A therapist has a theory that couples who make love once a day are the happiest. So he tests it at a seminar by asking those assembled, “How many people here make love once a day?” Half the people raise their hands, each of them grinning widely. “Once a week?” A third of
the audience members raise their hands, their grins a bit less vibrant. “Once a month?” A few hands tepidly go up. Then he asks, “OK, how about once a year?”
One man in the back jumps up and down, jubilantly waving his hands. The therapist is shocked—this disproves his theory. “If you make love only once a year,” he asks, “why are you so happy?”
The man yells, “Today’s the day!”
To avoid taking down my Christmas lights, I’m turning my house into an Italian restaurant.
Patrick McLellan (@pmclellan)
Why do dogs always race to the door when the doorbell rings? It’s hardly ever for them.
I spend three minutes every
day choosing a TV channel
to leave on for my dog. Then
I go to work, and people take me seriously as an adult.
Librarians may be shy, but
their patrons aren’t. Look at their oddball requests:
A patron offered me $100 to steal
a cactus from somebody’s yard.
A patron wanted me to find a
book to teach her dog German.
A patron on his way to the casino asked to rub my red hair for luck.
A patron once asked me for my home phone number so she could call me with reference questions when I wasn’t at work.
Roz Warren, from womensvoicesforchange.org
When my coworker answered his phone, the confused woman on the other end asked, “Who is this?”
“This is Steve. With whom did you wish to speak?”
After a pause: “Did you just say whom?”
“Yes, I did.”
The woman replied, “I have the wrong number,” and hung up.
Gilding the lily is a job seeker’s birthright. Here are a few doozies, where the applicant claimed …
… to be a former CEO of the company to which he was applying.
… to be fluent in two languages—one of which was pig Latin.
… to be a Nobel Prize winner.
… to have worked in a jail when he was really in there serving time.
… he was fired “on accident.”
Scene: A conversation with my friend’s father, who knows I do
Father: I have a business idea. How hard is it to make a Facebook?
Me: Oh, very easy.
Friend: He doesn’t mean to make
a Facebook profile. He means to
remake all of Facebook.
Me: Oh. Very hard.
Father: Oh, OK.
After i-messaging back and forth with my wife, I jokingly commanded Siri to pass along this message: “You need to get back to work now; you have a husband to support.”
Here’s what Siri sent: “You need
to get back to work now; you have
a has-been to support.”
John Brown, Jenks, Oklahoma
These words are so joining our vocabulary in 2016!
Chairdrobe (n.): piling clothes on
a chair in place of a closet or dresser.
Epiphanot (n.): an idea that seems like an amazing insight to the conceiver but is in fact pointless, mundane, stupid, or incorrect.
Internest (n.): the cocoon of blankets and pillows you gather around yourself while spending long periods of time on the Internet.
Textpectation (n.): the anticipation felt when waiting for a response to
Unkeyboardinated (adj.): when you’re unable to type without repeatedly making mistakes.
My greatest acting performance is when I check the caller ID, then adopt an air of polite curiosity as
I answer the phone “Hello?”
A Twitter exchange between an angry customer and an apologetic Domino’s Pizza:
Customer: Yoooo I ordered a Pizza
& Came with no Toppings on it or anything, Its Just Bread
Domino’s: We’re sorry to hear about this!
Customer (minutes later): Never mind, I opened the pizza upside down :/
Sick of having to go to two
different huts to buy pizza and sunglasses.
The closest I’ve been to a diet this year is erasing food searches from my browser history.
If you think
eggplant is good, you should try any other food; it’s much better.
Triscuit is the perfect
combination of cracker and doormat.
Clif Bars answer the question “What if it wasn’t frowned upon to eat an entire sleeve of mushed-up
oatmeal cookies before noon?”
I’m driving with this guy, and
he runs right through a Stop sign. So
I say, “Hey, that was a Stop sign.” And he says, “I drive like my brother!”
A few blocks later, he plows right through a red light. I say, “You just ran a red light.” And he says, “I drive like my brother!”
So now we’re coming up on a green light, and he slows down. I’m confused, so I say, “It’s green; why are you slowing down?”
He says, “My brother might be coming.”
My friends tell me that cooking is easy, but it’s not easier than not cooking.
We’ve been neighbors for six tumultuous years. When you borrowed my snowblower, you returned it in pieces. When I was sick, you blasted Metallica. And when your dog decorated my lawn, you laughed. I could go on, but I’m not one to hold grudges. So I am writing this letter to tell you that your house is on fire.
Submitted by Edward Phillips,
Boynton Beach, Florida