I was walking down an alley last night, when I heard, "Help! Help!" coming from behind a dumpster. Two thugs were trying to steal an old lady's handbag, but she was putting up a hell of a fight and wouldn't let go.
I wondered if I should get involved, or keep walking and pretend I didn't see anything. I finally decided that I should help.
It didn't take the three of us very long to get her handbag.
My wife and I have very different body clocks. At sundown she is practically ready for bed. I, meanwhile, am a night owl.
Recently, after a long, hard workday, I announced around 8 p.m. that I was exhausted and ready to hit the sack. Suddenly my wife nearly leapt into my arms.
"Oh, honey," she purred into my ear, "I just love it when you talk early to me."
I tripped on my wife's bra in the bedroom, turns out it was a booby trap.
A little three-year-old boy is sitting on the toilet. His mother thinks he has been in there too long, so she goes in to see what's up. The little boy is sitting on the toilet reading a book. But about every 10 seconds or so he puts the book down, grips onto to the toilet seat with his left hand and hits himself on top of the head with his right hand.
His mother says: "Billy, are you all right? You've been in here for a while.
Billy says: "I'm fine, mommy... just haven't gone 'doody' yet."
Mother says: "OK, you can stay here a few more minutes. But Billy, why are you hitting yourself on the head?"
Billy says: "Works for ketchup!"