I hadn't put my own picture up on my dating profile, just a picture of my pickup

I hadn't put my own picture up on my dating profile, just a picture of my pickup. But that's okay, because she'd just put a picture of her dog. I sent her a message, something almost-clever like "your dog can ride in my pickup any time," and she responded.

We clicked pretty quickly, and started chatting regularly. Every day, sometimes throughout the day. Slowly we learned more about each other. Her dog's name was Daisy. My truck's name was Dodge Ram (I apologized for my lack of creativity). She was a CPA. I was a beekeeper.

And at this, she stumbled. "If we ever meet in real-life, I want you to know that I could never date a beekeeper." But we were still far away from that point, so it was moot.

But time went on, and we gradually became closer to that point. More personal information. What firm she worked for. Where my farm was. Names of relatives. Names of high schools. All the things that just come up in conversation eventually if you talk to someone long enough.

But, oddly, after all this time, neither of us had thought to send any pictures. Until one day I got a message from her: "I never thought I'd say this, but I really do want to meet you in person. I think we have a rare connection, and I don't want to squander it. I want to send you my picture, and I want you to send me yours, but I'm telling you, I can never date a beekeeper."

I couldn't imagine a life without my bees. But I also couldn't imagine a life without her. Tentatively, reluctantly, I clicked on the image attached to her message.

Then I saw her face. Now I'm a bee leaver.

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A blonde teenager, wanting to earn some extra money for the summer, decided to hire herself out as a "handy-woman"

She started canvassing a nearby well-to-do neighborhood. She went to the front door of the first house, and asked the owner if he had any odd jobs for her to do. "Well, I guess I could use somebody to paint my porch," he said, "How much will you charge me?" Delighted, the girl quickly responded, "How about $50?" The man agreed and told her that the paint brushes and everything she would need was in the garage. The man's wife, hearing the conversation said to her husband, "Does she realize that our porch goes ALL the way around the house?" He responded, "That's a bit cynical, isn't it?" The wife replied, "You're right. I guess I'm starting to believe all those dumb blonde jokes we've reading on Facebook lately." Later that day, the blonde teenager came to the door to collect her money. "You're finished already?" the startled husband asked. "Yes, she replied, and I even had paint left over, so I gave it two coats." Impressed, the man reached into his pocket for the $50.00 and handed it to her along with a $10.00 tip. “And, by the way," the teenager added, "it's not a Porch, it's a Lexus."

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How can you tell if being a suicide bomber really guarantees you blessings in the afterlife?

You have to C4 yourself

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I refused to believe my road worker father was stealing from his job,

but when I got home, all the signs were there.

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I picked up a hitchhiker yesterday

He said: "Thanks! How do you know I'm not a serial killer?"

I said: "The odds that there's another serial killer in the car are astronomically low"

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Magician: and now for my final trick! I will disappear!

Then he grabs a pear from under the table and says:

you're the worst fruit ever!

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A young Arab boy asks his dad....

A young Arab boy asks his dad "what are you wearing on your head?"

The father said: "Why, my son, it is a 'chechia.' In the desert it protects our heads from the intense heat of the sun.”

"And what is the long flowing robe you are wearing?” asked the boy.

“Oh, my son!” exclaimed the father “It is very simple. This is a 'djbellah.' As I have told you, in the desert it is not only very hot, but the sand is always blowing. My djbellah protects my entire body."

The son then asked: "But Father, what about those ugly shoes you have on your feet?”

"These are 'babouches' my son,” the father replied. You must understand that although the desert sands are very beautiful, they are also extremely hot. These babouches keep us from burning our feet."

Son asks "what is that black tent mom and sister are wearing ?"

Father :" It's called a burkha , it helps the hot desert sand from hitting the face and body during a sandstorm" .

"So tell me then," added the boy.

"Yes, my son…”

"Why are we living in Birmingham and still wearing all this shit?

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