Did you hear about the Italian Chef who died? He Pasta Way.

Having a nice workout, then a nice runner's high on a nice Sunday.  So I'm a wee bit confused about this last paragraph, but I did save it earlier thinking it was a good one.  Since I'm confused, I thought why not let the hive mind at it and give them a two-fer.  

Here you go!




It was many years ago since the embarrassing day when a young woman, with a baby in her arms, entered his butcher shop and confronted him with the news that the baby was his and asked what was he going to do about it?

Finally he offered to provide her with free meat until the boy was 18.

She agreed.

He had been counting the years off on his calendar, and one day the teenager who had been collecting the meat each week, came into the shop and said, "I'll be 18 tomorrow."

"I know," said the butcher with a smile, "I've been counting too, tell your mother, when you take this parcel of meat home, that it is the last free meat she'll get, and watch the expression on her face."

When the boy arrived home, he told his mother.

The woman nodded and said, "Son, go back to the butcher and tell him I have also had free bread, free milk, and free groceries for the last 18 years, and watch the expression on HIS face!"





and...






Stone.

Sam died and left $50,000 in his will for an elaborate funeral.

As the last attenders left, Sam’s wife Rose turned to her oldest friend Sadie and said: “Well, I’m sure Sam would be pleased.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” replied Sadie, who leaned in close and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Tell me, how much did it really cost?”

“All of it,” said Rose. “Fifty thousand.”

“No!” Sadie exclaimed. “I mean, it was very nice, but really… $50,000?!”

Rose nodded. “The funeral was $6,500. I donated $500 to the church for the priest’s services. The food and drinks were another $500. And the rest went towards the memorial stone.”

Sadie computed quickly. “$42,500 for a memorial stone? Exactly how big is it?”

“Seven and a half carats"