A couple of old guys in Palm Desert were golfing when one mentioned that he was going to go to Dr. Smith for a new set of dentures in the morning.
His elderly buddy remarked that he too had gone to the very same dentist two years before.
“Is that so?” asked the first old guy. “Did he do a good job?”
The second oldster replied, “Well, I was on the golf course yesterday when a guy on the next fairway hooked a shot. The ball must have been going at least 100 mph when it smacked me right in the testicles.”
The first old guy was confused and asked, “What the hell does that have to do with your dentures?”
“It was the first time my teeth didn’t hurt…”
An engineer dies and reports to the Pearly Gates. Saint Peter checks his dossier and, not seeing his name there, accidentally sends him to Hell.
Engineers don’t usually end up in hell so Satan is intrigued by the new arrival. As expected, conditions in hell are appalling – it’s stifling hot, the infrastructure is in ruins, the pipes are rusty, the water is polluted and, of course, there is no air conditioning.
Accepting his fate, the engineer soon gets to work. A few months later he sorts out the HVAC and gets the air conditioning going full blast. He redesigns the plumbing, develops water purification systems and fills the stagnant ponds with fresh, cool water. He develops state of the art moving sidewalks and escalators and optimises the power grid.
Hell is now high tech, everyone loves the changes and the engineer is now a pretty popular guy.
One day, God calls Satan and says with a sneer: “So, how are things in Hell?”
Satan replies: “Hey, things are going great. We’ve got air conditioning, flush toilets, and escalators. And there’s no telling what this engineer is going to come up with next.”
“What!” God exclaims: “You’ve got an engineer? That’s a mistake — he should never have been sent to Hell… send him to me.”
“Not a chance,” Satan replies: “I like having an engineer on the staff, and I’m keeping him!”
God insists: “Send him back or I’ll sue.”
Satan laughs uproariously and answers: “Yeah, right. And where are you going to get a lawyer?”
At a wine merchant’s, the regular taster died and the director started looking for a new one to hire. A drunkard with a ragged, dirty look came in to apply for the position. The director of the winery wondered how to send him away.
He gave him a glass to drink.
The drunk tried it and said: “It’s a Muscat, three years old, grown on a north slope, matured in steel containers. Low grade, but acceptable.”
“That’s correct,” said the boss.
Another glass…. “It’s a Cabernet, eight years old, a south-western slope, oak barrels, matured at 8 degrees. Requires three more years for finest results.”
“Correct.”
A third glass… “It’s a Pinot Blanc Champagne, high grade and exclusive,” calmly said the drunk.
The director was astonished.
He winked at his secretary, secretly suggesting something. She left the room, and came back in with a glass of urine.
The drunk tried it.
“It’s a blonde, 26 years old, three months pregnant – and if I don’t get the job, I’ll name the father.”