A group of retirees were discussing their medical problems at the Senior Center while having their morning coffee. 

"Do you realize," said one, "my arm is so weak I can hardly hold this coffee cup." 

"Yes, I know." replied the second, "My cataracts are so bad I can't see to pour the coffee." 

"I can't turn my head," rejoined the third, "because of the arthritis in my neck."

"My blood pressure pills make my dizzy," commented the fourth, adding, "I guess that's the price we pay for getting old."

"Well, it's not all bad." piped up the first, "We should be thankful that we can still drive."

Dr. Walter Stein was a mad scientist. He would freely admit the fact, since he met all of the qualifications you'd see in any movie or comic book: brilliantly and erratically intelligent, prone to building amazing creations that defied the known laws of physics, interesting hairdo. His latest invention was a shrinking ray. He had worked nearly all the bugs out of it but was still trying to figure out a practical application for it, especially since he hadn't gotten around to making the enlarging ray yet. One day he and his lab assistant Fred were fine-tuning the aiming mechanism when the device stopped working. Walter rummaged around near the target area and realized the power cord had been hit by the ray and shrunk enough to come out of the wall socket. He got a replacement cord and as he was plugging it in he realized that he had forgotten to turn the ray off! In a matter of seconds Dr. Walter Stein was a mere six inches tall!

He called out to Fred but his tiny piping voice didn't carry far. Eventually Fred came in and noticed the ray was still firing so he shut it off. That was when he saw his boss there on the pad, frantically waving his arms. Fred rescued him and they set to work on designing the enlarging ray. Walter would write out the design on a fragment of paper and Fred would use a magnifying glass to read them and transfer them to a full-size plan to begin building it. 

Walter did fine with his regular bodily requirements, as even the smallest crumb of food was a banquet and a drop of water could last most of the day. But he began having other physical urges that he could not satisfy. He confided in Fred that he would like the company of a woman but due to his size he would not be able to find proper relief. They hatched a scheme: Fred would go and hire some prostitutes, bring them to the lab and activate the ray again so Walter would have some company. Once the enlarger was working they would be returned to normal. So Fred set out to the "right" part of town to find a couple of candidates.

He found two girls who were young and attractive and offered them double their usual rate to come to a party at his "house". They agreed and came over at the appointed time. But when Fred led them into the laboratory, with all of the weird machinery and odd smells they became suspicious. When he tried to force them onto the ray's target area they fought back and bolted from the laboratory. Walter remained unsatisfied, which proves the notion that you can lead the whores to Walter but you can't make them shrink.

What do you call a dog that likes bubble baths?
 
A shampoodle!

There was a woman who grew fruit in a village. One day after very hard work she saw the most magnificent berries she had ever seen. They were so fantastic, she asked her neighbors to come by and see them. When the neighbors saw them, they were filled with nothing but high accolades for the fruit. Word spread and soon everyone in the kingdom went to see the magnificent berries. 

The king however was not pleased. Since everyone was staring at the fruit no work was getting done. He sent his guards to get the bushes and bring them to him. 

When the guards arrives at her house, they knocked on the door. Her husband answered the door and said," Hello, have you come to pay homage to the magnificent fruit?" 

"NO", said the guard. "We come to seize her berries, not to praise them"

What is a cat’s favorite breakfast?

Mice krispies.

The patriots of the American Revolution should not have succeeded. England was one of the most powerful nations in the world and had the ragtag rebels out-manned, out-gunned, out-trained and had far deeper pockets. No one ruled the high seas like the British navy and with Redcoat troops stationed everywhere it's amazing that even one victory could have occurred, much less the birth of a new nation.

As a result, the founders had to act with utmost secrecy. Many colonists were loyal to the Crown and would turn in any of the American patriots they heard plotting against the King. These loyalists looked no different than anyone else, of course, and spies could be anywhere. The circles of rebels were careful who they let in on their plans but even then it was possible for a Loyalist to eavesdrop on meetings that were not well-guarded.

In more rural locations it was found that a hen house was the ideal meeting place. Roosters in the yard were extremely territorial, so everyone in the clandestine meetings would be alerted by the sounds of a squawking or crowing cockerel if a sneaky British sympathizer stole near. Once this was found to be effective the patriots spread the word, and it became common practice to let a chicken catch a Tory.

What do fish take to stay healthy?

Vitamin sea.

What do you call an exploding monkey?

A baboom!

Ahmed was the youngest son of a caliph but was favored by his father for his perceptiveness and wit, though certainly not for his looks. When Ahmed came of age his father decided to send him out into the world to make his fortune. As a parting gift he told his son he could go into his treasure rooms and take any one thing he wanted. The caliph's treasure room held many marvels, both of gold and jewels as well as magical items. Ahmed decided he would take the goose that laid golden eggs, as that would provide him with income for as long as he needed. The caliph congratulated Ahmed on his wise choice and tearfully bade his son goodbye.

Ahmed traveled for several days to a nearby city, collecting a golden egg each morning. When he got there he traded them for coins and began building his new life. Soon, with the aid of the goose plus his own innate business sense, Ahmed became quite a success. He spent every waking hour working on new ways to make money and improve his business prospects, barely taking time to sleep or eat. Within a few years his wealth rivaled that of most of the richest princes in the land! He constructed a palatial house for himself and even managed to find a male goose to impregnate his own. Soon she laid a special egg which hatched into a female gosling who, when grown, would also produce the golden eggs. 

One thing Ahmed's success could not bring was an end to his loneliness. He didn't have time to find a wife, and any women who flirted with him, he decided, were probably more interested in his money than his heart. Then one day a representative of the sultan came to see him.

"Ahmed, I see you have all that wealth can buy. And rumor is that you have a goose which lays golden eggs which will keep you all the days of your life." the emissary said.

"That is true," Ahmed responded.

"Yet you are not happy. The Sultan knows of this and also how to cure your woes. He also knows that you have a young goose who will one day lay golden eggs as well. He proposes a trade."

"A trade?" Ahmed asked. "For what would I give a source of perpetual wealth that would be worthy?"

"Why, wives, of course!" the emissary answered. "Thirty beautiful wives, of all sizes and shapes. Some tall, some short, some buxom, some slim. All catering to your every desire. And all dancers of the top caliber! For the young goose, the Sultan will provide them to you. You will be the envy of every man in the country!"

Ahmed thought it over. That would address his problem with the women wanting him for his wealth. And with thirty of them, all would be competing with the others for his favor. He wouldn't miss the young goose since he already had one. This was a wonderful idea!

He agreed to the terms and the emissary said he would return in a week. Ahmed ordered rooms prepared for his new wives and each day became more and more excited.

The next week the emissary returned. "I will take the goose now," he said, "and the women will be along in the next week or so."

"That was not our agreement!" Ahmed stormed. "What are you trying to pull? If I hand over the goose I may never see the promised wives!"

"I assure you, the Sultan's word is as good as mine!" the emissary protested.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Ahmed countered. "But you know my terms: no harem, no fowl!"

Why shouldn’t you put a baby’s dirty diapers in the laundry bin? 

You wouldn’t want to hamper his movements!

Holmes and Watson were summoned to the manor house of the Barclay-Alston estate. Sir Wilfred Barclay-Alston had been found dead in his bed while his young and beautiful wife Edwina was out of town. The family physician had been called and declared him dead of natural causes but the late lord's nephew Philip suspected foul play. 

The pair arrived and began interviewing all of the staff. The maid and butler heard and saw nothing out of the ordinary and the gardener had been watching television in his cottage before going to bed and had seen no horses or carriages come or go.

When they talked to the physician, who had been a guest of the manor the night of the death, he showed them the body of Sir Wilfred. The elderly man had several lingering health problems, so death from one of those was not unexpected.

Holmes and Watson insisted on conducting a thorough examination of the corpse themselves. Holmes peered into the eyes and sniffed at the mouth of the late lord and pondered a moment. "Watson," he announced, "Double check the body, looking for a puncture wound somewhere. Probably in a fleshy place near a large muscle."

Watson undertook the additional examination, borrowing Holmes' magnifying glass to look everywhere. "Aha!" he exclaimed. "Here, Holmes! I've found it!"

Holmes hurried over. Watson had turned the body over and pointed to a small red pinprick on the left buttock of Lord Barclay-Alston. "Here, just on the side. There is a small hole. And here on his nightshirt is a tiny spot of blood where he was injected with something!"

The pair of them moved the body off the bed and after a search found a syringe which had been cleverly placed under the mattress so that when the old man climbed into his usual spot it would pierce the gluteal muscle, his weight depressing the plunger. Holmes removed the syringe and, sniffing the empty barrel, announced, "Curare! Just as I had suspected. It's evident the Lady Edwina and the doctor were having an affair and did Lord Wilfred in while she was away to deflect suspicion."

Watson goggled at his friend. "How did you ever deduce that I should check for a puncture wound?" he inquired.

"It was elementary, Watson. The lord showed all the signs of having been fatally affected by a nerve toxin. I didn't detect any residue on his breath. The physician mentioned having spent some time as a missionary in South America, so he would have known about curare. And when you found Lord Wilfred had been punctured in the backside it confirmed that it was a case of arse nicked poisoning."

What does a cat say when somebody steps on its tail?

Me-ow!

Millions of viewers followed the weekly antics of the castaways on Gilligan's Island. But not much is known of their lives following their inevitable rescue.

The Howells, of course, returned to their opulent lives. But never one to pass up a prime business opportunity, Thurston discovered the lush tropical island had no owner and he secured it for himself. Soon he built a fabulous resort there. Jonas Grumby wrote a best-selling book about their adventures and opened a bar at the Howell's resort where his gregariousness and interesting stories made it a success. Roy Hinkley wanted to return to teaching but the Howells bankrolled some of his invention ideas which were remarkable successes for both of them. 

Ginger Grant returned to Hollywood but her absence from the spotlight for so long doomed her to starring in sleazy exploitative B movies. Mary Ann Summers was the surprise, as she agreed to pose nude as a Playboy magazine centerfold. Her life-sized poster, wearing nothing but a bit of her famous coconut cream pie in strategic places, adorned the wall of nearly every teenage boy in America.

The final castaway, Gilligan, reenlisted in the Navy to try and model himself on his friend and mentor the Skipper. Unfortunately his careless nature and lack of common sense led to his being the recipient of frequent additional duties, some designed to teach him better naval skills. One night, to teach him more meticulousness in his duties, he was tasked to count the links in an anchor chain and note whether he had to clean the dried seaweed and any barnacles from each using the provided broom. He listed each one on a sheet and as he started to brush the first one a seahawk landed on it and proceeded to defecate on it. That annoyed him, so he swung the broom at the bird to shoo it away. The bird fluttered for a moment and landed on the chain again, squawking annoyingly at him. He swung at it again, missing, and the bird landed again on the chain. This went on for some time, making Gilligan more and more perturbed at the persistent avian as time went on.

Just as the sun peeked over the horizon the executive officer, who had assigned him the task, came by to check on his progress. Seeing the sad state of the anchor chain he called Gilligan to attention and insisted that he give an accounting for why he had not completed the job.

"I'm sorry sir," Gilligan apologized sheepishly. "I tossed a tern all night and couldn't sweep a link!"

How does a dog stop a video?

He presses the paws button.

Young Tim had always wanted to be a wizard. He went from tower to tower but none of the magicians or thaumaturgists had any openings. He was about to give up when he happened across a magic shop and went in to inquire if the owner knew of anyone looking to apprentice an eager lad such as himself.

It turns out that the owner, Reginald the Magnificent, was himself looking for an apprentice, so they worked out an agreeable arrangement and Tim moved into the loft over the store. Tim worked sweeping and keeping inventory until he learned the ways of the shop. When he had proven himself capable Reginald decided it was time to teach him how he made some of the items he sold. Tim started with simple healing salves, then moved to potions for gout and eventually love potions and more complex mixtures. After a few months Reginald decided that Tim had a good enough grasp to move on to some more complex items.

"Tim, my lad," Reginald said one day, "today you are going to learn to make a talisman for luck. It's one of our biggest sellers and fairly simple to make, though the ingredients needed are rather difficult to come by. I'll give you a list and you go find the items and bring them here and we'll get to work making them." 

Tim looked over the list. There were all sorts of things listed: four-leafed clovers, hair from a black cat, a lodestone, a tortoise shell, etc. But one thing stood out. "Reggie, you said these were hard to find. What's so hard about finding the shell of a chicken egg? Those are everywhere."

"Ah, but it can't be just any egg shell," Reginald cautioned. "This is the shell of an egg where, when the chick was born, instead of pecking his way out of the shell he pulls the pieces inward! Quite rare, you know."

Tim thought that was ridiculous. Who had ever heard of a chick hatching like that? But he set off with his pack and his list, planning to be gone for a couple of days. Once on the road he stopped in a clover field and found a number of the four-leafed variety after some searching. He went into the forest and found the tortoise shell, and by the river he found the loadstone. He gathered the items one by one until he was down to the last two. He happened by a farmhouse and saw a black cat outside, so he went to the farmer mending the winch on his well and asked if he could have a tuft of the fur. The farmer agreed and asked Tim what he needed it for.

"It's for something my master is making," he said. Then he noticed some chickens in the yard. "Say, do you happen to have any egg shells I can have?"

"Certainly," the farmer replied. "We've got as many as you can probably carry."

"These are special ones," Tim continued. He explained the hatching process to the farmer, who looked at him sideways for a moment before bursting out laughing. 

"Boy, your master is having you on! No chick ever hatched that way! He's sent you on a fool's errand, he has."

Tim was beside himself, first angry and then embarrassed. It must be some sort of trick masters played on their new apprentices to teach them wisdom or something. Tim thanked the farmer and took a handful of the eggshells he had in the henhouse before setting off back to town.

When he returned Reginald looked over the supplies with surprise. He told Tom he had done better than he had expected and they would get to work the next morning making the talismans. Tim spent the rest of the afternoon cutting thongs for the devices.

The next morning Reginald showed Tim the steps needed to make the lucky charm. He did it an assembly-line fashion, making about a dozen at once. Tim added each part, stirring so many times in this direction, or hopping on one foot as he heated something up, all according to Reginald's instruction. Then the time came to add the final ingredient, the ground-up chicken eggshells. Tom spooned the proper amount on each of the nearly finished talismans and stood back.

Suddenly a high-pitched keening filled the air. The just-made talismans began twitching and rocking back and forth, then jumping up and down on the workbench! Reginald called for Tim to take cover and they flipped a table over and hid behind it. The room was rocked with a dozen loud explosions and bits of the magical constructs bounced off of the walls and ceiling.

When all calmed down and their ears stopped ringing, Reginald looked at Tim sternly. "You didn't get the egg shells I told you to, did you?" he asked bluntly.

"N-no, sir," Tim stammered. "The farmer...he said that there was no such thing! I thought you were playing a trick on me!"

Reginald sighed. "I tell you there is such a thing, and that it is a rare one. I should have suspected you took a shortcut and got regular-hatching shells instead of the proper ones when you brought so many. You cannot take shortcuts with magic. Listen to me and listen well, Tim. You can't make an amulet with out-breaking eggs."

What do you call a girl with a frog on her head?

Lilly.

What has four legs and an arm?

A happy pit bull.

El Presidente had had enough from the rabble rousers calling for reform. He was going to put a stop to it once and for all. He called in the head of his secret police to find out who the ringleader was and make an example of him.

"The head of the resistance is Juan Mendez, your excellency," the weaselly man hissed. "He is the horticulturalist who owns the chain of flower shops in all the major cities. He is wealthy and well-protected by guards at his home and when he travels. The only time he is ever alone is when he has to work at one of the flower shops when someone is sick or has an accident."

"Ah, yes. Javier, make sure that one of his workers has such an 'accident' tomorrow. Then send your best men to the shop to arrest him and bring him to my jail. He will learn to keep his big mouth shut!"

The next evening El Presidente called Javier back to his study. "Well, is that infernal troublemaker in irons yet?"

"No, El Presidente, he is not," Javier said nervously. "He escaped before we could arrest him."

"Escaped!" El Presidente bellowed. "I said to send your best men!"

Javier trembled as he said, "But, sir, they are the best. They have never failed me before! The man, he was ready for them. When they entered his shop he grabbed a large glass jar from behind the counter and threw it on the ground. It shattered and thousands of stinging insects flew out and the men, they were blinded and stung and....and in the confusion Mendez escaped!"

"Take those men and have them shot! I will not have incompetents working for me. And you are next if you do not succeed and bring him to me!"

"No, El Presidente! Give them another chance! They will succeed!" Javier begged. "It isn't their fault they could not seize the florist for the bees!"

Where did the sheep go on vacation?

The Baaaahamas.

David the Tortoise was a huge fan of stories. After all, when you moved as slowly as he did he had plenty of time to hear them. Unsurprisingly his favorite story was Aesop's fable about the Tortoise and the Hare. 

One day as he was plodding along a path he came across Larry the Hare. They exchanged pleasantries and David asked Larry if he had ever heard the tale. Larry had not and David related it to him as Larry munched on some green leaves.

When it was done, Larry burst out laughing. "That's the funniest joke I've ever heard!" he guffawed.

"It's not a joke, it's a true story!" David retorted.

"Oh, come on, Dave my friend. Nobody would believe a tortoise could best a hare. Look at us! You are the slowest animal in the forest and I'm the quickest, and if we raced you wouldn't stand a chance!" Larry patted David on the shell condescendingly.

Well that was it, as far as David was concerned. He would show this smart aleck what was what. So he challenged Larry to a race, just between the pair of them, from the edge of the forest and across Farmer Muldoon's wheat field to the fence by the road. Whoever got there first would be the winner and prove or put to lie the age-old story.

The next morning they met up at the old stump which was the starting line. A number of other animals had gathered to watch the event begin, expecting to see a victorious Larry return in a short while. The two shook paws and Larry bounded off. David started plodding in the same direction, determined to show the rabbit his method was the best.

Several hours later, David came across Larry sitting in the field, lazily watching the clouds. They were about twenty yards from the fence. "I thought I'd make it sporting," Larry said casually. 

This infuriated David. He began cursing and calling Larry all sorts of names for not taking the race seriously. This got Larry's dander up and he began responding in kind. They went on for some time, oblivious to Farmer Muldoon who was driving his thresher across the field, harvesting the wheat crop. The two contestants were caught up in the machine and neither one survived.

When neither of the contestants returned, the animals back at the stump asked Jerry the Crow to fly out and see how the race was progressing. Jerry spotted their remains and called the rest of the animals over to see what had become of their friends. Frank the Raccoon shook his head at the carnage. "Such a shame," he said. "Dave and a hare cut to bits."

What did the dog say to the hot dog bun? 

 "Are you pure bred?"

Throughout the spring, summer and fall the circus travels around the country putting up their enormous tent and providing entertainment for women, men and children of all ages. But when the snowy weather comes up north it's just too cold and treacherous to travel, and many of the animals simply can't take the chilling temperatures. That's when they travel to Florida for a well-deserved rest.

The problem is finding housing for all of the workers and their families which would be otherwise vacant three quarters of the year. P.T. Barnum had a great idea. He built a tall building of apartments which he rented out during the summer months to vacationers coming down for a little sun and fun, then in the winter months his performers and workers would have a place to stay. He fully furnished each room as well since the circus workers couldn't take all that with them on the road.

It worked out great for everyone, or almost everyone. The apartments were custom-made for the type of act it was. The fat lady had an extra-wide doorway, for instance, and the strong man's bureau drawers had springs on the back to make him work out when he was getting his socks in the morning. The trapeze artists and tumblers all had extra high ceilings, and so on. But when the clowns were shown their rooms they too noticed the fridge and the radio, along with the comfortable bed and matching side table. They were quite happy until they found that their rooms were missing the fold-down ironing boards the other rooms had.

As a group they confronted Mr. Barnum asking how they were going to press their clothes. Just because they were clowns didn't mean they didn't want to look nice. But Mr. Barnum had already planned for this. "Look, fellas," he said, going into one of their rooms, "there just wasn't space to to put the folding board in since your closets had to be deeper than everyone else's so your shoes would fit. But I had the builder make something special for you."

He led them into one of the clown's rooms and from beside the fridge he pulled a tapered board with some sort of metal attachment on one end. He went to the window and opened it, and using the attachments he clamped the board to the ledge of the window so it rested horizontally. He had one of the troop bring a shirt from the closet along with the iron and proceeded to show them how they could press anything. The board hardly moved, and when he was done he unclamped it and put it back in its storage location. The clowns were satisfied that they hadn't been overlooked, and when they went back to their rooms it turned out that every clown had a sill for ironing.

Why did the pig stop sunbathing? 

He was bacon in the heat.

A little over 2000 years ago, nestled in a mountain valley, was the small Chinese village of Lum Chi. The people there were happy for the most part except for one horrible recurring problem. Every seven years on midsummer's eve a giant bird would attack the town, destroying buildings and crops in the field. The bird was beautiful, with chromatic plumage that shimmered in the sun, but trying to fight off the creature was impossible. Those feathers were hard as bronze and deflected spear heads and arrows as well as the simple farm implements the peasants had at hand.

One day soon after the attack two friends, Hing and Ming, decided that something had to be done to stop the rampages. They decided to visit the Old Man of the Mountain, who was fabled to be the wisest in all the land, to seek a remedy to their problem. They made up their packs and bedrolls and set off on the arduous trek. For two days they climbed the mountain until they came to a small but tidy hut at the top. The holy hermit came out and welcomed them and offered them tea as they explained their sorrows.

"Ah, you have run afoul of the Huang bird. She is a mystical creature, usually very kindly disposed towards men, but when she is in her mating cycle she builds a nest and attacks anyone or anything that might pose a threat to her eggs. Your village is too close to her home. The answer is simple: you must move your village."

"But we can't do that," Ming protested. "We are where the river branches and the land is most fertile. Is there nothing we can do to appease the Huang?"

"No, the only relief for her is when the male Feng bird arrives to mate. But there is one other possibility. Perhaps you can restrain her when she comes to the village until her mate arrives. Then she would be unable to attack, and once she has mated she will return to her nest calmly."

"But she is so strong! How can we restrain her?" asked Hing.

"You will need a net, made of the strongest ropes, and tied by a master knot expert. The whole village will be needed to overcome her mystical strength and subdue her."

The two friends thanked him for his advice and hospitality and set off back down the mountain, dejected. They didn't have any strong ropes and did not know a master of the knots. But as they walked they talked and thought. Then they remembered a traveling merchant who had told stories about the Emperor's shipyards and the massive ropes that were used on his sailing fleet. They decided that one of them would go to he capitol and learn all there was to know about ropes and knots and return before the Huang came again. But who would go?

"I shall go," Hing announced. "I am an orphan and the village raised me, fed me, gave me clothing and shelter and education. I will go and learn what must be learned."

"And I shall stay and work my family's farm until you return. And together we will save our village from this curse!" And so that is what happened. Hing set off to the capitol to apprentice himself to the master ropemakers. They welcomed such an eager student and taught him well. Each ropemaker was amazed at how quickly and well Hing learned their craft. The head shipbuilder took notice and had special classes set up for Hing with all of the ropemakers until he had mastered every technique and knot that there was. Hing invented a new kind of rope, stronger and lighter than any other, though his goal was not to please the emperor but to save his people. He was made master ropemaker to the Emperor for his innovations.

Ming worked on his farm just outside of Lum Chi, reminding everyone that Hing would return to save them from the ravages of the bird. But the villagers did not believe him, thinking it all the wild tale of a young man. And as the fateful midsummer day approached they packed up and headed to the hills to try and hide from the coming attack. Only Ming's family stayed behind. Then on the morning of midsummer's day a horse-drawn wagon came into the square of Lum Chi. It was Hing, and he had brought a net made from his miraculous rope! Ming told his family to run to the hills and gather the village so they could capture the Huang bird. But none of the villagers believed them and all refused to come help. Hing and Ming, with his family, managed to get the net over the bird when she came tearing through the village but they were no match for her strength. She destroyed Lum Chi once again. Afterward, Hing left the village in disgust to return to the capital and never returned. Ming was badly injured and lived the rest of his days tending his farm. It is a sad ending to such a story, since all of Hing's courses and all of Ming's kin couldn't get Lum Chi to tether a hen.

What do claustrophobic lice say?

"Let me out of hair!"

Tonight on Celebrity Iron Chef we pit star of radio and screen Tonto against literary and film giant Tarzan! This should be an exciting match.

The Chairman greets the two contestants and reveals tonight's secret ingredient - cow's stomach! Ooh, this is a difficult meat to prepare, and not just because of how thoroughly nauseating the prospect of eating it is!

The challengers have grabbed their stomachs, or rather those of the cows, and are starting to cook. Though our judges may be grabbing their stomachs before all is done!

Poor Tonto. His years of campfire cooking seem to have him at a loss. He is looking around trying to decide what he should do with this unfamiliar ingredient: fry it, bake it, eat it raw? But look at Tarzan go! He has already got four pans going and is heading to the ice cream maker! Wow! Who would have thought the Lord of the Jungle would also be King of the Kitchen!

....

The time has just about elapsed in our match. Tonto has just one dish, a sad mess that I can't imagine anyone would want to eat. But Tarzan has truly outdone himself. He's prepared six dishes, all looking succulent and inviting. The judges are tasting Tonto's dish now. I've never seen the judges turn green before! Most of them are spitting it out. It doesn't look good for the faithul Indian companion. And now it's time for Tarzan's dishes to be tasted. Has he made the cow's stomach palatable?

Look at the expression on the judges' faces! They are all ecstatic, and some are asking for second helpings! The Chairman has declared Tarzan the winner! Let's have a quick interview with the new champion.

"Tarzan! Tarzan! It's amazing what you were able to do with such a nasty, foul theme ingredient. To what do you owe your amazing culinary finesse?"

"Tarzan raised in jungle. Many animal stomachs eaten. Also many herbs and spices. Tarzan learn, more use of spices make terrible meat good. Tarzan know thousand ways to make meat like this."

"Well, I couldn't have said it better myself! Thank you, Tarzan. And now, let's ask one of our judges his opinion of the truly African cuisine he had today."

"I can say without reservation this was one of the finest meals I've ever eaten. I would love to have Tarzan cook like this for me every day. In fact, if he knows a thousand ways to prepare it I think I could eat Tarzan's tripes forever!"

Why was the little inkblot unhappy?

Because his mother was in the pen and they didn't know how long the sentence would be.

Why did the bird go to the restaurant?

T'weet.

One day, three children on a play date were arguing about who had the best toys, particularly the animatronic ones. Melissa said her new Baby Minnie Mouse Touch N Crawl was the best because it was the cutest. Blake said he had gotten a Tickle Me Elmo for Christmas a couple of years ago and it was the best because it always made everyone laugh. Sloane had his dad's old Teddy Ruxpin and said it was the best because it could tell such great stories. 

They couldn't decide how to tell which was the best, so they decided to have a contest. They talked about different things, but eventually Blake and Melissa ganged up on Sloane and voted that the best would be the one that could win a race from one side of a table to the other. Blake had seen his Elmo fall over on the floor and vibrate all over the place so he knew he could win. Melissa's toy was designed to crawl across the floor and could easily beat the other two. Sloane was strangely quiet about it and acquiesced to the contest, looking dejected. They agreed the next time they got together they would let the race decide who had the best toys.

The following week they got together at Melissa's house in her playroom. They cleared the table of her tea set and got their toys ready. Blake said, "On your mark, get set, GO!" and immediately began tickling his Elmo. Elmo began talking and laughing, bending forward and falling backwards, jerking and twitching across the table. 

Melissa touched Minnie on the back and she began crawling across the table, paused, crawled some more, paused and then repeated the action. It looked like Minnie was gaining rapidly on Elmo.

Sloane put Teddy Ruxpin on the table and laid him flat on his stomach. He unzipped two zippers running down each side of the bear's back and out popped two small jet engines. He flipped Teddy's tail up and both roared to life. In a matter of seconds the bear shot across the table, continuing his flight until he crashed into the wall across the room! Sloane ran over and flipped the tail back down again to kill the engines.

Melissa and Blake were dumbfounded. "How did he do that?" Blake demanded.

Sloane just smiled and said, "You know my dad builds rockets for NASA. When he was a teenager he modified all of his old toys and I got most of them from him. I told you my Teddy Ruxpin was the best toy!"

Melissa nodded her head. "Okay, we all know who has the best toy because Sloane's Teddy wins the race."

What should you do if your child swallows a pen?

Use a pencil.