All three go with a White House official to examine the fence. The Minnesota contractor takes out a tape measure and does some measuring, then works some figures with a pencil. “Well,” he says, “I figure the job will run about $900: $400 for materials, $400 for my crew and $100 profit for me.”

The Tennessee contractor also does some measuring and figuring, then says, “I can do this job for $700: $300 for materials, $300 for my crew and $100 profit for me.”

The Chicago contractor doesn’t measure or figure, but leans over to the White House official and whispers, “$2,700.”

The official, incredulous, says, “You didn’t even measure like the other guys! How did you come up with such a high figure?”

The Chicago contractor whispers back, “$1000 for me, $1000 for you, and we hire the guy from Tennessee to fix the fence.”

“Done!” replies the government official.

She’s not quite sure what to do, so Harry says, “Stand in front of that bar and pick up a guy. Tell him that you charge a hundred bucks. If you got a question, I’ll be parked around the corner.”

She’s standing there for 5 minutes when a guy pulls up and asks, “How much?” She says, “A hundred dollars.”

He says, “All I got is thirty”. She says, “Hold on,” and runs back to Harry and asks, “What can he get for thirty?”

“A hand job”, Harry reply.

She runs back and tells the guy all he gets for thirty dollar is a hand job. He agrees. She gets in the car. He unzips his pants, and out pops this HUGE ……

She stares at it for a minute, and then says, “I’ll be right back.” She runs back to Harry, and asks, “Can you loan this guy seventy bucks?”

He asks if you’re afraid and you shake your head bravely. He has had more experience, but it’s the first time his finger has found the right place.

He probes deeply and you shiver; your body tenses; but he’s gentle like he promised he’d be.

He looks deeply within your eyes and tells you to trust him-he’s done this many times before.

His cool smile relaxes you and you open wider to give him more room for an ease entrance. You begin to plead and beg him to hurry, but he slowly takes his time, wanting to cause you as little pain as possible. As he presses closer, going deeper, you feel the tissue give way; pain surges throughout your body and you feel the slight trickle of blood as he continues. He looks at you concerned and asks you if it’s too painful. Your eyes are filled with tears but you shake your head and nod for him to go on. He begins going in and out with skill but you are now too numb to feel him within you.

After a few moments, you feel something bursting within you and he pulls it out of you, you lay panting, glad to have it over. He looks at you and smiling warmly, tells you, with a chuckle; that you have been his most stubborn yet most rewarding experience.

You smile and thank your dentist. After all, it was your first time to have a tooth pulled.

Naughty, Naughty!

Excuse me, What were you thinkin’?

A few days later the same guy sticks his head in the door and asks, “How long before I can get a haircut?”

The barber looks around at the shop full of customers and says, “About 3 hours.” The guy leaves.

A week later the same guy sticks his head in the shop and asks, “How long before I can get a haircut?”

The barber looks around the shop and says, “About an hour and half.”

The guy leaves. The barber looks over at a friend in the shop and says, “Hey, Bill, follow that guy and see where he goes. He keeps asking how long he has to wait for a haircut, but then doesn’t come back.”

A little while later, Bill comes back into the shop, laughing hysterically. The barber asks, “Bill, where did he go when he left here?”

Bill looks up, tears in his eyes and says, “Your house!”

Now doctor, isn’t it true that when a person dies in his sleep, in most cases he just passes quietly away and doesn’t know anything about it until the next morning?

Q: What happened then?
A: He told me, he says, “I have to kill you because you can identify me.”
Q: Did he kill you?

Was it you or your brother that was killed in the war?

The youngest son, the 20-year-old, how old is he?

Q: She had three children, right?
A: Yes.
Q: How many were boys?
A: None.
Q: Were there any girls?

Were you alone or by yourself?

Q: I show you Exhibit 3 and ask you if you recognize that picture?
A: That’s me.
Q: Were you present when that picture was taken?

Were you present in court this morning when you were sworn in?

Q: You say that the stairs went down to the basement?
A: Yes.
Q: And these stairs, did they go up also?

Q: Now then, Mrs. Johnson, how was your first marriage terminated?
A: By death.
Q: And by whose death was it terminated?

Q: Do you know how far pregnant you are now?
A: I’ll be three months on March 12th.
Q: Apparently then, the date of conception was around January 12th?
A: Yes.
Q: What were you doing at that time?

Do you have any children or anything of that kind?

Was that the same nose you broke as a child?

Q: Mrs. Jones, do you believe you are emotionally stable?
A: I used to be.
Q: How many times have you committed suicide?

So, you were gone until you returned?

You don’t know what it was, and you didn’t know what it looked like, but can you describe it?

Q: Have you lived in this town all your life?
A: Not yet.

A Texas attorney, realizing he was on the verge of unleashing a stupid question, interrupted himself and said, “Your Honor, I’d like to strike the next question.”

Q: Do you recall approximately the time that you examined that body of Mr. Huntington at St. Mary’s Hospital?
A: It was in the evening. The autopsy started about 5:30 P.M.
Q: And Mr. Huntington was dead at the time, is that correct?
A: No, you idiot, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was performing an autopsy on him!