Measure Jokes / Recent Jokes

ASTROLOGY: tells us about you and your future simply by your birthday. The Chinese Zodiac uses the year of your birth. Demographics tell us what you like, dislike, whom you vote for, what you buy, and what you watch on TV. Well, the Corporate Zodiac goes a step further: simply by your job title, people will have you all figured out...MARKETING: You are ambitious yet stupid. You chose a marketing degree to avoid having to study in college, concentrating instead on drinking and socializing, which is pretty much what your job responsibilities are now. Least compatible with Sales.SALES: Laziest of all signs, often referred to as "marketing without a degree," you are also self-centered and paranoid. Unless someone calls you and begs you to take their money, you like to avoid contact with "customers" so you can "concentrate on the big picture." You seek admiration for your golf game throughout your life.TECHNOLOGY: Unable to control anything in your personal more...

Four men were bragging about how smart their dogs are. The first man was an engineer, the second man was an Accountant, the third man was a Chemist and the fourth was a Government Worker.
To show off, the Engineer called to his dog, "T-square, do your stuff!". T-square trotted over to a desk, took out some paper and a pen, and promptly drew a circle, a square, and a triangle.
Everyone agreed that was pretty smart. But the Accountant said his dog could do better. He called his dog and said, "Slide Rule, do your stuff!". Slide Rule went out into the kitchen and returned with a dozen cookies. He divided them into 4 equal piles of 3 cookies each.
Everyone agreed that was good. But the Chemist said his dog could do better. He called his dog and said, "Measure, do your stuff!". Measure got up, walked over to the fridge, took out a quart of milk, got a 10 ounce glass from the cupboard and poured exactly 8 ounces without spilling a drop.
Everyone more...

The Pentagon recently found it had too many Generals and offered an early retirement bonus. They promised any General who retired right away, his full annual benefits PLUS $10, 000 for every inch measured, in a straight line along the retiring general's body, between two points he chose. The first General accepted. He asked the pension man to measure from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. 6 feet. He walked out with a check for $720, 000. The second General asked them to measure from the tip of his outstretched hands to his toes. 8 feet. He walked out with a check for $960, 000. Meantime, the first General had tipped off the third. When he was asked where to measure, he told the pension man, "From the tip of my penis to the tip of my testicles." The pension man said that would be fine, but he'd better get the Medical Officer to do the measuring. The Medical Officer attended and asked the General to drop' em and he did. The Medical Officer placed the tape on the tip more...

Astrology tells us about you and your future simply by your birthday. The Chinese Zodiac uses the year of your birth. Demographics tell us what you like, dislike, whom you vote for, what you buy and what you watch on television.
Well, the Corporate Zodiac goes a step further: simply by your job title, people will have you all figured out...
MARKETING: You are ambitious yet stupid. You chose a marketing degree to avoid having to study in college, concentrating instead on drinking and socializing - which is pretty much what your job responsibilities are now. Least compatible with Sales.
SALES: Laziest of all signs, often referred to as "marketing without a degree", you are also self-centered and paranoid. Unless someone calls you and begs you to take their money, you like to avoid contact with "customers" so you can "concentrate on the big picture". You seek admiration for your golf game throughout your life.
TECHNOLOGY: Unable to control more...

A quick narrative. I always wanted a hopped up muscle car when I was younger. I couldn't afford one. Now I can, and I have one. It is a '70 Mustang, and her name is Bessie. Bessie is the prototypical juvenile, male-caveman, scratch your crotch and drink cheap beer car. Chromed engine, dual exhaust, 250 horsepower, big tires, tra la la la.
I'm driving Bessie on Beach Boulevard behind an ancient guy in a beat up truck. He decides to turn in front of me without a blinker. I accelerate to swerve and avoid him, and this assh*le, overaerobicized woman jumps in front of my car with her hand up.
Meet Ethel, the neighborhood busybody/nuisance. She proceeds to yell in my window, "Hey, slow down you %$&#@ idiot." I'm a well-bred, mellow guy by nature, so I ignore this. As I drive away, she yells, "assh*le" at me again. Twice? *&%$# that. I turn around and drive up next to her.
"Do you have a problem?" I ask.
"Yeah, why are you driving like an more...

Point at a photo of the interviewer's family on desk and start
laughing uncontrollably.
Ask if there is only one emergency exit, grin and say,
'Boy!, I bet this floor would be in trouble if someone
barricaded that.'
Constantly fidget with your underwear waistband, then blurt:
'The strawberry ones are the stickiest, don't ya' think?'
After detailing your greatest achievement, qualify it with,
'Of course I was totally hammered at the time.'
Inquire on the office's policy of friends staying over.
Claim you wouldn't even need a sit-in' job if Al Einstein
hadn't stolen your secret patent for '2000 Flushes'
Over-emphasize your ability to use a copier.
Ask if it's O.K. that you sit on the floor.
Mention your resume would have been stronger, but you
didn't feel like making anything else up.
Ask the secretary if she'll sit on your lap during interview.
Walk into interviewers office with a tape measure, measure
office from more...

A quick narrative. I always wanted a hopped up muscle car when I was younger. I couldn't afford one. Now I can, and I have one. It's a '70 Mustang, and her name is Bessie. Bessie is the proto-typical juvenile, male-caveman, scratch yourself and drink cheap beer car. Chromed engine, dual exhaust, 250 horsepower, big tires.
I'm driving Bessie on Beach Boulevard behind an ancient guy in a beat up truck. He decides to turn in front of me without a blinker. I accelerate to swerve and avoid him, and this crazy, over aerobicized woman jumps in front of my car with her hand up. Meet Ethel, the neighborhood busybody/nuisance.
She proceeds to yell in my window, "Hey, slow down you idiot." I'm a well-bred, mellow guy by nature, so I ignore this. As I drive away, she yells, "Jerk" at me again. Twice? I turn around and drive up next to her.
"Do you have a problem?" I ask.
"Yeah, why are you driving like an idiot?"
"I was driving like more...