When I first met my wife we went on our first date and I was pretty nervous. I wanted to take her somewhere different to break the monotonous “first date” vibe of coffee or drinks so we decided to go to a local apiary to help transplant some bees to a new hive. When we arrived I was surprised that out of the group the keeper picked me to dawn the traditional safety measures (IE: gloves, full suit and mask/head covering). Apparently my job was to grab any bees that stayed behind and didn’t naturally move to the next hive. As the keeper smoked the hive I could tell my services were going to be needed as quite a few stuck around and refused to inhabit the new location. I was instructed to “just grab them” and “put them into the new hive”. I was extremely apprehensive as I have a small fear of being stung. Not wanting to look like a wussy on our first date I jumped in and grabbed a large handful of writhing and angry bees that I thought for sure would be my demise. Standing there, with these wriggling dangerous insects in my hands I happened to lock eyes with my soon to be wife and I remember it like it was yesterday. Her hair shined in the sun and she had a radiant glow about her. I couldn’t look away, the keeper had to eventually jump in and guide my hands to the new hive out of fear of losing them. Out of the entire date I walked away with a passion for her and a new understanding of life and love. Beauty truly is in the eyes of the Bee Holder.
Farmer Brown decided his injuries from the accident were serious enough to take the trucking company (responsible for the accident) to court.
In court, the trucking company’s fancy lawyer was questioning Farmer Brown.
“Didn’t you say, at the scene of the accident, ‘I’m fine’?” asked the lawyer.
Farmer Brown responded, “Well I’ll tell you what happened. I had just loaded my favorite mule Bessie into the…”
“I didn’t ask for any details,” the lawyer interrupted, “just answer the question. Did you not say, at the scene of the accident, ‘I’m fine’!”
Farmer Brown said, “Well I had just gotten Bessie into the trailer and I was driving down the road…”
The lawyer interrupted again and said, “Judge, I am trying to establish the fact that, at the scene of the accident, this man told the Highway Patrolman on the scene that he was just fine. Now several weeks after the accident he is trying to sue my client. I believe he is a fraud. Please tell him to simply answer the question.”
By this time the Judge was fairly interested in Farmer Brown’s answer and said to the lawyer, “I’d like to hear what he has to say about his favorite mule Bessie.”
Brown thanked the Judge and proceeded, “Well as I was saying, I had just loaded Bessie, my favorite mule, into the trailer and was driving her down the highway when this huge semi-truck and trailer ran the stop sign and smacked my truck right in the side.”
He continued, “I was thrown into one ditch and Bessie was thrown into the other. I was hurting real bad and didn’t want to move. However, I could hear ole Bessie moaning and groaning. I knew she was in terrible shape just by her groans.”
“Shortly after the accident a highway patrolman came on the scene.
He could hear Bessie moaning and groaning so he went over to her.
After he looked at her, he took out his gun and shot her between the eyes.
Then the patrolman came across the road with his gun in his hand and looked at me.”
Finally, farmer Brown came to the end of the story.
“The patrolman looked at me and said, ‘Your mule was in such bad shape I had to shoot her. How are YOU feeling’?”
After their baby was born, the panicked Jewish father went
to see the obstetrician Dr. Cohen.
“Doctor,” Mr. Spiegel said, “I don’t mind telling you,
but I’m a little upset because my daughter has red hair.
She can’t possibly be mine.”
“Nonsense,” the doctor said. “Even though you and your wife
both have black hair, one of your ancestors may have
contributed red hair to the gene pool.”
“It isn’t possible,” the man insisted.
“This can’t be, our families on both sides had jet black hair
“Well,” said the doctor, “let me ask you this.
How often do you have sex?”
Spiegel seemed a bit ashamed. “I’ve been working very hard
for the past year.
We only made love once or twice every few months”
“There you have it!” the doctor Cohen said confidently.
“It’s just rust.”
A man goes into a restaurant and is seated. All the waitresses are gorgeous. A particularly voluptuous waitress wearing a very short skirt and legs that won’t quit came to his table and asked if he was ready to order:
“What would you like, sir?”
He looks at the menu and then scans her beautiful frame top to bottom, then answers, “A quickie.”
The waitress turns and walks away in disgust.
After she regains her composure she returns and asks again,
“What would you like, sir?”
Again the man thoroughly checks her out and again answers,
“A quickie, please.”
This time her anger takes over, she reaches over and slaps him
across the face with a resounding “SMACK!” and storms away.
A man sitting at the next table leans over and whispers,
“Um, I think it’s pronounced ‘QUICHE.'”
Two cuties were comparing notes concerning their latest boyfriends.
The first said, “He took me to his condo in Ocean City and
showed me all these expensive jewels.
There was an emerald-cut diamond of at least five carats,
a tennis bracelet of six carats, and even a wrist
watch with eleven carats.”
“Impressive.” said the second young thing.
“Well… yes.” the first agreed.
“But the downside was that with all those carats,
he expected me to behave like a rabbit.”