Retirement Jokes - Chapter Three - For Women Only

Retirement Joke Chapter Three is some fun stuff for the ladies - however men can view and learn.

11 PEOPLE ON A ROPE

Eleven people were hanging on a rope under a helicopter--ten men and one woman. The rope was not strong enough to carry them all, so they decided that one had to leave, because otherwise they were all going to fall.

They weren't able to name that person, until the woman gave a very touching speech.

She said that she would voluntarily let go of the rope, because, as a woman, she was used to giving up everything for her husband and kids, or for men in general, and was used to always making sacrifices with little in return As soon as she finished her speech, all the men started clapping their hands....

SEND THIS ITEM TO AN INTELLIGENT WOMAN, OR ANY MEN YOU THINK CAN HANDLE IT.

He said . . .. I don't know why you wear a bra; you've got nothing to put in it. She said .. .. You wear pants don't you?

He said .. . .Shall we try swapping positions tonight? She said . . That's a good idea - you stand by the ironing board while I sit on the sofa.

He said . . .. What have you been doing with all the grocery money I gave you? She said . Turn sideways and look in the mirror!

On a wall in a ladies room . .. "My husband follows me everywhere" Written just below it . . " I do not"

Q.How many honest, intelligent, caring men in the world does it take to do the dishes? A.Both of them.

Q.How does a man show that he is planning for the future? A.He buys two cases of beer.

Q.What is the difference between men and government bonds? A.The bonds mature.

Q..Why are blonde jokes so short? A.So men can remember them.

Q.What do you call a woman who knows where her husband is every night? A.. A widow.

Q.What is the one thing that all men at singles bars have in common? A.They're married.

A married couple in their early 60s was out celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary in a quiet, romantic little restaurant. Suddenly, a tiny yet beautiful fairy appeared on their table and said, "For being such an exemplary married couple and for being faithful to each other for all this time, I will grant you each a wish."

Oh, I want to travel around the world with my darling husband" said the wife. The fairy waved her magic wand and - poof! - two tickets for the Queen Mary II luxury liner appeared in her hands.

Then it was the husband's turn. He thought for a moment and said: "Well, this is all very romantic, but an opportunity like this will never come again. I'm sorry my love, but my wish is to have a wife 30 years younger than me."

The wife and the fairy were deeply disappointed, but a wish is a wish...So the fairy waved her magic wand and - poof! - the husband became 92 years old.

The moral of the story: Men who are ungrateful bastards should remember that fairies are female.

This is such a typical trip to a public restroom
A woman will TRULY relate to this (and men will better understand...!)

My mother was a fanatic about public bathrooms. When I was a little girl, she'd take me into the stall, teach me to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then, she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, NEVER sit on a public toilet seat.

Then she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat.

By this time, I'd have wet down my leg and we'd have to go home to change my clothes. That was a long time ago. Even now, in my more "mature years, The Stance" is excruciatingly difficult to maintain, especially when one's bladder is full.

When you have to "go" in a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women that makes you think there's a half-price sale on Nelly's underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, who are also crossing their legs and smiling politely.

You get closer and check for feet under the stall doors. Every one is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter.

The dispenser for the new fangled "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully but quickly hang it around your neck (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance."

Ahhhh, relief. More relief. But then your thighs begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance" as your thighs experience a quake that would register an eight on the richter scale.

To take your mind off of your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you would have tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.

"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle, and sliding down, directly onto the insidious toilet seat.

You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.

You know that your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew, because you're certain that her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of water akin to a fountain that suddenly sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged off to China. At that point, you give up.

You're soaked by the splashing water. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past a line of women, still waiting, cross-legged and, at this point, no longer able to smile politely.

One kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you are trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long as the Mississippi River! ( Where was it when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has since entered, used and exited the men's restroom and read a copy of War and Peace while waiting for you.

Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?

"This is dedicated to women everywhere who have ever had to deal with a public restroom (rest??? you've got to be kidding!!).
It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked question about why women go to the restroom in pairs.

It's so the other woman can hold the door, hold your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door.

Why Men Pee Standing Up

God was just about done creating humans, but he had two parts left over and couldn't quite decide how to split them between Adam and Eve. He thought he might just as well ask them.
He told them one of the things He had left was a thing that would allow the owner to pee while standing up. "It's a very handy thing," God told them, "and I was wondering if either one of you had a preference for it."
Well, Adam jumped up and down and begged, "Oh, please give that to me! I'd love to be able to do that! It seems like just the sort of thing a man should have. Please! Pleeease! Give it to me!"
On and on he went like an excited little boy. Eve just smiled and told God that if Adam really wanted it so badly, he could have it, so God gave Adam the thing that allowed him to pee standing up.
Adam was so excited he just started whizzing all over the place - first on the side of a rock, then he wrote his name in the sand, and then he tried to see if he could hit a stump ten feet away - laughing with delight all the while.
God and Eve watched him with amusement and then God said to Eve, "Well, I guess you're kind of stuck with the last thing I have left."
"What's it called?" asked Eve.
"Brains," said God.

Warning to women

This is a heads-up to those of who haven't experienced it yet, and an explanation to those who have. Most of you have read the scare-mail about the person whose kidneys were stolen while he was passed out. Well, read on. While the kidney story was an urban legend, this one is not. It's happening every day.

My thighs were stolen from me during the night a few years ago. It was just that quick. I went to sleep in my body and woke up with someone else's thighs. The new ones had the texture of cooked oatmeal.

Who would have done such a cruel thing to legs that had been mine for years? Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine? I spent the entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans and Sheer Energy pantyhose.

Then, just when my guard was down, the thieves struck again. My butt was next. I knew it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my new rear end (although badly attached at least three inches lower than my original) to the thighs they stuck me with earlier. Now, my rear complemented my legs, lump for lump. Frantic, I prayed that long skirts would stay in fashion.

It was two years ago when I realized my arms had been switched. One morning, I was fixing my hair and I watched horrified but fascinated as the flesh of my upper arms swung to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush. This was really getting scary. My body was being replaced one section at a time. How clever and fiendish.

Age? Age had nothing to do with it. Age is supposed to creep up, unnoticed, something like maturity. NO, I was being attacked repeatedly and without warning. In despair, I gave up my T-shirts. What could they do to me next?

My poor neck disappeared more quickly than the Thanksgiving turkey it now resembled. That's why I decided to tell my story. I can't take on the medical profession by myself.

Women of the world, wake up and smell the coffee.
That really isn't plastic that those surgeons are using. You KNOW where they are getting those replacement parts, don't you?

The next time you suspect someone has had a face "lifted", look again. Was it lifted from you? I think I finally found my thighs .. and I hope that Cindy Crawford paid a really good price for them!

This is not a hoax. This is happening to women in every town every night.

WARN YOUR FRIENDS.

P.S. I must say that last year, I thought someone had stolen my breasts. I was lying in bed, and they were gone! As I jumped out of bed, I was relieved to see that they had just been hiding in my armpits as I slept. Now I keep them hidden in my waistband.

WHEN A MAN DECIDES TO VACUUM

Never underestimate how a woman thinks.

A married couple are driving along a road doing a steady forty miles per hour. The wife is behind the wheel. Her husband suddenly looks across at her and speaks in a clear voice. "Darling," he says. "I know we've been married for twenty years, but I want a divorce." The wife says nothing, keeps looking at the road ahead but slowly increases the speed to 45 mph.

The husband speaks again. "I don't want you to try and talk me out of it", he says, "because I've been having an affair with your best friend, and she's a far better lover than you are." Again the wife stays quiet, but grips the steering wheel a little tighter and slowly increases the speed to 55.

He pushes his luck. "I want the house," he says insistently. Up to 60. "I want the car, too," he continues. 65 mph. "And," he says, "I'll have the bank accounts, all the credit cards and the boat." The car slowly starts veering towards a massive concrete bridge. This makes him a wee bit nervous, so he asks her: "Isn't there anything you want?" The wife at last replies - in a quiet and controlled voice. "No, I've got everything I need." she says. "Oh, really?", he inquires, "so what have you got?"

Just before they slam into the wall at 75 mph, the wife turns to him and smiles........."The airbag.” - Never underestimate how a woman thinks.

Apples and Wine

Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree.
Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they just take the rotten apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy
The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing.
They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who's brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

Share this with other Women who are good apples, even those who have already been picked!

Now Men... Men are like a fine wine. They begin as grapes, and it's up to women to stomp the crap out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.

NEXT: For Men Only

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