A man with a winking problem is applying for a position as a sales representative for a large firm.
The interviewer looks over his papers and says, “This is phenomenal. You’ve graduated from the best schools; your recommendations are wonderful, and your experience is unparalleled. Normally, we’d hire you without a second thought. However, a sales representative has a highly visible position, and we’re afraid that your constant winking will scare off potential customers. I’m sorry….we can’t hire you.”
“But wait,” said the applicant. “If I take two aspirin, I’ll stop winking!”
At this the interviewer exclaimed,”Really? Great! Show me!”
So the applicant reaches into his jacket pocket and begins pulling out all sorts of condoms, finally, at the bottom, he finds a packet of aspirin. He tears it open, swallows the pills, and stops winking.
“Well,” said the interviewer, “that’s all well and good, but this is a respectable company, and we will not have our employees womanising all over the country!”
“Womanising? What do you mean? I’m a happily married man!”
“Well then, how do you explain all these condoms?”
Resolving to surprise her husband, an executive’s wife stopped by his office.
When she opened the door, she found him with his secretary sitting in his lap.
Without hesitating, he dictated, “…and in conclusion, gentlemen, budget cuts or no budget cuts, I cannot continue to operate this office with just one chair.”
Three men: an editor, a photographer, and a journalist are covering a political convention in Miami. They decide to walk up and down the beach during their lunch hour. Halfway up the beach, they stumbled upon a lamp. As they rub the lamp a genie appears and says “Normally I would grant you three wishes, but since there are three of you, I will grant you each one wish.”
The photographer went first. “I would like to spend the rest of my life living in a huge house in St. Thomas with no money worries.” The genie granted him his wish and sent him on off to St. Thomas.
The journalist went next. “I would like to spend the rest of my life living on a huge yacht cruising the Mediterranean with no money worries.” The genie granted him his wish and sent him off to the Mediterranean.
Last, but not least, it was the editor’s turn. “And what would your wish be?” asked the genie.
“I want them both back after lunch” replied the editor, “the deadline for tomorrow’s newspaper is in about ten hours.
Two weeks ago was my forty-fifth birthday, and I wasn’t feeling too hot that morning anyway. I went to breakfast knowing my wife would be pleasant and say “Happy Birthday,” and probably have a present for me.
She didn’t even say “Good Morning,” alone any “Happy Birthday.” I thought, “Well, that’s wives for you. Maybe the children will remember.”
The children came in to breakfast and didn’t say a word.
When I started to the office I was feeling pretty low and despondent. As I walked into my office, my secretary, Janet, said, “Good morning boss, Happy Birthday.” And I felt a little better; someone had remembered.
I worked until noon. Then Janet knocked on my door and said, “You know, it’s such a beautiful day outside and it’s your birthday, let’s go to lunch, just you and me.” I said, “By George, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Let’s go.”
We went to lunch. We didn’t go where we normally go; we went out into the country to a little private place. We had two martinis and enjoyed lunch tremendously.
On the way back to the office, she said, “You know, it’s such a beautiful day. We don’t need to go back to the office, do we?” I said, “No, I guess not.” She said, “Let’s go to my apartment.” After arriving at her apartment she said, “Boss, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go into the bedroom and slip into something more comfortable.”
“Sure,” I excitedly replied. She went into the bedroom and, in about six minutes, she came out carrying a big birthday cake, followed by my wife, children and dozens of our friends. All were singing “Happy Birthday” and there on the couch I sat… naked.
A Post Office worker at the main sorting office finds an unstamped, poorly hand-written envelope addressed to God. He opens it and discovers it is from an elderly lady, distressed because some thief robbed her of 100 dollars. She will be cold and hungry for the rest of the month if she doesn’t receive some divine intervention.
The worker organizes a collection amongst the other postal workers, who dig deep and come up with 96 dollars. They get it to her by special courier the same morning.
A week later, the same postal worker recognizes the same hand on another envelope. He opens it and reads: “Dear God, Thank you for the 100 dollars. This month would have been so bleak otherwise. P.S. It was four dollars short but that was probably those thieving bastards at the Post Office.”
your favorite James Bond character is “Q”.
you see a good design and still have to change it.
you still own a slide rule and you know how to use it.
your family haven’t the foggiest idea what you do at work.
in college you thought Spring Break was metal fatigue failure.
you have modified your can-opener to be microprocessor driven.
you are better with a Karnaugh map than you are with a street map.
you think the real heroes of “Apollo 13” were the mission controllers.
you take a cruise so you can go on a personal tour of the engine room.
you think “cuddling” is simply an unproductive application of heat exchange.
you have owned a calculator with no equal key and know what RPN stands for.
you make four sets of drawings (with seven revisions) before making a bird bath.
you have trouble writing anything unless the paper has horizontal and vertical lines.
your ideal evening consists of fast-forwarding through the latest sci-fi movie looking for technical inaccuracies.
you think the value of a book is directly proportionate to the amount of tables, charts and graphs it contains.