100 Camels
As US tourists in Israel, a man and his wife were sitting outside a Bethlehem souvenir shop, waiting for fellow tourists. An Arab salesman approached them carrying belts. After an impassioned sales talk yielded no results, he asked where they were from. 'America,' the husband replied.

Looking at her dark hair and olive skin, the Arab responded, 'She's not from the States.'

'Yes, I am.' said the wife.

He looked at her and asked, 'Is he your husband?'

'Yes,' she replied.

Turning to the husband, he offered.... 'I'll give you 100 camels for her.' The husband looked stunned, and there was a long silence. Finally he replied,' She's not for sale.'

After the salesman left, the somewhat indignant wife asked her husband what took him so long to answer, to which the husband replied, 'I was trying to figure out how I'd get 100 camels back home.'

A final diagnosis
Thought I'd let my doctor check me,
'Cause I didn't feel quite right. . .
All those aches and pains annoyed me
And I couldn't sleep at night.

He could find no real disorder
But he wouldn't let it rest.
What with Medicare and Blue Cross,
We would do a couple tests.

To the hospital he sent me
Though I didn't feel that bad.
He arranged for them to give me
Every test that could be had.

I was fluoroscoped and cystoscoped,
My aging frame displayed.
Stripped, on an ice cold table,
While my gizzards were x-rayed.

I was checked for worms and parasites,
For fungus and the crud,
While they pierced me with long needles
Taking samples of my blood.

Doctors came to check me over,
Probed and pushed and poked around,
And to make sure I was living
They then wired me for sound.

They have finally concluded,
Their results have filled a page.
What I have will someday kill me;
My affliction is old age.