One -- but it takes him nine years.
Five -- One to screw in the bulb and four to yank the ladder out from under him.
Two -- One to screw in the wrong-sized bulb and one to replace the burned-out socket.
That's not funny!
That's *women*, and that's not funny either.
Seven -- One to install the new bulb, and six to figure out what to do with the old one for the next ten thousand years.
Ten -- One to hold the bulb, nine to rotate the ladder.
None of your damn business.
Three -- One to change the bulb, one to be a witness, and the third to shoot the witness.
Four -- One to screw in the bulb and three to share the experience.
Six -- One to screw in the bulb, and five more to chase off the Californians who have come up to share the experience.
WASPs (or Yuppies)
Two -- One to mix the drinks and one to call the electrician.
One -- To sit and pray for the old one to go back on.
Three -- One to call the cleaning woman and two to feel guilty about calling the cleaning woman.
Two -- One to pour the Tab, and one to call Daddy.
None -- No, it's okay, I'll sit in the dark.
Two -- One to screw in the bulb and one not to screw in the bulb.
Fifteen -- You got a problem with that?
Only one, but the bulb really has to want to change.
None. The old light bulb contains the seeds of its own revolution.
Both of them.
Two -- One to hold the giraffe, and the other to fill the bathtub with brightly colored bicycles.
How many can you afford?
Just one. He holds the bulb and the universe revolves around him.
Six -- One to screw in the bulb, and five to testify that it as lit from the moment they began screwing.
Four -- One to screw it in and three to write about the old one.
One to spot the burned-out bulb, his supervisor to authorize a requisition, a requisition typist, three clerks to file requisition copies, a mail clerk to deliver the requisition to the perchasing department, a purchasing agent to order the bulb, a clerk to forward the purchasing order, a receiving clerk to receive the bulb.