A new employee is hired at the Tickle Me Elmo factory. The personnel manager explains her duties, and tells her to report to work promptly at 8:00 AM . The next day at 8:45AM, there's a knock at the personnel manager's door. The assembly line foreman comes in and starts ranting about this new employee . He says she's incredibly slow, and the whole line is backing up. The foreman takes the personnel manager down to the factory floor to show him the problem. Sure enough, Elmos are backed up all over the place . At the end of the line is the new employee. She has a roll of the material used for the Elmos and a big bag of marbles. They both watch as she cuts a little piece of fabric, wraps it around two marbles, and starts sewing the little package between Elmo's legs. The personnel manager starts laughing hysterically. After several minutes, he pulls himself together, walks over to the woman, and says, "I'm sorry, I guess you misunderstood me yesterday. Your job is to give Elmo two test tickles."
A man and a woman were sitting beside each other in the first class section of an airplane. The woman sneezed, took out a tissue, gently wiped her nose, then visibly shuddered for ten to fifteen seconds.
The man went back to his reading. A few minutes later, the woman sneezed again, took a tissue, wiped her nose, then shuddered violently once more.
Assuming that the woman might have a cold, the man was still curious about the shuddering. A few more minutes passed when the woman sneezed yet again. As before she took a tissue, wiped her nose, her body shaking even more than before. Unable to restrain his curiosity, the man turned to the woman,
"I couldn't help but notice" he said, "that you've sneezed three times, wiped your nose and then shuddered violently. Are you ok?"
"I am sorry if I disturbed you," she replied. "I have a very rare medical condition; whenever I sneeze I have an orgasm."
The man, more than a bit embarrassed, was still curious.
"I have never heard of that condition before" he said. "Are you taking anything for it?"
An attractive blonde from Cork arrived and bet twenty-thousand dollars
> on a single roll of the dice, at the casino. She said, "I hope you don't
> mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm completely nude". With that, she
> stripped from the neck down, rolled the dice and yelled, "Come on, baby,
> Mama needs new clothes!" As the dice came to a stop, she jumped up and
> down and squealed..."YES! YES! I WON, I WON!"
> She hugged each of the dealers and then picked up her winnings and her
> clothes and quickly departed. The dealers stared at each other
> dumbfounded. Finally, one of them asked, "What did she roll?" The other
> answered, "I don't know - I thought you were watching."
> MORAL OF THE STORY - Not all Irish are stupid and not all blondes are
> dumb, but all men are men
When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of
women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn,
you check for feet under the cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman
leaving the cubicle. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't
matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!
The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mum,
doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the door hook, if
there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck,
(Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!) down with
your pants and assume ' The Stance.
In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake.
You'd love to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to
lay toilet paper on it, you hold 'The Stance.'
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you
discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.
In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Dear, if you had
tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet
paper!' Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the
one that's still in your bag (the bag around your neck, that now you
have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That
would have to do, so you crumple it in the puffiest way possible.
It's still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.
The door hits your bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of
your chest and you and your bag topple backward against the tank of the
'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your
precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, while losing
your footing altogether and sliding down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.
It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too
late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and
life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper -not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.
You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because
you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat
because, frankly, dear, 'You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so
confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose
against the inside of the bowl and spraying a fine mist of water that
covers your bum and runs down your legs and into your shoes.
The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and you grab
onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the
wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a sweet wrapper
you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the
You can't figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors,
so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting
You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the
very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from
your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it?)
You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tellher warmly 'Here, you just might need this.
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men's toilet. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long and why
is your bag hanging around your neck?
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with any public rest
rooms/toilets (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains
to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers that other
commonly asked question about why women go to the toilets in pairs. It's
so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your bag and hand you
Kleenex under the door.
This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so