Myself Jokes / Recent Jokes

ABC Stock reaches $155. $155 for a stock that should be valued at $100. Wow!!!!
That's it I say to myself. It's time I make that decision that all longs consider at one time or another. I am going to short my first stock. I am thinking to myself "This stock is overvalued. It can't sustain these levels. This is money in the bank. Guaranteed baby!!"
I phone my broker.
"How can I help you Mr. Junkie."
"I want to place a trade. I want to short 1000 share of ABC." After a few seconds he says,
"I am sorry Mr. Junkie. I can't process that for you. Your account is a cash account. You need a margin account to short a stock. I can send you the application or you could go to your nearest financial institution to fill out the forms."
I head out the door the minute I get off the phone because time was a wasting and as they say time is money. I run into the financial institution fill out the form and have a taxi deliver it more...

How do I know that my youth is all spent? Well, my get up and go has got up and went. But in spite of it all I am able to grin when I recall where my get up has been. Old age is golden-so I`ve heard it said- but sometimes I wonder when I get into bed, with my ears in a drawer and my teeth in a cup, my eyes on the table until I wake up. Ere sleep dims my eyes I say to myself, "Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?" And I`m happy to say as I close my door, my friends are the same, perhaps even more. When I was young, my slippers were red, I could pick up my heels right over my head. When I grew older, my slippers were blue, but still I could dance the whole night through. But now I am old, my slippers are black, I walk to the store and puff my way back. The reason I know my youth is all spent, my get up and go has got up and went. But I really don`t mind when I think, with a grin, of all the grand places my get up has been. Since I have retired from life`s more...

(Be read when using the Willy voice in your head)SUBJ: Clinton's Address to the NationText from Clinton's Address to the Nation if he were on truth serum. 10. 16 P. m. ET (0216 GMT) August 17, 1998Good evening. This afternoon in this room, from this chair, in this very spot, I was forced to testify before the Office of Independent Counsel and the grand jury. I answered their questions truthfully whenever there was compelling physical evidence that would contradict my lies, including questions about having sex while watching an intern do kinky things that I now spin as being part of my private life, questions so embarrassing that no American citizen would ever want to answer. Still, the polls indicate that I must take complete responsibility for all my actions, both public and private. And that is why I am speaking to you tonight and not ducking questions while the Marine Band plays loudly and drowns out the media. As you know, in a deposition in January, I was asked questions about my more...

Three guys decided to form a partnership and go into business for themselves.
"Since I put up sixty-five percent of the capital," the first said, "I am appointing myself Chairman of the Board and President."
"I put up thirty percent," said the second, "therefore, I am appointing myself Vice-President, Secretary and Treasurer."
"Well, I put up five percent," the third partner said. "What does that make me?"
"I am appointing you Vice-President of sex and music," said the Chariman.
"That sounds good," said the third partner, "but what does it mean?"
"What it means is, if and when I want your advice, I'll whistle!" the Chariman said.

Last night I wrote myself a letter. But I forgot to sign it and now I don't know who it's from.

With apologies to Mr Poe
As I kneel, head bowed, puking,
as I choke and snort my sputum
croaking, coughing, retching, groaning,
on the bathroom floor,
I think, though brain is dizzy,
things I've never thought before
Things I've missed, though often spewing,
or somehow managed to ignore
While I lie bedraggled,
on the stinking cold hard floor.
Now with head a-throbbing,
o'er the great white bowl I'm bobbing,
Bobbing, throbbing, weaving, chucking,
surely there can be no more?
No more vomit I lay praying,
Jesus! save me now, and seal my maw
And send a team of maidens
to mop this stinking cold hard floor
And if you do, I promise,
on my honour, Nevermore!
But lo! my gut's ill-fated,
and my heaves are unabated,
And now my thoughts turn back
to whence they were before,
As I'm squirming, smacking, flopping,
like a spastic being ignored.
And no maidens do I hear,
not one wet-wipe does more...

A blonde hurried into the hospital emergency room late one night with the
tip of her index finger shot off.

"How did this happen?," the emergency room doctor asked her.

"Well, I was trying to commit suicide," the blonde replied.

"What?" sputtered the doctor? "You tried to commit suicide by shooting off
the tip of your finger?"

"No, silly!" the blonde said. "First, I put the gun to my chest, and I
thought,' I just paid $6, 000 for these; I'm not shooting myself in the
chest."

"So then?" asked the doctor.

"Then I put the gun in my mouth, and I thought,' I just paid $3, 000 to get
my teeth straightened; I'm not shooting myself in the mouth."

"So, then?"

"Then I put the gun to my ear, and I thought' This is going to make a loud
noise, so I put my finger in the other ear before I more...