jam gangsal berapa Jokes

Three men die: A Physicist, a Philosopher and a Local town idiot. They stand before the gates of heaven. Between them and the gates stands St. Peter. St. Peter tells the three men "Sorry boys, but it seems heaven is getting jam-packed. To let you in, you have to beat me intellectually, either through a form of a question or a challenge." The first to come forward is the Physicist, and he tells St. Peter with great confidence "Show me the entire mathematical markup of the Higgs Boson." To which St. Peter merely snaps his finger and produces a dozen large whiteboards and proceeds to write up the whole markup from memory. After careful examination, the Physicist reluctantly agrees that he is correct, and with one snap of the finger, St. Peter sends him to the fiery gates of hell. The next to come forward is the Philosopher. Thinking that the Physicist made a grave mistake of challenging St. Peter with an empirical question, he decides to give a less-than-empirical challenge of his own. He tells St. Peter "Show me all of the works of Socrates." he says with a smirk, knowing Socrates never wrote down his teachings, St. Peter would be hard pressed on producing an answer. But despite this, St. Peter produces a stack of papers, and the Philosopher reads it with great criticism. There are things there he had never even heard of, and questioned the paper's authenticity, to which St. Peter remarked "Me and Socrates have chatted a lot ever since he got here." And with a snap of a finger, the Philosopher was gone. Last to come forward is the Local town idiot. The idiot asks St. Peter, "Could I give you a riddle instead?" and St. Peter replies "Of course! I love riddles!" and the idiot proceeds. "What comes up a hill with six legs and comes down with four, comes back up with two legs and back down with no more?" St. Peter ponders it for a good five minutes and arrives at no answer, and tells the idiot "Well, congratulations, you have left me dumbfounded." and with a snap of a finger, the gates of heaven opens up. The idiot proceeds to enter heaven, but right before he does so, he feels St. Peter tapping on his shoulder, he turns around. "So," St. Peter asks "What's the answer to your riddle?" The Idiot shrugs his shoulders and says "How the heck should I know?"

It's been a long, long day, and John the truck driver really wanted to just get home. Living in Washington D.C, he knew traffic would be bad this time of evening, but to his horror, a traffic jam reared ahead of him larger than anything he could have anticipated. Bewildered, since he hadn't heard anything yet on the news, he stuck his head out and just kept seeing cars slowing down and then driving off. Nothing was moving. Suddenly, a man knocks on the window. The driver rolls down the window and asks, "What's going on?" "Terrorists have kidnapped the entire US Congress!" "Oh my gosh!" exclaimed John. "And they're asking for a $100 million dollar ransom." "Jeez Louise!" moaned John. "Otherwise, they are going to douse them all in gasoline and set them on fire!" "Lord have mercy!" cried John. "We are going from car to car, collecting donations." "How much is everyone giving, on average?" asked John. "About a gallon."

A man walks out to the street and stops a taxi just going by. He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, "Perfect timing. You're just like Frank." Passenger: "Who?" Cabbie: "Frank Feldman... he was a cabbie who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along when you needed a cab, he was always in the right place at the right time. Things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time." Passenger: "There are always a few clouds over everybody." Cabbie: "Not Frank Feldman. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand-Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone, and danced like a Broadway star. And you should have heard him play the piano! He was an amazing guy, perfect in every way." Passenger: "Sounds like he was something really special." Cabbie: "There's more. He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody's birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order, and which fork to eat them with. And he could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman, he could do everything right, he never made a mistake, he was perfect!!" Passenger: "Wow, some guy then." Cabbie: "He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams. Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good. He was the best lover in bed, and could take his wife to the top of the mountain. He would never answer her back, even if she was in the wrong. His clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too. He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman." Passenger: "This Frank Feldman was an amazing fellow. How did you meet him?" Cabbie: "Well... I never actually met Frank. He died, and I have the pleasure of being married to his widow."

There was a Redhead man, a Bald Man and a Blond man working on the top of a cliff. The Redhead said, "You know, every day it's the same sandwich my wife makes me. I'm so sick of it. If I have cheese in my sandwich tomorrow, I'll jump off this cliff." The Bald man said, "Right there with you my friend. If I have jam in my sandwich tomorrow, I'll jump off the cliff." The Blond man said, "With you all the way chaps, If I have ham tomorrow, I'll jump off the cliff." The next day, the Redhead man had cheese, the Bald man had ham, and the Blond man had jam. So they all jumped. At the funerals, the wives of the Redhead man and the bald man said, "Why didn't they just TELL us they didn't like their sandwiches??" The Blond's wife said in tears, "I don't understand it... He made his own sandwiches!"

Harold and Al were on a small chartered airplane when the pilot suddenly had a heart attack. "Don`t Panic," cried Harold heroically. "I`ll land this baby!" Seizing the controls he headed for the runway at LaGuardia Airport, and began wrestling the diving plane to the ground. Just as the wheels touched the ground, Al screamed, "Red lights!! Right in front of you!" Immediately Harold threw the engine in reverse and jammed on the brakes, bringing the plane to a violent stop just inches from the edge of the lights. "Brother!" he puffed, wiping his brow. "That sure was a short runway!" "Yeah," agreed Al, looking side to side, "but look how WIDE it is."