One more blond joke

A young ventriloquist is touring the clubs and one night he's doing a show in a small town in Ohio. With his dummy on his knee, he starts going through his usual dumb blond jokes.

Suddenly, a blond woman in the fourth row stands on her chair and starts shouting, "I've heard enough of your stupid blond jokes. What makes you think you can stereotype women that way? What does the color of a
person's hair have to do with her worth as a human being? It's men like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in the community, and from reaching our full potential as people. You and your
kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against not only blondes, but women in general...pathetically all in the name of humor!"

The embarrassed ventriloquist begins to apologize, and the blond yells, "You stay out of this! I'm talking to that little idiot on your lap!"

Challenged Senior - joke

I thought about the 30 year business I ran with 1800 employees, all without a Blackberry that played music, took videos, pictures, and communicated with Facebook and Twitter.

I signed up under duress for Twitter and Facebook, so my seven kids, their spouses, 13 grandkids, and 2 great grandkids could communicate with me in the modern way. I figured I could handle something as simple as Twitter with only 140 characters of space.

That was before one of my grandkids hooked me up for Tweeter, Tweetree, Twhirl, Twitterfon, Tweetie and Twittererific Tweetdeck, Twitpix and something that sends every message to my cell phone and every other program within the texting world.
My phone was beeping every three minutes with the details of everything except the bowel movements of the entire next generation. I am not ready to live like this. I keep my cell phone in the garage in my golf bag.

The kids bought me a GPS for my last birthday because they say I get lost every now and then going over to the grocery store or library. I keep that in a box under my tool bench with the Blue tooth [it's red] phone I am supposed to use when I drive. I wore it once and was standing in line at
Barnes and Noble talking to my wife as everyone in the nearest 50 yards was glaring at me. Seems I have to take my hearing aid out to use it and I got a little loud.

I mean the GPS looked pretty smart on my dash board, but the lady inside was the most annoying, rudest person I had run into in a long time. Every 10 minutes, she would sarcastically say, "Re-calc-ul-ating". You would think that she could be nicer. It was like she could barely
tolerate me. She would let go with a deep sigh and then tell me to make a U-turn at the next light. Then when I would make a right turn instead, it was not good.

When I get really lost now, I call my wife and tell her the name of the cross streets and while she is starting to develop the same tone as Gypsy, the GPS lady, at least she loves me.

To be perfectly frank, I am still trying to learn how to use the cordless phones in our house. We have had them for 4 years, but I still haven't figured out how I can lose three phones all at once and have run around digging under chair cushions and checking bathrooms and the dirty laundry baskets when the phone rings.

The world is just getting too complex for me. They even mess me up every time I go to the grocery store. You would think they could settle on something themselves but this sudden "Paper or Plastic?" every time I check out just knocks me for a loop.

I bought some of those cloth reusable bags to avoid looking confused but I never remember to take them in with me.

Now I toss it back to them. When they ask me, "Paper or Plastic?" I just say, "Doesn't matter to me. I am bi-sacksual." Then it's their turn to stare at me with a blank look.

Middle Aged Italian Man

A virile, middle aged Italian gentleman named Guido was relaxing at his favorite bar in Rome when he managed to attract a spectacular young blonde woman..

Things progressed to the point where he invited her back to his apartment and, after some small talk, they retired to his bedroom where he rattled her senseless.

After a pleasant interlude he asked with a smile, 'So, you finish?' She paused for a second, frowned, and replied, 'No.'

Surprised, Guido reached for her and the rattling resumed. This time she thrashed about wildly and there were screams of passion. The sex finally ends and, again, Guido smiles and asks, You finish?'

Again, after a short pause, she returns his smile, cuddles closer to him and softly says, 'No.'

Stunned, but damned if he was going to leave this woman unsatisfied, Guido reaches for the woman yet again.

Using the last of his strength, he barely manages it, but they end together screaming, bucking, clawing and ripping the bed sheets.

Exhausted, Guido falls onto his back, gasping. Barely able to turn his head, he looks into her eyes, smiles proudly and asked again, 'You finish?'

Barely able to speak, the beautiful blond whispers in his ear, 'No, I'm Swedish.

This is such a beautiful story of a bagpiper who was late for a funeral.

As a bagpiper, I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man who had no family or friends. The funeral was to be held at a cemetery in the remote countryside and this man would be the first to be laid to rest there.

As I was not familiar with the backwoods area, I became lost and being a typical man, did not stop for directions. I finally arrived an hour late. I saw the backhoe and the crew who were eating lunch but the hearse was nowhere in sight.

I apologized to the workers for my tardiness and stepped to the side of the open grave where I saw the vault lid already in place.

I assured the workers I would not hold them up for long but this was the proper thing to do. The workers gathered around, still eating their lunch. I played out my heart and soul.

As I played the workers began to weep. I played and I played like I'd never played before, from Going Home and The Lord is My Shepherd to Flowers of the Forest. I closed the lengthy session with Amazing Grace and walked to my car.

As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I overheard one of the workers saying to another, "Sweet Jeezuz, Mary 'n Joseph, I have never seen nothin' like that before and I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years."