Funny Stories Jokes

Matt and Lennie’s Do’s and Don’t Do’s…

For Dating:

DO - Take pride in your apperance.

DON’T - Stick a 1988 Blue Jays pennent in your ear.

DO - Use cutlery.

DON’T - Use it to pick your teeth.

DO - Apply a nice fragrance.

DON’T - Apply a wrestling hold.

DO - Change your underwear beforehand.

DON’T - Ask to see theirs.

DO - Make jokes.

DON’T - Use jokes including the words: Gimp, Tits, Ass, or Fart.

DO - Tip the Waiter.

DON’T - Trip the Waiter into the dish-cart resulting in massive facial wounds.

DO - Select a romantic restaurant.

DON’T - Select “Fisherman Joe’s Belly Up”.

DO - Hold doors for your date.

DON’T - Hold them shut.

DO - Offer them your jacket if it’s cold outside.

DON’T - Wait until their not looking and slap them in the back of the head with a large frozen tuna.

DO - Tell them interesting stories.

DON’T - Tell them about the time that you and your two buddies threw eggs at the local fat man until he passed out.

AND MOST IMPORTANTLY…

DO - Find a common interest.

DON’T - Throw your pants to the ground and proclaim, “Because they screwed the operation up, I got it for free!”

Thanks,
Matt & Lennie

I took some friends out to dinner last week, and I noticed a spoon in the shirt pocket of our waiter as he handed us the menus. It seemed a little odd, but I dismissed it as a random thing until our busboy came with water & tableware; he, too, sported a spoon in his breast-pocket. I looked around the room, and all the waiters, waitresses, busboys, etc., had spoons in their pockets.

When our waiter returned to take our order, I just had to ask, “Why the spoons?” “Well,” he explained, “our parent company recently hired some Price Waterhouse efficiency experts to review all our procedures, and after months of statistical analyses, they concluded that our patrons drop spoons on the floor 73% more often than any other utensil at a frequency of 3 spoons per hour per workstation. By preparing all our workers for this contingency in advance, we can cut our trips to the kitchen down and save time … nearly 1.5 extra man hours per shift.”

Just as he concluded, a “ch-ching” came from the table behind him, and he quickly replace a fallen spoon with the one from his pocket. “I’ll grab another spoon the next time I’m in the kitchen instead of making a special trip,” he proudly explained. I was impressed. “Thanks. I had to ask.” “No problem,” he answered, then he continued to take our orders.

As the members of my dinner party took their turns, my eyes darted back & forth from each person ordering and my menu. That’s when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a thin, black thread protruding from our waiter’s fly. Again, I dismissed it; yet I had to scan the room and, sure enough, there were other waiters & busboys with strings hanging out of their trousers.

My curiosity overrode discretion at this point, so before he could leave I had to ask. “Excuse me, but … uh … why, or what …about that string?” “Oh, yeah” he began in a quieter tone. “Not many people are that observant. That same efficiency group found we could save time in the Men’s room, too.” “How’s that?” “You see, by tying a string to the end of our, eh, selves, we can pull it out at the urinals literally hands-free and thereby eliminate the need to wash our hands, cutting time spent in the restroom by over 93%!”

“Oh, that makes sense,” I said, but then thinking thru the process, I asked, “Hey, wait-a-minute. If the string helps you pull it out, how do you get it back in?”

“Well,” he whispered, “I don’t know about the other guys, but I use my spoon.”

Two guys are walking through the woods and come across this big deep hole.

“Wow…that looks deep.”

“Sure does… toss a few pebbles in there and see how deep it is.”

They pick up a few pebbles and throw them in and wait… no noise.

“Jeeez. That is REALLY deep… here.. throw one of these great big rocks down there. Those should make a noise.”

They pick up a couple of football-sized rocks and toss them into the hole and wait… and wait. Nothing.

They look at each other in amazement. One gets a determined
look on his face and says, “Hey… over here in the weeds, there’s a railroad tie. Help me carry it over here. When we toss THAT thing in, it’s GOTTA make some noise.”

The two drag the heavy tie over to the hole and heave it in. Not a sound comes from the hole.

Suddenly, out of the nearby woods, a goat appears, running like the wind. It rushes toward the two men, then right past them, running as fast as it’s legs will carry it.

Suddenly, it leaps in the air and into the hole. The two men are astonished with what they’ve just seen…

Then, out of the woods comes a farmer who spots the men and ambles over. “Hey… you two guys seen my goat out here?”

“You bet we did! Craziest thing I ever seen! It came running like crazy and just jumped into this hole!”

“Nah”, says the farmer, “That couldn’t have been MY goat. My goat was chained to a railroad tie.”

Mr. Greenberg was an illiterate immigrant, but he worked hard, saved his pennies, and started a small business. It did well, and soon he had enough money to send for the wife and children.

The work kept him very busy, so he never had time to learn to write, but the bank was happy to do business with him, even though his signature consisted of two X’s.

He prospered, he opened more stores, the kids were transferred to private schools, the family moved into a fancy house (with one staircase going nowhere just for show)…you get the idea.

One day his banker, Mr. Smith, asked him to drop by. “So vat’s the problem?” Greenberg asked, a bit anxiously. Smith waved a bunch of checks at him. “Perhaps nothing,” he said, “but I wanted to be on the safe side. These recent checks
of yours are all signed with 3 X’s, but your signature of record has just 2.”

Greenberg looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry about making
trouble,” he said, “but my vife said that since I’m now such a high class rich guy, I should have a middle name!”

There were 2 cows talking together in a field.

The first one said “What do you think of this mad cow disease ? It seems to be spreading everywhere. Isn’t it frightening ? What do you think ?”

The other one answered, “What do I care? I’m a chicken !”