todays funny

[chasswen]

Below is an actual letter that was sent to a bank by an 86-year-old woman. The bank manager thought it amusing enough to have it published in the New York Times.


Dear Sir:


I am writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I endeavored to pay my plumber last month.
By my calculations, three nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the check and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honor it.
I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my entire pension, an arrangement which, I admit, has been in place for only eight years. You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and also for debiting my account $30 by way of penalty for the inconvenience caused to your bank. My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused me to rethink my errant financial ways.


I noticed that whereas I personally answer your telephone calls and letters, --- when I try to contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, overcharging, pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has become.


From now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-blood person. My mortgage and loan repayments will therefore and hereafter no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed personally and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate.
Be aware that it is an offense under the Postal Act for any other person to open such an envelope. Please find attached an Application Contact which I require your chosen employee to complete. I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much about him or her as your bank knows about me, there is no alternative. Please note that all copies of his or her medical history must be countersigned by a Notary Public, and the mandatory details of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof. In due course, at MY convenience, I will issue your employee with a PIN number which he/she must quote in dealings with me.
I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modeled it on the number of button presses required of me to access my account balance on your phone bank service. As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.


Let me level the playing field even further.
When you call me, press buttons as follows:
IMMEDIATELY AFTER DIALING, PRESS THE STAR (*) BUTTON FOR ENGLISH
#1. To make an appointment to see me.
#2. To query a missing payment.
#3. To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there.
#4. To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping.
#5. To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature.
#6. To transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home.
#7. To leave a message on my computer, a password to access my computer is required. Password will be communicated to you at a later date to that Authorized Contact mentioned earlier.
#8. To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7.
#9. To make a general complaint or inquiry. The contact will then be put on hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service.
#10. This is a second reminder to press* for English. While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for the duration of the call.


Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement. May I wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous New Year?


Your Humble Client


Remember: Don't make old ladies mad. They don't like being old in the first place, so it doesn't take much to set them off.

[chasswen]

Little Bruce and Jenny are only 10 years old, but they just know that they are in love. One day they decide that they want to get married, so Bruce goes to Jenny's father to ask him for her hand.

Bruce bravely walks up to him and says, 'Mr. Smith, me and Jenny are in love and I want to ask you for her hand in marriage.'

Thinking that this was just the cutest thing, Mr. Smith replies, 'Well Bruce, you are only 10. Where will you two live?'

Without even taking a moment to think about it, Bruce replies, 'In Jenny's room. It's bigger than mine and we can both fit there nicely.'

Still thinking this is just adorable, Mr.. Smith says with a huge grin, 'Okay then how will you live? You're not old enough to get a job. You'll need to support Jenny.'

Again, Bruce instantly replies, 'Our allowance. Jenny makes 5 bucks a week and I make 10 bucks a week. That's about 60 bucks a month and that should do us just fine.'

By this time Mr. Smith is a little shocked that Bruce has put so much thought into this. He thinks for a moment trying to come up with something that Bruce won't have an answer to.

After a second, Mr. Smith says, 'Well Bruce, it seems like you have got everything all figured out. I just have one more question for you. What will you do if the two of you should have little ones of your own?'

Bruce just shrugs his shoulders and says,

'Well, we've been lucky so far.'

Mr. Smith no longer thinks the little shit is adorable.

[chasswen]

A man feared his wife wasn't hearing as well as
she used to and he
thought she might need a hearing aid. Not quite
sure how to approach
her, he called the family Doctor to discuss the
problem
The Doctor told him there is a simple informal
test the husband could
perform to give the Doctor a better idea about
her hearing loss.

Here's what you do,' said the Doctor, 'stand
about 40 feet away from
her, and in a normal conversational speaking
tone see if she hears you.
If not, go to 30 feet, then 20 feet, and so on
until you get a response.'
That evening, the wife is in the kitchen cooking
dinner, and he was
in the den. He says to himself, 'I'm about 40
feet away, let's see what happens.' Then in a normal tone he asks,
'Honey, what's for dinner?'

No response.

So the husband moves closer to the kitchen,
about 30 feet from his
wife and repeats, 'Honey, what's for dinner?'

Still no response.

about 20 feet from wife and asks, 'Honey, what's for dinner?Again he gets no response.

So, he walks up to the kitchen door, about 10
feet away. 'Honey,
what's for dinner?' Again there is no response.

So he walks right up behind her. 'Honey, what's
for dinner?'

(I just love this)

'Ralph, for the FIFTH F*ing' time, it's CHICKEN!!!!'