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Three wives were bemoaning their husbands’ attitudes towards leftovers:
“It gets rough,” one said. “My husband is a TV producer, and he calls them reruns.” “You think you have it bad,” was the reply. “Mine is a quality control engineer, and he calls them rejects!” “That’s nothing compared to me,” said the third lady. “My husband is a mortician. He calls them remains!”
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An art restorer was at work in the Louvre, and realized that some Caravaggio’s and Rembrandt’s needed to be re-framed, but the works by Raphael, Michelangelo, and Leyster were just fine.
They told their manager to contact the framing department. “Which pieces?” Asked the manager. “Just tell ’em, if it ain’t Baroque…”
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Fred and Klaus met, as usual, on Tuesday evening to talk about their misdeeds from the past weekend. Fred boasted, “I was at a party over the weekend, and it was insane, the hosts even had a golden toilet!” Klaus replied, “You must be crazy; a golden toilet?!”
After some back and forth, they decided to pay a visit to the people who threw the party to see if the golden toilet was real. Sure enough, they arrived at the house later on, where an older woman answered the door and asked, “Can I help you?” Fred explained, “Yes, ma’am, I was here at your party over the weekend, and my friend Klaus here doesn’t believe me that you have a golden toilet in this house!” The woman then looked at them, turned to her hallway, and called out to her husband, “Hey Hermann, here’s the pig that crapped in your trumpet!”
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