Wrong stuff
A parts manager for a small electronics shop had occasion to order part No. 669 from the factory. But when he received it he noticed that someone had sent part No. 699 instead.
Furious at the factory’s incompetence, he promptly sent the part back along with a letter giving them a piece of his mind.
Less than a week later, he received the same part back with a letter containing just four words: “TURN THE PART OVER.”
A real professional
Activated from the Army Reserves for a joint service Arctic exercise, I was assigned to the air reconnaissance section. Although I had recently been promoted, I was feeling rusty, and wanted to get started learning my duties so as not to appear too “green.”
I confided to the Air Force lieutenant colonel who greeted me that I was anxious to meet the Air Boss right away.
“Don’t worry, son,” he said reassuringly, “the Air Boss is a real professional, knows his stuff cold and works well with his people. Great guy.”
“Terrific!” I replied. “What’s his name?”
Looking through the roster, the welcoming officer replied, “O’Hara.”
“Oh, no,” I groaned. “That’s me.”
What’s his name?
Three Irishmen, Paddy, Sean and Shamus, having left the pub a wee late one night, found themselves on the road, which led past the old graveyard.
“Come have a look over here,” says Paddy, “it’s Michael O’Grady’s grave, God bless his soul. He lived to the ripe old age of 87. Good blood, those O’Grady’s!”
“That’s nothing,” says Sean. “Here’s one named Patrick O’Toole, it says here that he was 95 when he died. Aye, those O’Tooles are a hardy bunch, they are!”
Just then, Shamus yells out, “Forget him, here’s a fella that lived to be 145 years old!”
“What was his name?” ask Paddy & Sean.
Shamus stumbles around a bit, awkwardly lights a match to see what else is written on the stone marker, and exclaims, “Miles from Dublin!”