Help to our readers
It's Thursday now, but we know some of you are planing a great weekend.
In the spirit of being prepared here is a list of excuses for not showing up at work on Monday
I can't come in to work today because I'll be stalking my previous boss, who fired me for not showing up for work. OK?
When I got up this morning, I took two Ex-lax in addition to my Prozac. I can't get off the john, but I feel good about it.
I can't come to work today because the EPA has determined that my house is completely surrounded by wetlands and I have to arrange for helicopter transportation.
If it is all the same to you I won't be coming in to work. The voices told me to clean all the guns today.
I have a rare case of 48-hour projectile leprosy, but I know we have that deadline to meet....
Constipation has made me a walking time bomb.
I just found out that I was switched at birth. Legally, I shouldn't come to work knowing my employee records may now contain false information.
The psychiatrist said it was an excellent session. He even gave me this jaw restraint so I won't bite things when I am startled.
The dog ate my car keys. We're going to hitchhike to the vet.
I prefer to remain an enigma.
I set half the clocks in my house ahead an hour and the other half back an hour Saturday and spent 18 hours in some kind of space-time continuum loop, reliving Sunday (right up until the explosion). I was able to exit the loop only by reversing the polarity of the power source exactly elog (pi) on all the clocks in the house while simultaneously rapping my dog on the snout with a rolled up Times. Accordingly, I will be in late, or early.
Just after this guy gets married, he was invited out for a night with "the boys."
He accepts and then tells his new bride not to worry, because that he'd "be home by midnight... promise!"
Well, the darts were landing just right and the grog was going down easy, and at around 3 a.m. drunk as can be the guy finally stumbles home Just as he gets in the door, the cuckoo clock started, and cuckooed three times. Quickly he realized she'd probably been woken up by the clock, so he cuckooed another nine times to make her think it was midnight. He was really proud of himself, having the quick wits even when smashed -- to escape a possible conflict.
Next morning the missus asked him what time he got in and he tells her, "12 o'clock, dear!" Whew! Got away with that one!
"Hmmm, I think we need a new cuckoo clock." she says over her morning coffee.
"Why is that?" the husband asks.
"Well, it cuckooed three times, said 'shit,' cuckooed another four times, farted, cuckooed another three times, cleared its throat; cuckooed two more times, and then giggled."
The patient's family gathered to hear what the specialists had to say.
"Things don't look good. The only chance is a brain transplant.
This is an experimental procedure.
It might work, but the bad news is that brains are very expensive, and you will have to pay the costs yourselves."
"Well, how much does a brain cost?" asked the relatives.
"For a male brain, $500,000. For a female brain, $200,000."
Some of the younger male relatives tried to look shocked, but all the men nodded because they thought they understood.
A few actually smirked.
But the patient's daughter was unsatisfied and asked, "Why the difference in price between male brains and female brains?"
"A standard pricing practice," said the head of the team.
"Women's brains have to be marked down because they have actually been used."
Check out Joe Cartoon for more laughs:
The funniest cartoons on the internet