An overweight business associate of mine decided it was time to shed some excess pounds.
He took his new diet seriously, even changing his driving route to avoid his favourite bakery.
One morning, however, he arrived at work carrying a gigantic coffee cake. We all scolded him, but his smile remained cherubic.
“This is a very special coffee cake,” he explained.
“I accidentally drove by the bakery this morning, and there in the window was a host of goodies. I felt this was no accident, so I prayed, ‘Lord, if you want me to have one of those delicious coffee cakes, let me have a parking place directly in front of the bakery.’
“And sure enough,” he continued, “the eighth time around the block, there it was!”
A dietitian was once addressing a large audience in Chicago:
“The material we put into our stomachs is enough to have k * lled most of us sitting here, years ago. Red meat is awful. Soft drinks erode your stomach lining. Chinese food is loaded with MSG.
Vegetables can be disastrous, and none of us realizes the long-term harm caused by the germs in our drinking water.
“But there is one thing that is the most dangerous of all and we all have eaten or will eat it. Can anyone here tell me what food it is that causes the most grief and suffering for years after eating it?”
A 75-year-old man in the front row stood up and said, “Wedding cake.”
A blond becomes terribly overweight, so her doctor put her on a diet.
“I want you to eat regularly for two days, then skip a day, and repeat this procedure for two weeks. The next time I see you, you’ll have lost at least five pounds.”
When the blonde returned, she shocked the doctor by losing nearly 20 pounds.
“Why, that’s amazing!” the doctor said, “Did you follow my instructions?”
The blonde nodded… “I’ll tell you though, I thought I was going to drop dead that third day.”
“From hunger, you mean?”, asked the doctor.”
“No, from skipping everywhere.”
I was at the customer-service desk, returning a pair of jeans that was too tight.
“Was anything wrong with them?” the clerk asked.
“Yes,” I said. “They hurt my feelings.”
