Leaving Minnesota for Colorado, I decide to make a stop at one of those rest areas on the side of the road. I go in the washroom. The first stall was taken so I went in the second stall. I just sat down when I hear a voice from the next stall: "Hi there, how is it going?"
Okay, I am not the type to strike conversations with strangers in washrooms on the side of the road. I didn't know what to say so finally I say: "Not bad ..."
Then the voice says: "So, what are you doing?"
I am starting to find that a bit weird, but I say: "Well, I'm going back to Colorado ..."
Then I hear the person say all flustered: "Look I'll call you back, every time I ask you a question this idiot in the next stall keeps answering me."
Many, many years ago when I was twenty-three, I got married to a widow who was pretty as could be. This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red. My father fell in love with her, and soon the two were wed. This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life.
My daughter was my mother, for she was my father's wife. To complicate the matters worse, although it brought me joy. I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy. My little baby then became a brother-in-law to dad. And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad. For if he was my uncle, then that also made him brother to the widow's grown-up daughter who, of course, was my stepmother.
Father's wife then had a son, who kept them on the run. And he became my grandson, for he was my daughter's son. My wife is now my mother's mother and it makes me blue. Because, although she is my wife, she's my grandma too. If my wife is my grandmother, then I am her grandchild. And every time I think of it, it simply drives me wild.
For now I have become the strangest case you ever saw. As the husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa!
Hillary Clinton died and went to heaven. As she stood in front of Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates, she saw a huge wall of clocks behind him. She asked, "What are all those clocks?"
Saint Peter answered, "Those are Lie-Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a Lie-Clock. Every time you lie, the hands on your clock will move.
"Oh,"said Hillary,"whose clock is that?"
"That's Mother Teresa's. The hands have never moved indicating that she never told a lie."
"Whose clock is that?"
"That's Abraham Lincoln's clock. The hands have only moved twice telling us that Abe only told 2 lies in his entire life."
"Where's Bill's clock?"Hillary asked.
"Bill's clock is in Jesus' office. He's using it as a ceiling fan."
