There was this haunted house on the outskirts of the town which was avoided by all the townfolk - the ghost which `lived' there was feared by all.
However, an enterprising journalist decided to get the scoop of the day by photographing the fearsome phantom. When he entered the house, armed with only his camera, the ghost descended upon him, clanking chains et al. He told the ghost, "I mean no harm - I just want your photograph". The ghost was quite happy at this chance to make the headlines - he posed for a number of ghostly shots.
The happy journalist rushed back to his dark room, and began developing the photos. Unfortunately, they turned out to be black and underexposed.
So what's the moral of the story?
The spirit was willing but the flash was weak.
Saved By The Ship
Q: Limp Bizkit and Dennis Rodman are on a sinking ship. Who gets saved?
A: The music world and the NBA...
Q: How do you make a bandstand?
A: Take away their chairs!
A woman walks into a tattoo parlour and asks, "Do you do custom work?"
"Why of course!"
"Good. I'd like a portrait of Robert Redford on the inside of my right thigh, and a portrait of Paul Newman on the inside of my left thigh."
"No problem," says the artist. "Strip from the waist down and get up on the table." After two hours of hard work, the artist finishes.
The woman sits up and examines the tattoos. "That doesn't look like them!" she complains loudly.
"Oh yes it does," the artist says indignantly, "and I can prove it." With that, he runs out of the shop and grabs the first man off the street he can find; it happens to be the town drunk.
"Well, what do you think?" the woman asks, spreading her legs. "Do you know who these men are?"
The drunk studies the tattoos for a couple of minutes and says. "I'm not sure who the guys on either side are, but the fellow in the middle is definately Willie Nelson!"
Two men, sentenced to die in the electric chair on the same day were led down to the room in which they would meet their maker. The priest had given the last rites, the formal speech had been given by the warden, and a final prayer had been said among the participants. The Warden, turning to the first man, solemnly asked, "Son, do you have a last request?" To which the man replied, "Yes sir, I do. I love dance music. Could you please play something by Justin Bieber for me one last time?" "Certainly," replied the warden. He turned to the other man and asked, "Well, what about you, son? What is your final request?" "Please," said the condemned man, "kill me first."