"A Little Boy and His Grandfather"

A little boy and his grandfather are raking leaves in the yard. The little boy finds an earthworm trying to get back into its hole. He says, "Grandpa, I bet I can put that worm back in that hole."

The grandfather replies, "I`ll bet you five dollars you can`t. It`s too wiggly and limp to put back in that little hole."

The little boy runs into the house and comes back out with a can of hairspray. He sprays the worm until it is straight and stiff as a board. Then he puts the worm back into the hole.

The grandfather hands the little boy five dollars, grabs the hairspary, and runs into the house.

Thirty minutes later the grandfather comes back out and hands the little boy another five dollars.

The little boy says, "Grandpa, you already gave me five dollars."

The grandfather replies, "I know. That`s from your grandma."

Hit The Floor"... A True Story...

On a recent weekend in Atlantic City, a woman won a bucketful of quarters at a slot machine. She took a break from the slots for dinner with her husband in the hotel dining room. But first she wanted to stash the quarters in her room. "I'll be right back and we'll go to eat," she told her husband and she carried the coin-laden bucket to the elevator.

As she was about to walk into the elevator she noticed two men already aboard. Both were black. One of them was big... very big... an intimidating figure. The woman froze. Her first thought was: These two are going to rob me. Her next thought was: Don't be a bigot, they look like perfectly nice gentlemen. But racial stereotypes are powerful, and fear immobilised her. She stood and stared at the two men. She felt anxious,flustered, ashamed. She hoped they didn't read her mind, but knew they surely did; her hesitation about joining them on the elevator was all too obvious. Her face was flushed.

She couldn't just stand there, so with a mighty effort of will she picked up one foot and stepped forward and followed with the other foot and was on the elevator. Avoiding eye contact, she turned around stiffly and faced the elevator doors as they closed. A second passed, and then another second, and then another. Her fear increased! The elevator didn't move. Panic consumed her. My God, she thought,I'm trapped and about to be robbed! Her heart plummeted. Perspiration poured from every pore.

Then ... one of the men said, "Hit the floor. " Instinct told her: Do what they tell you. The bucket of quarters flew upwards as she threw out her arms and collapsed on the elevator carpet. A shower of coins rained down on her. Take my money and spare me, she prayed.

More seconds passed.

She heard one of the men say politely, "Ma'am if you'll just tell us what floor you're going to, we'll push the button." The one who said it had a little trouble getting the words out. He was trying mightily to hold in a belly laugh.

She lifted her head and looked up at the two men. They reached down to help her up. Confused, she struggled to her feet. "When I told my man here to hit the floor," said the average sized one, "I meant that he should hit the elevator button for our floor. I didn't mean for you to hit the floor, ma'am." He spoke genially. He bit his lip. It was obvious he was having a hard time not laughing.

She thought: My God, what a spectacle I've made of myself. She was too humiliated to speak. She wanted to blurt out an apology, but words failed her. How do you apologise to two perfectly respectable gentlemen for behaving as though they were going to rob you? She didn't know what to say.

The 3 of them gathered up the strewn quarters and refilled her bucket. When the elevator arrived at her floor, they insisted on walking her to her room. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and they were afraid she might not make it down the corridor. At her door they bid her a good evening. As she slipped into her room she could hear them roaring with laughter while they walked back to the elevator.

The woman brushed herself off. She pulled herself together and went downstairs for dinner with her husband. The next morning flowers were delivered to her room -- a dozen roses. Attached to EACH rose was a crisp one hundred dollar bill. The card said: "Thanks for the best laugh we've had in years."

It was signed,

Eddie Murphy
Michael Jordan

So You Want To Date My Daughter

When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter's chest. He would open the door and immediately affect my good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.

Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter's suitors feel even worse. My motto: wilt them in the living room and they'll stay wilted all night.

"So," I'll call out jovially. "I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you're stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?" As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.

Rule ONE: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure as heck not picking anything up.

Rule TWO: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.

Rule THREE: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.

Rule FOUR: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex with-out utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I WILL kill you.

Rule FIVE: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."

Rule SIX: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.

Rule SEVEN: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule EIGHT: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than over-alls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her Adam's apple. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too-- there are only eight of them, for crying out loud! And, for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them. (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive.) I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point pen might be inadequate -- ink washes off--and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.

One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter's would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times) she asked me why I was being so hard on the boy. "Don't you remember being that age?" she challenged. Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the eight simple rules?

Touche'

A husband and wife are getting all snugly in bed. The passion is heating up, but then the wife stops and says "I don't feel like it, I just want you to hold me." The husband says "WHAT??" The wife explains that he must not be in tune with her emotional needs as a Woman. The husband realizes that nothing is going to happen tonight and he might as well deal with it.

The next day the husband takes her shopping at a big department store. He walks around and has her try on three very expensive outfits and then tells his wife, "We'll take all three of them". Next they go over and get matching shoes worth $200 each. Finally they go to the Jewelry Department and get diamond earrings. The wife is so excited (she thinks her husband has flipped out) She goes for the tennis bracelet. The husband says "but you don't even play tennis, but OK if you like it then let's get it." The wife is jumping up and down so excited she cannot even believe what is going on. She says "I am ready to go, lets go to the cash register." The husband says," No, honey we're not going to BUY all this stuff." The wife's face goes blank. "No honey, I just want you to HOLD this stuff for a while." Her face gets red and she is about to explode and then the Husband says "You must not be in tune with my financial needs as a Man!!!