A blond City girl named Amy marries a N. Dakota rancher.
One morning, on his way out to check on the cows, the rancher says to Amy, 'The insemination man is coming over to impregnate one of our cows today, so I drove a nail into the 2 by 4 just above where the cow's stall is in the barn. Please show him where the cow is when he gets here, OK?'
The rancher leaves for the fields. After awhile, the artificial insemination man arrives and knocks on the front door.
Amy takes him down to the barn. They walk along the row of cows and when Amy sees the nail, she tells him, 'This is the one right here.'
The man, assuming he is dealing with an air head blond, asks, 'Tell me lady, 'cause I'm dying to know; how would YOU know that this is the right cow to be bred?'
'That's simple," she said. "By the nail that's over its stall,' she explains very confidently.
Laughing rudely at her, the man says, 'And what, pray tell, is the nail for?'
The blond turns to walk away and says sweetly over her shoulder, 'I guess it's to hang your pants on.'
"Miss Jones, we can't employ you as a model," the editor from the men's magazine explained. "It's too obvious that your blonde hair isn't natural, since the hair between your legs is black." The model picked up a paperweight and slammed it down on the editor's fingers. "What the hell did you do that for!" he exploded. She smiled sweetly and said, "Look at your fingers. They're turning black, right? And they've only been banged once."
A Letter From Barbie
Chief Executive Officer Mattel, Inc. El Segundo, CA
Listen you little troll, I've been helping you out every year, playing at being the perfect Christmas present, wearing skimpy bathing suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many tea parties, and I hate to break it to ya, but IT'S DEFINITELY PAYBACK TIME! There had better be some changes around here this year, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me, you won't wanna be around to smell it).
So, here's my New Year's resolution/wish list:
- A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a hooker. How much smaller are these bathing suits gonna get? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and velcro crawling up your butt?
- Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. Preferably white. What bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to my skin?!? It looks like cellulite!
- A REAL man... maybe GI Joe. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me Elmo over that wimped-out excuse for a boyfriend, Ken. And what's with that earring anyway? If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me) anatomically correct.
- Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct.
- Breast reduction surgery. I don't care whose arm you have to twist, just get it done.
- A sports bra. To wear until I get the surgery.
- A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How about a systems analyst? Or better yet, an advertising account exec!
- A new, more hip persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with a miniature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun, outfitted with a fake fur coat and handcuffs; or "Stop Smoking Barbie", sporting a removable Nicotrol patch and equipped with several packs of gum.
- No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl.
- Mattel stock options. It's been decades -- I think I deserve it.
Ok, Mr CEO, that's it. Considering my valuable contribution to society, I don't think these requests are out of line. If you disagree, then you can find yourself a new bimbo doll for next Christmas. It's that simple.
Dreamhouse Malibu, CA
Man and Blonde Plane Game
One day a blonde is sitting on a plane next to one of those annoying, pushy businessmen. He asks her if she would like to play a game. She politely declines, but the man explains the game to her anyway. He says, "It goes like this: I will ask you a question and if you get it wrong you will give me $5, and vice-versa." She says no again, and tries to fall asleep. The man tries harder, saying, "Aw, come on. I'll give you $50 for each question. Or how about $500?" At that number, the blonde agrees. The businessman explains again, "If you get my question wrong you give me $5. And when you ask the question, and I get it wrong, I will pay you $500." "Got it," she replies. He asks, "Who was the sixth president?" She admits she doesn't know and gives him $5. Now it's her turn, and she says, "What has purple legs, five arms and only two yellow teeth?" The businessman doesn't know - he uses his laptop, checks the Internet, e-mails his friends. No one knows the answer. So he gives her $500.00. Then, as they're landing he asks her, "What was that thing anyway?" She thinks a few minutes, hands him $5 and walks off the plane.
A Blonde with Brains
Q: What do you call a blonde with a brain?
A: A golden retriever.