When the usher came by and noticed this, he whispered to the man,
"Sorry, sir, but you're only allowed one seat." The man lifted his
head, mumbled something but didn't budge. The usher became impatient. "Sir, if you don't get up from there I'm going to have to call the manager."

Again, the man just lifted his head briefly, mumbled something and returned to his prone position, which infuriated the usher who turned and marched briskly back up the aisle in search of his manager.

In a few moments, both the usher and the manager returned and stood over the man. Together the two of them tried repeatedly to move him, but with no success.

Finally, they summoned the police. The cop surveyed the situation briefly then asked, "All right buddy, what's your name?"
"Sam," the man moaned. "Where ya from, Sam?" With pain in his voice Sam replied "the balcony."

If you throw your Area Director and a 50 pound bag of popcorn off the roof of your theater which will land first?

who cares?

jajaaaaaahaaaaa. right!!

Never said I was funny.

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Attention: (on the all-call) “Manager needed for customer assistance.”

Senior: “Are you the Manager?” ( the four dreaded words in the theater business)

Mgr: “Yes Mam, how can I help you?”

Senior: “I’m going to give you my two cents! Your prices are outrageous!! I don’t know how seniors can afford to go to the movies these days!!”

Mgr: “How much did you pay for your ticket, Mam?”

Senior: “$5.50, entirely too much!”

Mgr: “May I ask if you purchased any concessions?”

Senior: “Certainly not. If I did, I’d only be able to afford dog food for my dinner.”

Mgr: “Okay, Mam, let’s do a little quick math. Your ticket cost you $5.50. Correct?”

Senior: “Correct”.

Mgr. “ Now, lets deduct the 6% sales tax on that ticket. After all, the theater has to pay that directly to the state, yes?”

Senior: “Alright”

Mgr: “Fine, so 6% of $5.50 is $.33, so the theater is taking in $5.17.”

Senior: “I’ll concede that.”

Mgr: “Now lets take into account what we pay the distributor for the film rental. What did you go to see?”

Senior: “I saw _____ (a first run movie).”

Mgr: “The split on that film is 90/10, 90% going to the distributor, so we get 10%, so in effect we grossed $.52 on your admission, just to round things off.”

Senior: “Oh, okay.”

Mgr: “May I ask how many people were in the theater during your show?

Senior: “Two. My husband and I.”

Mgr: “So, that’s a total of $1.04 we took in on your show. Our rent averages one third of our ticket gross, on average, so now we are down to $.68. Then we subtract our fixed labor costs, (cashier, doorman, usher and projectionist) and other miscellaneous costs (electric, water, phone, insurance), and now we have a gross of $.48.”

Senior: “So???”

Mgr: “How long has this conversation lasted?”

Senior: “Exactly three minutes.”

Mgr: “I make $10 per hour. That equates to .1666666 cents a minute. Talking to you has just cost our company $.50, rounding it off. Bottom line: You have just caused our company a loss of two cents. Please give your two cents to the cashier on your way out the door.”

Jerry was hired to play his trumpet on the score of a movie, and he was excited. He was especially thrilled because he got to take two long solos. After the sessions, which went great, Jerry couldn't wait to see the finished product. He asked the producer where and when he could catch the film.

A little embarrassed, the producer explained that the music was for a porno flick that would be out in a month, and he told Jerry where he could go to see it.

A month later, Jerry, with his collar up and wearing glasses, went to the theatre where the picture was playing. He walked in and sat way in the back, next to an elderly couple who also seemed to be disguised and hiding. The movie started, and it was the filthiest, most perverse porno flick ever...group sex, S&M, golden showers...and then, halfway through, a dog got in on the action.

Before anyone could blink an eye, the dog has had sex with all the women, in every orifice; and most of the men. Embarrassed, Jerry turned to the old couple and whispered, "I'm only here for the music."

I've always ordered beverages one simple way; e.g : "A Coke, please."

Lately, though, this hasn't seemed to work. Waitresses now often respond, "I'm sorry, we don't have Coke. We have Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, 7-Up, Mr. Pibb,
Fanta ,Yahoo and Red Bull."

Tired of listening to the long list of soft drinks, I thought I'd make life easier. So one day I simply asked the snack bar lad at a movie theatre for a "dark, cold,
carbonated beverage."

Talking like Jedi Master Yoda is a fun and easy way to make a joke
amongst your fellow Star Wars fans. His unique style of reversing
the words in a sentence are easily recognized by fans around the
world.

Here's How:

1. Take the first two or three words of a sentence, and just add
them to the end. For example: 'You will find what you are looking
for' turns into 'Find what you are looking for, you will.'

2. Rearranging the negative in a sentences works very well. For
example: 'I will not help you' turns into 'I will help you not.'
Avoiding contractions will help in this -- 'I can't go there'
turns into 'Go there, I can not.'

3. Adding a 'hmmmm...' at the end of an altered question. For
example, 'Do you know what I am talking about?' turns into 'Know
what I am talking about, do you? Hmmm...?'

4. Adding a 'yes' to an altered statement. For example: 'You are
here for my help' turns into 'Here for my help, you are... yes...'

One Halloween a trick-or-treater came to my door dressed as "Rocky" in boxing gloves and satin shorts. Soon after I gave him some goodies, he returned for more.

"Aren't you the same 'Rocky' who left my doorstep several minutes ago?" I asked.

AT THE MOVIES!!!!

My mother was a fanatic about public toilets.

As a little girl, she'd bring me in the stall, teach me to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat.

Then, she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, never sit on a public toilet seat." And she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat.

But by this time, I'd have peed down my leg. And we'd go home. That was a long time ago.I've had lots of experience with public toilets since then, but I'm still not particularly fond of public toilets, especially those with powerful, red-eye sensors. Those toilets know when you want them to flush. They are psychic toilets. But I always confuse their psychic ability by following my mother's advice and assuming The Stance.

The Stance is excruciatingly difficult to maintain when one's bladder is especially full. This is most likely to occur after watching a full-length feature film. You know what I mean. You drink a two-liter cup of Diet Coke, then sit still through a three-hour saga because, for God's sake, even if you didn't wipe or wash your hands in the bathroom, you'd still miss the pivotal part of the movie or the second scene, in which they flash the leading man'snaked derriere. So, you cross your legs and you hold it. And you hold it until that first credit rolls and you sprint to the bathroom, about ready to explode all over your internal organs.

And at the bathroom, you find a line of women that makes you think there's a half-price sale on Mel Gibson's underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, also crossing their legs and smiling politely. And you finally get closer. You check for feet under the stall doors. Every one is occupied. You hope no one is doing frivolous things behind those stall doors, like blowing her nose or checking the contents of her wallet.

Finally, a stall door opens and you dash, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get into find the door won't latch. It doesn'tmatter. You hang your handbag on the door hook, yank down your pants and assume The Stance.

Relief. More relief. Then your thighs begin to shake. You'd love to sit down but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold TheStance as your thighs experience a quake that would register an eight on the Richter scale. To take your mind off it, you reach for the toilet paper. Might as well be ready when you are done. The toilet paper dispenser is empty. Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny napkin you wiped your fingers on after eating buttered popcorn. It would have to do. You crumble it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail. Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work and your pocketbook whams you in the head. "Occupied!" you scream as you reach out for the door, dropping your buttered popcorn napkin in a puddle and falling backward, directly onto the toilet seat. You get up quickly, but it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with all the germs and lifeforms on the bare seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper, not that there was any, even if you had enough time to. And your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew, because her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because,frankly, "You don't know what kind of diseases you could get." And by this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of water like a fountain and then it suddenly sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged to China.At that point, you give up. You're finished peeing.You're soaked by the splashing water. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a Chicklet wrapper you found in your pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the sinks with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past a line of women, still waiting,cross-legged and unable to smile politely at this point.

One kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you are trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long! as the Mississippi River. You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and say warmly, "Here You might need this."

At this time, you see your spouse, who has entered,used and exited his bathroom and read a copy of War and Peace while waiting for you.

"What tookyou so long?" he asks, annoyed.

This is when you kick him sharply in the shin and go home.

Samuel Goldwyn, the movie producer who founded Goldwyn Productions and Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer was known for his misuse of the English language.

"An oral contract isn't worth the paper it's written on."

"Any man who goes to a psychiatrist ought to have his head examined."

"In two words, impossible."

"Include me out"

"I don't care if it (his new picture) doesn't make a nickel. I just want every man woman and child in America to see it."

When Goldwyn's secretary asked him if she should destroy files that were more than ten years old, he answered, "Yes, but keep copies."

When told he couldn't film Radclyffe Hall's "The Well of Loneliness" because it dealt with lesbians, he replies, "All right, where they got lesbians, we'll use Austrians."

"I'm willing to admit that I may not always be right, but I am never wrong."

"Tell them (the actors) to stand closer apart."

"If I were in this business only for the business, I wouldn't be in this business."

"You fail to overlook the crucial point."

"For your information, just answer me one question!'

"Its absolutely impossible, but it has possibilities."

"Put it out of your mind. In no time, it will be a forgotten memory."

"Go see that turkey for yourself, and see for yourself why you
shouldn't see it."

"Can she sing? She's practically a Florence Nightingale."

"Give me a couple of years and I'll make that actress an overnight
success."

Steven Spielberg was busy discussing his new action adventure about famous classical composers.

Bruce Willis, Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger were in the room.

"Who do you want to play?" Spielberg asked Bruce Willis.

"I've always been a big fan of Chopin," said Bruce. "I'll play him."

"And you, Sylvester?" asked Spielberg. "Mozart's the one for me!" said Sly.

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