A store that sells husbands has just opened in New York City,…
Where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the
instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates.
You may visit the store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors and the
attributes of the men increase as the shopper ascends the flights.
There is, however, a catch… You may choose any man from a
particular floor, or you may choose to go up a floor,.. But you cannot
go back down except to exit the building! So, a woman goes to the
Husband Store to find a husband… On the first floor the sign on the
door reads:
Floor 1 – These men have jobs and love the Lord.
She
then goes to the second floor,… The second floor sign reads: Floor 2
– These men have jobs, love the Lord, and love kids. She thinks for
a while, and then goes to the third floor,… The third floor sign reads:
Floor 3 – These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, and are
extremely good looking. “Wow,” she thinks, but feels compelled to
keep going. She goes to the fourth floor and the sign reads:
Floor 4 –
These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop dead good
looking and help with the housework. “Oh, mercy me!” she
exclaims, “I can hardly stand it!” Still, she goes to the fifth floor and
the sign reads: Floor 5 – These men have jobs, love the Lord, love
kids, are drop dead gorgeous, help with the housework, and have a
strong romantic streak. She is so tempted to stay,… But she goes to
the sixth floor and the sign reads: * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Floor 6 –
You are visitor no. 43,630,912 to this floor. There are no men on this
floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to
please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store.
Watch your
step as you exit the building, and have a nice day! Share this to all
men for a good laugh,… and to all the women who can handle the truth
--An old man is flying from Los Angeles to New York--
An old man is flying from Los Angeles to New York.
During the meal service, he accidentally knocked the spoon off to the aisle with his elbow.
The flight attendant immediately took a spoon from his pocket and placed it on his tray table.
The old man was very impressed by the promptness of the service and asked,
“Do all flight attendants carry a spoon in their pockets?”
The flight attendant answered,
“We had an efficiency expert in to evaluate our operation. He determined that 25% of the customers knock the spoon off their ay tables. By carrying a spare spoon, we all save trips to the galley and can be much more efficient.”
Later, as the flight attendant is picking his dirty ay up, the customer asked,
“Excuse me for asking but why do you have a sing hanging from your fly?”
The flight attendant replied,
“The efficiency expert determined that we were spending too much time washing our hands after we went to the bathroom.
To counteract this, we tie sings to our pen!ses.”
The old man looked confused.
“How does that help?” he asked.
“Well, when I go to the bathroom I just use the sing.
Since I never touched myself I don’t need to wash my hands.”
The old man nodded and asked,
“But how do you get it back in your pants?”
The flight attendant smiled,
“I don’t know about the other guys, but I use the spoon.”
From the start, I knew this wedding would be the perfect backdrop to reveal a secret. Greg thought he had it all figured out, yet he didn’t know, I was the one holding the detonator. My wedding with Greg looked like something straight out of a fairytale. Greg stood at the altar, beaming. To him, it marked the beginning of our perfect life. But to me, it was the end of a beautiful lie. The reception played out like a dream—champagne toasts, laughter floating across the lawn, his parents acting like the perfect in-laws. And me? I played my part to perfection. For illustrative purpose only Smiling, even dancing with Greg as if everything were fine. But inside, I was just waiting for the right moment to drop the bomb. When the night wore on, Greg grew more eager for our wedding night. His hands lingered too long, his eyes shined with anticipation. But I was focused on my own plan. After the guests left and his parents retreated to the guest rooms downstairs, Greg led me to t...
