and finds one for $499. Having only one dollar left, she goes to the telegraph office and finds out that it costs one dollar per word. She is stumped on how to tell the blonde to bring the truck and trailer. Finally, she tells the telegraph operator to send the word “comfortable.” Skeptical, the operator asks, “How will she know to come with the trailer from just that word?” The redhead replies, “She’s a blonde so she reads slow: ‘Come for ta bull.'”

no,” he replied. “Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him,” she said, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” breathed the bartender. “Is there anything I can do?” “Yes. I need for you to give him a message,” she continued, running her forefinger across the bartender’s lip and slyly popping a couple of her fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently.
“What should I tell him?” the flustered bartender managed to stammer.
“Tell him,” she whispered, “There’s no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper towels in the ladies room.

up out of
their seats to leave. One
by one, all left, but for
one man. She kept singing
until she finished her part.
The man beamed up at her,
“Wow, that was quite a
performance, have you ever thought of going professional?”
Surprised, she responds need, “umm…no?”
As he stood up to leave, he said, “a good decision…”