Jack decided to go skiing with his buddy, Bob. They loaded up Jack's station wagon and headed north. After driving for a few hours, they got caught in a terrible blizzard. They pulled into a nearby farm house and asked the attractive lady of the house if they could spend the night.
"I'm recently widowed," she explained, "and I'm afraid the neighbors will talk if I let you stay in my house."
"Not to worry," Jack said, "we'll be happy to sleep in the barn."
Nine months later, Jack got a letter from the widow's attorney. He called up his friend Bob and said:
"Bob, do you remember that good-looking widow at the farm we stayed at?"
"Yes, I do."
"Did you happen to get up in the middle of the night, go up to the house and have sex with her?"
"Yes, I have to admit that I did."
"Did you happen to use my name instead of telling her your name?"
Bob's face turns red and he said, "Yeah, I'm afraid I did."
"Well, thanks! She just died and left me everything!"
Submitted by reader G.G.
The captain of a Syrian airliner sends out a distress message: "Mayday, mayday, mayday, Syrian 174, flame out engine one, we want to land at any airport in the Mid-East that's not in Israel."
A short while later he announces, "Mayday, Syrian 174, flame out engines one and two, requesting permission to land at any airport in the Mid-East OTHER than in Israel."
A while later the captain announces, "Mayday, Syrian 174, we are desperate. We have lost two engines and are losing the third. We need to land at any airport in the Mid-East OTHER than in Israel."
Still no answer.
Finally, the captain calls, "Help! This is Syrian Airlines 174, we have only one engine left and it is rapidly failing. Unless we can land we are going to crash. We need permission to land at ANY airport, INCLUDING in Israel."
A voice is heard in the Syrian airline cockpit:
"Shalom Syrian 174, Tel Aviv Approach. Radar contact over the Mediterrenean, eight-five west of Tel Aviv. We stand ready to assist."
"God bless you," says the Syrian pilot. "What should we do?"
"Repeat after me: Yitgadal, v'yitkadash..."
Submitted by reader L.P.
During a recent publicity outing, Hillary sneaked off to visit a fortune teller of some local repute. In a dark and hazy room, peering into a crystal ball, the mystic delivered grave news.
"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just be blunt: Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a violent and horrible death this year."
Visibly shaken, Hillary stared at the woman's lined face, then at the single flickering candle, then down at her hands. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself. She simply had to know. She met the fortune teller's gaze, steadied her voice, and asked her question.
"Will I be acquitted?"
Submitted by reader S.S.