An elderly woman had just returned to her home from an evening of religious service when she was startled by an intruder.
As she caught the man in the act of robbing her home of its valuables, she yelled, "Stop! Acts 2:38! Turn from your sin!"
The burglar stopped dead in his tracks. Then the woman immediately called the police and explained what she had done.
As the officer cuffed the man to take him in, he asked the burglar, "Why did you just stand there? All the old lady did was yell a scripture at you."
"Scripture?" replied the burglar, "She said she had an axe and two 38s!"
One day about a month ago, President Bush was looking for a call girl. He found three such girls in a local lounge, a blonde, a brunette and a redhead.
To the blonde he said, "I am the President of the United States. Now how much would it cost me to spend some time with you?"
She replied, $200."
To the brunette he asked the same question. Her reply was $100.
He then asked the redhead.
Her reply was, "Mr. President, if you can get my skirt up as high as my taxes, my panties as low as my wages, get that thing of yours as hard as the times, and keep it rising like the gas prices, keep me warmer than it is in my apartment and screw me the way you do the public, then believe me, Mr. President, it isn't going to cost you a damn cent."
Paul and his friend John die in a car accident and go to judgment. God tells Paul that because he cheated on his income taxes, the only way he can enter Heaven is to sleep with a stupid, ugly woman for the next five years.
A few days later, as Paul's walking in the park with his stupid, hideous new girlfriend, he spots his friend John with an absolutely drop dead gorgeous woman. "John, what happened?" Paul asks.
"I have no idea," John replies. "I was told I have five years of amazing sex to look forward to. The only thing I don't understand is why she always yells 'Damn income taxes!' whenever we have sex."
A very logical and somewhat cold calculating professor of mathematics sent this fax to his wife:
Dear Wife,
You must realize that now you are 54 years old, and I have certain needs which you are no longer able to satisfy. I am otherwise happy with you as a wife, and I sincerely hope you will not be hurt or offended to learn that by the time you receive this letter, I will be at the Grand Hotel with my 18 year old teaching assistant. I'll be home before midnight.
Your Husband,
Professor Malone
When he arrived at the hotel, there was a faxed letter waiting for him that read as follows:
Dear Husband,
You, too, are 54 years old and by the time you receive this letter, I will be at the Breakwater Hotel with the 18 year old pool boy. Since you are a mathematician, you will appreciate that 18 goes into 54 more times than 54 goes into 18.
Your Wife.
Gordon Brown was lookin for a lady of the night. He found a girl in a local pub. He said: "I'm Prime minister of England, how much would it cost me to spend time with you ...?"
Her reply: "Mr prime minister, if you can get my skirt as high as my taxes, my pants as low as my wages, your dick as hard as the times we're living in and keep it rising like the price of petrol and screw me the way you have the pensioners - then it won't cost a fucking penny!"