Joke #12815

The fastest, most effective way to learn about servant leadership is to take a puppy for a walk.

There were once these two blondes who were sitting around bored and alone one day. They noticed an article in the paper where they were selling bird dogs. Well they had heard that dogs make excellent companions so they went out to buy one. They brought the dog home and fell instantly in love with him. They had heard somewhere that bird dogs were smart and good at what they do. So the two blondes decided to take the dog outside and watch him do what he is was so good at doing. They tried it out a couple of times, but the blondes came off more disappointed than amazed at what the dog could do. Finally one of the blondes was sick and tired of waiting, she suddenly shouted out: "THAT’S IT! We’ll give this dog one more chance. We’ll throw him up in the air one more time and if he doesn’t fly we’re taking him back to the STORE!"

By the time a Marine pulled into a little town, every hotel room was taken. "You've got to have a room somewhere," he pleaded. "Or just a bed, I don't care where." "Well, I do have a double room with one occupant, a Navy guy," admitted the manager, "and he might be glad to split the cost. But to tell you the truth, he snores so loudly that people in adjoining rooms have complained in the past. I'm not sure it'd be worth it to you." "No problem," the tired Marine assured him. "I'll take it." The next morning the Marine came down to breakfast bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. "How'd you sleep?" Asked the manager. "Never better." The manager was impressed. No problem with the other guy snoring, then?" "Nope, I shut him up in no time." Said the Marine. "How'd you manage that?" asked the manager. "He was already in bed, snoring away, when I came in the room," the Marine explained. "I went over, gave him a kiss on the cheek, said, 'Goodnight, beautiful,' and he sat up all night watching me."

After a 2 year study, the National Science Foundation announced the following results on America's ball-related recreational preferences: The sport of choice for unemployed or incarcerated people is basketball. The sport of choice for maintenance level employees is bowling. The sport of choice for blue-collar workers is football. The sport of choice for supervisors is baseball. The sport of choice for middle management is tennis. The sport of choice for corporate officers is golf. Conclusion: The higher you rise in the corporate structure, the smaller your balls become.

Just had an argument with the manager in McDonald's. What a clown!

There was this nouveau riche blond girl, who went to the nearest Mercedes showroom with a pocketful of dollars, and came out with the latest model. Half an hour later she was back at the showroom, claiming a that the car they sold her was terrible, that she was disappointed a brand-new Mercedes would get a fault in the gearbox after 15 minutes. The management apologized and gave her a new car. Again, after half an hour she came back. The management offered her a new car, but sent along one of their engineers to see if they could figure out what the problem was. She put in the first gear...speed up...put in second...third...fourth...fifth... “And now,” she said, “for the rocket,” and threw it in reverse.

I'm not usually one to tell someone how to do their job, which is probably why my promotion to management only lasted a week.

Q: Why do police dogs lick their balls? A: To get the taste of negro out of thier mouths

A guy walks into a bar and sees a dog lying in the corner licking his balls. He turns to the bartender and says, "Boy, I wish I could do that." The Bartender replies, "You'd better try petting him first."

An Indian walks into a cafe with a shotgun in one hand and a bucket of buffalo manure in the other. He says to the waiter, "Me want coffee". The waiter says, "Sure chief, coming right up". He gets the Indian a tall mug of coffee, and the Indian drinks it down in one gulp, picks up the bucket of manure, throws it into the air, blasts it with the shotgun, then just walks out. The next morning the Indian returns. He has his shotgun in one hand and a bucket of buffalo manure in the other. He walks up to the counter and says to the waiter, "Me want coffee". The waiter says "Whoa, Tonto. We're still cleaning up your mess from the last time you were here. What the heck was that all about, anyway?" The Indian smiles and proudly says, "Me in training for upper management. Come in, drink coffee, shoot the shit, and disappear for the rest of the day."

Little Johnny: „Mom, can I get a dog at Christmas, please?"  Mother: „No, you'll be getting turkey, like every year!"