My dad used to manage hotels and told me this story. A businessman was staying in one in some city somewhere. Anyway, this chap was a long way from home and bored so he went out for a drink with some colleagues. On the way back to the hotel they passed a phone box (remember those?). One of his mates dived in, grabbed a card from a certain type of lady and stuffed it the chap's pocket. Cue much laughter. Anyway, once back in the room he felt a bit, er, "lonely" so he got out the card and looked at it. Without much in the way of a plan called the number. "Hello?" said the girl. "Umm, hi, I'd really like a massage." "Ok. Anything else or will that be all?" "Well, I've never done this before but I guess I was looking for something . . . more." "Sex?" "Umm, yes, I suppose so." "So a massage and sex?" "No, not a massage. Forget the massage. Just sex. I'm in Room 274 at the Holiday Inn." "I know. You've come through to reception. You need to dial 1 for an outside line."
As he was heading home from work one day on a busy freeway, Jack felt his car suddenly pulling hard to the left, quickly followed by a grinding “whomp whomp whomp” sound. Realizing his front left tire was blown, he eased the car over to the shoulder of the road, carefully got out, walked around to the back, opened the trunk, and took out his roadside safety bag. Reaching into the kit, he unfolded two mannequins - one male and one female - quickly inflated them with a cannister of compressed air, and them stood them at the rear of his car facing the oncoming traffic. The mannequins were so life like you wouldn't believe it, and more, were dressed in open trench coats that clearly exposed their full frontal nudity to every passing car. Jack then went to work changing the car’s flat tire, jacking it up to put on the spare. If you thought flares or reflective triangles might have been better in this situation, think again - traffic immediately started slowing down to a near stop and then began backing up. Everyone slowed to rubberneck, beeped their horns and pointed like crazy as they drove by, while Jack just kept on working. It wasn't long before a state trooper pulled up behind Jack’s car. He got out of his car, hitched up his holster, gave the mannequins a long hard look, then approached Jack, who was just tightening up the final lug nut on the spare. "What are you doing here sir?” the trooper growled, motioning at Jack to stand up. “On your feet where I can see you.” "My car has a flat tire officer,” Jack said calmly, standing & raising his empty hands slightly to put the trooper at ease, “and I am stopped here putting on the spare. Just about done too.” "I can see that, but what the hell are those obscene mannequins doing here by the road?!" asked the trooper, glancing back at the pair & the long and growing snarl of traffic they were causing. “Well you see officer, I am a bit of a safety nut,” Jack replied. “And as I am sure you know quite well it can be very dangerous to change a tire next to the freeway. I was taught that it is always best you make yourself visible and slow the traffic down. Those are my emergency flashers!"
Sean came home in the wee hours, reeling drunk and singing at the top of this lungs. At the end of her rope, his wife wasn’t happy at all. “Again Sean?! And just how much have you had to drink this time?” she snarled. “Oh it's nothing m'dear,” slurred Sean, "Was jush a nip or two with my mates, I promish." “I've had enough!!” she shouted, arms akimbo and staring him down. "It’s either me or the pub - which one is it?” Sean paused for a beat or two, swaying slightly, rubbing his bleary eyes and looking perplexed. Then, squinting and peering at her once more, he brightened up and mumbled... “Well of coursh it's you my love, I recognize your shweet voice!”
In 1986, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University. On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee, inspected the elephant's foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away. Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day. Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to where Peter and his son Cameron were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man. Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant. Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly. Probably wasn't the same elephant.
(For the benefit of non-British readers, in the UK a rubber is an eraser not a condom, and a curate is the most junior grade of clergyman. Now read on) A curate gets into a train compartment whose sole occupant is a bishop reading a newspaper. The bishop is of course much too grand to take notice of the curate and merely gives a nod of acknowledgment before returning to his crossword. After a while the bishop frowns, he starts to chew his pencil, and appears generally perplexed. Eventually he addresses the curate: - Young man! Can you help me with seven across? The clue is "essentially feminine". There are four letters, and the final three are UNT. The curate ponders for a moment. - Why, that'll be Aunt, Sir! - Of course, of course, what else could it possibly be! Thank you, young man. A minute or two later the bishop speaks up again. - Young man! Could you lend me a rubber?