A mechanic was removing a cylinder head from the engine of a Range Rover when he spotted a well-known heart surgeon in the shop. The surgeon was there waiting for the service manager to come take a look at his Mercedes when the mechanic shouted across the garage: "Hey doc, can I ask you a question?"
The surgeon, a bit surprised, walked over to where the mechanic was working on the Range Rover. The mechanic straightened up, wiped his hands on a rag and asked: "So Doc, look at this engine. I open its heart, take the valves out, repair any damage, and then put them back in, and when I finish, it works just like new. So how come I get such a small salary and you get the really big money, when you and I are doing basically the same work?"
The surgeon paused, smiled and leaned over and whispered to the mechanic: "Try doing it with the engine running."
Little Johnny goes to his dad and asks, "What is politics?"
Dad says, "Well son, let me try to explain it to you this way. I’m the breadwinner of the family, so let’s call me Capitalism. Mommy is the administrator of the money, so we’ll call her the Government. We’re here to take care of your needs, so we’ll call you The People. The nanny, well, let's consider her The Working Class. And your baby brother, we’ll call him The Future. Now go think about this and see if it all makes sense to you."
So Little Johnny goes off to bed thinking about what his Dad has told him. Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying and runs to his room to find his diapers are badly soiled. So Johnny goes to his parents’ room. Mom is sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny’s room. Finding the door locked, he looks through the peephole and sees his father in bed with the nanny. He finally gives up and goes back to bed.
The next morning, Johnny says to his father, "Dad, I think I understand exactly what politics is."
"Good son, tell me in your own words what you've learned."
Little Johnny replies, "Well, while Capitalism is screwing the Working Class, the Government is sound asleep, the People are being ignored and the Future is in deep shit."
Three gals were sitting at a bar throwing back a few drinks and talking about their sex lives. The first woman said: "I call my husband the dentist. Nobody can drill like he does."
The second woman giggled and confessed: "I call my husband the miner because of his incredible shaft."
The third woman quietly sipped her whiskey until her friends said: "Say, what do you call your husband?" She frowned and said: "The postman." "Why the postman?" her friends asked.
"Because he always delivers late, and half the time it's in the wrong box."