Since this was The Week From Hell, it stands to reason that today's funnies are Hell related.
A Texan dies and goes to Hell. While down there the Devil notices that the Texan is not suffering like the rest. He checks the gauges and sees that it's 90 degrees and about 80% humidity. So he goes over to the Texan and asks why he's so happy. The Texan says, "I like it here. The temperature is just like Texas in June."
The Devil isn't happy with the Texan's answer and decides to get him, so he goes over and turns up the temperature to 100 degrees and the humidity to 90%. After turning everything up he goes looking for the Texan. He find him standing around unbuttoning his shirt, just as happy as can be. The Devil quizzes the Texan again as to why he's so happy. The Texan says, "This is even better. It's like Texas in July."
The Devil, now upset, decides to really make the Texan really suffer. He goes over to the controls and turns the heat up to 120 degrees and the humidity to 100%. "Now lets see what the Texan is up to," he says. So he goes looking for the Texan. He find him taking his shirt off, even happier than before. The Devil can't figure it out. He asks the Texan why he's happy now. The Texan replies, "This is great, it's just like Texas in August".
The Devil says, "That's it, I'll get this guy." He goes over and turns the temperature down to a freezing 25 degrees. "Let's see what the Texan has to say about this. "The Devil looks around and finds the Texan jumping up and down for joy yelling, "THE RANGERS HAVE FINALLY WON THE WORLD SERIES!".
One day a guy dies and winds up in hell. As he is wallowing in despair, he has his first meeting with the devil…
Satan: Why so glum?
Guy: Why do you think? I’m in hell!
Satan: Hell’s not so bad. We actually have a lot of fun down here. You a drinking man?
Guy: Sure, I love to drink.
Satan: Well you’re gonna love Mondays then. On Mondays, all we do is drink. Whiskey, tequila, beer, soft drinks, you name it! And you don’t have to worry about hangovers because you’re dead anyway.
Guy: Gee, that sounds great!
Satan: You a smoker?
Guy: You better believe it!
Satan: All right! You’re gonna love Tuesdays. We get the finest cigars from all over the world and smoke our lungs out. If you get cancer—no biggie, you’re already dead, remember?
Guy: Wow… that’s awesome!
Satan: I bet you like to gamble.
Guy: Why, yes. As a matter of fact, I do.
Satan: Good, because Wednesdays you can gamble all you want. Craps, blackjack, roulette, poker, slots, and Kino. If you go bankrupt, you’re dead anyway. What about drugs?
Guy: Are you kidding? Love drugs! You don’t mean…
Satan: That’s right! Thursday is drug day. Help yourself to a great big bowl of crack…or smack. Smoke a doobie the size of a submarine. You can do all the drugs you want, you’re dead, who cares?!?!?!
Guy: WOW! I never realized Hell was such a cool place!
Satan: You gay?
Guy: No…
Satan: Ooooh…You’re gonna HATE Fridays
One day in the future, Bill Clinton has a heart attack and dies. He immediately goes to Hell, where the devil is waiting for him.
"I don't know what to do here," says the devil. "You are on my list, but I have no room for you. You definitely have to stay here, so I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I've got a couple folks here who weren't quite as bad as you. I'll let one of them go, but you have to take their place. I'll even let you decide who leaves."
Clinton thought that sounded pretty good, so the devil opened the first room. In it was Ted Kennedy and a large pool of water. He kept diving in and surfacing empty handed. Over and over and over. Such was his fate in Hell.
"No," Bill said. "I don't think so. I'm not a good swimmer and I don't think I could do that all day long."
So the devil led him to the next room. In it was Newt Gingrich with a sledgehammer and a room full of rocks. All he did was swing that hammer, time after time after time. "No, I've got this problem with my shoulder. I would be in constant agony if all I could do was break rocks all day," commented Bill.
The devil opened a third door. In it, Clinton saw Jesse Jackson lying on the floor with his arms staked over his head, and his legs staked in a spread eagle pose. Bent over him was Monica Lewinsky, doing what she does best. Clinton took this in in disbelief and finally said, "Yeah, I can handle this."
The devil smiled and said "OK, Monica, you're free to go!"