Three chicks were stranded on an deserted island - a brunette, redhead, and a blonde. The brunette looked over the water to the mainland and estimated about 20 miles to shore. So she announced, "I'm going to try to swim to shore." She swam out five miles and got really tired, by the time she made it ten miles she was too tired to go on, and she drowned.
The second chick, a redhead, said to herself, "I wonder if she made it. I guess it's better to try to get to the mainland than to stay here and starve to death." So she attempts to swim out. The redhead had a lot more endurance than the brunette, as she swam out 10 miles before she even got tired. After 15 miles, she was too tired to go on, and she drowned.
The blonde thought to herself, "I wonder if they made it! I think I'd better try to make it, too." So she swam out 5 miles, ten miles, 15 miles, nineteen miles from the island. The shore was just in sight, but she said, "I'm too tired to go on!" So she swam back.
A woman is fast approaching 40 years of age and is without a partner. This situation has her rather depressed due to her long history of failed relationships. After much debate she decides that the best thing to do is to take out a personal ad in the paper:Wanted: A good lover to be my friend; who won't beat me and won't run out on me.
After a week or so no one has responded to the ad. She is feeling particularly depressed when the door bell rings.
She opens the door to find a man with no arms and no legs lying on the front porch. Quite surprised at the sight she asks him what he wants.
He replies, "I'm responding to your ad for a good lover."
"How can that be? You have no arms and no legs!"
"I have no arms so I can't beat you and I have no legs so I can't run out on you!" he said.
Doctor Dave had slept with one of his patients and felt guilty all day long. No matter how much he tried to forget about it, he just couldn't. The guilt and sense of betrayal was overwhelming. But every once in a while he'd hear an internal, reassuring voice in his head that said:
"Dave, don't worry about it. You aren't the first medical practitioner to sleep with one of their patients, and you won't be the last. And you're single. Just let it go, Dave."
But invariably another voice in his head would bring him back to reality, whispering:
"Dave... Dave... Dave, you sick bastard. You're a vet."
