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A successful businessman flew to Vegas for the weekend to gamble. He lost the shirt off his back, and had nothing left but a quarter and the second half of his round trip ticket -- If he could just get to the airport he could get himself home. So he went out to the front of the casino where there was a cab waiting.
He got in and explained his situation to the cabbie. He promised to send the driver money from home, he offered him his credit card numbers, his drivers license number, his address, etc. but to no avail. The cabbie said (adopt appropriate dialect), "If you don't have fifteen dollars, get the hell out of my cab!" So the businessman was forced to hitch-hike to the airport and was barely in time to catch his flight.
One year later the businessman, having worked long and hard to regain his financial success, returned to Vegas and this time he won big. Feeling pretty good about himself, he went out to the front of the casino to get a cab ride back to the airport.
Well who should he see out there, at the end of a long line of cabs, but his old buddy who had refused to give him a ride when he was down on his luck. The businessman thought for a moment about how he could make theguy pay for his lack of charity, and he hit on a plan.
The businessman got in the first cab in the line, "How much for a ride to the airport," he asked? "Fifteen bucks," came the reply. "And how much for you to give me a blowjob on the way?" "What?! Get the hell out of my cab." The businessman got into the back of each cab in the long line and asked the same questions, with the same result.
When he got to his old friend at the back of the line, he got in and asked "How much for a ride to the airport?" The cabbie replied "fifteen bucks." The businessman said "ok" and off they went. Then, as the drove slowly past the long line of cabs the businessman gave a big smile and thumbs up sign to each driver.

Old Irish Poem

May You Always Be Smiling, And Never Shed A Tear

Blah Blah Blah , Blah Blah Blah

Now Let's Go Get A Beer
Author Unknown

Maria just got married, and being a traditional Italian, she was still a virgin. So, on her wedding night, staying at her mother's house, she was nervous. But her mother reassured her. "Don't worry, Maria. Tony's a good man. Go upstairs, and he'll take care of you." So up she went. When she got upstairs, Tony took off his shirt and exposed his hairy chest.

Maria ran downstairs to her mother and says, "Mama, Mama, Tony's got a big hairy chest." "Don't worry, Maria", says the mother, "All good men have hairy chests. Go upstairs. He'll take good care of you."

So, up she went again. When she got up in the bedroom, Tony took off his pants exposing his hairy legs. Again Maria ran downstairs to her mother.

"Mama, Mama, Tony took off his pants, and he's got hairy legs!" "Don't worry. All good men have hairy legs. Tony's a good man. Go upstairs, and he'll take good care of you." So, up she went again. When she got up there, Tony took off his socks, and on his left foot he was missing three toes. When Maria saw this, she ran downstairs. "Mama, Mama, Tony's got a foot and a half!"

"Stay here and stir the pasta", says the mother. "This is a job for Mama!

I thought it would be a nice idea to bring a date to my parents' house on Christmas Eve.
I thought it would be interesting for a non-Italian girl
to see how a real Italian family spends the holidays.
I thought my mother and my date would hit it off like partridges and pear trees. So, I was wrong!!! So, sue me!!!

I had only known Karen for three weeks when I extended the invitation.
"I know these family things can be a little weird," I told her, "but my folks are great, and we always have a lot of fun on Christmas Eve."
"Sounds fine to me," Karen said.
I had only known my mother for 31 years when I told her I'd be bringing Karen with me.
"She's a very nice girl and she's really looking forward
to meeting all of you."
"Sounds fine to me," my mother said.
And that was that. Two telephone calls. Two "sounds-fine-to-me." What more could I want?
I should point out, I suppose, that in Italian households, Christmas Eve is the social event of the season -- an Italian woman's day to shine. She cleans. She cooks. She bakes. She orchestrates every minute of the entire evening. Christmas Eve is what Italian women live for.
I should also point out, I suppose, that when it comes to the kind of women that make Italian men go nuts, Karen is it. She doesn't clean. She doesn't cook. She doesn't bake. AND she has the largest breasts I have ever seen on a human being.
I brought her anyway.

7p.m. -- We arrive.

Karen and I walk in and putter around for half an hour waiting for the other guests to show up. During that half hour, my mother grills Karen like a cheeseburger and quickly determines that Karen does not clean, cook, or bake. My father is equally observant. He pulls me into the living room and notes, "She has the largest breasts I have ever seen on a human being."

7:30p.m. - Others arrive.

Uncle Vito walks in with my Aunt Tessie - assorted kids - assorted gifts.
We sit around the dining room table for antipasto, a perfectly composed platter of lettuce, roasted peppers, black olives, salami, proscuitto, provolone, and anchovies.
When I offer to make Karen's plate she says,
"Thank you. But none of those things. Okay?" She points to the anchovies.
"You don't like anchovies?" I ask.
"I don't like fish," Karen announces to one and all, as 67 other varieties of foods-that-swim are baking, broiling and simmering in the next room.
My mother makes the sign of the cross. I sweat some. Seems like the thermostat has been set higher.
Aunt Tessie asks Karen what her family eats on Christmas Eve. Karen says, "Knockwurst."
My father, who is still staring in a daze, at Karen's chest, temporarily snaps out of it to murmur, "Knockers?"
My mother kicks him so hard he gets a blood clot. None of this is turning out the way I'd hoped.

8:00p.m. - Second course.

The spaghetti and crab sauce is on the way to the table. Karen declines the crab sauce and says she'll make her own with butter and ketchup.
My mother asks me to join her in the kitchen.
I take my "Merry Christmas" napkin from my lap, place it on the "Merry Christmas" tablecloth and walk into the kitchen.
"I don't want to start any trouble," my mother says calmly, clutching a bottle of ketchup in her hands. "But if she pours this on my pasta, I'm going to throw acid on her face."
"Come on," I tell her. "It's Christmas. Let her eat what she wants."
My mother considers the situation, then reluctantly nods.
As I turn to walk back into the dining room, she grabs my shoulder. "Tell me the truth," she says, "are you serious with this tramp?"
"She's not a tramp," I reply. "And I've only known her for three weeks."
"Well, it's your life", she tells me, "but if you marry her, she'll poison you."

8:30p.m. - More fish.

My stomach is knotted like one of those macramé plant hangers that are always three times larger than the plants they hold. All the women get up to clear away the spaghetti dishes, except for Karen, who, instead, lights a cigarette. At the table.
"Why don't you give them a little hand?" I politely suggest.
Karen makes a face and walks into the kitchen carrying three forks.
"Dear, you don't have to do that," my mother tells her, smiling painfully.
"Oh, okay," Karen says, putting the forks in the sink. As she reenters the dining room, a wine glass flies over her head, and smashes against the wall. From the kitchen, my mothersays, "Whoops."
I vaguely remember that line from Torch Song Trilogy. "Whoops?" No. "Whoops is when you fall
down an elevator shaft."
More fish comes out. After some goading, Karen tries a piece of
scungilli, which she describes as "slimy, like worms."
My mother winces, bites her hand and pounds her chest like one of those old women you always see in the sixth row of a funeral home. Aunt Tessie does the same.
Karen, believing that this is something that all Italian women do on Christmas Eve, bites her hand and pounds her chest. Both of her chest.
My Uncle Vito doesn't know what to make of it. My father's dentures fall out and chew a six-inch gash in the tablecloth.

10:00p.m. - Coffee, dessert.

Espresso all around. A little anisette. A curl of lemon peel. When Karen asks for milk, my mother finally slaps her in the face with cannoli.
I guess it had to happen sooner or later. Karen, believing that this is something that all Italian women do on Christmas Eve, picks up cannoli and slaps my mother with it.
"This is fun," Karen says. Fun? No. Fun is when you fall down an elevator shaft. But, amazingly, everyone is laughing and smiling and filled with good cheer -- even my mother, who grabs me by the shoulder, laughs and says, "Get this &!+@# out of my house. NOW!"

Sounds fine to me.
_____________________________

An Indiana farm wife called the local phone company to report her
telephone failed to ring when her friends called -- and that on the few occasions when it did ring, her pet dog always moaned right before the phone rang.
The telephone repairman proceeded to the scene, curious to see this psychic dog or senile elderly lady.
He climbed a nearby telephone pole, hooked in his test set, and
dialed the subscriber's house. The phone didn't ring right away, but then the dog moaned loudly and the telephone began to ring. Climbing down from the pole, the telephone repairman found,,,
1. The dog was tied to the telephone system's ground wire via a
steel chain and collar.
2. The wire connection to the ground rod was loose.
3. The dog was receiving 90 volts of signaling current when the
phone number was called.
4. After a couple of such jolts, the dog would start moaning and
then urinate on himself and the ground.
5. The wet ground would complete the circuit, thus causing the
phone to ring.
Which demonstrates that some problems CAN be fixed by pissing and
moaning.

A young man took his dad out to eat at a food court in the mall

A teenager sat at a near by table with spiked hair in multi
colors.
Dad sat staring at him ,Me I adverted my eyes and kept eating.
all of a sudden the teenager leaned forward and hollered .Old man what are you staring at.
Swolling my food quickly,I waited for dad to speak,thinking boy this is going to be good.

My Dad smiled and said"Son I got really bad drunk a long time ago
and mate-ed with a peacock and I was just wondering if you might be my son " (;=_=;} smile

I love this joke -- a threepeat on this one -- sweet.

The Stella Awards
SURE BEATS WORKING FOR A LIVING


 It's time again for the annual "Stella Awards"! For those
 unfamiliar with these awards, they are named after 81-year-old Stella
 Liebeck who spilled hot coffee on herself and successfully sued the
 McDonald's in New Mexico where she purchased the coffee. You remember,
 she took the lid off the coffee and put it between her knees while she
 was driving. Who would ever think one could get burned doing that,
 right?
  
 That's right; these are awards for the most outlandish lawsuits and
 verdicts in the U.S. You know, the kinds of cases that make you scratch
 your head. So keep your head scratcher handy.
 
  Here are the Stella's for the past year:
 
   7TH PLACE :
  
 Kathleen Robertson of Austin, Texas was awarded $80,000 by a jury of
 her peers after breaking her ankle tripping over a toddler who was
 running inside a furniture store. The store owners were understandably
 surprised by the verdict, considering the running toddler was her own
 son.
  
  6TH PLACE :
 
  Carl Truman, 19, of Los Angeles, California won $74,000 plus medical
 expenses when his neighbor ran over his hand with a Honda Accord. Truman
 apparently didn't notice there was someone at the wheel of the car when
 he was trying to steal his neighbor's hubcaps.
 
  Go ahead, grab your head scratcher.
  
  5TH PLACE :
 
  Terrence Dickson, of Bristol, Pennsylvania, was leaving a house he
 had just burglarized by way of the garage. Unfortunately for Dickson,
 the automatic garage door opener malfunctioned and he could not get the
 garage door to open. Worse, he couldn't re-enter the house because the
 door connecting the garage to the house locked when Dickson pulled it
 shut. Forced to sit for eight, count 'em, EIGHT, days on a case of Pepsi
 and a large bag of dry dog food, he sued the homeowner's insurance
 company claiming undue mental Anguish. Amazingly, the jury said the
 insurance company must pay Dickson $500,000 for his anguish. We should
 all have this kind of anguish.
  
 Keep scratching. There are more...
  
4TH PLACE :
 
  Jerry Williams, of Little Rock, Arkansas, garnered 4th Place in the
 Stellas when he was awarded $14,500 plus medical expenses after being
 bitten on the butt by his next door neighbor's beagle - even though the
 beagle was on a chain in its owner's fenced yard. Williams did not get
 as much as he asked for because the jury believed the beagle might have
 been provoked at the time of the butt bite because Williams had climbed
 over the fence into the yard and repeatedly shot the dog with a pellet
 gun.
  
 Grrrrr ... Scratch, scratch.
 
   3RD PLACE :
 
  Third place goes to Amber Carson of Lancaster, Pennsylvania because
 a jury ordered a Philadelphia restaurant to pay her $113,500 after she
 slipped on a spilled soft drink and broke her tailbone. The reason the
 soft drink was on the floor: Ms. Carson had thrown it at her boyfriend
 30 seconds earlier during an argument. What ever happened to people
 being responsible for their own actions?
 
  Scratch, scratch, scratch. Hang in there; there are only two more
 Stellas to go...
  
  2ND PLACE :
  
 Kara Walton, of Claymont, Delaware sued the owner of a night club in
 a nearby city because she fell from the bathroom window to the floor,
 knocking out her two front teeth. Even though Ms. Walton was trying to
 sneak through the ladies room window to avoid paying the $3.50 cover
 charge, the jury said the night club had to pay her $12,000....oh, yeah,
 plus dental expenses. Go figure.
 
 1ST PLACE : (May I have a fanfare played on 50 kazoos please)
  
 This year's runaway First Place Stella Award winner was Mrs.. Merv
 Grazinski, of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, who purchased a new 32-foot
 Winnebago motor home. On her first trip home from an OU football game,
 having driven onto the freeway, she set the cruise control at 70 mph and
 calmly left the driver's seat to go to the back of the Winnebago to make
 herself a sandwich. Not surprisingly, the motor home left the freeway,
 crashed and overturned. Also not surprisingly, Mrs. Grazinski sued
 Winnebago for not putting in the owner's manual that she couldn't
 actually leave the driver's seat while the cruise control was set. The
 Oklahoma jury awarded her, are you sitting down, $1,750,000 PLUS a new
 motor home. Winnebago actually changed their manuals as a result of this
 suit, just in case Mrs. Grazinski has any relatives who might also buy a
 motor home.
 
  Are we, as a society, getting more stupid...?
  

Ah - these make the rounds every few months - funny, just not true!

http://www.snopes.com/legal/lawsuits.asp