An ode to old age
There's quite an art to falling apart as the years go by,
And life doesn't begin at 40. That's a big fat lie.
My hair's getting thinner, my body is not;
The few teeth I have are beginning to rot.

I smell of Vick's-Vapo-Rub, not Chanel # 5;
My new pacemaker's all that keeps me alive.
When asked of my past, every detail I'll know,
But what was I doing 10 minutes ago?

Well, you get the idea, what more can I say?
I'm off to read the obituary, like I do every day;
If my names not there, I'll once again start -
Perfecting the art of falling apart

Bungee Jumping In Mexico
Two Americans decide to open a bungee-jumping business in Mexico.

They set up on the square of a small village. Bob jumps, bounces at the end of the cord, and flies back up by the platform. Jeff isn't able to catch his friend, but he notices he has a few cuts and scratches.

Bob falls again, bounces, and comes back up. This time, he is bruised and bleeding. Again, Jeff misses him. The third time it happens, Bob comes back pretty messed up - he's got a couple of broken bones and is almost unconscious. Luckily, Jeff finally catches him and says, "Holy cow, what happened? Was the cord too long?"

Bob looks confused and says, "No, the cord was fine... but what the heck is a pinata?"