It was raining hard and a big puddle had formed in front of the little Irish pub. An old man stood beside the puddle holding a stick with a string on the end and jiggled it up and down in the water.
A curious gentleman asked what he was doing.
“Fishing,” replied the old man.
“Poor old fool” thought the gentleman, so he invited the old man to have a drink in the pub.
Feeling he should start some conversation while they were sipping their whiskey, the gentleman asked, “And how many have you caught today?”
“You’re the eighth.”
Do people who run in Marathons know they don't have to?
Freya was driving her Chevrolet Vega home in New Mexico when she saw an elderly Apache woman walking along the side of the road. She stopped the car and asked the woman if she would like a lift?
With a silent nod, the woman climbed into the car. Freya tried in vain to make conversation with the Apache woman.
The old Apache looked closely at everything she saw, studying every little detail, until she noticed a red gift bag on the seat next to Freya.
"What’s in the bag?" asked the old woman.
"It’s a bottle of whiskey that I got for my husband."
The Apache woman was silent for another minute or two. Then speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder, she said,"‘Good trade."
Bring me the box labeled "thinking cap" ... and then read this tiny ad:
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