Tuesday Morning Quickies
04-09-2002, 10:22 AM
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Tuesday Morning Quickies
The owner of a drugstore arrives at work to find a man leaning heavily against a wall. The owner goes inside and asks his clerk what’s up.
“He wanted something for his cough, but I couldn’t find the cough syrup,” the clerk explains. “So I gave him a laxative and told him to take it all at once.”
“Laxatives won’t cure a cough, you idiot,” the owner shouts angrily.
“Sure it will,” the clerk says, pointing at the man leaning on the wall. “Look at him. He’s afraid to cough.”
**
The bank manager noticed the new clerk was an idiot when it came to counting money and adding up figures.
“Where did you get your financial education?” he asks.
“Yale,” replies the lad.
“And what’s your name?” asks the manager.
“Yim Yohnston.”
***
“Last night I made love to my wife four times,” the Frenchman brags, “and this morning she couldn’t stop telling me how much she adored me.”
“Last night I made love to my wife six times,” the Italian replies,” and today she said she could never love another man.”
The American remains silent, and the Frenchman smugly asks, “How many times did you make love to your wife last night?”
“Once,” says the American.
“Only once?” the Italian snorts arrogantly. “And what did she say to you this morning?”
“‘Don’t stop.’”
“He wanted something for his cough, but I couldn’t find the cough syrup,” the clerk explains. “So I gave him a laxative and told him to take it all at once.”
“Laxatives won’t cure a cough, you idiot,” the owner shouts angrily.
“Sure it will,” the clerk says, pointing at the man leaning on the wall. “Look at him. He’s afraid to cough.”
**
The bank manager noticed the new clerk was an idiot when it came to counting money and adding up figures.
“Where did you get your financial education?” he asks.
“Yale,” replies the lad.
“And what’s your name?” asks the manager.
“Yim Yohnston.”
***
“Last night I made love to my wife four times,” the Frenchman brags, “and this morning she couldn’t stop telling me how much she adored me.”
“Last night I made love to my wife six times,” the Italian replies,” and today she said she could never love another man.”
The American remains silent, and the Frenchman smugly asks, “How many times did you make love to your wife last night?”
“Once,” says the American.
“Only once?” the Italian snorts arrogantly. “And what did she say to you this morning?”
“‘Don’t stop.’”
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