Tom, Dick and Harry were traveling in the desert. Arriving at a small village they could find nowhere to sleep but a strange inn whose landlord, though willing to take them in for the night, would offer only a bed of fire, a bed of nails, and a bed of fleas.
In the morning, they compared notes over breakfast. The bed of fire was awful,” said Tom. “Very uncomfortable. I didn’t sleep a wink, and I’m scorched all over.”
“I had a bad night, too,” said Dick. “That bed of nails was dreadful. I’m covered with holes.”
“I slept fine,” declared Harry. “My bed of fleas was no trouble at all. I just killed one flea and all the rest went to the funeral!”
"I hope this plane doesn't travel faster than sound," said the old lady to the stewardess.
"Why?"
"Because my friend and I want to talk, that's why."
This was one of my dad's favorite jokes:
Emmitt Smith died and went to heaven. When he got to the pearly gates, St. Peter was waiting for him and issued Emmitt an invitation to play for the HFL- the heaven football league. Emmitt thought about it for a minute and said, "Sure!"
As they walked out to the field, there was a game in progress. Emmitt was stunned. There were a lot of ex-NFL players out on that field. But what he found to be strange was that the jerseys didn't have any numbers. Instead they had letters on them. So he turned around and questioned St. Peter about the numbers. St. Peter chuckled and told him, "Up here we don't need numbers. The letters stand for the position they are playing, QB is for quarterback, WR is for wide receiver and so on." Emmitt smile and nodded his head. But as he gazed around the sidelines, he got a perplexed look on his face. On the other side of the field, there was a man wearing a jersey that had the letters TL. "St. Peter, as you know, I played football many years with the Dallas Cowboys and I am familiar with all the positions. But in all my years I have never seen the position of TL." St. Peter laughed and said, "Oh yeah, I forgot. That's just God, he likes to pretend that he is Tom Landry."
Jack met Claude in the street and noticed that Claude was carrying a small parcel.
‘Been shopping then, Claude?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Claude, “I’ve just been to the perfumery to by a present for the wife’s birthday tomorrow.” “Oh, yes?” said Jack, “what did you get her, then?”
“A bottle of toilet water. Very expensive – this little bottle cost me twenty-five dollars!”
“Twenty-five dollars for a bottle of toiler water?” said Jack in amazement. “Why don’t you come home with me? You can have all you want for nothing!”