Slay.me

Tony and Yvonne were 85 years old and had been married for sixty years.  Though they were far from rich, they managed to get by because Tony watched  their pennies.

Though not young, they were both in very good health, largely due to  Yvonne’s insistence on healthy foods and exercise for  the last decade.

One day, their good health didn’t help when they went on yet another  holiday and their plane crashed, sending them off to Heaven.

They reached the pearly gates, and St. Peter  escorted them inside.  He took them to a beautiful mansion,  furnished in gold and fine silks, with a fully stocked kitchen and a  waterfall in the master bath.  A maid could be seen hanging  their favorite clothes in the closet. They gasped in astonishment  when he said, ‘Welcome to Heaven.  This will be your home now.’

Tony asked Peter how much all this was going to cost.  ‘Why,  nothing,’ Peter replied, ‘remember, this is your reward in Heaven.’

Tony looked out the window and right there he saw a championship golf  course, finer and more beautiful than any ever built on Earth..

‘What are the greens fees?,’ grumbled Tony..

‘This is heaven,’ St. Peter replied.  ‘You can play for free,  every day.’

Next they went to the clubhouse and saw the lavish buffet lunch, with  every imaginable cuisine laid out before them, from seafood to steaks  to exotic deserts, free flowing beverages.

‘Don’t even ask,’ said St. Peter to Tony.  This is Heaven, it is  all free for you to enjoy.’

Tony looked around and glanced nervously at Yvonne.

‘Well, where are the low fat and low cholesterol foods and the  decaffeinated tea?,’ he asked.

That’s the best part,’ St. Peter replied.  ‘You can eat and  drink as much as you like of whatever you like and you will never get  fat or sick.   This is Heaven!’

‘No gym to work out at?’ said Tony

‘Not unless you want to,’ was the answer.

‘No testing my sugar or blood pressure or…’

‘Never again.  All you do here is enjoy yourself.’

Tony glared at Yvonne and said, ‘You and your fucking Bran Flakes.   We could have been here ten years ago !!!!

Meyer, a lonely widower, was walking home one day. He was wishing something wonderful would happen to his life when he passed a pet store and heard a squawking voice shouting out in Yiddish: “Quawwwwk…vus macht du…!”

Meyer rubbed his eyes and ears. He couldn’t believe it! Meyer stood in front of an African Grey that cocked his little head and said: “Vus? Kenst reddin Yiddish?”

In a matter of moments, Meyer purchased the bird and carried the parrot home. All night long he talked with the parrot…in Yiddish. The parrot listened while sharing some walnuts.
The next morning, Meyer began saying his prayers. The parrot wanted to pray, too. Meyer hand made a miniature yamulke for the parrot. The parrot also wanted to read Hebrew, so Meyer spent months teaching him the Torah.

On Rosh Hashanah, Meyer rose, got dressed, and was about to leave when the parrot demanded to go with him. Meyer explained that a synagogue was not a place for a bird, but the parrot pleaded and was carried to the synagogue on Meyer’s shoulder.
Meyer was questioned by everyone, including the rabbi. At first, the rabbi refused to allow a bird into the building on the High Holy Days, but Meyer convinced him that the parrot could pray. Wagers were made on whether the parrot could speak Yiddish or not.

All eyes were on the two of them during services. The parrot was still perched on Meyer’s shoulder as one prayer and song passed…but the parrot didn’t say a word. Annoyed, Meyer said “Pray, parrot! You can pray…do it now while everybody’s looking at you!” The parrot said nothing.

After services were over, Meyer realized he owed the synagogue over four thousand dollars. He marched home, saying nothing. Finally, several blocks from the temple, the bird began to sing an old Yiddish song.

Meyer stopped and looked at him. “You miserable bird…you cost me over four thousand dollars today. Why? After I taught you the morning prayers, taught you to read Hebrew and the Torah. And, after you begged me to bring you to a synagogue on Rosh Hashanah…Why did you do this to me?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” the parrot replied. “Think of the odds we’ll get on Yom Kippur!”

A Spanish teacher was explaining to her class that in Spanish, unlike English, nouns are designated as either masculine or feminine.

‘House’ for instance, is feminine: ‘la casa.’
‘Pencil,’ however, is masculine:
‘el lapiz.’

A student asked, ‘What gender is ‘computer’?’

Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two groups, male and female, and asked them to decide for themselves whether ‘computer’ should be a masculine or a feminine noun. Each group was asked to give four reasons for its recommendation.

The men’s group decided that ‘computer’ should definitely be of the feminine gender (‘la computadora’), because:

1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic;

2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is incomprehensible to everyone else;

3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible later retrieval; and

4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourselfspending half your paycheck on accessories for it.

The women’s group, however, concluded that computers should be masculine (‘el computador’), because:

1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on;

2. They have a lot of data but still can’t think for themselves;

3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they ARE the problem; and

4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a little longer, you could have gotten a better model.

The women won.