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An elderly golfer comes in after a good round of golf at the new course and heads straight to the bar/restaurant area of the club house. As he passes through the swinging doors, he spots a sign hanging over the bar that reads: COLD BEER: $5.00 HAMBURGER: $10.00 CHEESEBURGER: $15.50 CHICKEN SANDWICH : $18.50 HAND JOB: $250.00 Checking his wallet to be sure he has the necessary money, the old golfer walks up to the bar and beckons to the exceptionally attractive female bartender who is serving drinks to a couple of sun-wrinkled golfers. She glides down behind the bar to the old golfer. “Yes?” she inquires with a wide, knowing smile. “May I help you Sir?” The old golfer leans over the bar and whispers, “I was wondering young lady, are you the one who gives the hand-jobs around here?” She looks into his wrinkled eyes and with a wide smile purrs, “Yes Sir, I sure am.” The old golfer leans in even closer and into her left ear says softly, “Well then, be sure to wash your hands real good, because I want a cheeseburger.”

Frank Carson dies after choking on unspecified food. Hospital reports suggest it's a cracker.

It was the way he told 'em That's a croaker.

An American tourist in London decides to skip his tour group and explore the city on his own. He wanders around seeing the sights and occasionally stopping at a quaint pub to soak up the local culture, chat with the lads, and have a pint of Guinness. After a while, he finds himself in a very high class neighbourhood.....big, stately residences... no pubs, no stores, no restaurants, and worst of all... NO PUBLIC RESTROOMS. He really, really has to go, after all those Guinnesses. He finds a narrow side street, with high walls surrounding the adjacent buildings and decides to use the wall to solve his problem. As he is unzipping, he is tapped on the shoulder by a London bobby, who says, "I say, sir, you simply cannot do that here, you know." "I'm very sorry, officer," replies the American, "but I really, really HAVE TO GO, and I just can't find a public restroom." "Ah, yes," said the bobby..."Just follow me". He leads him to a back "delivery alley", then along a wall to a gate, which he opens. "In there," points the bobby. "Whiz away sir, anywhere you want." The fellow enters and finds himself in the most beautiful garden he has ever seen. Manicured grass lawns, statuary, fountains, sculpted hedges, and huge beds of gorgeous flowers, all in perfect bloom. Since he has the cop's blessing, he unburdens himself and is greatly relieved. As he goes back through the gate, he says to the bobby,"That was really decent of you... is that what you call 'English Hospitality'?" "No, sir" replies the bobby, "that is what we call the French Embassy."

What's six inches long and won't get sucked on St. Valentines day? Whitney Houston's crack pipe...

I bought a ticket in a lottery to win a Mediterranean cruise. Last week was a rollover...