A man walked into a therapist's office looking very depressed, "Doc, you've got to help me."

"What's the problem?" the doctor inquired.

"Well, I'm 35 years old and I have no luck with the ladies. No matter how hard I try, I just seem to scare them away."

"My friend, this is not a serious problem. You just need to work on your self-esteem. Each morning, I want you to get up and run to the bathroom mirror. Tell yourself that you are a good person, a fun person, and an attractive person. But say it with real conviction. Within a week you'll have women buzzing all around you."

The man seemed content with this advice and walked out of the office a bit excited. Three weeks later he returned with the same downtrodden expression on his face. "Did my advice not work?" asked the doctor.

"It worked. For the past several weeks I've met several great women. All of them funny and charming, everything a man could ask for."

"So, what's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," the man replied. "My wife does."

Cowboy Joe was telling his fellow cowboys, back on the ranch, about his first visit to a big-city church.
"When I got there, they had me park my old truck in the corral," Joe began.

"You mean the parking lot," interrupted Charlie, a more worldly fellow.

"I walked up the trail to the gate," Joe continued.

"The sidewalk to the door," Charlie corrected him.

"Inside the door, I was met by this dude," Joe went on.

"That would be the usher," Charlie explained.

"Well, the usher led me down the chute," Joe said.

"You mean the aisle," Charlie said.

"Then he led me to a stall and told me to sit there," Joe continued.

"Pew," Charlie retorted.

"Yeah," recalled Joe. "That's what that pretty lady said when I sat down beside her."

My wife and I take turns walking our five-year-old daughter to the bus stop for school every morning. Today was my turn, and as me and all the other moms in the neighborhood waited, one of them asked me to say hello to my wife.

"I will," I said. "It'll make her feel better. She has pneumonia."

"Oh, poor girl," they all said in unison. One of them crooked her eyebrow at me and said, "I hope you're helping her with the kids, the cooking and cleaning."

"I can't," I said pointing to the band aid on my index finger. "I have a hangnail."

A retiree was given a set of golf clubs by his co-workers. Thinking he'd try the game, he asked the local pro for lessons, explaining that he knew nothing whatever of the game. The pro showed him the stance and swing, then said, "Just hit the ball toward the flag on the first green."

The novice teed up and smacked the ball straight onto the green, where it stopped inches from the hole. "Now what?" the fellow asked the speechless pro.

"Uh... you're supposed to hit the ball into the cup," the pro finally said, after he was able to speak again.

"Oh great! NOW you tell me!" said the beginner.