THE DAILY GROANER - Wednesday, Feb. 22nd 2012

Good Morning Groanies,

It's my dad's forty-fifty-seven-thirteenth birthday today. Alright, I don't know how old my dad is, but that's because he doesn't know either. I've asked him all my life and he has always said that he doesn't know. My dad has never concerned himself with age. Age is just a number to him and that's fine by me, but I just had to ask.

I asked, "Dad, how old are you?"

He replied, "I dunno."

I thought about it for a long time and said, "If I had to guess, I'd say you were about... fifty something."

"Come on," he said, "I got on underwear older than that."

If you knew my dad then you would understand that he wasn't kidding.

Happy Birthday, Dad! Actually, Happy 60th Birthday! (It's accurate. I did the math. I took my socks and shoes off.)

Groaningly yours,
Steve

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*-- What Seems to be the Trouble? --*
Doctor: What seems to be the trouble?

Patient: Doctor, I keep getting the feeling that nobody can hear what I say.

Doctor: What seems to be the trouble?


*-- Check Room 27 --*
A man phones a mental hospital and asks the receptionist if there is anybody in Room 27. She goes and checks, and comes back to the phone, telling him, "No, the room is empty."

"Good," says the man, "That means I must have really escaped."


*-- Q and A Quickies --*
Q: What do 90 year old people smell like?

A: Depends!


Q: Why did the cowboy die with his boots on?

A: Because he didn't want to stub his toe when he kicked the bucket!

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