For The Rocket.

There was this nouveau riche blonde girl,

who went to the nearest Mercedes showroom with a pocketful of dollars, and came out with the latest model.

Half an hour later, she was back at the showroom, claiming that the car they sold her was terrible, that she was disappointed a brand-new Mercedes would get a fault in the gearbox after 15 minutes.

The management apologised and gave her a new car.

Again, after half an hour she came back.

The management offered her a new car, but sent along one of their engineers to see if they could figure out what the problem was.

She put in the first gear… sped up… put in second… third… fourth… fifth…

“And now,” she said, “for the rocket,” and threw it in reverse.

A blond was rollerblading with her headphones on.

She stopped at a hair salon and asked for a haircut.

She instructed that the hair stylist could not take off her headphones.

The stylist replied refusing to cut her hair, so she left.

She went to a different hair salon and said the same thing.

This time, the stylist agreed to cut her hair.

After a while, the blond fell asleep in the chair.

To wake her, the stylist took off the headphones.

The blond immediately fell on the floor, flopped and died.

Confused at what happened, the stylist put on the headphones.

They were saying: “breath in, breath out.”