Entertainment

I was living in the mountains above Denver when my college buddy, Gary, arrived in his ancient Maserati sports car. He had just driven it from Ohio, and as he pulled into my driveway, the car broke down.

Calls to auto-supply houses and garages in search of replacement parts proved futile. The 1962 model was simply too rare. Responses ranged from "Mas-a-what?" to "You've got to be kidding."

One guy just laughed.

I was at the end of the listings in the Yellow Pages when I dialed Victor's Garage. "Vic," I said, "you're my last hope. Do you carry any parts for a 1962 Maserati?"

There was a long pause. Finally, Victor cleared his throat. "Yes," he replied. "Oil."

One lovely morning, Ben and Thomas were out golfing.

Ben sliced his ball deep into a wooded ravine.  He grabbed his 8-iron and proceeded down the embankment into the ravine in search of his ball.

Ben searched diligently through the thick underbrush and suddenly he spotted something shiny.  As he got closer, he realized that the shiny object was in fact an 8-iron in the hands of a skeleton lying near an old golf ball.

Ben screamed out to his golfing partner: "Hey Thomas, come here, I've got big trouble down here."

Thomas came running over to the edge of the ravine and called out, "What's the matter Ben?"

Ben shouted back in a nervous voice, "Throw me my 7-iron!  Looks like you can't get out of here with an 8-iron."

A man writing at the post office desk was approached by an older fellow with a post card in his hand. The old man said, "Sir, I'm sorry to bother you but could you address this post card for me? My arthritis is acting up today and I can't even hold a pen."

"Certainly sir," said the younger man, "I'd be glad to."

He wrote out the address and also agreed to write a short message and sign the card for the man. Finally, the younger man asked, "Now, is there anything else I can do for you?"

The old fellow thought about it for a moment and said, "Yes, at the end could you just add, 'PS: Please excuse the sloppy hand-writing.'?"

There was once a young man who, in his youth, professed his desire to become a great writer. 

When asked to define "great" he said, "I want to write stuff that the whole world will read, stuff that people will react to on a truly emotional level, stuff that will make them scream, cry, howl in pain and anger!"

He now works for Microsoft, writing error messages.