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JOKE OF THE DAY
Teens have their texting codes (LOL, OMG, TTYL, etc.).
Not to be outdone by these little SNK (snotty nosed kids), now, finally we long-suffering seniors have our own texting codes!
Texting for Seniors as follows:
ATD - At the Doctor's
BFF - Best Friend's Funeral
BTW - Bring the Wheelchair
BYOT - Bring your own teeth
CBM - Covered by Medicare
CUATSC - See You at the Senior Center
DWI - Driving While Incontinent
FWBB - Friend with Beta Blockers
FWIW - Forgot Where I Was
FYI - Found Your Insulin
GGPBL - Gotta Go, Pacemaker Battery Low
GHA - Got Heartburn Again
IMHO - Is My Hearing-Aid On?
LMDO - Laughing My Dentures Out
LOL - Living on Lipitor
OMMR - On My Massage Recliner
ROFL..CGU - Rolling on the Floor Laughing...Can't get Up!
TOT - Texting on Toilet
TTYL - Talk to You Louder
WTP - Where are the Prunes
WWNO - Walker Wheels Need Oil
Hope these help!
GGLKI - Gotta Go, Laxative Kicking In
Todd Sabo
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BLONDE JOKE
A blonde goes into a store, she goes over to the deodorant display and tells the clerk "I need to buy some deodorant for my husband."
"Does he use the ball kind?" inquired the clerk.
"No," replied the blonde, "The kind for under his arms."
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GOLF JOKE
My wife said to me, “Jere it’s about time you learned to play golf, that’s the game where you chase a ball all over the country, when you are too old to chase women.”
So I went to see Bob and asked him if he could teach me to play.
Bob said, “sure, you’ve got some balls, haven’t you?”
I said “sure, but sometimes on cold mornings they are hard to find.”
“Bring them to the clubhouse tomorrow,” Bob said, “and we’ll tee off.”
“What’s tee off?” I asked.
Bob said “it’s a golf term, and we have to tee off in front of the clubhouse.”
“Not for me,” I said, “you can tee off there if you want to, but I will tee off behind the barn somewhere,”
“No, no,” Bob said, “A tee is a little thing about the size of your little finger.”
“Yeah, I’ve got one of those.”
“Well,” Bob said, “you stick it in the ground and put your ball on top of it.”
I asked, do you play golf sitting down? I always thought you stood up and walked around.”
“You do,” Bob said, “you are standing up when you put your ball on the tee.”
Well, right there I thought that was stretching things a little bit too far and I told him so.
Bob said, “you’ve got a bag haven’t you?”
“Of course,” I told him.
“Well,” he said “can’t you open your bag and take one out?”
“Well,” I said. “I suppose I could, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to.”
Bob asked me if I didn’t have a zipper on my bag, and I told him no, I’m the old fashioned type. Then he asked me if I knew how to hold my club. Well after 50 years I should have some sort of an idea, and I told him so!!!
He said, “you take your in both hands....” Well, right there, I knew he didn’t know what he was talking about.
Then he said, “you swing your club over your shoulder.”
“No, no, that’s not me that’s my brother you are talking about.”
He asked me, “how do you hold your club?”
Before I thought, I said, “with 2 fingers!”
Bob said that wasn’t right, and got behind me and put both arms around me and told me to bend over and he would show me how. He couldn’t catch me there, because I didn’t put four years in the Navy for nothing!
Bob said, “ you hit the ball with your club and it will soar and soar.”
And I said, “I can well imagine.”
Then Bob said, “and when you are on the green.....”
“What’s the green?” I asked.
“That’s where the hole is,” Bob said.
“Sure you aren’t color blind?” I asked.
“No, then you take your putter....”
“What’s your putter?” I asked.
“That’s the smallest club made,” he said.
That’s what I’ve got, a putter!!!
“And with it, “ Bob said, “you put your ball in the hole.”
I corrected him, “you mean the putter?”
Bob said, “The ball, the hole isn’t big enough for the ball and the putter too.”
Well, I’ve seen holes big enough for the ball and the putter too!
Then Bob said, “after you finish the first hole, you go on to the next seventeen.”
He wasn’t talking to me. After two holes I’m shot to hell.
“You mean,” he said, “You can’t make eighteen holes in one day?”
“Hell no! It takes me eighteen days to make one hole! Besides, how do I know when I’m on the eighteenth hole?”
Then Bob said, “The flag will go up.”
THAT WOULD BE JUST MY LUCK!!!!!
Submitted by: E. Price M.D.
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JEWISH JOKE
Subject: Oy ~Vay
Mrs. Yetta Rosenberg gets off the plane in Miami and, being tired from the flight, goes to the first hotel she sees in order to get a room. She walks up to the desk and tells the clerk, 'I'm Mrs. Yetta Rosenboig, and I desire a room for de night.'
The clerk looks disdainfully at her and coldly says, 'I'm sorry, madam, but our hotel is completely booked.'
Just then, a man with his suitcase in hand, drops his key and a check at the desk, and heads for the door.
'Oy, vot luck, says Mrs. Rosenberg. 'I can take his room.'
'I'm sorry, madam,' says the clerk, 'but I thought you understood my meaning. To be blunt, we do not cater to Jews.'
'Jews?' exclaims Mrs. Rosenberg. 'So, who's a Jew? I'm a Cat'lic.'
In obvious disbelief, the clerk asks her, 'If you're a Catholic, then answer this question: Who is the Son of G-d?'
'Dot's easy,' says Mrs. Rosenberg, 'Jesus Christ.'
The clerk, still not convinced, then asks, 'Who was Jesus' mother and father?'
'Mary and Joseph,' replies Mrs. Rosenberg , testily.
Then the clerk asks, 'And where was Jesus born?'
'In a manger in a barn,' answers Mrs. Rosenberg, becoming agitated.
'And why was Jesus born in a manger in a barn?' asks the clerk.
''Cause a shmock like you vouldn't rent a room to Jews!!!'
Submitted by: Dave Gasway
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LAWYER JOKE
What should you do if you find a lawyer buried up to his neck in cement?
Get more cement.
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CLASSIC JOKE
For many of you this advice should really open your eyes concerning your relationship with your significant other after retirement.
ADVICE FROM A RETIRED HUSBAND:
It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are oversensitive, and there's nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.
My name is Ron. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Susie. When I retired a few years ago, it became necessary for Susie to get a full-time job along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed. Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf club about the same time she gets home from work.
Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door. She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner.
I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.
Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.
When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half-finished mowing the yard. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.
I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Susie. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.
Signed,
RON
EDITOR'S NOTE:
Ron died suddenly on February 7 of a perforated rectum. The police report says he was found with a Calloway extra-long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club jammed up his rear end, with barely 5 inches of grip showing, and a sledge hammer laying nearby. His wife Susie was arrested and charged with murder. The all-woman jury took only 10 minutes to find her Not Guilty, accepting her defense that Ron, somehow without looking, accidentally sat down on his golf club.
submitted by: Renee Andert
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USEFUL INFORMATION
" History of "Taps"
I've never heard this story, but history and music buffs (and others) will be moved by it. We have all heard the haunting song, "Taps." It's the song that gives us that lump in our throats and usually creates tears in our eyes. But, do you know the story behind the song? If not, I think you will be pleased to find out about it's humble beginnings.
Reportedly, it all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land. During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moans of a soldier who lay severely wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment. When the Captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead. The Captain lit a lantern and suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, the boy enlisted in the Confederate Army. The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial despite his enemy status. His request was only partially granted. The Captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for his son at the funeral. The request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate. But, out of respect for the father, they did say they could give him only one musician. The Captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of the dead youth's uniform. This wish was granted. The haunting melody, we now know as "Taps" used at military funerals, was born.
Day is done
Gone the sun
From the Lakes
From the hills
From the sky.
All is well,
Safely rest.
G-D is nigh.
Fading light
Dims the sight
And a star
Gems the sky,
Gleaming bright
From afar,
Drawing nigh,
Falls the night.
Thanks and praise,
For our days,
Neath the sun,
Neath the stars,
Neath the sky,
As we go,
This we know,
G-d is nigh.
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