A man gets home, screeches his car into the driveway, runs into the house, slams the door and shouts at the top of his lungs, "Honey, pack your bags. I won the damn lottery!"

The wife says, "Oh my god! No shit?! What should I pack, beach stuff or mountain stuff?"

The husband yells back, "It doesn't matter. Just get the hell out!"

When I die, I want to go peacefully like my Grandfather did, in his sleep - not screaming, like the passengers in his car.

How can you tell when a lawyer is about to lie?

His lips start moving.