A blonde is speaking to her psychiatrist: “I’m on the road a lot, and my
clients are complaining that they can never reach me.”
Psychiatrist: “Don’t you have a phone in your car?” Blonde: “That was a little
too expensive, so I did the next best thing. I put a mailbox in my car.”
Psychiatrist: “Uh … How’s that working?” Blonde: “Actually, I haven’t gotten
any letters yet.”
Psychiatrist: “And why do you think that is?”
Blonde: “I figure it’s because when I’m driving around, my zip code keeps
changing.”