Cheatin?, Skydivin? and Punnin?
Plus marital tech support and aging gracefully.
Your cheatin' heart. . . Pioneering new ground in Diary-land, The Silver City Greek sends along a whole series of jokes on a single theme — infidelity. We don't know why this theme was on the Greek's mind, and don't want to know. We just know they all made us chuckle:
"A married man was having an affair with his secretary. One day they went to her place and made love all afternoon. Exhausted, they fell asleep and woke up at 8 p.m. The man hurriedly dressed and told his lover to take his shoes outside and rub them in the grass and dirt. He put on his shoes and drove home. 'Where have you been?' his wife demanded. 'I can't lie to you,' he replied, 'I'm having an affair with my secretary. We made love all afternoon.' She looked down at his shoes and said, 'You lying bastard! You've been playing golf!'
"A middle-aged couple had two beautiful daughters but always talked about having a son. They decided to try one last time for the son they always wanted. The wife got pregnant and delivered a healthy baby boy. The joyful father rushed to the nursery to see his new son. He was horrified at the ugliest child he had ever seen. He told his wife: 'There's no way I can be the father of this baby. Look at the two beautiful daughters I fathered! Have you been fooling around behind my back?' The wife smiled sweetly and replied: 'Not this time!'
"A woman was in bed with her lover when she heard her husband opening the front door. 'Hurry,' she said, 'stand in the corner.' She rubbed baby oil all over him, then dusted him with talcum powder. 'Don't move until I tell you,' she said. 'Pretend you're a statue.' 'What's this?' the husband inquired as he entered the room. 'Oh it's a statue,' she replied. 'The Smiths bought one and I liked it so I got one for us, too.' No more was said, not even when they went to bed. Around 2 a.m. the husband got up, went to the kitchen and returned with a sandwich and a beer. 'Here,' he said to the statue, 'have this. I stood like that for two days at the Smiths and nobody offered me a damned thing.'
"A man walked into a cafe, went to the bar and ordered a beer. 'Certainly, sir, that'll be one cent.' 'One cent?' the man exclaimed. He glanced at the menu and asked, 'How much for a nice juicy steak and a bottle of wine?' 'A nickel,' the barman replied. 'A nickel?' exclaimed the man. 'Where's the guy who owns this place?' The bartender replied, 'Upstairs, with my wife.' The man asked, 'What's he doing upstairs with your wife?' The bartender replied, 'The same thing I'm doing to his business down here.'
"Jake was dying. His wife sat at the bedside. He looked up and said weakly, 'I have something I must confess.' 'There's no need to,' his wife replied. 'No,' he insisted, 'I want to die in peace. I slept with your sister, your best friend, her best friend and your mother!' 'I know,' she replied. 'Now just rest and let the poison work.'"
Affairs of the heart? Or of the funnybone? In either case, send your stories to Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062, fax 534-4134 or email firstname.lastname@example.org.
What color is your blonde parachute? . . . It wouldn't be Desert Diary without a blonde joke — but of course readers may feel free to substitute the hair hue of their choice in this entry by Fred in the Garage:
"A blonde is watching the news with her husband when the newscaster says, 'Two Brazilian men die in a skydiving accident.'
"The blonde starts crying to her husband, sobbing, 'That's horrible! So many men dying that way!'
"Confused, he says, 'Yes dear, it is sad, but they were skydiving, and there is always that risk involved.'
"After a few minutes, the blonde, still sobbing, asks, 'How many is a Brazilian?'"
Can you spell S.O.S.?. . . Just to prove that dimwittedness knows no boundaries, we share this funny from Cardmama in the Burros — no blondes involved!
"Standing at quarters one morning whilst stationed aboard the USS Adroit, Lieutenant Montgomery was doing the muster.
"The division Chief whispered into the Lieutenant's ear, 'Sir, turn the paper over.'"
Capital pun-ishment. . . Don't say we didn't warn you! Blame the Iron Oxide Kid for this groaner:
"Most people don't know that back in 1912, Hellmann's mayonnaise was still manufactured in England. In fact, the Titanic was carrying 12,000 cases of the condiment scheduled for delivery in Veracruz, Mexico, which was to be the next port of call for the great ship after its stop in New York. For reasons of historical interest, the popularity of mayonnaise in Mexico at this time was phenomenal. This would have been the largest single shipment of mayonnaise ever delivered to Mexico. But, as we know, the great ship did not make it to New York. The ship hit an iceberg and sank, and the cargo was forever lost.
"The people of Mexico, who were fond of mayonnaise and were eagerly awaiting its delivery, were disconsolate at the loss. Their anguish was so great that they declared a national day of mourning, which they still observe to this day.
"This national day of mourning occurs each year on May 5 and is known, of course, as Sinko de Mayo."
Or we could pun instead with a French accent, for which Margie must take full responsibility for forwarding this:
"A thief in Paris planned to steal some paintings from the Louvre. After careful planning, he got past security, stole the paintings and made it safely to his van. However, he was captured only two blocks away when his van ran out of gas.
"When asked how he could mastermind such a crime and then make such an obvious error, he replied: 'Monsieur, that is the reason I stole the paintings. I had no Monet to buy Degas to make the Van Gogh."
To which Margie adds, "See if you have de Gaulle to send this on to someone else. I sent it to you because I figured I had nothing Toulouse."
You're only as old as you feel. . . This tale of love among the ruins, so to speak, comes courtesy of Ned Ludd:
"After the exam the doctor said to the elderly man, 'You appear to be in good health. Do you have any medical concerns you would like to ask me about?'
"'In fact, I do,' said the old man. 'After I have made love to my wife the first time, I am usually cold and chilly, and then, after I make love to her the second time, I am usually hot and sweaty.'
"After examining the man's elderly wife, the doctor said, 'Everything appears to be fine. Do you have any medical concerns that you would like to discuss with me?'
"The lady replied that she had no questions or concerns.
"The doctor then said to her, 'Your husband had an unusual concern. He claims that he is usually cold and chilly after making love to you the first time, and then hot and sweaty after the second time. Do you know why?'
"'Oh, that crazy old coot!' she replied. 'That's because the first time is usually in January and the second time is in August.':
Paging Nurse Ratched. . . Speaking of things medical, Toni in the Vet's Office passes along this rant:
"So I go to the doctor for my yearly physical. The nurse starts with certain basics. 'How much do you weigh?' she asks. '135,' I say. The nurse puts me on the scale. It turns out my weight is 180.
"The nurse asks, 'Your height?' '5-foot-4,' I say. The nurse checks and sees that I only measure 5-foot-2.'
"She then takes my blood pressure and tells me it is very high.
"'Of course it's high!' I scream. 'When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I'm short and fat!'"