle and get killed, the government only has to pay a maximum of $6000.

Now,” he concluded, “which group do you think they are going to send into battle first?”

The Bachelor Diet

Monday:

Breakfast – Who can eat Breakfast on a Monday? Swallow some toothpaste while brushing your teeth.

Lunch – Send your secretary out for six “gutbombers”, those little hamburgers that used to cost a dime but now cost sixty five cents. Also order French fries, a bowl of chilli, a soft drink and have her stop on the way back for a family size bottle of Maalox.

Afternoon Snack – Drink the Maalox and steal one of your secretary’s diet pills

Dinner – Six pack of beer and Kentucky fried chicken three-piece Dinner, don’t eat the coleslaw.
Tuesday:

Breakfast – Eat the coleslaw.

Lunch – Go to the office vending machine and put ninety five cents in and close your eyes, push a button and eat whatever comes out swallowing it whole to prevent nausea.

Dinner – Four tacos and a pitcher of Sangria at El Flasho’s.
Wednesday:

Breakfast – Jaws couldn’t eat Breakfast after a night at El Flasho’s.

Lunch – Rolaids and a coke

Dinner – Drop in at a married friends house and beg for scraps.
Thursday:

Breakfast – Order out for pizza

Lunch – Your secretary is out sick, check Mondays gutbomber sack for leftovers.

Dinner – Go to a bar and drink yourself silly, when you get hungry ask the bartender for olives.
Friday:

Breakfast – Eggs, sausage, and an English muffin at McDonalds. Eat the Styrofoam plate and leave the food. It tastes better and it’s better for you.

Lunch – Skip Lunch… Fridays are murder

Dinner – Steak, well-done, baked potato, and asparagus. Don’t eat the asparagus, nobody really likes asparagus.
Saturday:

Breakfast – Sleep through it.

Lunch – Ditto

Dinner – Steak, Well done, baked potato, and brussel sprouts. Don’t eat the Brussel Sprouts. Take them home and plant them in a hanging basket.
Sunday

Breakfast – Three Bloody Marys and half a Twinkie.

Lunch – Eat Lunch? Waste a good buzz? Don’t eat Lunch.

Dinner – Chicken noodle soup – Call your mom and ask her about renting your old room.

Off to the doctor

A well-constructed miss went to the doctor complaining of vaginal dryness. She was asked to disrobe and climb onto the examining table.
“Doctor,” she replied shyly, “I just can’t undress in front of you.”

“All right,” said the physician, “I’ll flick off the lights. You undress and tell me when you’re through.”

In a few moments, her voice rang out in the darkness: “Doctor, I’ve undressed. What shall I do with my clothes?”

“Put them on the chair, on top of mine.”

Where’s my Sunday paper?

Front page of the New York Times on Armistice ...

‘WHERE is my SUNDAY paper?’ The irate customer calling the newspaper office loudly demanded, wanting to know where her Sunday edition was.

‘Ma’am,’ said the newspaper employee, ‘today is Saturday. The Sunday paper is not delivered until tomorrow, on Sunday.’

There was quite a long pause on the other end of the phone, followed by a ray of recognition, as she was heard to mutter, ‘Well, sh*t… so that’s why no one was at church today!!!