Four guys are driving cross-country together -- one from Idaho, one from Iowa, one from Florida, and the last one is from New York.

After a while the man from Idaho starts pulling potatoes from his bag and throwing them out the window. The man from Iowa asks, "What the heck are you doing?" The man from Idaho says, "Man, we have so many of these darned things in Idaho -- I'm sick of looking at them!"

A few more miles, and the man from Iowa begins pulling ears of corn from his bag and throwing them out the window. The man from Florida asks, "What are you doing?" The man from Iowa replies, "Man, we have so many of these things in Iowa -- I'm sick of looking at them!"

Inspired by the others, the man from Florida opens the car door and pushes the New Yorker out.

A woman visited a psychic of some local repute. In a dark and gloomy room, gazing at the Tarot cards laid out before her, the Tarot reader delivered the bad news: "There is no easy way to say this so I'll just be blunt: Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a violent death this year."

Visibly shaken, the woman stared at the psychic's lined face, then at the single flickering candle, then down at her hands. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself. She simply had to know.

She met the Tarot reader's gaze, steadied her voice and asked, "Will I get away with it?"

This guy wanted a boat more than anything. His wife kept refusing, but he bought one anyway. "I'll tell you what," he told her. "In the spirit of compromise, why don't you name the boat?"

Being a good sport, she accepted. When her husband went to the dock for his maiden voyage, this is the name he saw painted on the side: "For Sale"

After a long and serious operation, Lena ended up in a coma. Try as they might, the doctors just couldn't bring her out of it. When her husband Ralph came into the intensive care unit to see her, the doctors gave him the bad news.

"We just can't wake her. It doesn't look good I'm afraid," the doctor told Ralph in a quiet somber voice.

Ralph looked at Lena and with a soft trembling voice said, "But doctor, she's so young. She's only forty-five."

"Thirty-Seven," came the weak reply from Lena.