A Problem of Problems
A young couple decided to wed.

As the big day approached, they grew apprehensive.

Each had a problem they had never before shared with anyone, not even each other.

The Groom-to-be, overcoming his fear, decided to ask his father for advice.

"Father," he said, "I am deeply concerned about the success of my marriage."

His father replied, "Don't you love this girl?"

"Oh yes, very much," he said, "but you see, I have very smelly feet, and I'm afraid that my fiance will be put off by them."

"No problem," said dad, "all you have to do is wash your feet as often as possible, and always wear socks, even to bed."

Well, to him this seemed a workable solution.

The bride-to-be, overcoming her fear, decided to take her problem up with her mom.

"Mom," she said, "When I wake up in the morning my breath is truly awful."

"Honey," her mother consoled, "everyone has bad breath in the morning."

"No, you don't understand,. My morning breath is so bad, I'm afraid that my fiance will not want to sleep in the same room with me."

Her mother said simply, "Try this. In the morning, get straight out of bed, and head for the kitchen and make breakfast. While the family is busy eating, move on to the bathroom and brush your teeth. The key is, not to say a word until you've brushed your teeth."

"I shouldn't say good morning or anything?" the daughter asked.

"Not a word," her mother affirmed.

"Well, it's certainly worth a try," she thought.

The loving couple were finally married. Not forgetting the advice each had received, he with his perpetual socks and she with her morning silence, they managed quite well.

That is, until about six months later. Shortly before dawn one morning, the husband wakes with a start to find that one of his socks had come off.

Fearful of the consequences, he frantically searches the bed. This, of course, wakes his bride and without thinking, she asks, "What on earth are you doing?"

"Oh, my," he replies, "you've swallowed my sock!"

A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop...
A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop in San Francisco's Chinatown. Picking through the objects on display he discovers a detailed bronze sculpture of a rat. The sculpture is so interesting and unique that he picks it up and asks the shop owner the price. "Twelve dollars for the rat, sir," says the shop owner, "and an extra thousand for the story behind it." "At that price, you can keep the story, old man," he replies, "but I'll take the bronze rat." The transaction complete, the tourist leaves the store with the bronze rat under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of the store, two live rats emerge from a sewer drain and fall into step behind him. Nervously looking over his shoulder, he begins to walk faster, but every time he passes another sewer, more rats come out and follow him. By the time he's walked two blocks, at least a hundred rats are at his heels, and people begin to point and shout. He walks even faster, and soon breaks into a trot as multitudes of rats swarm from sewers, basements, vacant lots, and abandoned cars... following him. Rats by the thousands are at his heels, and as he sees the waterfront at the bottom of the hill he panics and starts to run full tilt. No matter how fast he runs, the rats keep up, squealing hideously now not just thousands but millions, so that by the time he comes racing to the water's edge a trail of rats twelve blocks long is behind him. Making a mighty leap, he jumps up onto a lamp post, grasping it with one arm, while he hurls the bronze rat into San Francisco Bay as far as he can throw it. Pulling his legs up and clinging to the post, he watches in amazement as the seething tide of rats surges over the breakwater into the sea, where they drown. Shaken and mumbling, he makes his way back to the antique shop. "Ah sir, you've come back for the story," says the owner. "No," says the tourist, "I was just hoping you had a bronze sculpture of a lawyer "