No one wants their last words to be "Oh my God! The old gypsy woman was right..."
The old priest lay dying in the hospital. For years he had faithfully served the people of the nation’s capital. He motioned for his nurse to come near.
‘Yes, Father?’ said the nurse.
‘I would really like to see Ex prime-ministers Jean Chretien and Brian Mulroney before I die,’ whispered the priest.
‘I’ll see what I can do, Father.’ replied the nurse.
The nurse sent the request to the Prime ministers office and waited for a response. Soon the word arrived, former prime-ministers would be delighted to visit the priest. As they went to the hospital, Jean commented to Brian, ‘I don’t know why the old priest wants to see us,
but it will certainly help our images and might even get me re-elected someday.’ Brian, agreed that it was a good thing.
When they arrived at the priest’s room, the priest took Brian’s hand in his right hand and Jean’s hand in his left. There was silence and a look of serenity on the old priest’s face. Finally Brian Mulroney spoke. ‘Father, of all the people you could have chosen, why did you choose us to be with you as you near the end?’
The old priest slowly replied, ‘I have always tried to pattern my life after our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.’
‘Amen,’ said Brian.
‘Amen,’ said Jean.
The old priest continued, ‘Jesus died between two lying thieves. I would like to do the same.’
Technorati Tags: priest, Jean Chretien, Brian Mulroney, Lord, Savior, Jesus, Christ, humour, humor, jokes, comedy, funny
Hillary Clinton and her driver were cruising along a country road one evening when an ancient cow loomed in front of the car. The driver tried to avoid it but couldn’t - the aged bovine was struck and killed.
Hillary told her driver to go up to the farmhouse and explain to the owners what had happened. She stayed in the car making phone calls to lobbyists.
About an hour later the driver staggered back to the car with his clothes in disarray. He was holding a half-empty bottle of expensive wine in one hand, a rare, huge Cuban cigar in the other, and was smiling happily, smeared with lipstick.
“What happened to you,” asked Hillary? “Well,” the driver replied, “the farmer gave me the cigar, his wife gave me the wine, and their beautiful twin daughters made passionate love to me!”
“My God, what did you tell them?” asked Hillary.
The driver replied, “I just stepped inside the door and said, I’m Hillary Clinton’s driver and I’ve just killed the old cow. The rest happened so fast I couldn’t stop it.
Technorati Tags: Hillary Clinton’, old cow, humour, humor, comedy, jokes, funny, Clinton
Stolen from Ken
Technorati Tags: Bush, bumper stickers, slogans, humour, humor, politics
A lady bought a new Lexus. Cost a bundle.
Two days later, she brought it back, complaining that the radio was not working.
“Madam,” said the sales manager, “the audio system in this car is completely automatic. All you need to do is tell it what you want to listen to, and you will hear exactly that!”
She drives out, somewhat amazed and a little confused.
She looked at the radio and said “Nelson.” The radio responded, “Ricky or Willie?” Soon, she was speeding down the highway to the sounds of “On the road again”. The lady was astounded. If she wanted Beethoven, that’s what she got. If she wanted Nat King Cole, she got it.
Suddenly, at a traffic light, her light turned green and she pulled out. Off to her right, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a smallsports utility vehicle speeding toward her. She swerved and narrowly missed a head-on collision.”
“ASSHOLE,” she muttered. And, from the radio….
…”Ladies and gentlemen, The Right Honourable Steven Harper, the Prime Minister of Canada.”
It was getting a little crowded in Heaven, so God decided to change the admittance policy. The new law was that in order to get into Heaven, you had to have a really bad day on the day that you died. The policy would go into effect at noon the next day.
So, the next day at 12:01 the first person came to the gates of Heaven. The Angel at the gate, remembering the new policy, promptly asked the man, “Before I let you in, I need you to tell me how your day was going when you died.”
“No problem,” the man said. “I came home to my 25th-floor apartment on my lunch hour and caught my wife having an affair. But her lover was nowhere in sight. I immediately began searching for him. My wife was half naked and yelling at me as I searched the entire apartment.
Just as I was about to give up, I happened to glance out onto the balcony and noticed that there was a man hanging off the edge by his fingertips! The nerve of that guy!
Well, I ran out onto the balcony and stomped on his fingers until he fell to the ground.
But wouldn’t you know it, he landed in some trees and bushes that broke his fall and he didn’t die. This ticked me off even more.
In a rage, I went back inside to get the first heavy thing I could get my hands on to throw at him.
Oddly enough, the first thing I thought of was the refrigerator. I unplugged it, pushed it out onto the balcony, and tipped it over the side. It plummeted 25 stories and crushed him!
The excitement of the moment was so great that I had a heart attack and died almost instantly.”
The Angel sat back and thought a moment. Technically, the guy did have a bad day. It was a crime of passion. So, the Angel announced, “OK, sir. Welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven,” and let him in.
A few seconds later the next guy came up To the Angel’s surprise, it was Donald Trump.
“Mr. Trump, before I can let you in, I need to hear about what your day was like when you died.”
Trump said, “No problem. But you’re not going to believe this. I was on the balcony of my 26th floor apartment doing my daily exercises. I had been under a lot of pressure so I was really pushing hard to relieve my stress. I guess I got a little carried away, slipped, and accidentally fell over the side!
Luckily, I was able to catch myself by the fingertips on the balcony below mine. But all of a sudden this crazy man comes running out of his apartment, starts cussing, and stomps on my fingers. Well, of course I fell. I hit some trees and bushes at the bottom, which broke my fall, so I didn’t die right away.
As I’m laying there face up on the ground, unable to move and in excruciating pain, I see this guy push his refrigerator of all things off the balcony. It falls the 25 floors and lands on top of me, killing me instantly.”
The Angel is quietly laughing to himself as Trump finishes his story. “I could get used to this new policy,” he thinks to himself. “Very well,” the Angel announces. “Welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven,” and he lets Trump enter.
A few seconds later, Bill Clinton comes up to the gate. The Angel is almost too shocked to speak. Thoughts of assassination and war pour through the Angel’s head. Finally he says, “Mr. President, please tell me what it was like the day you died.”
Clinton says, “OK, picture this. I’m naked, inside a refrigerator……”
A Japanese physician says, “Medicine in my country is so advanced we can take a kidney out of one man, put it in another and have him looking for work in six weeks.”
A German physician says, “That is nothing, we can take a lung out of one person, put it in another and have him looking for work in four weeks.”
A British physician says, “In my country, medicine is so advanced we can take half of a heart out of one person, put it in another and have them both looking for work in two weeks.”
The Texas physician, not to be outdone, says, “You guys are way behind. We took a man with no brains out of Texas, put him in the White House and now half the country is looking for work.”
We all know that it is a sin for an Islamic male to see any woman other than his wife naked, and that he must commit suicide if he does.
So next Sunday at 4:00 PM Eastern time, all Australian women are asked to walk out of their house completely naked to help weed out any neighborhood terrorists. Circling your block for one hour is recommended for this anti-terrorist effort.
All men are to position themselves in lawn chairs in front of their house to prove they are not terrorists, and to demonstrate that they think it’s okay to see nude women other than their wife and to show support for all Australian women.
And since the Koran also does not approve of alcohol, a cold six-pack at your side is further proof of your anti-terrorist sentiment.
The Australian Government appreciates your efforts to root out terrorists and applauds your participation in this anti terrorist activity.
God bless Australia
The United States Postal Service has created a stamp with a picture of President George W. Bush to honour his first term achievements.
Unfortunately, the stamp has not been sticking to the envelopes. This has enraged the President, who has demanded a full investigation into the matter. After a month of testing, a special Presidential Commission has made the following findings:
1. The stamp is in perfect order.
2. There is nothing wrong with the applied adhesive.
3. People are just spitting on the wrong side.
Three surgeons were chatting at a medical conference. The English surgeon explained, “We had a chap caught in a printing press at a factory last year. All that was left of him was his little finger. Our team of surgeons constructed a new hand and built a new arm, engineered a new body and ultimately, when he returned to the workforce, he was so efficient that he put 5 people out of work.”
“That’s nothing,” said the American surgeon. “We had a worker trapped inside a nuclear reactor and all that was left of her was her hair. We constructed a new skull, a new torso, new limbs and put her back in the work force. She is now so efficient she has put 50 people out of work.”
The British Columbian surgeon was not to be outdone. “I was walking down the street when a fart wafted past. I took it back to the hospital in a garbage bag, let it loose on the table and we got to work. First o all, we wrapped an anus around it, built a bum on it, attached a body to one end, legs to another. And gradually it turned into Gordon Campbell. He put the whole province out of work.”
The President of the United States of America, George W. Bush had a heart attack and died.
He went to hell where the devil was waiting for him. “I don’t know what to do here,” says the devil.
“You’re on my list but I have no room for you, but you definitely have to stay here, so I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’ve got 3 people here who weren’t quite as bad as you. I’ll let one of them go, but you have to take their place. I’ll even let YOU decide who leaves.”
George thought that sounded pretty good, so he agreed.
The devil opened the first room. In it was former President Richard Nixon and a large pool of water. He kept diving in and surfacing gasping for air, then immediately diving back into the water again over and over and over. Such was his fate in hell.
“No!” George said. “I don’t think so. I’m not a good swimmer and I don’t think I could do that all day long.”
The devil let him to the next room. In it was British Prime Minister Tony Blair with a sledgehammer and a room full of rocks. All he did was swing that hammer, time after time after time.
“No way, I’ve got this problem with my shoulder. It would be constant agony if all I could do was break rocks all day!” commented George.
The devil opened a third door. In it, George saw former President Bill Clinton lying naked on the floor with his arms staked over his head and his legs in a spread eagle pose.
Bent over him was Monica Lewinsky, doing what she does best.
George Bush looked at this in disbelief for awhile and finally said, “Yeah I could handle this.”
The devil smiled and said . . . “Monica, you’re free to go!”
CLASSIC VERSION:
The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks he’s a fool, and laughs and dances and plays the summer away. Come winter, the ant is warm and well fed. The shivering grasshopper has no food or shelter, so he dies out in the cold.
THE END
THE CANADIAN VERSION:
The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks he’s a fool, and laughs and dances and plays the summer away. Come winter, the ant is warm and well fed. So far, so good, eh?
The shivering grasshopper calls a press conference and demands to know why the ant should be allowed to be warm and well fed while others less fortunate, like him, are cold and starving.
The CBC shows up to provide live coverage of the shivering grasshopper, with cuts to a video of the ant in his comfortable warm home with a table laden with food.
Canadians are stunned that in a country of such wealth, this poor grasshopper is allowed to suffer so while others have plenty.
The NDP, the CAW and the Coalition Against Poverty demonstrate in front of the ant’s house. The CBC, interrupting an Inuit cultural festival special from Nunavut with breaking news, broadcasts them singing “We Shall Overcome.”
Jack Layton rants in an interview with Mike Duffy that the ant has gotten rich off the backs of grasshoppers, and calls for an immediate tax hike on the ant to make him pay his “fair share”.
In response to polls, the Liberal Government drafts the Economic Equity and Grasshopper Anti-Discrimination Act, retroactive to the beginning of the summer.
The ant’s taxes are reassessed, and he is also fined for failing to hire grasshoppers as helpers.
Without enough money to pay both the fine and his newly imposed retroactive taxes, his home is confiscated by the government.
The ant moves to the US, and starts a successful agribiz company.
The CBC later shows the now fat grasshopper finishing up the last of the ant’s food, though spring is still months away, while the government house he is in, which just happens to be the ant’s old house, crumbles around him because he hasn’t bothered to maintain it.
Inadequate government funding is blamed, Bob Rae is appointed to head a commission of enquiry that will cost $10,000,000.
The grasshopper is soon dead of a drug overdose, the Toronto Star blames it on the obvious failure of government to address the root causes of despair arising from social inequity.
The abandoned house is taken over by a gang of immigrant spiders, praised by the government for enriching Canada’s multicultural diversity, who promptly set up a marijuana grow op and terrorize the community.
THE END
Donald Rumsfeld is giving the president his daily briefing. He concludes by saying: “Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed.”
“OH NO!” Bush exclaims. “That’s terrible!”
His staff sits stunned at this display of emotion, nervously watching as the President sits, head in hands.
Finally, Bush looks up and asks, “How many is a brazillion?”
I hesitate on this one - depends on your politics
President Bush and Rumsfeld are sitting in a bar.
A guy walks in and asks the barman, “Isn’t that Bush and Rumsfeld sitting over there?”
The bartender says, “Yep, that’s them.”
So the guy walks over and says, “Wow, this is a real honor! . What are you guys doing in here?”
Bush says, “We’re planning WW III.”
And the guy says, “Really? What’s going to happen?”
Bush says, “Well, we’re going to kill 140 million Muslims and one blonde with big tits.”
The guy exclaimed, “A blonde with big tits? Why kill a blonde with big tits?”
Bush turns to Rumsfeld and says, “See, I told you no one cares about the 140 million Muslims”.
The Washington Post runs a weekly contest in its Style section called the “Style Invitational”. The requirements recently were to use the two names Lewinsky (The Intern) and Kaczynski (the Unabomber) in the same limerick.
The following winning entries were (supposedly) printed in the newspaper:
Third place:
There once was a gal named Lewinsky
Who played on a flute like Stravinsky
‘Twas “Hail to the Chief”
On this flute made of beef
That stole the front page from Kaczynski.
Second place:
Said Clinton to young Ms. Lewinsky,
“We don’t want to leave clues like Kaczynski,
Since you made such a mess,
Use the hem of your dress
And please wipe that stuff off of your chinsky.”
And the winning entry:
Lewinsky and Clinton have shown
What Kaczynski must surely have 4 known
That an intern is better
Than a bomb in a letter
When deciding how best to be blown.
On behalf of Canadians everywhere, I’d like to offer an apology to the United States of America. We haven’t been getting along very well recently, and for that, I am truly sorry.
I’m sorry we called George Bush a moron. He is a moron, but it wasn’t nice of us to point it out. If it’s any consolation, the fact that he’s a moron shouldn’t reflect poorly on the people of America. After all, it’s not like you actually elected him.
I’m sorry about our softwood lumber. Just because we have more trees than you doesn’t give us the right to sell you lumber that’s cheaper and better than your own.
I’m sorry we beat you in Olympic hockey. In our defense, I guess our excuse would be that our team was much, much, much, much better than yours.
I’m sorry we burnt down your white house during the war of 1812. I notice you’ve rebuilt it! It’s Very Nice.
I’m sorry about your beer. I know we had nothing to do with your beer but, we Feel your Pain.
I’m sorry about our waffling on Iraq. I mean, when you’re going up against a crazed dictator, you wanna have your friends by your side. I realize it took more than two years before you guys pitched in against Hitler, but that was different. Everyone knew he had weapons.
And finally on behalf of all Canadians, I’m sorry that we’re constantly apologizing for things in a passive-aggressive way which is really a thinly veiled criticism.
I sincerely hope that you’re not upset over this. We’ve seen what you do to countries you get upset with.
Thank You
Canada
President George Bush is visiting an elementary school today and he visits one of the classes.
They are in the middle of a discussion related to words and their meanings. The teacher asks the President if he would like to lead the class in the discussion of the word, “tragedy.”
So the illustrious leader asks the class for an example of a “tragedy.”
One little boy stands up and offers, “If my best friend, who lives next door, is playing in the street and a car comes along and runs him over, that would be a tragedy.”
“No,” says Bush, “that would be an ACCIDENT.”
A little girl raises her hand: “If a school bus carrying 50 children drove off a cliff, killing everyone involved, that would be a tragedy.”
“I’m afraid not,” explains Mr. President. “That’s what we would call a GREAT LOSS.”
The room goes silent. No other children volunteer. President Bush searches the room.
“Isn’t there someone here who can give me an example of a tragedy?”
Finally, way in the back of the room, little Johnny raises his hand. In a quiet voice he says, “If Air Force One, carrying Mr. & Mrs. Bush, were struck by a missile and blown up to smithereens, by a terrorist like Osama bin Laden, that would be a tragedy.”
“Fantastic,” exclaims Bush, “that’s right. And can you tell me WHY that would be a TRAGEDY?”
“Well,” says the boy, “because it wouldn’t be an accident, and it certainly wouldn’t be a great loss.”
A Marine squad was marching north of Basra when they came upon an insurgent soldier badly injured and unconscious. Nearby, on the opposite side of the road, was an American Marine in a similar but less serious state. The Marine was conscious and alert. As first aid was given to both men, the Marine was asked what had happened.
The Marine reported, “I was heavily armed and moving north along the highway and coming south was a heavily armed insurgent. Seeing each other we both took cover. I yelled to him that Saddam Hussein was a miserable low-life scumbag, and he yelled back that George Dubya is a rich, good-for-nothing stupid piece-of-shit.”
“We were standing there shaking hands when a truck hit us.”
So many people are surprised that we are running short of oil here in Canada. Well, there’s a very simple answer. Nobody bothered to check the oil. We just didn’t know we were getting low. The reason for that is purely geographical.
Our oil is located in:
BUT
Our dipsticks are located in Ottawa.
After numerous rounds of “We don’t even know if Osama is still alive,” Osama himself decided to send George W. a letter in his own handwriting to let him know he was still in the game.
Bush opened the letter and it appeared to contain a coded message: 370HSSV-0773H Bush was baffled, so he e-mailed it to Colin Powell.
Colin and his aide had no clue either so they sent it to the FBI. No one could solve it so it went to the CIA, and then to the NSA, then to the Secret Service.
With no clue as to it’s meaning, they eventually asked Canada’s RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police) for help. The RCMP cabled the White House as follows: “Tell the President he is looking at the message upside down”
During a recent staff meeting in Heaven, God, Moses, and Saint Peter concluded that the behavior of Ex-President Clinton has brought about the need for an eleventh commandment. They worked long and hard in a brain-storming session to try to settle on the wording of the new commandment, because they realized that it should have the same style, majesty and dignity as the original ten. They began their brain-storming and came up with the 11th.
After many revisions, they finally agreed that the eleventh commandment should be:
“Thou shalt not comfort thy rod with thy staff.”
During a visit to the mental asylum the Minister of Health asked the director for the criteria to institutionalize a patient.
“Well,” said the director, “we fill up a bath tub, we offer a teaspoon and a tea cup to the patient, and we ask the patient to empty the bathtub.”
“Oh, I understand,” said the Minister, “a normal person would choose the teacup as it is larger than the spoon.”
“No,” answered the director of the asylum slowly, “A normal person would pull the plug.”