A young brunette goes into the doctor’s office and says that her body hurts wherever she touches it.
“Impossible,” says the doctor. “Show me.”
She takes her finger and pushes her elbow and screams in agony. She pushes her knee and screams, pushes her ankle and screams and so on it goes.
The doctor says, “You’re not really a brunette are you?”
She says, “No, I’m really a blonde.”
“I thought so,” he says. “Your finger is broken.”
Good one!
A blonde is in the supermarket, and as I go up and down the aisles, I notice she is standing for a long time in front of the Orange Juice cooler.
I asked why she was there so long, and she replied, “because it says ‘concentrate’ ...”