Menu
Finally, an answer for blonde jokes
Have you heard the one about the blonde that went to the doctor with a sprained ankle?
How about the blonde that went to the doctor with a hole in her hand?
I have.
I've also heard the one about the blonde in the cornfield and I know what you have when you find a blonde skeleton in the closet.
Some may find these jokes offensive. I, however, have found that with a little ingenuity, I can use the sometimes undeserved reputations blondes have gotten through the years to my advantage.
Think about it. I'm making chili for my husband, reaching up into the cabinet, I accidentally grab the cinnamon instead of the chili. "I'm sorry honey, we're going to have to go out for supper. I had a blonde moment."
When my editor keeps pointing out my recurring mistakes, I have a perfect excuse. It's called blonde obstinance. I get something trapped between my gold toned locks and it is really difficult to penetrate them with new knowledge.
When someone asks, "Why'd you do it like that?" in that superior voice (you know the one) I can simply slip into my shoulder pads for protection, roll my head back and forth and say "I don't know," and the problem will be solved.
I was born a blonde. While Mother Nature has done everything she can to change that fact, I feel it is my God-given right -- no, my responsibility -- to hold on to my birthright.
Unfortunately my husband seems to think Clairol is an intelligence negater.
I feel like I need to go in to treatment every time he gives me that "You've been at the bottle again, haven't you," look.
I can imagine the shock treatment -- being forced to look at myself as a brunette or a redhead day after day.
After six weeks of excruciating pain, I would be called cured.
Sure, I'd spend every day fighting the temptation to buy just one more box.
I would be strong for the first month of two, but finally, I would encounter that one moment when I needed the blonde excuse. In that moment, I would be back at the counter purchasing a box of Clairol. My husband would again be giving me the look.
I enjoy being blond. I can tell the jokes with the best of them. Just remember every time you come up with a dumb blonde joke, I find one more dumb blonde excuse.
By the way, do you know what you get when you stick a bunch of blondes in the freezer?
Frosted Flakes.