A surgeon went to check on his patient after an operation.

—You’ll be fine—, he said.

She asked,

—How long will it be before I am able to have a normal sex life again, doctor?

The surgeon seemed to pause, and a small tear ran down his cheek from the corner of his eye, which alarmed the girl.

—What’s the matter, doctor?  I will be all right, won’t I?

He replied,

—Yes, you’ll be fine. It’s just that no one has ever asked me that after having their tonsils out.

When his son refused to get a job, his father insisted he join the Marine Corps. At the physical, the doctor directed the reluctant recruit to read the eye chart across the room.

—What chart, doc?—, the young man asked.

—The one on the wall!—, the doctor said.
—What wall?—, said the young man.

Sensing he had a deadbeat on his hands, and wanting to fill the quota, the doctor asked his nurse to strip down and walk into the exam room. 

—Now what do you see, son?

—Doc, I can’t see a thing, I’m as blind as a bat.

The doctor said,
—Well, you may not see anything, but your dick is pointing straight towards Paris Island, South Carolina. Welcome to the U.S. Marine Corps!

Courtesy of Bob Meehan

Courtesy of Eva Matute

Six retired Italian Floridian fellows were playing poker in the condo clubhouse when Guido loses $500 on a single hand, clutches his chest, and drops dead at the table.

Showing respect for their fallen comrade, the other five continue playing, but standing up.

At the end of the game, Giovanni looks around and asks,

—So, who’s gonna’ tell his wife?

They cut the cards. Pasquale picks the low card and has to carry the news. They tell him to be discreet, be gentle, don’t make a bad situation any worse.

—Discreet? I’m the most discreet person you’ll ever meet. Discretion is my middle name. Leave it to me!

So, Pasquale goes over to the Guido’s condo and knocks on the door. The wife answers through the door and asks what he wants?

Pasquale declares:

—Your husband just lost $500 in a poker game and is afraid to come home.

—Tell him to drop dead!—, yells the wife.

—I’ll go tell him—, says Pasquale.

Courtesy of Fernando Lacoste