Moshe wakes up in the hospital bandaged from head to foot.
The doctor comes in and says, “Ah, I see you’ve regained consciousness. Now, you probably won’t remember, but you were in a huge pile-up on the freeway. You’re going to be okay. You’ll walk again and everything; however, your p*nis was s*v*red in the accident and we couldn’t find it.”
Moshe groans, but the doctor goes on, “You have $9000 in insurance compensation coming and we now have the technology to build a new p*nis. They work great but they don’t come cheap. It’s roughly $1000 an inch.”
Moshe perks up. So, the doctor says, “You and your wife must decide how many inches you want. But understand that you have been married for over thirty years and this is something you should discuss with your wife. If you had a five incher before and get a nine incher now she might be a bit put out. If you had a nine incher before and you decide to only invest in a five incher now, she might be disappointed. It’s important that she plays a role in helping you make a decision.”
Moshe agrees to talk it over with his wife Zelda. The doctor comes back the next day, “So, have you spoken with your wife?”
“Yes, I have,” says the man.
“And has she helped you make a decision?”
“Yes,” says the man.
“What is your decision?” asks the doctor.
“We’re getting granite countertops.”
The Nun Suddenly Regretted Asking One More Question…
A farmer was out checking his fields one afternoon when he spotted a nun walking slowly along the dusty road toward town.
“Afternoon, Sister,” he called. “Where are you headed in this heat?”
The nun smiled politely.
“Our convent pantry is nearly empty. I’m going into town to see whether anyone might donate some food.”
“Well now,” said the farmer, tipping his hat, “there’s no need for that long walk. I’d be happy to help.”
The nun thanked him warmly.
“Only problem is,” the farmer continued, “the only thing ready to harvest right now is cucumbers.”
“Oh, that would still be wonderful,” the nun replied gratefully. “The sisters will appreciate anything.”
The farmer nodded.
“Tell you what — come by every Monday and I’ll give you enough cucumbers so every sister can have two on the first day… and one a day for the rest of the week.”
The nun paused for a moment, slightly puzzled.
“Why two on the first day?”
The farmer blinked at her innocently.
“Well…” he said,
“one’s for eating, of course.”
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