A man walks out to the street and catches a taxi just going by. He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, “Perfect timing, Mister! You’re just like Frank.”

Passenger: “Who?”

Cabbie: “Frank Feldman. He’s a guy who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time.”

Passenger: “There are always a few clouds over everybody.”

Cabbie: “Not Frank Feldman. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand-Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy.”

Passenger: “Sounds like he was something really special.”

Cabbie: “There’s more! He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody’s birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman, he could do everything right.”

Passenger: “Wow, some guy then.”

Cabbie: “He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams. Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good. He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too — He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman.”

Passenger: “An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?”

Cabbie: “Well, I never actually met Frank. He died and I married his damned widow.”

Author Unknown

Warning! You are about to enter a Pun Zone!

A recent college graduate took a new job in a hilly Eastern city and began commuting each day to work through a tiring array of tunnels, bridges and traffic jams. To make the task less onerous, he invited several of his coworkers to share the ride. He soon found, however, that the commute continued to get more stressful, especially the trips through the tunnels. He consulted the company doctor.

“Doc,” the frustrated commuter complained, “I’m fine on the bridges, in the traffic, in the day and at night, and even when Joe forgets to bathe all week long. But when I get in the tunnels and I’ve got those four other guys crowded around me in the car, I get anxious and dizzy and feel like I’m going to explode.”

Without further analysis, the doctor announced he had identified the ailment.

“What is it, Doc? Am I going insane?”

“No, no, no, my boy. You have something very common in these parts.”

“Tell me! What is it?”

“You have what is known as Carpool Tunnel Syndrome.”

Author Unknown