In the office where I work, there is a constant battle between our technical-support director and customer-service personnel over the room temperature, which is usually too low.
The frustrated director, trying to get us to understand his position, announced one afternoon, “We need to keep the temperature below seventy-five degrees or the computers will overheat.”
Thinking that this was just another excuse, one of my shivering colleagues retorted, “Yeah right. So how did they keep the computers from overheating before there was air conditioning?”
The word ‘phonetically’ doesn’t even start with an ‘F’. Shit like this is why aliens fly straight past us.
A priest had the weight of the world on his shoulders and was showing the effects. The church sent him to a psychiatrist, who ordered him to take a week off. So the priest left his religious paraphernalia behind him and went to a neighboring city. He got himself a nice room and went to the hotel bar to relax with a couple stiff drinks.
A waitress in a short skirt and low-cut uniform came over and asked, “What’ll it be, Father?”
The priest felt to see if he was still wearing his collar by mistake, but he had none on.
“How did you know I’m a priest?” he asked.
The waitress said, “I’m Sister Mary Margaret. We go to the same psychiatrist!”