Letters from NYC

Jokes for Sgt. Hook

Because I can never refuse a request from a handsome military man, who works tirelessly defending our country and protecting it's citizens, I'm publishing a couple of jokes that got me in trouble yesterday.

Eleven people were hanging on a rope under a helicopter, ten men and one woman. The rope was not strong enough to carry them all, so they decided that one has to leave, otherwise they are all going to fall. They were not able to name that person, until the woman held a very touching speech.

She said that she will voluntarily let go of the rope, because as a woman she is used to giving up everything for her husband and kids, or for men in general, without ever getting anything in return.

As soon as she finished her speech, all the men started clapping their hands.......

There's more jokes in the extended entry. Afterwards go congratulate the good Sgt. on his upcoming achievement of his half millionth visitor.

What would you like to hear in your casket

3 friends die in a car accident and they go to orientation in heaven. They're all asked, "When you're in your casket and friends and family are mourning you, what would you like to hear them say about you?

The first guy says," I would like to hear them say that I was a great doctor and a great family man."

The second guy says, "I would like to hear that I was a wonderful husband and school teacher which made a difference in children's lives."

The last guy says, "I would like to hear them say ... Look, He's Moving!

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When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.

This idea came to me one day when I was sitting at my desk and remembered a phone call I had forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it.

A man answered, saying, "Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. May I please speak with Robin Carter?" Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me.

I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.

I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. I had transposed the last two digits of her phone number.

After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, "You're an Idiot!" and hung up.

I wrote his number down with the word 'Idiot' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer.

Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an Idiot!" It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'Idiot' calling would have to stop.

So, I called his number and said, Hi, this is John Smith from the Telephone Company. I'm just calling to see if you're interested in the Caller ID program?"

He yelled, "NO!" and slammed the phone down.

I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an Idiot!"

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for.

I hit the horn and yelled that I had been waiting for the spot. The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window, so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first Idiot, ( I had his number on speed dial ), I thought I had better call the BMW Idiot, too.

I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"

"Yes, it is."

"Can you tell me where I can see it?"

"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front."

"What's your name?" I asked.

"My name is Don Hansen," he said.

"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I'm home every evening after five."

"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes?"

"Don, you're an Idiot." Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.

Now, when I had a problem, I had two Idiots to call. But after several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be So, I came up with an idea.

I called Idiot #1.

"Hello."

"You're an Idiot!" (But I didn't hang up.)

"Are you still there?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Stop calling me," he screamed.

"Make me," I said.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Don Hansen."

"Yeah? Where do you live?"

"Idiot, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front."

He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."

I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, Idiot."

Then I called Idiot #2.

"Hello?" he said.

"Hello, Idiot," I said.

He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are!"

"You'll what?" I said.

"I'll kick your @$$," he exclaimed.

I answered, "Well, Idiot, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1802 West 34th Street, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 4 News about the gang war going down on West 34th Street.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th street.

There I saw two Idiots beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.

NOW, I feel better. Anger management really works.

Posted by Michele at October 26, 2006 02:45 PM