Two bored casino dealers were waiting at a craps table. A very attractive blonde woman arrived and bet 20 thousand dollars on a single roll of the dice.

She said, "I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm completely nude."

With that she stripped from her neck down, rolled the dice and yelled, "Mama needs new clothes!" Then she hollered, "Yes! Yes! I won! I won!" She jumped up and down and hugged each of the dealers. She then picked up all the money and clothes and quickly departed.

The dealers just stared at each other dumbfounded. Finally, one of them asked, "What did she roll?"

The other answered, "I don't know, I thought you were watching!"

Moral: Not all blondes are dumb, but all men are men.

A woman out shopping sees a counter marked "Sex Frogs," and goes to check it out. She asks the man behind the counter, "What's this?"

He replies, "Oh these are going very well. You buy a frog and take it home in a box, and when you are ready for bed, you put the frog on your pillow, and we guarantee that you will have the best night ever."

The woman whispers to him, "Okay then, I'll take one."

He puts a frog into a box, and points out the label with the instructions. "If you have any problems, there is a help line phone number on the box."

That night, she gets ready for bed, puts the frog on her pillow, and gets into bed. Nothing happens.

She feels so disappointed that she gets up and checks the box. It says: In case of any complaint, please phone this number." She phones the number and 10 minutes later, a man appears at her door.

"Show me where the frog is," he says.

She takes him upstairs and points to the frog, still sitting on her pillow. The man picks up the frog and says, "Okay, I'm only going to show you how to do this one more time."

On a train from London to Manchester, an American was berating the Englishman sitting across from him in the compartment. "You English are too stuffy. You set yourselves apart too much. You think your stiff upper lips make your above the rest of us. Look at me...I'm me, I have Italian blood, French blood, a little Indian blood, and some Swedish blood. What do you say to that?"

So the Englishman replied, "Very sporting of your mother."

Santa was very cross. It was Xmas Eve and nothing was going right. Mrs. Claus had burned all the cookies.  The elves were complaining about not getting paid for the overtime they had while making the toys. The reindeer had been drinking all afternoon and were dead drunk. To make matters worse, they had taken the sleigh out earlier and had crashed it into a tree.

Santa was furious.  "I can't believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over the world in just a few hours - all of my reindeer are drunk, the elves are on strike and I don't even have a Christmas tree! I sent that stupid Little Angel out hours ago to find a tree and he isn't even back yet!  What am I going to do?"

Just then, the Little Angel opened the front door and stepped in from the snowy night, dragging a Christmas tree.  He says, "Yo, fat man! Where do you want me to stick the tree this year?."

And thus the tradition of angels atop the Christmas trees came to pass.

Barbra Walters was doing a documentary on the customs of American Indians.  After a tour of a reservation they were on, she was curious as to the number of feathers in the headdresses. She asked a brave who had only one feather in his headdress.  His reply was, "one feather, one squaw."

She asked another brave, feeling the first fellow was only joking.  This brave had four feathers in his headdress.  He  replied,  "Four feathers, four squaws."

Still not convinced the number of feathers indicated the number of squaws involved, she decided to interview the Chief.  Now the Chief had a headdress full of feathers which, needless to say, amused Ms. Walters.

Ms. W:  "Why do you have so many feathers in your headdress?"
Chief:  "Me Chief,  fuck-em all, big, small, fat, tall, fuck-em all."
Ms. W:  "You ought to be hung!"
Chief:  "Damned right, me hung.  Big like buffalo, long like snake."

Ms. W:  "You don't have to be so hostile!"
Chief:  "Hoss-style, dog-style, wolf-style, any-style,  fuck-em all."
Ms. W:  "Oh, dear!"
Chief:  "No deer.  Bum too high, run too fast."

A high school English teacher reminds her class of tomorrow's final exam.

She tells the class that there would be no excuse for not showing up, except for serious injury or illness, or a death in the student's immediate family.

A smart-ass jock in the back of the room asks, "What about extreme sexual exhaustion?"
The entire class does its best to stifle their laughter and snickering.

When silence is restored, the teacher smiles sympathetically at the student, shakes her head, and says sweetly, "Not an excuse. You can write with your other hand."