Just yellow please

One day, an elderly woman was walking along the street, coming home from the supermarket. Her bag of groceries was especially heavy that day, and as she passed Nathan Hale's Used Cars, she got an idea that she could drive herself to the store and save a lot of shoe leather, time and aching muscles. She walks into the car dealership and, as it just so happens, gets the owner himself. He asks her what kind of car she wants and she replies,

"Well, sonny, I can't remember the name exactly, but it has something to do with hate or anger."

The owner replies, "Well, let's see... Oh yes, you want a Plymouth Fury! We have a couple on the lot. What color do you prefer?"

The lady has some trouble explaining the exact color to him, so she reaches into her shopping bag, takes out an ear of corn, strips down the shucks and says, "I want this color sonny."

To which Nathan replies, "Ma'am I'm sorry, but we don't have any in this color. Could I show you a nice blue one?"

"No son, I want this color."

"But ma'am, they didn't make that color! Maybe a cherry red one would suit you?" says the owner, obviously worried about losing a sale.

By this time, the old lady gets mad, and starts throwing things at the owner, thereby chasing him out of the office and into the lot. One of the salesmen, coming into the office from the back door, notices the disruption and asks the secretary what the old woman was so upset about.

The secretary replies, "Apparently, Hale hath no Fury like the woman's corn!"

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πŸ‘€︎ u/CrotalusHorridus
πŸ“…︎ Jul 08 2019
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What do you call a squirrel with a necktie?

a branch manager

what do you call a barber with a corner office?

a head manager

what do you call a mannequin in a suit

the president

shout out to my girlfriend for groaning through these with a smile

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πŸ‘€︎ u/jessezoidenberg
πŸ“…︎ Nov 27 2018
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I was advised to post these here. I apologize in advance.

What did members of the Politburo wear to keep cool in the summer?

A: Lenin suits

What did the Soviet General Secretary say when he slipped and fell on ice in front of the Kremlin?

A: That'll leave a Marx!

What did the Commissar say to the workers on the collective farm when they slacked off?

A: Stop Stalin and get to work!

What did the Chinese President say when he stubbed his toe?

A: Mao! That hurts!

An officer in the Iranian army is talking to a subordinate.

The officer says, "Private, I think it's gonna rain."

The private says, "You think so, sir? The sky is completely clear and the sun is shining."

20 minutes later it starts to rain, a total deluge ensues.

The private says, "That was an amazing prediction, sir!. It did rain!"

The officer looks at the private, pats him on the shoulder and says, "Private, Ayatollah you so."

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πŸ‘€︎ u/crookedletter
πŸ“…︎ Nov 21 2018
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Like a demonic possession, this joke took a hold of me this morning and would not let go. I'm sorry.

The CIA had changed its recruiting practices, what with all the recent leaks and other problems. So Mr. Johnson was more than a little surprised to see a pine tree, which was dressed in a rather nice suit, waiting outside his office when he arrived at 9 am. He asked his secretary, "Gladys, who is this?"

"Mr. Johnson, this is Mr. Cone, our newest hire. He wanted to talk with you about the Honduras assignment."

Mr. Johnson spoke to Mr. Cone in his office. His new pine tree colleague was very knowledgeable and well-spoken, but there was something about him that threw Mr. Johnson off. He tried to dismiss his concerns as imaginary, but it gnawed at him all through the morning. He barely touched his lunch, as some of the things Mr. Cone had said were still swirling around and around in his mind. He was sure something was wrong, so he went in to see the head of their office branch, Mr. Smith.

"Johnson! Come right in, come right in," said Mr. Smith, puffing on a cigar. Mr. Johnson poured himself a tumbler of whiskey and sipped at it nervously.

"You're being rather quiet today, Johnson. Tell me, what's troubling you?"

"It's just this new guy, Mr. Cone," Mr. Johnson said carefully, staring at the bottom of his whiskey glass. "Are we sure we know him as well as we think we do?"

Mr. Smith took only a small puff from his cigar before letting his hand rest back on his desk. "Now really, Johnson," he sighed, "you're a good agent. Your caution has served you well in the past, but paranoia doesn't look so good on you. Mr. Cone has the most impressive resumΓ© I've seen come across my desk in the last fifteen years. I've personally had him vetted by the best men in the business. He's going to be an asset to this office."

That was the response Mr. Johnson had been afraid of getting, but he continued to press his cause. "I understand that, sir. It's just that I'm getting the strangest feeling from this Cone fellow. Don't you think he's a little too perfect? A little too well-qualified?"

Mr. Smith stopped smoking his cigar altogether. A distant look came into his eyes as he mulled over the possibilities. "You don't suppose--"

"Yes," said Mr. Johnson, "I think he's a plant."

Note: I'm a mom, not a dad, but I'm pretty sure I only thought of this because my father-in-law tortures me with these kinds of stories almost constantly.

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πŸ‘€︎ u/Larny-Arny
πŸ“…︎ Sep 01 2014
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