eyesight

An optometrist operates on a hippie painter’s girlfriend and saves her eyesight. The hippie painter is so grateful that he goes to the doctor’s house one day, while the doctor has office hours, goes inside and paints a huge eye on an entire wall of the living room, leaving the fireplace as the pupil of the eye. He’s just finishing up when the doctor walks in.

He says to the doctor, “Well, do you like it man?”

The doctor says, “Yeah, but I’m certainly glad I’m not a gynecologist!”

Two guys and a union worker were fishing on a lake one day, when Jesus walked across the water and joined them in the boat. When the three astonished men had settled down enough to speak, the first guy asked, humbly, “Jesus, I’ve suffered from back pain ever since I took shrapnel in the Vietnam War…could you help me?”

“Of course, my son,” Jesus said, and when he touched the man’s back, he felt relief for the first time in years.

The second man, who wore very thick glasses and had a hard time reading and driving, asked if Jesus could do anything about his eyesight.

Jesus smiled, removed the man’s glasses and tossed them in the lake. When they hit the water, the man’s eyes cleared, and he could see everything distinctly.

When Jesus turned to heal the union worker, the guy put his hands up and cried, defensively, “DON’T TOUCH ME! I’m on long-term disability!”

Ten Simple Rules for Dating My Daughter

Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them.

Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear earrings and their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four: I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without utilizing a “barrier method” of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I WILL kill you.

Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, you think we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is “early.”

Rule Six: I have no doubt you are popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating my daughter. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a pot-bellied, balding, middle-aged, dim-witted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very, very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy outside of Saigon. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car. There is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

An old man was a witness in a burglary case.

The defense lawyer asked Sam, “Did you see my client commit this burglary?”

“Yes,” said Sam, “I saw him plainly take the goods.”

The lawyer asks Sam again, “Sam, this happened at night. Are you sure you saw my client commit this crime?”

“Yes, says Sam. “I saw him do it.”

Then the lawyer asks Sam, “Sam, listen, you are an 80-year-old, and your eyesight is probably bad. Just how far can you see at night?”

Sam says, “I can see the moon. How far is that?”

An old golfer was starting to have a very hard time during his game. Since he was 85, it was not unusual that his eyesight was not what it used to be. He would drive the ball quite well, but even though he wore eyeglasses he could not see where the ball would go. Hoping to solve the problem, he asked his older brother, who still had excellent eyesight, for some help.

So they both went out on the course together. He drove the ball off the tee as usual. He asked his brother, “Did you see that?” His brother said, “Yeah, that was a great drive!”

He asked his brother again, “Well, did you see where the ball went?” His brother said with excitement, “Yeah, I saw where the ball went!” With no immediate further response from his brother, he impatiently asked, “Well, where did the ball end up?” To this his brother sadly had to say, “I can’t remember!”