A hobo (wanderer) comes up to the front door of a neat looking farmhouse and raps gently on the door.
When the farm owner answers, the hobo asks him, "Please, sir, could you give me something to eat? I haven't had a good meal in several days."
The owner says, "I have made a fortune in my lifetime by supplying goods for people. I've never given anything away for nothing. However, if you go around the back, you will see a gallon of paint and a clean paint brush. If you will paint my porch in the back of the house, I will give you a good meal."
So the hobo goes around back and a while later he again knocks on the door.
The owner asks, "Finished already? Good. Come on in. Sit down. The cook will bring your meal right in."
The hobo says, "Thank you very much, sir. But there's something that I think you should know. It's not a Porsche you got there. It's a BMW..."
A lawyer parked at the side of the road, and opened the door of his BMW. Suddenly, a speeding car appeared from nowhere, hitting the door and ripping it off of his car. The lawyer was outraged.
When the police arrived at the scene, the lawyer whined, "Officer, look what that person did to my Beemer! You have to find him and arrest him!"
"You lawyers are so materialistic, you make me sick," the officer snapped. "You're so upset about your stupid BMW, that you didn't even notice that your left arm was ripped off in the accident."
"Oh my God....", gasped the lawyer, finally noticing the bloody stump where his arm had been. "My Rolex!"
A lawyer returns to his parked BMW to find the headlights broken and considerable damage. There's no sign of the offending vehicle but he's relieved to see that there's a note stuck under the windshield wiper. "Sorry. I just backed into your Beemer. The witnesses who saw the accident are nodding and smiling at me because they think I'm leaving my name, address and other particulars. But I'm not."
On a golf tour in Ireland, Tiger Woods drives his BMW into a petrol station in a remote part of the Irish countryside. The pump attendant, obviously knows nothing about golf, greets him ina typical Irish manner completely unaware of who the golfing pro is."Top of the mornin' to yer, sir" says the attendant. Tiger nods a quick "hello" and bends forward to pick up the nozzle. As he does so, two tees fall out of his shirt pocket onto the ground."What are those?, asks the attendant. "They're called tees" replies Tiger."Well, what on the god's earth are dey for?" inquires the Irishman."They're for resting my balls on when I'm driving", says Tiger."Fookin Jaysus", says the Irishman, "BMW thinks of everything!"
A day from the diary of a BMW driver...
"The other day I was cruising along as usual coming onto one of my motorways, which was very busy with inferior cars.
First off, I couldn't believe that the volume of traffic DIDN'T slow down for me AT ALL as I came off the slip road! I had to squeeze into a barely big enough gap between two cars in order to get onto my motorway!
The driver of the car behind me did realise his mistake though and honked an apology to me with a long blast of his horn.
Unbelievably, I had to do the same again before I could get to the BMW lane.
Anyway, once I was in the BMW lane and posing along at 110 mph enjoying the adulation that the inferior car drivers were giving me, I noticed an inferior car ahead of me which was not only in the BMW lane of my motorway, but was driving at a ridiculous 70 mph!
Naturally, I got within a foot or so of his rear bumper and flashed my headlights to remind him more...