The Joke thread!

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Doctor John had sex with one of his patients but felt very guilty. No
matter how much he tried to forget about it, he just couldn't. The guilt
and sense of betrayal was overwhelming.

But every once in a while he'd hear an internal, reassuring voice in his
head that said: John, don't worry about it. You aren't the first medical
practitioner to have sex with one of their patients, and you won't be the
last...and you're single. Just let it go, John.

'But invariably another voice in his head would bring him back to reality,
whispering: John, you're a veterinarian, you sick *******.




 
Mom's in therapy


A psychiatrist was conducting a group therapy session with four young mothers and their small children.



'You all have obsessions, he observed.'

To the first mother, Mary, he said, 'You are obsessed with eating. You've even named your daughter Candy.'

He turned to the second Mom, Ann, 'Your obsession is with money. Again, it manifests itself in your child's name, Penny.'

He turned to the third Mom, Joyce, 'Your obsession is alcohol. This too shows itself in your child's name, Brandy.'

At this point, the fourth Mother, Kathy, quietly got up, took her little boy by the hand and whispered, 'Come on, Dick, this guy has no idea what he's talking about. Lets pick up Peter and Willy from school and go get dinner.'
 
So, my wife and I were strolling through the local Wal-Mart last night.
I see they had a case of good beer, on sale, for $10.00
I pick up the case of beer and throw it in the cart.
She looks at me and says " we don't have the money to be buying beer right now"
So I end up putting it back on the shelf.
5 minutes later while walking around she picks up a can of face cream.
I look at her and ask " how can we afford spending $20 on that!?"
She says " this is what keeps me looking beautiful for you, its a necessity"
So I say " That's what the beer does and it costs HALF as much!"
 
pain10.gif
My wife sat down on the couch next to me as I was flipping channels.
She asked, 'What's on TV?'
I said, 'Dust.'
And then the fight started...
------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- ---------

My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary.
She said, 'I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 150 in about 3 seconds.'
I bought her a scale.
And then the fight started...
------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- ---------

When I got home last night, my wife demanded that I take her someplace
expensive... so, I took her to a gas station.
And then the fight started...
------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- ---------

After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply for Social
Security. The woman behind the counter asked me for my driver's license to
verify my age. I looked in my pockets and realized I had left my wallet at
home. I told the woman that I was very sorry, but I would have to go home
and come back later. The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt'. So I opened my shirt
revealing my curly silver hair. She said, 'That silver hair on your chest is proof
enough for me' and she processed my Social Security application.
When I got home, I excitedly told my wife about my experience at the Social
Security office.
She said, 'You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten disability, too.'
And then the fight started...
------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- ---------

My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept
staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.
My wife asked, 'Do you know her?'
'Yes,' I sighed, 'She's my old girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we
split up those many years ago, and I hear she hasn't been sober since.'
'My God!' says my wife, 'who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?'
And then the fight started...
------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- ---------

I took my wife to a restaurant. The waiter, for some reason, took my order first.
"I'll have the strip steak, medium rare, please."
He said, "Aren't you worried about the mad cow?""
Nah, she can order for herself."
And then the fight started...
------------ --------- --------- ---

A woman is standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror.
She is not happy with what she sees and says to her husband,
'I feel horrible; I look old, fat and ugly.
I really need you to pay me a compliment.'
The husband replies, 'Your eyesight's damn near perfect.'
And then the fight started......
------------ --------- --------- ------

I tried to talk my wife into buying a case of Miller Light for $14.95.
Instead, she bought a jar of cold cream for $7.95.
I told her the beer would make her look better at night than the cold cream.
And then the fight started....
------------ --------- --------- --------- -----

My wife asked me if a certain dress made her butt look big. I told her not
as much as the dress she wore yesterday

and then the fight started......
------------ --------- --------- --------- ------

A man and a woman were asleep like two innocent babies.
Suddenly, at 3 o'clock in the morning, a loud noise came from outside.
The woman, bewildered, jumped up from the bed and yelled at the man
'Holy crap. That must be my husband!'
So the man jumped out of the bed; scared and naked jumped out the window.
He smashed himself on the ground, ran through a thorn bush and to his car
as fast as he could go.
A few minutes later he returned and went up to the bedroom and screamed at
the woman, 'I AM your husband!'
The woman yelled back, 'Yeah, then why were you running?'
And then the fight started.....
------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- ----

Saturday morning I got up early, quietly dressed, made my lunch, grabbed the dog,
and slipped quietly into the garage.
I hooked up the boat up to the truck, and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour.
The wind was blowing 50 mph, so I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio,
and discovered that the weather would be bad all day.
I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed.
I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a different anticipation, and whispered,
'The weather out there is terrible.'
My loving wife of 10 years replied, 'Can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that?'
And then the fight started ...
------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- ----

I asked my wife, "Where do you want to go for our anniversary? "
It warmed my heart to see her face melt in sweet appreciation.
"Somewhere I haven't been in a long time!" she said.
So I suggested, "How about the kitchen?"
And that's when the fight started....
------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- ----

My wife and I are watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire while we were in bed.
I turned to her and said, "Do you want to have sex?"
"No," she answered.
I then said, "Is that your final answer?"
She didn't even look at me this time, simply saying "Yes."
So I said, "Then I'd like to phone a friend."
And that's when the fight started....
__________________
If you can't dazzle em' with brillance; Then baffle em' with ********
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Posted: 11/25/2008 at 01:36 PM

Scientists Discover New Element, the Heaviest Yet Known to Science

Lawrence Livermore Laboratories has discovered the heaviest element yet known to science.

The new element, Governmentium (Gv), has one neutron, 25 assistant neutrons, 88 deputy neutrons, and 198 assistant deputy neutrons, giving it an atomic mass of 312.

These 312 particles are held together by forces called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called peons.z

Since Governmentium has no electrons, it is inert; however, it can be detected, because it impedes every reaction with which it comes into contact. A tiny amount of Governmentium can cause a reaction that would normally take less than a second, to take from 4 days to 4 years to complete.

Governmentium has a normal half-life of 2- 6 years. It does not decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion of the assistant neutrons and deputy neutrons exchange places.

In fact, Governmentium's mass will actually increase over time, since each reorganization will cause more morons to become neutrons, forming isodopes.

This characteristic of morons promotion leads some scientists to believe that Governmentium is formed whenever morons reach a critical concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as critical morass.

When catalysed with money, Governmentium becomes Administratium, an element that radiates just as much energy as Governmentium since it has half as many peons but twice as many morons.
 
This is long but it completely worth reading.


The Steakhouse Incident


Now, I know that there is a lot of embellishment that occurs on this group and I am aware that a small number of things are perhaps sheer fabrication, but I have a story to tell that is the absolute truth. Funniest damn thing that has ever happened to me.
A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served. Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little *******s. It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.
We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar. Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you -- in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated. Perhaps a bit too much, however.
I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food, I was in real trouble. There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first, I thought it was only gas which could have been passed in batches right at the table without to much concern. Unfortunately, that was not to be. After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress...
I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good ****, but in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal wire cutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a ****. I went to the normal stall.
In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my ass was reaching Biblical proportions.
I began "The Move."
For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that can not be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones ass toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of **** at the exact same second that ones ass is properly placed on the toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the piss stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer.
I was about half-way into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little *******s attending kids night; it was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall. Normally, I would not have been bothered by such a thing, but I had eaten so much and the pressure upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex. And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch. What happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events are a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I can.
In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end. To put a freeze frame on the situation, I was half crotched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus. Now, most of you know that vomiting takes precedence over **** no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since shitting will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death. My attention was thus diverted.
At that very split second, my ass exploded in what can only be described as a wake...you know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar. In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of **** the consistency of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my ass. But remember, I was only half-way down on the toilet at that moment. The **** wave was of such force and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initially hit the toilet seat. Then I sat down.
Recall that when that event occurred, I was already half-way to sitting anyway and had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be. Needless to say, the **** wave, though of considerable force, was not so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls, like what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of **** remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.
Now, back to the vomit...
While all the shitting was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed. OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly-opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles.
In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet.
In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in **** that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid ****. All while thick **** was spread all over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat.
And there was no ******* toilet paper.
What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left. At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.
About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help. Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to bring the car around so we could bolt immediately. Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers. And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being. She left.
The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned. Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage of just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose.
Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels. Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little ******* kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way.
When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door.
The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.


 
A frog goes into a bank and approaches the teller. He can see from her nameplate that her name is Patricia Whack.

'Miss Whack, I'd like to get a $30,000 loan to take a holiday.'

Patty looks at the frog in disbelief and asks his name. The frog says his name is Kermit Jagger, his dad is Mick Jagger, and that it's okay, he knows the bank manager.

Patty explains that he will need to secure the loan with some collateral.

The frog says, 'Sure. I have this,' and produces a tiny porcelain elephant, about an inch tall, bright pink and perfectly formed.

Very confused, Patty explains that she'll have to consult with the bank manager and disappears into a back office.

She finds the manager and says, 'There's a frog called Kermit Jagger out there who claims to know you and wants to borrow $30,000, and he wants to use this as collateral.'

She holds up the tiny pink elephant. 'I mean, what in the world is this?'

(you're gonna love this)

The bank manager looks back at her and says...

'It's a knickknack, Patty Whack. Give the frog a loan, His old man's a Rolling Stone.'


(You're singing it, aren't you? Yeah, I know you are.........)
 
A frog goes into a bank and approaches the teller. He can see from her nameplate that her name is Patricia Whack.

'Miss Whack, I'd like to get a $30,000 loan to take a holiday.'

Patty looks at the frog in disbelief and asks his name. The frog says his name is Kermit Jagger, his dad is Mick Jagger, and that it's okay, he knows the bank manager.

Patty explains that he will need to secure the loan with some collateral.

The frog says, 'Sure. I have this,' and produces a tiny porcelain elephant, about an inch tall, bright pink and perfectly formed.

Very confused, Patty explains that she'll have to consult with the bank manager and disappears into a back office.

She finds the manager and says, 'There's a frog called Kermit Jagger out there who claims to know you and wants to borrow $30,000, and he wants to use this as collateral.'

She holds up the tiny pink elephant. 'I mean, what in the world is this?'

(you're gonna love this)

The bank manager looks back at her and says...

'It's a knickknack, Patty Whack. Give the frog a loan, His old man's a Rolling Stone.'


(You're singing it, aren't you? Yeah, I know you are.........)
" LOL " CLASSIC :rofl_200:
 
A Husband and wife are shopping in their local Wal-Mart The husband
picks up a case of Budweiser and puts it in their cart.
>
> 'What do you think you're doing?' asks the wife.
>
> 'They're on sale, only $10 for 24 cans,' he replies.
>
> 'Put them back, we can't afford them,' demands the wife, and
so they carry on shopping.
>
> A few aisles further on along the woman picks up a $20 jar of face
cream
and puts it in the basket.
>
> 'What do you think you're doing?' asks the husband.
>
> 'Its my face cream. It makes me look beautiful,' replies the
wife.
>
> Her husband retorts: 'So does 24 cans of Budweiser and it's half
the price.'
>
>
>
> On the PA system:
>
>
>
> 'Cleanup needed on aisle 25, we have a husband down.
 
A Catholic guy goes to confession, says, "Bless me father for I have committed a terrible sin!"

Priest says with concern, "What did you do, my son, that was so terrible?"

Guy says, "I made love to my wife, father."

Priest, "My son, that is a perfectly normal and natural act, and is no sin at all."

Guy, "The people in Price Chopper don't agree, father!"
 
Subject: Dumb as a Box of Rocks





[FONT=arial,helvetica]This is an interesting dialog which displays the aptitude of our leaders for the last two years, and now the next four years.



[FONT=arial,helvetica] A VERY GOOD EXAMPLE OF THE KIND OF REPRESENTATION WE HAVE IN CONGRESS:

A noted psychiatrist was a guest speaker at an academic function where Nancy Pelosi happened to appear. Ms Pelosi took the opportunity to schmooze the good doctor a bit and asked him a question with which he was most at ease.

'Would you mind telling me, Doctor,' she asked, 'how you detect a mental deficiency in somebody who appears completely normal?'

'Nothing is easier,' he replied. 'You ask a simple question which anyone should answer with no trouble. If the person hesitates, that puts you on the track.'

'What sort of question?' asked Pelosi.

Well, you might ask, 'Captain Cook made three trips around the world and died during one of them. Which one?''

Pelosi thought a moment, and then said with a nervous laugh, 'You wouldn't happen to have another example would you? I must confess I don't know much about history.'

[/FONT]



[/FONT]
 
Surely this is not for real. Has to just be a joke. It is funny though...
 
HELL EXPLAINED BY CHEMISTRY STUDENT

The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term.

The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well :

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So, we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is, therefore, extinct ... leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh, my God."

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY "A"
 
Smart attendant!
A mother and her young son were flying Southwest Airlines from Kansas City to Chicago . The little boy (who had been looking out the window turned to his mother and asked, 'If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?' The mother (who couldn't think of an answer) told her son to ask the flight attendant.
So the boy went down the aisle and asked the flight attendant, 'If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?' The busy flight attendant smiled and said, 'Did your mother tell you to ask me?'
The boy said, 'Yes, she did. 'Well then, you go and tell your mother that there are no baby planes because Southwest always pulls out on time.
Have your mother explain that to you.
 
This guy had to go on a business trip and he was worried about his wife because she has had an affair before. He wanted to get her something to keep her busy so he went to a small sex shop to find something special. He asked the clerk, "I need something to keep my wife busy for the weekend when I'm away". The clerk says, "here try this. Its a magic dildo." "A magic dildo?" said the man. "Yes, All u do is say magic dildo and then an object and it will **** it." The man says "ok,magic dildo the keyhole", so the magic dildo starts bangin the keyhole. He buys the dildo and gives it to his wife and leaves. After a few hours the wife gets bored and says magic dildo my pussy. She eventually gets tired but doesnt know how to turn it off. She starts to panic so she gets in her car to drive to the hospital. A cop pulls her over for speeding and asks why she was speeding. She says. "help! magic dildo... cant stop!" The cop amused said "magic dildo my ass!"
 
POTENTIALLY AND REALISTICALLY



A young boy went up to his father and asked him, 'Dad, what is the

difference between 'potentially' and 'realistically'?'














The father thought for a moment, then answered, 'Go ask your mother if





she would sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars. Then ask your





sister if she would sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars, and





then ask your brother if he'd sleep with Brad Pitt for a million





dollars. Come back and tell me what you learn from that.'











So the boy went to his mother and asked, 'Would you sleep with Brad





Pitt for a million dollars?'





The mother replied, 'Of course I would! We could really use that money





to fix up the house and send you kids to a great University!'











The boy then went to his sister and asked, 'Would you sleep with Brad





Pitt for a million dollars?'











The girl replied, 'Oh my Gawd! I LOVE Brad Pitt I would sleep with him





in a heartbeat, are you nuts?'











The boy then went to his brother and asked, 'Would you sleep with Brad





Pitt for a million dollars?'





'Of course,' the brother replied. 'Do you know what a million bucks would buy?'











The boy pondered the answers for a few days and then went back to his dad.











His father asked him, 'Did you find out the difference between





'potentially' and 'realistically'?'









The boy replied, 'Yes, 'Potentially', you and I are sitting on three





million dollars..











But 'realistically', we're living with two hookers and a ****."
 
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