Some of my friends started a company built around an innovative idea for an online business. A debate broke out about what to name the venture. “We have to call it Imagination,” one passionate participant cried out.
Everyone thought the idea over for a minute, and then a voice of reason replied, “Are you sure you want your business card to read ‘Imagination, Limited’?”
The district attorney was cross-examining the murderess on the witness stand.
“And so after you had poisoned the coffee and your husband sat at the breakfast table partaking of the fatal dosage, didn’t you feel any qualms? Didn’t you feel the slightest pity for him knowing that he was about to die and was wholly unconscious of it?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Come to think of it…there was just a moment when I sort of felt sorry for him.”
“And, when was that?”
“When he asked for the second cup.”
A flat-chested young lady went to a popular surgeon known for “no scars” about enlarging her breasts.
To her shock, Dr. Bosley advised her, “Every day after your shower, rub your chest and say, “Scooby doobie doobies, I want bigger boobies!” He guaranteed success and, figuring she had nothing to lose, she did what he told her to do faithfully for several months.
To her utter amazement she grew terrific D-cup boobs! One morning she was running late, got on the bus, and in a panic realized she had forgotten her morning ritual.
Frightened she might lose her lovely boobs if she didn’t recite the little rhyme, she stood right there in the middle aisle of the bus, closed her eyes and said quietly, “Scooby doobie doobies, I want bigger boobies.”
She apparently didn’t say it quietly enough, though, since a guy sitting nearby looked at her and asked “Oh! Are you a patient of Dr. Bosley?’
“Yes I am,” she said, a bit embarrassed. “How did you know?”
He winked and whispered, “Hickory dickory dock….”