Located in The Break Room started by DU, Jun 27, 2012.
Guess crops not the only thing they're raising..
A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon. As
she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest.
After a moment or two, the vet shook his head and sadly said, "I'm sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has passed away."
The distressed woman wailed,
"Are you sure?" "Yes, I am sure. Your duck is dead," replied the vet..
"How can you be so sure?" she protested. "I mean you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something."
The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a black Labrador Retriever. As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom.
He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head.
The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room. A few minutes later he returned with a cat. The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot.
The cat satback on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room.
The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck."
The vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman..
The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$150!" she cried, "$150 just to tell me my duck is dead!"
The vet shrugged, "I'm sorry. If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20, but with the Lab Report and the
Cat Scan, it's now $150."
Hope, this wasn't because of gender!
I owe this woman a lot...read a few of her posting on the old "showcase your mini-sites" thread, did some suggested changes...made adsense payout every month till GEOCities shut down its platform...in US funds!!
That money started me in buying domains...back when dot/Infos were 99 cents...
Guess I am getting old by remembering the good old days..LOL
Or then again, maybe they did?!?!?
So how many quarters did you spend on this game?
In case your memory sucks, GALAGA...
A woman decides to have a face lift for her 50th birthday. She spends $15,000 and looks sensational.
On her way home, she stops at a news stand to buy a newspaper. Before leaving, she says to the clerk, ‘I hope you don’t mind my asking, but how old do you think I am?”.
‘About 32,’ is the reply.’
‘Nope! I’m exactly 50,’ the woman says happily.
A little while later she goes into McDonald’s and asks the counter girl the very same question.
The girl replies, ‘I’d guess about 29.’ The woman replies with a big smile, ‘Nope, I’m 50.’
Now she’s feeling really good about herself. She stops at a candy shop on her way down the street.
She goes up to the counter to get some mints and asks the assistant the same burning question.
The clerk responds, ‘Oh, I’d say 30.’
Again she proudly responds, ‘I’m 50, but thank you!’
While waiting for the bus to go home, she asks an old man waiting next to her the same question.
He replies, ‘Lady, I’m 78 and my eyesight is going. Although, when I was young there was a sure-fire way to tell how old a woman was. It sounds very forward, but it requires you to let me put my hands under your bra Then, and only then I can tell you EXACTLY how old you are.’
They wait in silence on the empty street until her curiosity gets the better of her. She finally blurts out, ‘What the hell, go ahead.’
He slips both of his hands under her blouse and begins to feel around very slowly and carefully. He bounces and weighs each breast and he gently pinches each nipple. He pushes her breasts together and rubs them against each other.
After a couple of minutes of this, she says, ‘Okay, okay.....How old am I?’
He completes one last squeeze of her breasts, removes his hands, and says, ‘Madam, you are 50.’
Stunned and amazed, the woman says, ‘That was incredible, how could you tell?’
‘I was behind you at McDonalds’.
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