– How many Pollacks does it take to make a village of 4,009 Irish forget that Italians even exist?

– What do you get you when you combine Dracula with a roasted turkey in a world where Fangsgiving is simply not possible?

– What time was it, exactly, when the unusually small elephant sat on the very sturdy gate made of granite?

– What is Frankenstein’s favorite flavor of ice cream?

–A pessimist walks into a bar, orders a drink and proceeds to gulp down half of it. He then, says, “Bartender! My drink is half empty!”

An optimist then walks into the same bar and orders a drink. He also, right away, drinks half of it. “Bartender! My drink is half full!” the optimist proclaims loudly (for some reason).

A humorist then walks into the bar and also orders a drink. He then begins to tell this very joke. The optimist and the pessimist (the pessimist slightly less so) are amused in their fuzzy haze of drink to realize how their situation is just like the one being described in the joke. But before the humorist gets to the punchline, he keels over dead.

Dear Penthouse:

I never thought this could happen to me.

First of all, I’m a plumber, and with an occupation such as this, you always meet the most interesting people…and the most sexy (as far as I can tell in my limited experience)!

At one morning appointment, I was greeted at the door by a woman! Her enormous bosom, her amber hair, and her petite but pert breasts and her other-genderousness were driving me figuratively mad!

When I got home, my wife could “see” the lust in my eyes.

Immediately, right there in the kitchen, we ate dinner with our kids, watched some TV, and went to the bedroom (thus exiting the kitchen, if you know what I mean!).

We put away our clothes and before you know it, I was literally kissing my wife. Things were getting warmed up. She didn’t need to say anything, but her not pulling away and her still being married to me after seven years was her way of saying, “Sure, I guess!”

“I was wondering if you would try doing fellatio,” I asked.

“No,” she purred.

Soon, we were making love in the missionary position! I couldn’t believe it! It was something we never dared propose to each other. Before this, we’d always relied on a position which involved us being in two separate rooms.

She said she didn’t enjoy it…much!

But that wasn’t all: we also hugged and stroked each other’s hair and eventually fell asleep like animals!

Dear Penthouse:

I never thought this could happen to me…

One night, I guess I was speeding as I drove home after work. I was almost on my last nerve when I heard the sirens and saw the police lights closing in behind me. I was being pulled over.

But I was pleasantly surprised to find that the policeman walking towards my car was not a man at all. And, as she got closer, it became apparent she was a woman. A hot woman. And, might I add, she looked mighty tasty in the navy blue micro-mini and 6-inch high stiletto boots typically issued to policewomen.

When she got to the driver’s side window, she bent down oh-so-slowly (maybe slightly too slowly). I could not keep my eyes off her almost-great cleavage. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” she asked oh-so-sternly as she took off her hat and shook out her long black hair.

“N-no,” I replied. I could barely speak.

“You were going 65 in a 35 mile per hour zone,” she said while simultaneously licking her luscious lips. “And whipping around that curve like that, you could have killed that family walking back to their car from the beach,” she added with a touch of tease.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my license and gave it to her. I knew she wanted it (she asked for it). Then, we got to talking. She said she likes The Smiths. Right there, against the hood of my car, I said I do too. Then we talked for like half an hour about Morrissey. How he really articulates an — up until he came along, anyway — anti-rock and roll concept: shyness and indecision. I’ve never met a woman who liked him and his music as much as I do–and in the same way too. It seemed like she was getting into talking to me. But I couldn’t tell for sure.

Was she was interested in me? Or was she just…I didn’t want to make a move or ask her out and then have her freak. You know, like, “No I don’t want to go out with you! Why does every guy I talk to assume I want to go out with him? Christ!” So, after she gave me my ticket, without hesitation, I hesitated, awkwardly said, “Bye,” and sped off.

But, as I drove away, I was haunted by the fact that she may not have minded if I asked her out. She kind of gave me a look when I said bye. Didn’t she? And she did say, “I never get to talk about The Smiths. This was really nice.” Why would she say that, in that way, if she wasn’t at least trying to show some interest? I shouldn’t have rushed the conversation like that! I should have asked her out! Why did I question it? I have to stop second-guessing myself! For the rest of the drive and for a few hours in the dark of my lonely apartment, I mentally tortured myself like a stallion (torturing itself).

Dear Penthouse:

You have an e-greeting from

your mother

at http://www.bluemountain.com/birthdaywishes/4r9889u3ili?crig/penthouse

Click on the link above and enjoy!