A new patient was quite upset when the doctor’s nurse led him to a small, curtained cubicle and told him to undress.
“But I only want the doctor to look at an ingrown toenail!” he protested.
“Our rule is that everyone must undress,” replied the blond nurse.
“That’s a stupid rule,” grumbled the patient, “making me undress just to look at my toe.”
“That’s nothing,” growled a voice from the next cubicle. “I just came to fix the phones!”
One night the 96-year-old draws a bath, puts his foot in, and pauses.
He yells down the stairs, “Was I getting in or out of the bath?”
The 94-year-old yells, “I don’t know, I’ll come up and see.”
He starts up the stairs and pauses, then yells, “Was I going up the stairs or coming down?”
The 92-year-old was sitting at the kitchen table having coffee listening to his brothers.
He shakes his head and says, “I sure hope I never get that forgetful.”
He knocks on wood for good luck.
He then yells, “I’ll come up and help both of you as soon as I see who’s at the door.”
They look at each other and then walk in because they think this is too good to be true.
The old bartender says in a voice that crosses the room, “Come on in and let me pour you one!” What will it be, gentlemen? ”
There seemed to be a fully stocked bar, so each man asked for a martini. In short order, the bartender served four iced Martinis… shaken, not stirred, and said, ‘That’ll be 10 cents each, please.’
The four men stare at the bartender for a moment. Then look at each other, and they can’t believe their good luck.
They pay the 40 cents, finish their martinis, and order another round.
Again, four excellent martinis are produced and the bartender repeats, ‘That’s 40 cents, please..’
They pay the 40 cents, but their curiosity is more than they can stand.
They have each had two Martini and have spent less than a dollar so far.
Finally one of the men says, “How can you afford to serve Martinis as good as these for 10 cents each?’
“I’m a retired tailor from Sydney,” said the bartender, “and I’ve always wanted to own a bar.” Last year, I hit the lottery for $25 million and decided to open this place. Each drink costs ten cents – it’s all the same. ”
Impressive!!!! That’s quite a story,’ says one of the men.
The four of them sipped their Martini and couldn’t help but notice seven other people at the end of the bar who didn’t have drinks in front of them and hadn’t ordered anything all the time they were there.
One man points to the seven at the end of the bar without drinking and asks the bartender, ‘What’s with them?’
The bartender says, “Oh, they’re all grey nomads from the caravan park, waiting for happy hour when drinks are half price.’
LOL!!
Hope this joke makes you happy! Have a nice day!!
God comes and says, “I want the men to make two lines. One line for the men that dominated their women on earth and the other line for the men that were dominated by their women. Also, I want all the women to go with St. Peter.”
With that said and done, the next time God looked, the women are gone and there are two lines.
The line of the men that were dominated by their women was 100 miles long, and in the line of men that dominated their women, there was only one man.
God got mad and said, “You men should be ashamed of yourselves. I created, you in my image and you were all whipped by your mates. Look at the only,one of my sons that stood up and made me proud. Learn from him! Tell them my son, how did you manage to be the only one in this line?”
And the man replied, “I don’t know, my wife told me to stand here.”
“How long is a billion years to you?”
God says, “A billion years is like a second to me.”
The man asks, “Well, how much is a billion dollars to you?”
God says, “A billion dollars is like a penny to me.”
So the man says, “God, can I have a penny?”
And God replies, “In a sec.”
She gets up the nerve to rub her fingers over the wrinkles.
Then she touches her own face and looks more puzzled.
Finally the little girl asks, “Grandpa, did God make you?”
“He sure did honey, a long time ago,” replies her grandpa.
“Well, did God make me?” asks the little girl.
“Yes, He did, and that wasn’t too long ago,” answers her grandpa.
“Boy,” says the little girl, “He’s sure doing a lot better job these days isn’t He?”
“Sarge, I just got a telegram that Smith’s mother died yesterday. Better go tell him and send him in to see me.”
So the Sergeant calls for his morning formation and lines up all the troops. “Listen up, men,” says the Sergeant. “Johnson report to Personnel to sign some papers. The rest of you men report to the Motor Pool for maintenance. Oh by the way, Smith, your mother died, report to the commander.”
Later that day the Captain called the Sergeant into his office. “Hey, Sarge, that was a pretty cold way to inform Smith his mother died. Couldn’t you be a bit more tactful, next time?”
“Yes, sir,” answered the Sarge.
A few months later, the Captain called the Sergeant in again with, “Sarge, I just got a telegram that James mother died. You’d better go tell him and send him in to see me. This time be more tactful.”
So the Sergeant calls for his morning formation. “Ok, men, fall in and listen up.”
“Everybody with a mother, take two steps forward.”
“Not so fast, James!”
“Hey!” the passenger shouts. “Be careful!”
“Don’t worry,” says the driver. “My brother does it all the time.”
He barrels through the next red light, and the passenger screams, “Stop doing that!”
“I’m telling you, my brother does this all the time.”
They approach the next light. Just when it turns green, the driver slams on the brakes. The confused passenger asks, “You just ran two red lights; why’d you stop at a green?”
“I had to,” says the driver. “My brother might have been coming.”
Bawling out orders, he notices that one recruit shows little response.
“You there,” the sergeant shouts, “the imaginary enemy is advancing, and you are caught in the crossfire. Action!”
The recruit takes ten steps to one side.
“What are you doing, man?” yells the sergeant, purple with fury.
“I’m taking shelter behind an imaginary hill,” answers the recruit calmly.
The pawnbroker looks it up and down.
“Well, I can tell right now that there’s a little warping in the neck, the lacquer is faded, and there are scratches and dents all over it. It’s an old, well-played guitar, but I don’t think it’s worth any more than twenty bucks.”
The old man reaches his hand out and says.
“Okay, if that’s what you think it’s worth, you have a deal!”
“Great!” Replies the pawnbroker, shaking his hand.
“Here’s twenty bucks.” Says the old man.
“I’ll buy it right now!”
The broker stops and suddenly looks confused.
“Wait, buy?” He asks.
“Yes!” Smiles the old man as he flips the guitar over.
“This one has a sticker price of $150, but now that I have your honest opinion, I think twenty bucks is a great deal.”
LOL!!
Hope this joke will make you smile! Have a nice day!!
He sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn.
When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three more.
The bartender approaches and tells the old cowboy, “You know, a mug goes flat after I draw it. It would taste better if you bought one at a time.
The old man replies, “Well, I have two brothers. One is in Arizona, the other in Colorado. When we all left our home in Texas, we promised to drink this way to remember the days we drank together. That’s why I drink a beer for each of my brothers and one for myself.”
The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there.
The old man becomes a regular at the bar and always drinks the same way.
He orders three mugs and drinks them in turn.
One day he comes in and only orders two mugs.
All the regulars take notice and fall silent.
When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, “I don’t want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your loss.”
The old man looks quite confused for a moment, then light dawns in his eyes and he laughs.
“Oh, no, everybody’s just fine,” he explains.
“It’s just that my wife and I joined the Baptist Church and I had to quit drinking.”
“It hasn’t affected my brothers though.”
LOL!!
Hope this joke will make you smile! Have a nice day!!
When I picked up my son, Levi, from school last Thursday, he climbed into the backseat without saying a word. He usually won’t stop talking about recess or what he traded at lunch, but that day? Silent. His little face looked tight, like he was holding something back.
It wasn’t until we got home that he finally handed me the note from the principal. Apparently, his haircut “violated dress code standards.” I stared at it, confused, because Levi’s haircut is the same one his uncle—my brother—wears. A clean, short military cut. High and tight, nothing extreme.
Levi told me his teacher had pulled him aside in front of the class, said it was “distracting” and “too aggressive.” Then, they sent him to the office. He’s eight. How is a basic haircut aggressive on an eight-year-old?
What really got me was the part where they mentioned “corrective action” if it wasn’t changed by Monday. I’m still trying to figure out what exactly they mean by that. Suspension? Detention? For a haircut?
I called the school, but all they’d say is it’s about “maintaining a positive learning environment.” No one could explain why a military-style cut—one that’s common in plenty of families around here—was suddenly an issue.
Now Levi’s asking me if he did something wrong, if he has to grow his hair out to stay out of trouble. Meanwhile, my brother—who’s stationed overseas—called me this morning after I told him. Let’s just say, he’s not happy.
I’m supposed to meet with the principal tomorrow. But there’s something else I just found out tonight, something about another student who wasn’t disciplined for the exact same style…
I put the note down on the kitchen table, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten. Levi had already changed into his pajamas and was sitting on the couch, hugging a worn-out stuffed dog that my brother had sent him from his first deployment. That dog had been Levi’s comfort for years. It seemed fitting that he’d choose this particular night to cuddle it, a reminder of his uncle’s service.
“Buddy,” I said, walking over and ruffling his hair gently. “You know you haven’t done anything wrong, right?”
He nodded but didn’t look convinced. “They said it was too aggressive,” he whispered. “Are people scared of me because my hair is short?”
My heart twisted at the confusion in his eyes. “No one’s scared of you. Sometimes grown-ups make rules without thinking how they might hurt someone’s feelings. But we’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise.”
The next morning, I dropped Levi off at school, making sure to give him an extra-tight hug before he headed inside. While I waited in the front office for my meeting with the principal, I saw another boy run by with the exact same high-and-tight cut. His hair was even shorter than Levi’s. He paused in front of me when a teacher called him over, and I caught his name: Everett. The teacher didn’t say anything about his hair, didn’t hand him a note or take him to the office. Everett just went on his way like everything was fine.
My stomach churned. Why was Levi being singled out?
A few minutes later, the school secretary escorted me into the principal’s office. Principal Garcia was sitting behind his desk, a wide window behind him letting in a flood of morning sunlight. He offered me a stiff smile and gestured for me to sit in a chair across from him.
“I understand you’re concerned about the dress code violation,” he began, folding his hands on his desk.
“Yes,” I replied, keeping my tone calm. “I’d like to know why Levi’s haircut is considered a violation. There’s another boy in his grade with an identical style who hasn’t received any disciplinary note. Levi feels like he’s in trouble for something he can’t understand.”
Principal Garcia cleared his throat. “We try to keep the school environment free of distractions. Our policy states that haircuts deemed ‘extreme or disruptive’ are not allowed. Military cuts can be interpreted as aggressive–”
I couldn’t help interrupting. “He’s eight years old. He’s not part of a street gang, he’s not doing anything threatening—he’s just wearing the same haircut his uncle wears to serve our country. I don’t see how that’s disruptive.”
He shifted in his seat. “I hear your concerns. But we have to maintain consistency.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem very consistent if Everett, the other boy who has the same cut, isn’t in trouble. Why is it okay for him and not for Levi?”
Principal Garcia frowned. “I’m not aware of Everett’s specific haircut. But if it truly violates our policy, that should be addressed as well. I’ll look into it.”
We went back and forth for nearly half an hour. By the end of our conversation, the principal stuck to his stance: Levi had until Monday to alter his haircut, or there would be “corrective action.” When I pressed him about what exactly that meant, he vaguely mentioned in-school suspension or missing extracurricular activities. I left the office fuming, more confused than before.
Driving home, I decided I wasn’t going to let this go. Something about the whole situation felt unfair. I called my brother during his break. He was stationed halfway around the world, yet I could practically feel the heat of his anger through the phone. “This is ridiculous,” he said bluntly. “They’re shaming a kid for looking like a soldier? Like someone who’s willing to serve? Doesn’t make sense.”
I promised him I’d figure it out, and that I wouldn’t cut Levi’s hair any differently until I understood the real reason behind this policy. By Sunday evening, I’d made a few calls to other parents I knew. Most had never heard of the rule being enforced this strictly. A few told me they suspected the new teacher in Levi’s classroom, Ms. Reeves, had personal issues with anything military-related because of something that happened in her family a long time ago. No one had details, but the rumor was that Ms. Reeves’s father had served and never come home. Whether that rumor was true or not, I didn’t know. But it could explain why she might see a military-style haircut differently than other teachers did.
Monday morning rolled around too fast. Levi was anxious, chewing his lip the entire drive to school. I gave him another reassuring hug. “I’m going to do everything I can to keep you out of trouble,” I said. “Hang in there.”
Right after drop-off, I met up with Everett’s mom, a woman named Tasha, in the school parking lot. We’d arranged to talk after I’d contacted her on the school’s parent forum. She looked equally confused. “Everett’s had this haircut all year,” she told me. “No one’s ever said a thing about it. We cut it this short because he’s on the swim team and it’s easier to manage.”
She walked me inside, and we sought out the vice principal, Ms. Howard, hoping to get a more balanced perspective. Ms. Howard welcomed us into her smaller office, lined with books about conflict resolution and student psychology. She looked genuinely concerned as we explained the situation.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” she began gently, “but the principal does have final say on disciplinary matters. However, I can talk with Ms. Reeves and see if there’s a misunderstanding. I know she’s had a tough time adjusting to the new school year.”
Tasha and I exchanged a glance. So Ms. Reeves really might be dealing with personal trauma or a sensitivity to anything that symbolized the military. It was a delicate situation, to be sure, but it still felt wrong to punish an innocent child because of it. Ms. Howard promised she would speak with the teacher that afternoon and see if they could come to a fair resolution.
That afternoon, I got a call from Ms. Howard. “I spoke with Ms. Reeves,” she said in a calm voice. “She admitted she might have overreacted to Levi’s haircut. She hasn’t fully processed some things about her father’s passing. She’s agreed to revoke the disciplinary note, as long as you’ll come in for a meeting so she can apologize and explain the situation.”
Part of me was relieved. But a larger part of me still felt frustrated that Levi ever had to go through this. The next day, Levi and I sat with Ms. Reeves in a small conference room. She looked worn-out and remorseful. It took a few minutes, but eventually she told us how her father had served abroad, returned with severe PTSD, and later passed away from complications related to his service. She’d associated the military cut with a painful memory. Though it wasn’t an excuse, she wanted us to understand where her initial reaction came from.
“I’m sorry, Levi,” Ms. Reeves said quietly, her voice trembling. “I know it wasn’t fair to call your haircut ‘aggressive.’ I was projecting my personal pain onto you.”
Levi nodded, still a bit shy, but he looked relieved. I could see the tension easing in his little shoulders. We accepted Ms. Reeves’s apology, and it seemed like at least one part of this battle was coming to a close. Then she leaned forward, speaking directly to Levi. “My father was actually a hero, and he looked a lot like you with his hair that short. It just hit me the wrong way. I’ll make sure nothing like this happens again.”
Once Ms. Reeves withdrew the complaint, Principal Garcia didn’t push the issue any further. Everett’s mom, Tasha, offered to come forward if needed, but it didn’t look like we would have to fight anymore. I almost couldn’t believe how quickly it all turned around once we learned the painful backstory. It was a huge relief, though it also left me with a heavy heart for Ms. Reeves.
The bigger battle I’m facing now has less to do with Levi’s haircut and more to do with standing up for what’s right while still showing empathy. Sometimes people lash out for reasons we can’t see on the surface. Ms. Reeves, in her hurt, had projected her grief onto an innocent child, not realizing the harm it caused. It took me pushing back and asking questions—and Tasha standing by my side—to uncover the root of the problem. Instead of staying angry, I found more peace in understanding the pain behind Ms. Reeves’s actions.
By the end of the week, everything settled. Levi went back to his usual cheerful self, telling me about how Ms. Reeves was a lot nicer in class now. She’d even taken him aside and asked if he wanted to read a special story about heroes during free reading time. He told me she’d shown him a photo of her dad, who had the same haircut and a big smile. Levi said Ms. Reeves got a little teary-eyed, but she told him it was good to remember the people you love.
Here’s the thing I’ve learned: what might look like an unnecessary rule or a personal attack can sometimes be the result of someone’s deep, unspoken heartache. We never know what someone else might be carrying. While it’s always important to stand up for our kids (and ourselves), it’s also worth taking a moment to ask why the other person is acting the way they are. That might not excuse their behavior, but it does give us room for compassion. And compassion can change everything.
In the end, Levi kept his haircut. Ms. Reeves apologized. The principal admitted that the rule needed revisiting for clarity. And my brother, stationed overseas, called with a congratulatory shout, telling Levi that he looked sharp and to never let anyone make him feel bad about showing respect for the uniform.
I walked away from this experience reminded that battles aren’t always fought on physical fields; sometimes they’re waged in our hearts and minds. Standing up for your child can reveal bigger issues and lead to unexpected resolutions. If we’re brave enough to face them, we may find healing on both sides.
Always ask the next question. Don’t shy away from sticking up for what’s right, but remember to look deeper than anger and frustration. Hurt can wear many disguises, and sometimes, the simplest way to defuse a conflict is with kindness, persistence, and a willingness to listen.
If this story resonated with you, I’d appreciate it if you’d share it with friends and family—and don’t forget to hit the “like” button. Let’s keep conversations like this going, because you never know whose heart you’ll touch by speaking up.
He calmly told them, “I bought it today.”
“With what money? his parents asked. “We know what a Porsche costs.”
“Well,” the boy said, “this one cost me fifteen dollars.”
The parents began to scream even louder. “Who would sell a car like that for fifteen dollars?” They asked.
“It was the lady up the street,” said the boy.
“I don’t know her name – they just moved in. She saw me ride past on my bike and asked me if I wanted to buy a Porsche for fifteen dollars.”
“My God!” the mother moaned, “Why does she sell a Porsche for fifteen dollars? Who knows what she will do next? John, you go right up there and see what’s going on.”
So the boy’s father walked up the street to the house where the lady lived and found her in the yard, where she was quietly planting flowers.
He introduced himself as the father of the boy she had sold a Porsche for fifteen dollars and wanted to know why she did it.
“Well,” she said, “I got a call from my husband this morning. I thought he was on a business trip, but I learned from a friend that he had run off to Hawaii with his secretary. Then, she stole all his money and stranded him there!
Well, he called me without a dollar and asked me to sell his new Porsche and send him the money. So, that’s exactly what I did.”
LOL!!
Hope this joke will make you smile! Have a nice day!!
He asked the preacher if he could participate in the door-to-door selling of bibles.
The preacher agreed, but knowing the young man had a bad stutter, he only gave him 3 Bibles to sell.
The following day the young man returned asking for more.
The preacher gave him another 5 bibles.
The following day the preacher gave him another 10.
By the end of the week, the young man broke the church’s record for the highest number of bibles sales in one week.
The preacher believed that divine intervention had occurred
He was dumbfounded and had to know the young man’s secret.
So the preacher asked the young man how he was able to sell so many bibles in such a short amount of time.
The young man smiled and said,
“I asked th-th-them if th-th-they wanted to b-b-buy a bible or have m-m-me read it to th-th-them.”
He proceeds to walk into the water and subsequently bumps into the preacher.
The preacher turns around and is almost overcome by the smell of booze. Where upon he asks the drunk, “Are you ready to find Jesus?” The drunk answers, “Yes, I am.” So the preacher grabs him and dunks him in the water. He pulls him up and asks the drunk, “Brother have you found Jesus?” The drunk replies, “No, I haven’t found Jesus.”
The preacher, shocked at the answer, dunks him into the water again but for a little longer this time. He again pulls him out of the water and asks again, “Have you found Jesus, my brother?” The drunk again answers, “No, I haven’t found Jesus.”
By this time the preacher is at his wits end so he dunks the drunk in the water again — but this time he holds him down for about 30 seconds. When the drunk begins kicking his arms and legs, the preacher pulls him up. The preacher asked the drunk again, “For the love of God, have you found Jesus?
The drunk wipes his eyes and catches his breath and says to the preacher, “Are you sure this is where he fell in?”
One night his mother told him to go out to the back porch and bring her the broom.
The little boy turned to his mother and said: “Mama, I don’t want to go out there. It’s dark.”
The mother smiled reassuringly at her son. “You don’t have to be afraid of the dark,” she explained. “Jesus is out there. He’ll look after you and protect you.”
The little boy looked at his mother with a confused stare and asked: “Are you sure he’s out there?”
“Yes, I’m sure. He is everywhere, and he is always ready to help you when you need him,” she said.
The little boy thought about that for a minute and then went to the back door and cracked it a little. Peering out into the darkness, he called: “Jesus? If you’re out there, would you please hand me the broom?”
was concerned that his students might be a little confused about Jesus Christ because of the Christmas season emphasis on His birth. He wanted to make sure they understood that the birth of Jesus occurred a long time ago, that He grew up, etc.
So he asked his class, “Where is Jesus today?”
Steven raised his hand and said, “He’s in heaven.”
Mary was called on and answered, “He’s in my heart.”
Little Johnny, waving his hand furiously, blurted out, “I know! I know! He’s in our bathroom!”
The whole class got very quiet, looked at the teacher, and waited for a response. The teacher was completely at a loss for a few very long seconds. He finally gathered his wits and asked Little Johnny how he knew this.
And Little Johnny said, “Well… every morning, my father gets up, bangs on the bathroom door, and yells ‘Jesus Christ, are you still in there?’”
His neighbor, noticing his gloomy demeanor, walked over to check on him.
“Hey, what’s got you so down?” the neighbor asked.
The man sighed, barely lifting his eyes. The neighbor tried again, but the man just shook his head.
Finally, the neighbor persisted, “Come on, what happened?”
The man sighed deeply and said, “I messed up. I answered one of those tricky questions women ask, and now I’m in the doghouse.”
“What kind of question?” the neighbor asked, curious.
“My wife asked me if I’d still love her when she’s old, fat, and ugly.”
The neighbor chuckled, “That’s easy! You just say, ‘Of course, I will.’ Problem solved!”
The man shook his head and groaned, “Yeah, that’s what I *meant* to say. But what actually came out was, ‘Of course, I do.’”
LOL!!
Hope this joke will make you smile! Have a nice day!
The husband is behind the wheel.
His wife suddenly looks across at him and speaks in a clear voice. “I know we have been married for over twenty years, but I want a divorce.”
The husband says nothing.
He keeps looking at the road ahead but slowly increases his speed to 45mph.
The wife speaks again. “I don’t want you to try to talk me out of it.”
She says, “Because I’ve been having an affair with your best friend, and he is a far better lover than you are.”
Again the husband stays quiet but grips the steering wheel more tightly and slowly increases the speed to 55mph.
She pushes her luck.
“I want a house.” She says insistently.
Up to 60 mph.
“I want the car, too.” She continues.
65mph.
“And,” she says, “I’ll have the bank accounts, all the credit cards, and the boat!”
The car slowly starts veering towards a massive concrete bridge.
This makes her nervous, so she asks him, “Isn’t there anything you want?”
The husband at last replies in a quiet and controlled voice.
“No, I’ve got everything I need, ” he says.
“Oh, really,” she inquires. “So what have you got?”
Just before they slam into the wall at 65mph, the husband turns to her and smiles.
“The airbag!”
LOL!!
Hope this joke will make you smile! Have a nice day!!
The driver of the Yugo rolls down his window and shouts to the driver of the Rolls, “Hey, buddy, that’s a nice car. You got a phone in your Rolls? I’ve got one in my Yugo!”
The driver of Rolls looks over and says simply, “Yes I have a phone.”
The driver of the Yugo says, “Cool! Hey, you got a fridge in there too? I’ve got a fridge in the back seat of my Yugo!”
The driver of the Rolls, looking annoyed, says, “Yes, I have a refrigerator.”
The driver of the Yugo says, “That’s great, man! Hey, you got a TV in there, too? You know, I got a TV in the back seat of my Yugo!”
The driver of the Rolls, looking very annoyed by now, says, “Of course I have a television. A Rolls-Royce is the finest luxury car in the world!”
The driver of the Yugo says, “Very cool car! Hey, you got a bed in there, too? I got a bed in the back of my Yugo!”
Upset that he did not have a bed, the driver of the Rolls-Royce sped away, and went straight to the dealer, where he promptly ordered that a bed be installed in the back of the Rolls. The next morning, the driver of the Rolls picked up the car. The bed looked superb, complete with silk sheets and brass trim. It was clearly a bed fit for a Rolls Royce.
So the driver of the Rolls begins searching for the Yugo, and he drove all day. Finally, late at night, he finds the Yugo parked, with all the windows fogged up from the inside. The driver of the Rolls got out and knocked on the Yugo. When there wasn’t any answer, he knocked and knocked, and eventually the owner stuck his head out, soaking wet.
“I now have a bed in the back of my Rolls-Royce,” the driver of the Rolls stated arrogantly.
The driver of the Yugo looked at him and said, “You got me out of the shower for that?!”
Miraculously, she managed to pry herself from the wreckage without a scratch and was applying fresh lipstick when the state trooper arrived.
“My God!” the trooper gasped. “Your car looks like an accordion that was stomped on by an elephant. Are you OK ma’am?”
“Yes, officer, I’m just fine.” the blond chirped.
“Well, how in the world did this happen?” the officer asked as he surveyed the wrecked car.
“Officer, it was the strangest thing!” the blond began.
“I was driving along this road when from out of nowhere
this TREE pops up in front of me. So I swerved to the right, and there was another tree
I swerved to the left and there was ANOTHER tree
I served to the right and there was another tree I swerved to the left and there was…”
“Uh, ma’am?”, the officer said, cutting her off, “There isn’t a tree on this road for 30 miles. That was your air freshener swinging back and forth.”