A lawyer dies and goes to Heaven. "There must be some mistake," the lawyer argues. "I’m too young to die. I’m only fifty five." "Fifty five?" says Saint Peter. "No, according to out calculations, you’re eighty two." "How’s you get that?" the lawyer asks. Answers St. Peter: "We added up your time sheets."
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Three comedians are shooting the breeze at the back of a nightclub after a late gig. They’ve heard one another’s material so much, they’ve reached the point where they don’t need to say the jokes anymore to amuse each other – they just need to refer to each joke by a number. "Number 37!" cracks the first comic, and the others break up. ""Number 53!" says the second guy, and they howl. Finally, it’s the third comic’s turn. "44!" he quips. He gets nothing. Crickets. "What?" he asks, "Isn’t 44 funny?" "Sure, it’s usually hilarious," they answer. "But the way you tell it…
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If I ever have twins, I'd use one for parts. (Steven Wright)
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