A Missouri farmer passed away and left 17 mules to his three sons. The instructions left in the will said that the oldest boy was to get one-half, the second oldest one-third, and the youngest one-ninth. The three sons, recognizing the difficulty of dividing 17 mules into these fractions, began to argue.
Their uncle heard about the argument, hitched up his mule and drove out to settle the matter. He added his mule to the 17, making 18. The oldest therefore got one-half, or nine, the second oldest got one-third, or six, and the youngest son got one-ninth, or two. Adding up 9, 6 and 2 equals 17. The uncle, having settled the argument, hitched up his mule and drove home.
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The personnel office received an email requesting a listing of the department staff broken down by age and sex. The personnel office sent this reply...
"Attached is a list of our staff. We currently have no one broken down by age or sex. However, we have a few alcoholics."
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A student comes to a young professor's office. She glances down the hall, closes his door, kneels pleadingly.
"I would do anything to pass this exam." She leans closer to him, flips back her hair, gazes meaningfully into his eyes. "I mean..." she whispers, "...I would do...anything."
He returns her gaze. "Anything?"
"Anything."
His voice softens. "Anything??"
"Absolutely anything."
His voice turns to a whisper. "Would you……..study?"
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Not long before her wedding, Melody discovered that her father’s new young wife had purchased the same dress as Melody’s mother.
“Can’t you change the dress?” Melody asked her stepmother. “I don’t want there to be an argument.”
“I’m not changing the dress,” said the stepmother. “I look fantastic in it.”
When Melody told her mother, she expected outrage but instead she took it in her stride and decided to buy another dress.
“Do you want to return the first one?” Melody asked. “It was expensive, and you don’t have any other reason to wear it.”
“I’ll still be wearing the dress,” said Melody’s mother.
“But I thought–”
“I’ll wear it to the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.”
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After a meeting several days ago, I couldn’t find my keys. I quickly gave myself a personal “TSA Pat Down.”
They weren’t in my pockets. Suddenly I realized I must have left them in the car. Frantically, I headed for the parking lot. My husband has scolded me many times for leaving my keys in the car’s ignition. He’s afraid that the car could be stolen. As I looked around the parking lot, I realized he was right. The parking lot was empty. I immediately called the police. I gave them my location, confessed that I had left my keys in the car, and that it had been stolen.
Then I made the most difficult call of all to my husband: “I left my keys in the car, and it’s been stolen.”
There was a moment of silence. I thought the call had been disconnected, but then I heard his voice. “Are you kidding me?” he barked, “I dropped you off!”
Now it was my turn to be silent. Embarrassed, I said, “Well, come and get me.”
He retorted, “I will, as soon as I convince this cop that I didn’t steal your car!”
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