A man with no arms walked up to a bar and asked for a beer. Santa, the bartender, shoved the foaming glass in front of him. "Look," said the customer, "I have no arms - would you please hold the glass up to my mouth?" "Sure", said Santa, and he did. "Now," said the customer, "I wonder if you'd be so kind as to get my handkerchief out of my pocket and wipe the foam off my mouth." "Certainly." And it was done. "If," said the armless man, "you'd reach in my right hand pants pocket, you'll find the money for the beer." Santa got it. "You've been very kind," said the customer. "Just one thing more. Where is the men's room?" "Out the door," said Santa, "turn left, walk two blocks, and there's one in a filling station on the corner."
George was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn't find a parking place.
Looking up toward heaven, he said, "Lord, take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of my life and give up tequila."
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
George looked up again and said, "Never mind. I found one."
Sergeant Frank was assigned to the induction center, where he advised new recruits about their government benefits, especially their GI insurance. It wasn't long before Captain Jack noticed that Frank had almost a hundred percent record for insurance sales, which had never happened before. Rather than ask about this, the Captain stood in the back of the room and listened to Frank's sales pitch. Frank explained the basics of the GI Insurance to the new recruits, and then said: "If you have GI Insurance and go into battle and are killed, the government has to pay $200,000 to your nominee. If you don't have GI insurance, and you go into battle and get killed, the government only has to pay a maximum of $6000." "Now," he concluded, "which group do YOU think they are going to send into battle first?"
"Would you mind telling me, Doctor," Santa asked, "how you detect a mental deficiency in somebody who appears completely normal?" "Nothing is easier," he replied. "You ask him a simple question which everyone should answer with no trouble. If he hesitates, that puts you on the track." "What sort of question?" "Well, you might ask him, "Captain Cook made three trips around the world and died during one of them. Which one?" Santa thought for a moment, and then said with a nervous laugh, "You wouldn't happen to have another example would you? I must confess I don't know much about history."
Alarmed by the prolonged discussions of his case by a group of doctors by his bedside, a patient said, "There must be something terribly wrong with me."
"Why do you say that?" asked the doctor.
"All the other doctors seem to disagree with your diagnosis."
"Don't you worry." consoled the doctor. "In a similar case sometime back I stood firm on my diagnosis and the postmortem proved me right!"
Two psychiatrists were at a convention. As they conversed over a drink, one asked, "What was your most difficult case?" The other replied, "I had a patient who lived in a pure fantasy world. He believed that an uncle in South America was going to die and leave him a fortune. All day long he waited for a letter to arrive from an attorney. He never went out, he never did anything, he merely sat around and waited for this fantasy letter from this fantasy uncle. I worked with this man eight years." "What was the result?" the first doctor asked. "It was an eight year struggle. Every day for eight years, but I finally cured him and then that stupid letter arrived!"