The Wifi Password

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A man goes into a bar in the airport and asks the bartender what the password is to their wi-fi.

Bartender: You need to buy a drink first.
Me: Okay, I’ll have a coke.
Bartender: Is Pepsi okay?
Me: Sure. How much is that?
Bartender: $3
Me: There you go. So, what’s the wi-fi password?
Bartender: You need to buy a drink first. No spaces, all lowercase.

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A Blonde Interview

A young blonde woman goes to an office for a job interview. The interviewer decides to start with the basics

“So, miss, can you tell us your age, please?” He asks.
The blonde counts carefully on her fingers for about 3 seconds before replying “Ehh… 25!”

The interviewer tries another straightforward one to break the ice. “And can you tell us your height, please?” The young lady stands up and produces a measuring tape from her handbag. She then traps one end under her foot and extends the tape to the top of her head. She checks the measurement and announces, “Five foot three!”

This isn’t looking good so the interviewer goes for the real basics.

“And ehh, just to confirm for our records, your name please?” The blonde bobs her head from side to side for about twenty seconds, mouthing something silently to herself, before replying “Stephanie”.

The interviewer is completely baffled at this stage, so he asks “Just out of curiosity, miss. We can understand your counting on your fingers to work out your age, and the measuring tape for your height is obvious, but what were you doing when we asked you your name?”

“Oh that!” replies the blonde, “That’s just me running through ‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…

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At 80, I Found Love and Married Again… But My Granddaughter Kicked Me Out,.. == When my granddaughter threw me out after I got married at 80, I decided I couldn’t accept such disrespect. With my new husband, Walter, we came up with a bold plan to teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget, leading to a confrontation that changed our family forever. I never imagined I’d be sharing this story, but here we are. My name is Eleanor, and I turned 80 last spring. I lived in a cozy room in my granddaughter Mia’s house. It was small, but I filled it with memories and trinkets from my life. “Morning, Grandma,” Mia called out one sunny Saturday, pushing open my door without knocking. She never bothered to knock. “Morning, dear,” I replied, folding my blanket. “What’s the rush?” “We’re taking the kids to the zoo. Need anything?” “No, I’m all good. Go have fun.” She rushed out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I tried not to complain — after all, I had sold my house to help pay for her university. Her parents had passed away in a car accident when she was just 14. I took her in and raised her as best I could. Now she lived here with her husband, Mark, and their two children. The house was big, noisy, and full of life. A few months ago, my life took a surprising turn at the local community center. I met Walter. He was warm, funny, always carrying a camera around his neck. We started chatting, and before long, I found myself looking forward to our afternoons together. It felt like love had found me again. One afternoon, while Mia was at work, I decided to tell her my news. Later that evening, I found her in the kitchen flipping through a cookbook. “Mia, I have something to share,” I began. She glanced up. “What is it, Grandma?” “I’ve met someone. His name is Walter, and… well, he asked me to marry him.” She stared at me, eyes wide. “Marry? As in a wedding?” “Yes,” I said, unable to hide my excitement. “Isn’t it wonderful?” Her reaction wasn’t what I hoped for. “Grandma, you’re 80. You’re too old for all this wedding stuff. And Walter can’t move in here.” I was shocked. “Why not? There’s plenty of room.” “This is our house. We need our space.” I tried to explain, but she refused to listen. The next morning, she packed up my belongings and set them by the front door. “Mia, what are you doing?” I asked, tears forming. “You have to go, Grandma. Maybe Walter has space for you.” I stood there stunned. After everything I had done — raising her, selling my home — she was throwing me out. My heart ached as I looked at the boxes, my whole life reduced to piles on the floor. With nowhere else to go, I called Walter. When I told him what happened, he was furious. “She did what?” he yelled. “Eleanor, get your things. I’m coming to get you now. You’re coming to stay with me.” I hesitated. “I don’t want to be a burden.” “You’re not a burden. You’re my future wife. We’re in this together.” With no other option, I loaded my things into Walter’s car. As we drove away, I glanced back at Mia’s house, my heart heavy with pain. At Walter’s place, everything felt different. He welcomed me with love, making me feel at home. We started planning our new life, but Mia’s betrayal still hurt deeply. “We’ll show her,” Walter said one evening, his eyes determined. “She needs to learn respect.” I didn’t know how, but I trusted him completely. He always made the impossible feel possible. “Alright,” I agreed. “Let’s do it.” And so, our plan began. Walter and I spent many evenings crafting our next move. Walter, being an award-winning photographer, came up with a brilliant idea. Mia loved photography and never missed the annual local photography exhibition. “Eleanor,” Walter said one night, “I’ve got a ticket to the exhibition. Mia won’t be able to resist. I’ll send it to her anonymously.” I nodded, feeling a surge of excitement. “Let’s do it.”… (continue reading in the 1st comment)

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