A customer walked into our store looking for Christmas lights.
I showed her our top brand, but—wanting to make sure each bulb worked—she asked me to take them out of the box and plug them in. I did, and each one lit up.
“Great,” she said. I carefully placed the string of lights back in the box. But as I handed them to her, she looked alarmed.
…
..
.
“I don’t want this box,” she said abruptly. “It’s been opened.”
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A trio of old veterans were bragging and jokes
about the heroic exploits of their ancestors one afternoon down at the VFW hall.
“My great grandfather, at age 13,” one declared proudly, “was a drummer boy at Shiloh.”
“Mine,” boasts another, “went down with Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn.”
“I’m the only soldier in my family,” confessed vet number three, “but if my great grandfather was living today he’d be the most famous man in the world.”
“Really? What’d he do?” his friends wanted to know.
“Nothing much… But he would be 165 years old.”
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A well dressed lawyer went into a bar for a martini and found himself beside a scrungy-looking drunk who kept mumbling and studying something in his hand.
The attorney leaned closer while the drunk held the tiny object up to the light, slurring, “Well, it looks like plastic.”
Then he rolled it between his fingers adding, “But it feels like rubber.”
Curious, the lawyer asked, “What do you have there mister?”
The drunk stammered, “Damn if I know, but it looks like plastic and feels like rubber.”
The lawyer said, “Let me take a look.”
And the drunk handed it over. The attorney rolled it between his thumb and fingers, then examined it closely.
“Yeah, it does look like plastic and feel like rubber, but I don’t know what it is. Where did you get it anyway?”
The drunk replied, “Out of my nose.”