Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made him what? A super callused fragile mystic plagued with halitosis.
It was October and the Indians on a remote reservation asked their new Chief if the coming winter was going to be cold or mild. Since he was a Chief in a modern society he had never been taught the old secrets. When he looked at the sky he couldn't tell what the winter was going to be like. Nevertheless, to be on the safe side he told his tribe that the winter was indeed going to be cold and that the members of the village should collect firewood to be prepared. But being a practical leader, after several days he got an idea. He went to the phone booth, called the National Weather Service and asked, "Is the coming winter going to be cold?" "It looks like this winter is going to be quite cold," the meteorologist at the weather service responded. So the Chief went back to his people and told them to collect even more firewood in order to be prepared. A week later he called the National Weather Service again. "Does it still look like it is going to be a very cold winter?" "Yes," the man at National Weather Service again replied, "it's going to be a very cold winter." The Chief again went back to his people and ordered them to collect every scrap of firewood they could find. Two weeks later the Chief called the National Weather Service again. "Are you absolutely sure that the winter is going to be very cold?" "Absolutely," the man replied. "It's looking more and more like it is going to be one of the coldest winters ever." "How can you be so sure?" the Chief asked. The weatherman replied, "The Indians are collecting firewood like crazy."
Teacher to class: Do you have an idol? Me: Yes, my dad. I worship the ground he rolls on. Teacher: Rolls? Is he in a wheelchair? Me: No, he's an alchoholic.
A skeptical anthropologist was cataloging South American folk remedies with the assistance of a tribal brujo who indicated that the leaves of a particular fern were a sure cure for any case of constipation. When the anthropologist expressed his doubts, the brujo looked him in the eye and said, "Let me tell you, with fronds like these, who needs enemas?"
Why is it that Jews like to watch pornos in reverse? They like the part when the hooker gives the money back.
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Met this girl in a club last night. I said "Do you like cocktails?". She said "I don't know, tell me one".
Here's my favorite cock tail: New Rooster An old farmer decided it was time to get a new rooster for his hens. The current rooster was doing his job okay, but he was getting on in years. And the farmer figured it wouldn't hurt anything. So he gets a young cock and and lets it loose in the barn yard. The old rooster sees the young one strutting around and he gets a little worried. So, they are trying to replace me, thinks the old rooster. I've got to do something about this. He walks up to the new bird and says,"So, your the new guy in town. I bet you think you're really hot stuff don't you? I'm not exactly ready for the chopping block yet. I bet I'm still the better bird and to prove it, I challenge you to a race around the hen house over there. We'll run around it ten times and whoever finishes first gets to have all the hens to himself." Well, the young rooster was a proud sort, and he definitely thought he was more than a match for the old guy. "You're on," said the young rooster. "And since I know I'm so great, I'll even give you a head start of half a lap. I'll still win easily," said the young cocky rooster. So, the two roosters go over to the hen house to start the race and all the hens gather around to watch. The race begins and all the hens start cheering the roosters on. After the first lap, the old rooster is still maintaining his lead. After the second lap, the old guys lead has slipped a little but he's still hanging in there. Unfortunately the old roosters lead continued to slip each time around, and by the fifth lap he just barely led the young rooster. By then the farmer had heard all the commotion. He ran into the house, got his shot gun, and ran out to the barn yard figuring a fox or something was after his chickens. When he got there, he saw the two roosters running around the hen house, with the old rooster still slightly in the lead. He immediately took his shot gun, aimed, fired, and blew the young rooster away. He walked away slowly, saying to himself.................. "Damn, that's the third gay rooster I've bought this month."