I've never written to you before, but I really need your advice on what could be a crucial decision.
I've suspected for some time now that my wife has been cheating on me. The usual signs...phone rings, but if I answer, the caller hangs up. My wife has been going out with the girls a lot recently, although when I ask their names she always says, "Just some friends from work, you don't know them."
I sometimes stay awake to look out for her cab coming home, but she always comes walking up the drive as I hear the sound of a car leaving, around the corner, as if she has gotten out and walked the rest of the way. Why? Maybe she wasn't in a taxi at all?
I once picked up her cell phone, just to see what time it was. This caused her to go completely berserk. She quickly snatched the phone out of my hand and cursed me hysterically, screaming that I should never touch her personal property, then accused me of trying to spy on her.
Anyway, I have never broached the subject with my wife. I think deep down I just didn't want to know the truth, but last night she went out again and I decided to really check on her. I decided I was going to park my Harley Davidson Lowrider next to the garage and then hide behind it so I could get a good view of the street around the corner when she came home. It was at that moment, crouching behind my motorcycle that I noticed a small amount of motor oil leaking through the gasket between the rear head and rocker arm cover.
So...is this something I can easily repair myself or do you think I should take it back to the dealer?
"Hey Doc, can I ask you a question?"
The surgeon, a bit surprised, walked over to the mechanic working on the motorcycle. The mechanic straightened up, wiped his hands on a rag and asked,
"So, Doc, look at this engine. I open its heart, take valves out, fix 'em, put 'em back in and when I finish, it works just like new. So how come I get such a small salary and you get the really big bucks, when you and I are doing basically the same work?"
The surgeon paused, smiled and leaned over and whispered to the mechanic ...
"Try doing it with the engine running!"
So the guy says, "Once I was driving down the road and saw a gang of bikers assaulting this poor girl. So I pulled over, got out my car, grabbed a tire iron and walked straight up to the gang's leader--a huge ugly guy with a studded leather jacket, bald head but with hair all over his body, and a chain running from his nose to his ear.
Undaunted, I ripped the chain out of his nose and ear and smashed him over the head with the tire iron. Then I turned around and, wielding my tire iron, yelled to the rest of them, 'You leave this poor, innocent lady alone! You're all a bunch of sick, deranged animals! Go home before I teach you all a lesson in pain!'"
Impressed, St. Peter says, "Really? I can't seem to find this in your file. When did this happen?"
"Oh, about two minutes ago."
"So babe, how am I doin'?"
"You're doin' 3 "knots".
"3 knots?.... What's that mean?" replies the biker.
"You're NOT hard, you're NOT in and you're NOT getting your money back!"
There were two guys riding motorcycles on a windy afternoon.
One of the guys was complaining because the cold air was blowing into
his shirt. His buddy told him to turn his jacket around, so
that the collar of the jacket would be at his neck. That way no air
could get into his shirt. So that is what he did.
After riding for a while the two men came up on a curve. They were going too fast and they crashed. Witnesses called 911 and rushed to the motorcyclists aid.
When the police arrived, they were doing a report. The police asked a witness if both of the men were deceased when they got to the scene.
"No" the man replied, "The one man was still alive, but by the time we got his head turned around to where it was supposed to be, he was dead!
A Biker walks into a bar, he takes a seat at the bar and growls:
"Bartender! Get me a drink!" The bartender obliges, and the biker scarfs down the drink. Slamming the glass down on the bar, he growls:
"Bartender! Get me another!" The bartender pours him another drink. After a few more rounds, the bartender attempts some conversation:
"Sir, he says, it seems that you're visibly upset. What's the problem?" The biker looks at him and snorts:
"I just went home and caught my ol' lady screwing my best friend!"
"Oh man," says the bartender, that's rough... "What did you do?" The biker says:
"Well, I grabbed her by the hair, threw her out nekkid, threw her clothes out after her, and told her never EVER to come back."
"Wow," says the bartender in awe: "That's tough man, what did you do to your friend?"
"Well," says the biker, "I marched right back upstairs, I grabbed HIM by the scruff of the neck, and I said: BAD DOG."
Arthur thought about it for a minute and then said, "I want to hang out with God." St. Peter took Arthur to the throne room, and introduced him to God.
Arthur then asked God, "Hey, aren't you the inventor of woman?" God said, "Oh, yes." "Well," said Arthur, "professional to professional, you have some major design flaws in your invention:
"Well, it may be true that my invention is flawed," God said to Arthur, "but according to these numbers, more men are riding my invention then yours".