A well dressed business man was walking down the street when a little kid covered in soot said to him respectfully, “Sir, can you tell me the time?”
The portly man stopped, carefully unbuttoned his coat and jacket, removed a large watch from a vest pocket, looked at it and said, “It is a quarter to three, young man.”
“Thanks,” said the boy. “At exactly three o’clock you can kiss my ass.”
With that, the kid took off running, and with an angry cry, the outraged businessman started chasing him. He had not been running long when an old friend stopped him.
“Why are you running like this at your age?” asked the friend.
Gasping and almost incoherent with fury, the business man said, “That little brat asked me the time and when I told him it was quarter to three he told me that at exactly three, I should kiss his ass!”
“So what’s your hurry,” said the friend. “You still have ten minutes.”

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Jones came into the office an hour late for the third time in one week and found the boss waiting for him.
“What’s the story this time, Jones?” he asked sarcastically. “Let’s hear a good excuse for a change.”
Jones sighed, “Everything went wrong this morning, Boss. The wife decided to drive me to the station. She got ready in ten minutes, but then the drawbridge got stuck. Rather than let you down, I swam across the river — look, my suit’s still damp — ran out to the airport, got a ride on Mr. Thompson’s helicopter, landed on top of Radio City Music Hall, and was carried here piggyback by one of the Rockettes.”
“You’ll have to do better than that, Jones,” said the boss, obviously disappointed. “No woman can get ready in ten minutes.”
Bernie was invited to his friend’s home for dinner. Morris, the host, preceded every request to his wife by endearing terms, calling her Honey, My Love, Darling, Sweetheart, Pumpkin, etc.
Bernie looked at Morris and remarked, “That is really nice, that after all these years that you have been married, you keep calling your wife those pet names.”
Morris hung his head and whispered,” To tell the truth, I forgot her name three years ago.”
Bubba was from the lower valley, and he decided he wanted to get married to his sweetheart. So, while enjoying some grits and gravy for dinner one evening, Bubba brought up the subject with his Ma and Pa.
“Bubba, you can’t get married yet,” insisted Ma. “You’re the baby of the family.”
“But Ma,” Bubba protested, “I just had my 38th birthday last week.”
“We know that, Bubba,” Pa chimed, “but your Ma and me think you should put off getting married until after you graduate from high school.”
A man was called in for an audit by the IRS. So, he asked his accountant for advice on what to wear.
“Wear your worst clothing and an old pair of shoes. Let them think you are a pauper,” the accountant replied.
Then he asked his lawyer the same question, but got the opposite advice: “Don’t let them intimidate you. Wear your best suit and an expensive tie.”
Confused, the man went to his Minister, told him of the conflicting advice, and asked him what he should do.
“Let me tell you a story,” replied the Minister. “A woman, about to be married, asked her mother what to wear on her wedding night. ‘Wear a heavy, long, flannel nightgown that goes right up to your neck and wool socks.’ But when she asked her best friend, she got conflicting advice: “Wear your most sexy negligee, with a V-neck right down to your navel.'”
The man protested: “But Reverend, what does all this have to do with my problem with the IRS?”
“It doesn’t matter what you wear; you’re going to get screwed.”