many men

It was autumn, and time for the blonde farmer to go over his books. To his puzzlement, he found that his flock of Rhode Island Reds was twice as profitable, in terms of eggs they produced, as was his flock of White Leghorns.

“Look at this, he said to his wife. “I’ve gone over the numbers again and again, and there’s no doubt about it: the Reds are laying twice as many eggs and bringing in twice the money of the Whites. I just don’t understand it.”

“I’ll tell you something else,” said his equally blonde wife, running a finger over the figures in her husband’s spreadsheet. “It looks like the Reds are eating twice as much as the Whites, too. Maybe that’s why they’re producing twice as many eggs.”

“By golly, you’re right,” said the farmer. Stymied, he went to bed that night, making a mental note to call an expert the next day.

He spent the following morning on the phone, calling the best poultry experts all over the country, but none could offer a satisfactory explanation as to why a flock of Rhode Island Reds would eat twice as much or produce twice as many eggs as a flock of White Leghorns.

On the verge of giving up, the farmer realized he had wasted a whole morning on the phone, when he should have been out tending his chickens. He hurried out to the huge hen house, where he ran into Jeb, the young farmhand.

“Get up late this morning?” asked Jeb.

The farmer explained, as he had at least twenty times already that day, about the mystery of the chickens, and how he had sought expert advice, to no avail.

Jeb listened, and when the farmer was done talking, said, “Boss, I think I can tell you why the Reds are eating twice as much and laying twice as many eggs as the Whites.”

The blonde farmer smirked, “Oh, really, Jeb? And why would that be?”

“Well, Boss,” said Jeb, “you own twice as many Reds as Whites.”

Hillary Rodham Clinton, role model for women who scare their husbands into cheating everywhere, has decided to have a trial separation from hubby Bill. She reportedly said that she has enough embarassment from living through a year long scandal, woman after woman, a rape charge, and having to watch Bill run to McDonalds in those really tight shorts.

Hillary decided to separate herself from Bill, after trying for 17 years to separate him from evey other woman in Arkansas. She also complains that many of Bill’s employees say that he is a good guy, and they are happy most of their work isn’t taxable because thier work is all under the table.

In Bill’s Defense: OK, now all of us moral people complain that Bill is a lying, draft dodging, immoral, sex crazed lunatic, but put yourself in his shoes. Now if you were married to Hillary… you would do anything, include date every woman you see, because if I was married to Hillary, I’d consider Monica Lewinsky a hottie also. That is no excuse for his actions, but I understand.

A man mentioned to his landlord that the tenants in the apartment above his were being a bit unruly. “Many a night they stomp on the floor and shout till around midnight.”

When the landlord asked if it bothered him, he replied, “Not really because I usually stay up and practice my trumpet till about that time most every night, anyway.”

Ten Simple Rules for Dating My Daughter

Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure 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 earrings and 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 ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four: I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without 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, you think 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 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. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that 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 overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her throat. 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.

Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a pot-bellied, balding, middle-aged, dim-witted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very, very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy outside of Saigon. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car. There is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

1) How many honest, intelligent, caring men in the world does it take to do the dishes?
Both of them.

2) Why did the man cross the road?
He heard the chicken was a slut.

3) Why don’t women blink during foreplay?
They don’t have time.

4) Why does it take 1 million sperm to fertilize one egg?
Even at that stage they won’t stop to ask directions.

5) What do men and sperm have in common?
They both have a one-in-a-million chance of becoming a human being

6) How does a man show that he is planning for the future?
He buys two cases of beer.

7) Why is it difficult to find men who are sensitive, caring and goodlooking?
They all already have boyfriends.
What do you call a woman who knows where her husband is every night?
A Widow

9) How did Pinocchio find out he was made of wood?
His hand caught fire.

10) What is the one thing that all men at singles bars have in common?
They are all married.