Q: Why don't blondes eat pickles? A: They can't get their heads in the jars.
Me: If a blonde girl and brunette girl jumped off a cliff at the same time, who would hit the ground first? Friend: I don't know, who? Me: The brunnete, the blonde had to ask for directions.
There was a burning building with a redhead, a brunette, and a blonde at the top. The firemen are yelling to the redhead to jump into a blanket and she jumps off the building and right as she was about to safely hit the blanket they moved it and she dies. They yell to the brunette to jump but she says,"No I saw what you did to the redhead"! They shout we don't like redheads! So the brunette jumps and sure enough they move the blanket and she dies. Then they shout to the blonde to jump off into the blanket. But the blonde says,"no I saw what you did to them"! They shout we don't like them! The blonde then says, "I don't trust you guys, put the blanket on the ground and step back!"
Why are so many blondes rushing out to get breast implants? So they don't have to pay the flat tax.
Q. What's a blonde's idea of safe sex? A. Locking the car door.
A blonde calls her husband at work one day and asks him, "Can you help me when you get home?" "Sure," he replies. "What's the problem?" "Well, I started a really hard puzzle and I can't even find the edge pieces." "Look on the box," he said. "There's always a picture of what the puzzle is." "It's a big rooster," she said. The husband arrives home and tells his blonde wife, "Okay, put the corn flakes back in the box."
A blonde made several attempts to sell her old car. She was having a lot of problems finding a buyer because the car had 340,000 miles on it. She discussed her problem with a brunette that she worked with at a bar. The brunette suggested, "There may be a chance to sell that car easier, but it's not going to be legal." "That doesn't matter at all," replied the blonde. "All that matters it that I am able to sell this car." "Alright," replied the brunette. In a quiet voice, she told the blonde: "Here is the address of a friend of mine. He owns a car repair shop around here. Tell him I sent you, and he will turn the counter back on your car to 40,000 miles. Then it shouldn't be a problem to sell your car." The following weekend, the blonde took a trip to the mechanic on the brunette's advice. About one month after that, the brunette saw the blonde and asked, "Did you sell your car?" "No!" replied the blonde. "Why should I? It only has 40,000 miles on it."
Q: How are blondes like postage stamps? A: You lick'm, stick'em, and send'em on their way.
Q: Why did the blonde want to become a veterinarian? A: She liked kids...
Q: What's the difference between a lesbian finger-fucking a blonde and a Schwinn at the side of the road? A: One's a bike in a ditch, and the other's...