Daily jokes issues - Today's Top jokes

The 70-year-old man sat down in the orthopedic surgeon's office. "You know, Doc," he said, "I've made love in more exotic cars than anyone I know. Must be at least a thousand." "And now, I suppose, you want me to treat you for the arthritis you got from scrunching up in all those uncomfortable positions," the medic said. "Hell, no," the old fellow replied. "I want to borrow your Lamborghini."

A blonde walks into the police department looking for a job. The officer wants to ask her a few questions.... Officer: What's 2+2? Blonde: Ummmmm... 4! Officer: What's the square root of 100? Blonde: Ummmm... 10! Officer: Good! Now, who killed Abraham Lincoln? Blonde: Ummmm... I dunno. Officer: Well, you can go home and think about it. Come back tomorrow. The blonde goes home and calls up one of her friends, who asks her if she got the job. The blonde says, excitedly, "Not only did I get the job, I'm already working on a murder case!"

John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl with the rose. His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and effort he located her address. She now lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II. During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn't matter what she looked like. When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting - 7:00 PM at the Grand Central Station in New York. "You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel." So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he'd never seen. I'll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened: A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. "Going my way, sailor?" she murmured. Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own. And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and must ever be grateful. I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment. "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?" The woman's face broadened into a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is about, son," she answered, "but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!" It's not difficult to understand and admire Miss Maynell's wisdom. The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the unattractive. "Tell me whom you love," Houssaye wrote, "And I will tell you who you are."

Back in the good ole days in Texas, when stage coaches and the like were popular, there were three people in a stage coach one day: a true red blooded born and raised Texas gentleman, a tenderfoot city slicker from back East, and a beautiful and well endowed Texas lady. The city slicker kept eyeing the lady, and finally he leaned forward and said, "Lady, I'll give you $10 for a blow job." The Texas gentleman looked appalled, pulled out his pistol, and killed the city slicker on the spot. The lady gasped and said, "Thank you, suh, for defendin' mah honor!" Whereupon the Texan holstered his gun and said, "Your honor, hell! No tenderfoot is gonna raise the price of a woman in Texas!"

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