JR's Archives Of Great American Humour--02/15/2007

Do you know what O.J. gave his girlfriend for Valentine's Day? A head start!

I feel bad for people that die on Valentine's Day. How much would flowers cost, ten grand?

A new telephone survey says that 51 percent of college students drink until they pass out at least once a month. The other 49 percent didn't answer the phone.

Somebody told me k.d. Lang is a lesbian. Hey, there is no way that guy is a lesbian!

According to a new report, two thirds of the NYC fourth-graders can't read. Something is terribly wrong with our school system when 10-year olds cannot read the Surgeon General's warning on a pack of Camels.

I called 911. They said "How'd you get this number?"

More news on that couple in England, you know where the 31 year old man married the 70 year old woman. News from their honeymoon she slipped into something more comfortable, a coma.

My cat hadn't come home yet this morning, so I figure it's one of two things: either he got hit by a car or he's got a better social life than I do.

Finally, once upon a time, a successful rancher died and left everything to his devoted wife. She was determined to keep the ranch, but knew very little about ranching, so she placed an ad in the newspaper for a ranch hand. Two cowboys applied for the job. One was gay and the other a drunk. She thought long and hard about it, and when no one else applied she decided to hire the gay guy, figuring it would be safer to have him around the house than the drunk. He proved to be a hard worker who put in long hours every day and knew a lot about ranching.
For weeks, the two of them worked hard and the ranch was doing very well. Then one day, the rancher's widow said "You have done a really good job, and the ranch looks great. You should go into town and kick up your heels." The hired hand readily agreed and went into town on Saturday night.
He returned around 2:30am, and upon entering the room, he found the rancher's widow sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine, waiting for him She quietly called him over to her. "Unbutton my blouse and take it off," she said. Trembling, he did as she directed.
"Now take off my boots."
He did as she asked, ever so slowly.
"Now take off my socks."
He removed each gently and placed them neatly by her boots.
"Now take off my skirt."
He slowly unbuttoned it, constantly watching her eyes in the fire light.
"Now take off my bra." Again, with trembling hands, he did as he was told and dropped it to the floor.
Then she looked at him and said: "If you ever wear my clothes into town again, you're fired."

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