Suddenly the redhead sneezes, and her glass eye comes flying out of its socket toward the man. He reflexively reaches out, grabs it out of the air, and hands it back to her.

“Oh my, I am so sorry,” the woman says with embarrassment as she pops her eye back in place.

“Let me buy your dinner to make it up to you,” she says.

They proceed to enjoy a wonderful dinner together, and afterwards they go to the theater followed by drinks. They talk, they laugh, she shares her deepest dreams and he shares his. She listens.

After paying for everything, she asks him if he would like to come to her place for breakfast in the morning. They had a wonderful, wonderful time.

The next morning, she cooks a gourmet breakfast with all the trimmings. The guy is amazed. Everything had been SO incredible! “You know,” he said, “You are the perfect woman. Are you this nice to every guy you meet?”

‘No,’ she replies. . .”You just happened to catch my eye.”

VS

This has, not surprisingly caused some friction and competition between the various religious orders. It’s natural that they compete for funding, prestige, and postulants.

Two young men considering a religious vocation were having a conversation. “What is similar about the Jesuit and Dominican Orders?” the one asked.

The second replied, “Well, they were both founded by Spaniards – St. Dominic for the Dominicans, and St. Ignatius of Loyola for the Jesuits. They were also both founded to combat heresy – the Dominicans to fight the Albigensians, and the Jesuits to fight the Protestants.”

“What is different about the Jesuit and Dominican Orders?” The first asked.

“Met any Albigensians lately?”

That about sums that one up. The Dominicans ensured that the Catholic church’s “catharsis” was complete. The Jesuits, on the other hand, weren’t nearly so effective.

An engineer, a psychologist, and a theologian were hunting in the wilderness of northern Canada.  Suddenly, the temperature dropped dramatically and a blizzard was upon them.

Fortunately for them, they came across an isolated cabin, far removed from any town. The three hunters had heard that the locals in the area were quite hospitable, so they knocked on the door to ask permission to shelter from the storm. No one answered their knocks, but they discovered the cabin was unlocked, so they entered.

It was a simple place — two rooms with a minimum of furniture and household equipment.  Nothing was unusual about the cabin except the stove.  It was large, pot-bellied, and made of cast-iron.  What was strange about it was its location: it was suspended in midair by wires attached to the ceiling beams.

“Fascinating,” opined the psychologist. “It is obvious that this lonely trapper, isolated from humanity, has elevated this stove so that he can curl up under it and vicariously experience a return to the womb.”

“Nonsense!” scoffed the engineer. “The man is practicing the laws of thermodynamics.  By elevating his stove, he has discovered a way to distribute heat more evenly throughout the cabin.”

“With all due respect,” interrupted the theologian, “I’m sure that hanging his stove from the ceiling has religious meaning. Fire LIFTED UP has been a religious symbol for centuries.”

The three debated the point for several hours without resolving the issue.

When the trapper finally returned, they immediately asked him why he had hung his heavy pot-bellied stove from the ceiling.

His answer was simple……… “Had plenty of wire, but not much stove pipe.”

Education is wonderful thing, but it often colors the perceptions of what passes for the intelligentsia and these elitists end up ignoring simple common sense and pragmatism, occasionally to hilarious effect.

This could, if this ritual had survived to the modern day, have led to some interesting conversations…

George Bush and Barack Obama somehow ended up at the same barber shop.

As they sat there, each being worked on by a different barber, not a word was spoken. The barbers were even afraid to start a conversation, for fear it would turn to politics.

As the barbers finished their shaves, the one who had Obama in his chair reached for the aftershave.

Obama was quick to stop him saying, “No thanks, my wife Michelle will smell that and think I’ve been in a whorehouse.”

The second barber turned to Bush and said, “How about you, sir?”

Bush replied, “Go ahead. My wife doesn’t know what the inside of a whorehouse smells like.”

Yep. It might have led to some odd exchanges indeed.

This is a bit strange since the brand is “oddly” named. It just shouldn’t call up imagery that people would find comforting in their birth control.

Trojan condoms is a pretty piss-poor name for a prophylactic. Think about it

The Trojan Horse entered through the city gates, broke open and loads of little guys came running out and ruined everybody’s day.

Definitely bad branding, but somehow Trojan condoms have overcome that and continue to be the best selling brand.

A dedicated Teamsters union worker was attending a convention in Las Vegas and decided to check out the local brothels. When he got to the first one, he asked the Madam, ‘Is this a union house?’

“No,” she replied, “I’m sorry it isn’t.”

“Well, if I pay you $100, what cut do the girls get?”

“The house gets $80 and the girls get $20,” she answered.

Offended at such unfair dealings, the union man stomped off down the street in search of a more equitable, hopefully unionized shop. His search continued until finally he reached a brothel where the Madam responded, “Why yes sir, this is a union house. We observe all union rules.”

The man asked, “And if I pay you $100, what cut do the girls get?”

“The girls get $80 and the house gets $20.”

“That’s more like it!” the union man said.

He handed the Madam $100, looked around the room, and pointed to a stunningly attractive blond.

“I’d like her,” he said.

“I’m sure you would, sir,” said the Madam.

Then she gestured to a 92-year old woman in the corner, “but Ethel here has 67 years seniority and according to union rules, she’s next.”

The shop steward was more than a little shopworn. Definitely a case of the Teamster being hoist upon his own – or his union’s own – petard.

I’m guessing his continued support for his union’s seniority policies might be a little limp.

A case in point:

The old farmer and his wife were leaning against the edge to the pigpen when his wife longingly recalled that the next week would be their golden wedding anniversary. “Let’s have a party, Joe,” she said. “Let’s kill the pig.”

Joe scratched his head. “Gee, Philomena,” he finally said, “I don’t see why the pig should take the blame for something that happened fifty years ago.”

Enjoy, but don’t blame the poor pig!

Three men died on Christmas Eve and were met by Saint Peter at the pearly gates.

“In honour of this holy season,” Saint Peter said, “you must each possess something that symbolizes Christmas to get into heaven.”

The first man fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a lighter. He flicked it on. “It represents a candle,” he said. “You may pass through the pearly gates,” Saint Peter said.

The second man reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He shook them and said, “They’re bells”. Saint Peter said, “You may pass through the pearly gates.”

The third man started searching desperately through his pockets and finally pulled out a pair of women’s panties.

St. Peter looked at the man with a raised eyebrow and asked, “And just what do those symbolize?”

The man replied with a shrug, “They’re Carol’s”.

One just has to hope that the third man hadn’t died while engaging in door-to-door Carol-ing. That’d likely be a quick ticket to St. Peter’s or Santa’s naughty list.

This is certainly sound wisdom, if not especially profound in any way.

The “wisdom” of America’s government, however, took a different approach to the Dead Horse Theory and tends towards other responses than getting off the horse’s carcass:

1. Changing riders
2. Appointing a committee to study the horse
3. Arranging trips to other countries to see how other cultures ride dead horses
4. Lowering the standards so that dead horses can be included
5. Reclassifying the dead horse as living-impaired
6. Hiring outside contractors to ride the dead horse
7. Harnessing several dead horses together to increase efficiency
8. Providing additional funding and/or training to increase dead horse’s performance
9. Doing a productivity study to see if lighter riders would improve the dead horse’s performance
10. Declaring that as the dead horse does not have to be fed, it is less costly, carries lower overhead and therefore contributes substantially more to the bottom line of the economy than do some live horses
11. Rewriting the expected performance requirements for all horses
12. Blaming some group for raising or buying an unfair number of live horses
13. Promoting the dead horse to a supervisory position.

Now I know that innovation is predicated upon thinking laterally and “outside of the box,” but has anyone ever managed to get where they were going by flogging a dead horse?

That is until very recently…

Dr. Calvin Rickson, a scientist from Texas A&M University has invented a bra that keeps women’s breasts from jiggling, bouncing up and down, and prevents the nipples from pushing through the fabric when cold weather sets in.

At a news conference, after announcing the invention, a large group of men took Dr. Rickson outside and kicked the living shit out of him.

Since this monstrosity hasn’t hit the shelves, I’m assuming that Dr. Rickson learned the lesson that American men, especially Texans, don’t cotton much to the senseless intelligentsia trying to fix what ain’t broke.