From the Rowdies in the Back of the Bus

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From the Sweetheart of Shell Knob, MO:

For all of us who are married, were married, wish you were married, wish you weren't married, or glad you never married, this is something to smile about the next time you open a bottle of wine:

Sally was driving home from one of her business trips in Northern Arizona when she saw an elderly Navajo woman walking on the side of the road.

As the trip was a long and quiet one, she stopped the car and asked the Navajo woman if she would like a ride.

With a silent nod of thanks, the woman got into the car. Resuming the journey, Sally tried in vain to make a bit of small talk with the Navajo woman.

The old woman just sat silently, looking intently at everything she saw, studying every little detail, until she noticed a brown bag on the seat next to Sally.

"What in bag?" asked the old woman.

Sally looked down at the brown bag and said, "It's a bottle of wine. I got it for my husband."

Speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder, the old woman said, "Good trade."
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From that hot Italian babe, Nancy V.: A SWEET STORY ABOUT ITALIAN COOKIES

This is for all the Italians out there, and those who are lucky enough to be married to an Italian, and even to all the friends of Italians.

An elderly Italian man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aromaof his favorite Italian anisette sprinkle cookies wafting up the stairs. Gathering his remaining strength, he lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands he crawled downstairs. With labored breath, he leaned against the doorframe, gazing into the kitchen. Were if not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven. For there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite anisette sprinkled cookies.

Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted Italian wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?

Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His parched lips parted, the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth, seemingly bringing him back to life. The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife...

"Get out of here! " she shouted, "They're for the funeral."
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From Catfish: Quotable Cops

The following were taken off of actual police car videos around the country.

#15 "Relax, the handcuffs are tight because they're new. They'll stretchout after you wear them a while."

#14 "Take your hands off the car, and I'll make your birth certificate a worthless document."

#13 "If you run, you'll only go to jail tired."

#12 "Can you run faster than 1,200 feet per second? In case you didn't know, that is the average speed of a 9mm bullet fired from my gun."

#11 "So you don't know how fast you were going. I guess that means I can write anything I want on the ticket, huh?"

#10 "Yes, Sir, you can talk to the shift supervisor, but I don't think it will help. Oh . Did I mention that I am the shift supervisor?"

#9 "Warning! You want a warning? O.K., I'm warning you not to do that again or I'll give you another ticket."

#8 "The answer to this last question will determine whether you are drunk or not. Was Mickey Mouse a cat or a dog?"

#7 "Fair? You want me to be fair? Listen, fair is a place where you go to ride on rides, eat cotton candy, and step in monkey crap."

#6 "Yeah, we have a quota. Two more tickets and my wife gets a toaster oven."

#5 "In God we trust, all others we run through NCIC."

#4 "Just how big were those two beers?"

#3 "No sir we don't have quotas anymore. We used to have quotas but now we're allowed to write as many tickets as we want."

#2 "I'm glad to hear the Chief of Police is a good personal friend ofy ours. At least you know someone who can post your bail."

And the best one . . .

#1 "You didn't think we give pretty women tickets? You're right, we don't. Sign here."
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Also from Cat, but posted for my friend Mort: Sunday Sex

A man wonders if having sex on the Sabbath is a sin because he is not sure if sex is work or play. So he goes to a priest and asks for his opinion on this question.

After consulting the bible, the priest says, " My son, after an exhaustive search, I am positive that sex is work and is therefore not permitted on Sundays."

The man thinks: "What does a priest know about sex?"

So he goes to a minister, who after all is a married man and experienced in this matter. He queries the minister and receives the same reply. Sex is work and therefore not for the Sabbath!

Not pleased with the reply, he seeks out the ultimate authority: a man of thousands of years tradition and knowledge. (In other words, he goes to a rabbi.)

The Rabbi ponders the question, then states, "My son, sex is definitely play."

The man replies, "Rabbi, how can you be so sure when so many others tell me sex is work?"

The Rabbi softly speaks, "If sex were work, my wife would have the maid do it."
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