p until last week, I still had it all. I had plenty to eat, my clothes were washed and pressed, I had a roof over my head, I had TV and Internet, and I went to the gym, the pool, and the library.
“I was working on my MBA on-line. I had no bills and no debt.
I even had full medical coverage.”
I felt sorry for him, so I asked, “What happened?
Drugs? A-l.c.ohol? Divorce?”
“Oh no, nothing like that,” he said.
“I was released from prison.”
Hi there.
I’m Bob. I’m 80.
Every morning, I sit on the same park bench and chat to my friend, Jim, who’s a full seven years older than me. I’ve always wondered where he gets all his stamina from – he goes for a jog each day without fail, before meeting me.
And, amazingly, he’s never out of breath.
One fine day, I plucked up the courage to ask him: “Hey Jim, how on earth do you have all that stamina at your age?”
“Well, I eat Italian bread every day. It keeps your energy level high and you’ll have great stamina with the ladies,” Jim replied. Intrigued, I decided to visit the local bakery on my way home to find myself some Italian bread and hopefully get a vitality boost.
As I looked around while trying to ensure that no-one caught on to what I was doing, the lady asked me if I needed any help.
“Do you have any Italian bread?” I asked sheepishly. “Yes, there’s a whole shelf of it.
Would you like some?”
“I want five loaves.”
“My goodness, five loaves?” she exclaimed. “By the time you get to the fifth loaf, it’ll be hard.”
I left as fast as my old legs could carry me!
