A wealthy and very well-dressed financial consultant arrives to fill out his report for the company he works for.



The dapper, extremely confident and very dignified gentleman leaves his Porsche with the parking attendant and enters wearing the building wearing his designer business suit. His shoes click along the polished floor as he heads for the elevator.



He picks up the paperwork, struts into his well-furnished office, puts down his fifteen hundred dollar briefcase and sits down at his desk. He stares at the questions for five minutes, and shakes his head in disbelief. He looks again, and his shoulders drop. Then with a sigh of embarrassment, he unties and pulls his feet out of his highly polished $800 Brooks Brothers dress shoes and then peels off his silk socks.



The now barefoot consultant then stuffs the socks in the shiny, expensive shoes and drops them in the garbage can.



A few minutes later, he shakes his head, slowly unties his $150 Hermes silk necktie, unfastens his monogrammed gold cufflinks, and slides his Rolex off his wrist. He throws them in to the garbage as well. His silver tiepin and his paisley braces follow.



A moment later, the consultant drops his head into his hands and groans. No longer confident and dignified, he looks around furtively.



Then he angrily shrugs and stands up. He strips off his $2,000 navy blue pinstriped Armani business suit, and his starched white shirt, folds them up and stuffs them in the garbage.



The consultant finally sits down and finishes his work.



A colleague comes in, looks around, sees the stripped consultant and his expensive clothes piled in the garbage and is stunned. “Why did you do this?” he asks in bewilderment.



The formerly well-dressed and impeccably groomed consultant angrily and wearily picks up the paperwork.



“Why didn’t you warn me about this? It says right here: ALL questions MUST be answered in brief!”

American consultant was at a pier in a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellow-fin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.



The Mexican replied only a little while.



The consultant then asked why didn't he stay out longer and catch more fish?



The fisherman said he had enough to support his family's immediate needs.



The American then asked the Mexican how he spent the rest of his time.



The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, senor."



The American consultant scoffed, "I am business consultant and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and, with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats, eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution.



"You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding enterprise."



The Mexican fisherman asked, "But senor, how long will this all take?"



To which the American consultant replied, "15-20 years."



"But what then, senor?" asked the fisherman.



The consultant laughed, and said, "That's the best part! When the time is right, you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public. You'll become very rich, you would make millions!"



"Millions, senor?" replied the Mexican. "Then what?"



The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."

the definition of a consultant is someone who borrows your watch and then proceeds to tell you the time!!!

Q. Why is a consultant so called?



A. Because he first cons and then insults you.

A consultant died and went to heaven. There were thousands of people ahead of him in line to see St. Peter. To his surprise, St. Peter left his desk at the gate and came down the long line to where the consultant was, and greeted him warmly. St. Peter took the consultant up to the front of the line, and into a comfortable chair by his desk.



The consultant said, "I like all this attention, but what makes me so special?"



St. Peter replied, "Well, I've added up all the hours for which you billed your clients, and by my calculation you're 193 years old!"

A shepherd was tending his flock in a remote pasture when suddenly a dust cloud approached at high speed, out of which emerged a shiny silver BMW. The driver, a young man in an Armani suit, Ferragamo shoes, the latest Polarized sunglasses and a tightly knotted power tie, poked his head out the window and asked the shepherd, "Hey! If I can tell you how many sheep you have in your flock, will you give me one?"



The shepherd looked at the man, then glanced at his peacefully grazing flock and answered, "Sure."



The driver parked his car, plugged his microscopic cell phone into a laptop and briskly surfed to a GPS satellite navigation system on the Internet and initiated a remote body-heat scan of the area. While the computer was occupied, he sent some e-mail via his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, nodded solemnly at the responses. Finally, he printed a 150 page report on the little laser printer in his glove compartment, turned to the shepherd, waving the sheaves of paper, and pronounced “You have exactly 1,586 sheep."



"Impressive. One of my sheep is yours." said the shepherd.



He watched the young man select an animal and bundle it into his car. Then the shepherd said: "If I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my sheep?"



Pleased to meet a fellow sportsman, the young man replied “You’re on.”



"You are a consultant." said the shepherd without hesitation.



"That's correct," said the young man, impressed. "How ever did you guess?"



"It wasn’t a guess," replied the shepherd. "You drive into my field uninvited. You ask me to pay you for information I already know, answer questions I haven’t asked, and you know nothing about my business. Now give me my back my dog."