He awakened from the surgery to find himself in the care of nuns at the Catholic Hospital he was taken to. A nun was seated next to his bed holding a clip board loaded with several forms, and a pen. She asked him how he was going to pay for his treatment.

“Do you have health insurance?” she asked.

He replied in a raspy voice, “No health insurance.”

The nun asked, “Do you have money in the bank?”

He replied, “No money in the bank.”

“Do you have a relative who could help you with the payments?” asked the irritated nun.

He said, “I only have a spinster sister, and she is a nun.”

The nun became agitated and announced loudly, “Nuns are not spinsters! Nuns are married to God.”

The patient replied, “Perfect. Send the bill to my brother-in-law.”

He became concerned and walked over to the car. He noticed that Linda’s eyes were now open and she looked very strange.

He asked her if she was okay, and Linda replied that she had been shot in the back of the head and had been holding her brains in for over an hour.

The husband called the paramedics, who broke into the car because the doors were locked and Linda refused to remove her hands from her head. When they finally got in, they found that Linda had a wad of bread dough on the back of her head.

A biscuit dough canister had exploded from the heat, making a loud noise that sounded like a gunshot, and the wad of dough hit her in the back of her head. When she reached back to find out what it was, she felt the dough and thought it was her brains.

She initially passed out, but quickly recovered.

Linda is a blonde, a Democrat, and an Obama supporter, but that could all be a coincidence.

The defective biscuit canister was analyzed and the expiration date was from 2008, so it was determined to be Bush’s fault.–

God Bless
America!

Every night after dinner, Harold goes to a secluded garden behind the Center to sit and ponder his accomplishments and long life.

One evening, Mildred, age 87, wanders into the garden. They begin to chat and before they know it, several hours have passed.

After a short lull in their conversation, Harold turns to Mildred and asks, ‘Do you know what I miss most of all?’

She asks, ‘What?’

‘Sex!!’ he replies

Mildred exclaims, ‘Why you old fart. You couldn’t get it up if I held a gun to your head!’

‘I know,’ Harold says, ‘but it would be nice if a woman could just hold it for a while.’

Well, I can oblige,’ says Mildred, who unzips his trousers, removes his manhood and proceeds to hold it. Afterward, they agree to meet secretly each night in the garden where they would sit and talk and Mildred would hold Harold’s manhood.

Then one night Harold didn’t show up at their usual meeting place. Alarmed, Mildred decided to find Harold and make sure he was O.K.

She walked around the Senior Citizen Home where she found him sitting by the pool with Ethel, another female resident, who was holding Harold’s manhood!

Furious, Mildred yelled, ‘You two-timing son of a bitch! What does Ethel have that I don’t have?’

Old Harold smiled happily and replied, ‘Parkinson’s.’

Yesterday I was at my local Costco buying a large bag of Purina dog chow for my loyal pet, Biscuit, The Wonder Dog, and I was in the checkout line when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

What did she think I had, an elephant? So, since I’m retired and have little to do, on impulse I told her that, no, I didn’t have a dog; I was starting the Purina Diet again. I added that I probably shouldn’t, because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I’d lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and I.V.s in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so it works well, and I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story.)

Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me.
I told her no, I stepped off a curb to sniff an Irish Setter’s behind; and, a car hit us both!

I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard!

Costco won’t let me shop there anymore.

If there’s a moral to this true-life adventure, it is that you better watch what you ask retired people. They have all the time in the world to think of crazy things to say.

P.S. Send this (especially) to all your retired friends … it will not only be their laugh for the day, it will also give them inspiration!

COSTELLO: I want to talk about the unemployment rate in America.

ABBOTT: Good subject. Terrible times. It’s about 9%.

COSTELLO: That many people are out of work?

ABBOTT: No, that’s 16%.

COSTELLO: You just said 9%.

ABBOTT: 9% unemployed.

COSTELLO: Right: 9% out of work.

ABBOTT: No, that’s 16%.

COSTELLO: Okay, so it’s 16% unemployed.

ABBOTT: No, that’s 9%.

COSTELLO: WAIT A MINUTE! Is it 9% or 16%?

ABBOTT: 9% are unemployed. 16% are out of work.

COSTELLO: If you’re out of work you’re unemployed.

ABBOTT: No, you can’t count the “Out of Work” as the unemployed. You have to look for work to be unemployed.

COSTELLO: But … they’re out of work!

ABBOTT: No, you miss my point.

COSTELLO: What point?

ABBOTT: Someone who doesn’t look for work can’t be counted with those who look for work. It wouldn’t be fair.

COSTELLO: To whom?

ABBOTT: The unemployed.

COSTELLO: But they’re ALL out of work.

ABBOTT: No, the unemployed are actively looking for work… Those who are out of work stopped looking. They gave up. If you give up, you’re no longer in the ranks of the unemployed.

COSTELLO: So if you’re off the unemployment roles, that would count as less unemployment?

ABBOTT: Unemployment would go down. Absolutely!

COSTELLO: The unemployment goes down just because you don’t look for work?

ABBOTT: Absolutely it goes down. That’s how you get to 9%. Otherwise it would be 16%. You don’t want to read about 16% unemployment do ya?

COSTELLO: That would be frightening.

ABBOTT: Absolutely.

COSTELLO: Wait, I got a question for you. That means there are two ways to bring down the unemployment number?

ABBOTT: Two ways is correct.

COSTELLO: Unemployment can go down if someone gets a job?

ABBOTT: Correct.

COSTELLO: And unemployment can also go down if you stop looking for a job?

ABBOTT: Bingo.

COSTELLO: So there are two ways to bring unemployment down, and the easier of the two is to just stop looking for work.

ABBOTT: Now you’re thinking like an economist.

COSTELLO: I don’t even know what the hell I just said!

And now you know why President Obama’s unemployment figures are improving.

A little girl raises her hand. “I had a kitty-cat who stuttered.”

The teacher, knowing how precious some of these stories could become, asked the girl to describe the incident.

“Well,” she began, “I was in the back yard with my kitty and the Rottweiler that lives next door got a running start and before we knew it, he jumped over the fence into our yard!”

“That must’ve been scary,” said the teacher.

“It sure was,” said the little girl.

“My kitty raised her back, went ‘Ffffff!, Ffffff!, Fffffff,’ but before she could say ‘FUCK’ the Rottweiler ate her!”

The teacher had to leave the room.

One particular Saturday, however, he had a bad cold and really didn’t feel like being up at all. He knew his granddaughter always looked forward to their drives and would be disappointed. Luckily, his wife came to the rescue and said that she would take their granddaughter for the drive.

When they returned, the little girl anxiously ran upstairs to see her grandfather who was still in bed. “Well, did you enjoy your ride with
grandma?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, Pap Pap, it was really wonderful. We didn’t see a single asshole, piece of crap, horse’s ass, blind bastard, dipshit, Muslim goat humper or son of a bitch anywhere we went!”

Almost brings a tear to your eye, doesn’t it?

Socially Unacceptable Humor ( If you think these are bad …don’t ask me to publish the ones I deleted)

I was in bed with a blind girl last night and she said that I had the biggest penis she had ever laid her hands on.  I said “You’re pulling my leg.”

I looked to see what she was cooking, and I see one of my socks in the frying pan.

“What are you doing?” I asked her.

She said “I’m doing what you asked me to do last night when you came to bed very drunk,” she replied.

Completely puzzled, I walked away thinking to myself,

“I really don’t remember asking her to cook my sock…”