The bookies always assume they never even have a shot.
Needless to say, I ignored all the neigh sayers.
I'm going to have to pony up.
Because no one would bet on a seahorse.
...and finds himself in hell. Walking around, he runs into the devil.
Devil: Why are you so sad?
Guy: Why do you think? I'm in hell.
Devil: Hell's not so bad. We actually have a lot of fun down here. You a drinkin' man?
Guy: Sure, I love to drink.
Devil: Well you're gonna love Mondays then. On Mondays, all we do is drink. Whiskey, tequila, Guinness, wine coolers, Diet Coke. We drink until we throw up and then we drink some more.
Guy: Gee, that sounds great.
Devil: You a smoker?
Guy: You better believe it.
Devil: All right! You're gonna love Tuesdays. We get the finest cigars from around the world and smoke our friggin' lungs out. If you get cancer, it's okay -- you're already dead.
Guy: Golly!
Devil: I bet you like to gamble, too.
Guy: Yes, as a matter of fact I do.
Devil: Good, because Wednesday is gambling day. Craps, blackjack, horse races, you name it. You like to do drugs?
Guy: Yes, I love to do drugs. You don't mean...?
Devil: That's right! Thursday is drug day. Help yourself to a great big bowl of crack. Smoke a doobie the size of the Titanic. You can do all the drugs you want, and you'll never die -- you're already dead.
Guy: Neat! I never realized hell was such a happenin' place!
Devil: You gay?
Guy: No.
Devil: Oh, you're gonna hate Fridays
I’ll bet horse congresses never pass any bills.
There was a guy who was a gambler you know, he always bet on the number five, so he went to the horse races. He went on May 5, 2005, at 5:00 o'clock, he went to the fifth race, he bet on the fifth horse.
He got fifth place.
Doc.1: "You won't believe it. Today I got a guy over at the hospital. he had EIGHT plastic horses up his ass!"
Doc.2: "Goodness... What's his condition?"
Doc.1: "Stable."
(Disclaimer: I wish I had been the first to think of this, sadly I wasn't. I've got no clue who came up with this, but I bet he was a dad.)
We went shopping and we're only supposed to pick up a few things but my dad kept putting stuff in the basket I was carrying. When we got to the register...
Me: I'll pay for my stuff, is that it? Well really you should buy it as a tip for carrying your stuff the whole time.
Him: don't bet on the horses, there's your tip.
