I urgently needed a few days off work, but, I knew the Boss would not allow me to take leave. I thought that maybe if I acted 'Crazy' then he would tell me to take a few days off. So I hung upside-down on the ceiling and made funny noises. My co-worker (who's blonde) asked me what I was doing. I told her that I was pretending to be a light bulb so that the Boss might think I was 'Crazy' and give me a few days off. A few minutes later the Boss came into the office and asked, 'What in the name of good GOD are you doing?'
I told him I was a light bulb. He said, 'You are clearly stressed out.' Go home and recuperate for a couple of days.' I jumped down and walked out of the office... When my co-worker (the blonde) followed me, the Boss asked her, '..And where do you think you're going?!'
A minister dies and, resplendent in his clerical collar and colorful robes, waits in line at the Pearly Gates. Just ahead of him is a guy dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket, and jeans.
Saint Peter addresses this guy, "Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?"
The guy replies, "I'm Joe Green, taxi-driver, of Noo Yawk City."
Saint Peter consults his list, smiles and says to the taxi-driver, "Take this silken robe and golden staff, and enter into the Kingdom."
So the taxi-driver enters Heaven with his robe and staff, and the minister is next in line. Without being asked, he proclaims, "I am Michael O'Connor, head pastor of Saint Mary's for the last forty-three years."
Saint Peter consults his list and says, "Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven."
"Just a minute," says the preacher, "that man was a taxi-driver, and you issued him a silken robe and golden staff. But I get wood and cotton. How can this be?"
"Up here, we go by results," says Saint Peter. "While you preached, people slept -- while he drove, people prayed."
The other night I was invited out for a night with the 'girls'. I told my husband that I would be home by midnight, 'I promise!' Well, the hours passed and the margaritas went down way too easily. Around 3 am, a bit loaded, I headed for home. just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hallway started up and cuckoo-ed 3 times. Quickly, realizing my husband would probably wake up, I cuckoo-ed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution, in order to escape a possible conflict with him. (Even when totally smashed.... 3 cuckoos plus 9 cuckoos total 12 cuckoos = MIDNIGHT!) The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in? I told him 'MIDNIGHT'... he didn't seem pissed off in the least. Whew, I got away with that one! Then he said 'We need a new cuckoo clock!' When I asked him why, he said, 'Well, last night our clock cuckoo-ed three times, then said 'oh shit', cuckoo-ed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckoo-ed another three times, giggled, cuckoo-ed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table."