I've ended up with all of these magazine holders around here that I'm going to have to find a use for. Yes, I could put magazines in them, I suppose, but then I have to find a place to put the damn holders.
Oh well...break's over...
This man dies and goes to hell. Satan greets him and informs him that he has three choices for his eternal damnation and leads him to three doors, each with a window so that he can see inside. He looks into the first room, and of course there's fire and people burning in the unquenchable flames and all that. He looks into the second room and sees people being stretched on racks, having their eyeballs gouged out, having their genitals burned, you know, torture. (Yes, I would tame the joke down for class.) He looks into the third room and sees people standing around, waist deep in sewage and crap, drinking coffee and eating Krispy Kreme Donuts. Naturally, he chooses room number three, wades in, gets a donut and a cup of coffee and finds a group of people with whom to chat. Five minutes later, Satan comes in and says, "All right, everyone, break's over. Back on your heads."
Guess the cut tag did funny things. I used to tell that one to my classes, and of course, when they'd return from break, I'd start off by saying, "All right, everyone, back on your heads." Most people thought it was funny.
Hey, while I'm on the subject, I told this joke one time, and I swear, everyone laughed except for one guy, who absolutely did not get it:
A woman goes to a psychiatrist and informs him that her husband believes that he's the Lone Ranger. When asked how long he's believed this, she tells the doctor that he's thought so for 25 years.
"Twenty five years?" the psychiatrist exclaims. "Why didn't you come to me sooner?"
And she says, "Well, Tonto was so good with the kids."