February 02, 2016

Bel-low (sung by the Minotaur)

Everyone was so excited when Adele's song Hello came out. Personally, I thought my ears would bleed. She has a good voice, but tends to BELLOW just a little too much for my taste. Therefore, I present a cover of her song:

Bel-low (sung by the Minotaur) ------------------------------

BEL-LOW, it's me
I was wondering if after all these years you'd come to Crete
You know that you are beaten
They say this time's supposed to kill ya
But I ain't done much eatin'

BEL-LOW, can you hear me
I'm in the Labyrinth dreaming about who I used to eat
When you were human and free
I've almost forgotten how people are simply tasty meat

There'll be a big wall around us
And rhw Aegean Sea

BEL-LOW from the other side
I must have killed a thousand times
I'd tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done
But you die when you come inside my home

BEL-LOW from the outside
At least I can say that you've died
I'd tell you I'm sorry for eating your heart
But it won't matter because I won't tear you apart anymore

BEL-LOW, how are you?
It's so typical of me to try and kill you I'm sorry
I hope that you're well
You'll never make it out of this place where no one ever survives


It's no secret that the just you alone
Are running out of time

So BEL-LOW from the other side
I must have killed a thousand times
I'd tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done
But you die when you come inside my home

So BEL-LOW from the other side
I must have killed a thousand times
I'd tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done
But you die when you come inside my home

Ooooohh, inside my home
Ooooohh, inside my home
Ooooohh, inside my home
Inside my home

So BEL-LOW from the other side
I must have killed a thousand times
I'd tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done
But you die when you come inside my home

So BEL-LOW from the outside
At least I can say that you've died
I'd tell you I'm sorry for eating your heart
But it won't matter because I won't tear you apart anymore

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April 25, 2013

Thought for the day

From my friend Caltech Girl comes the following:

pooh piglet today.jpg

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December 10, 2012

What if Santa answered his letters truthfully?

All repeats, all the time!
=========================================

Deer Santa,
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur fer Xmas. Iv ben a gud
boy all yeer.
Yer Frend,
BiLLy

Dear Billy,
Nice spelling. You're on your way to a career in lawn care.
How about I send you a fucking book so you can learn to read and
write? I'm giving your older brother the space ranger. At least HE
can spell!
Santa

Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is
peace and joy in the world for everybody!
Love,
Sarah

Dear Sarah,
You're parents smoked pot when they had you, didn't they?
Santa


Dear Santa,
I don't know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I'd like for my
mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do.
Love,
Teddy

Dear Teddy,
Look, your dad's banging the babysitter like a screen door in a
hurricane. Do you think he's gonna give that up to come back to your
frigid mom, who rides his ass constantly? It's time to give up that
dream. Let me get you some nice Legos instead.
Santa


Dear Santa,
I want a new bike, a Playstation, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a
drum kit, a pony and a tuba.
Love,
Damien

Dear Damien,
Who names their kid "Damien" nowadays? I bet you're gay.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots
for your reindeer outside the back door.
Love,
Susan

Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the runs and carrots make the deer fart in my face
when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Leave me a bottle
of scotch.
Santa

Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy
making toys?
Your friend,
Thomas

Dear Thomas,
All the toys are made in China. I have a condo in Vegas, where I
spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind
by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses
while losing money at the craps table. Hey,you wanted to know.
Santa

Dear Santa,
Do you see us when we're sleeping, do you really know when we're
awake, like in the song?
Love,
Jessica

Dear Jessica,
Are you really that gullible? Good luck in whatever you do. I'm
skipping your house.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I really really want a puppy this year. Please please please PLEASE
PLEASE could I have one?
Timmy

Timmy,
That whiney begging shit may work with your folks, but that crap
doesn't work with me. You're getting a sweater again.
Santa

Dearest Santa,
We don't have a chimney in our house, how do you get into our house?
Love,
Joey

Joe,
First, stop calling yourself "Joey", that's why you're getting your
ass whipped at school. Second, you don't live in a house, you live in a
low-rent apartment complex. Third, I get inside your pad just like
all the burglars do, through your bedroom window.
Sweet Dreams,
Santa

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A heart-warming Christmas post (repost)

My Christmas Story

Late last week, I was rushing around trying to get some last minute shopping
done. I was stressed out and not thinking very fondly of the Christmas
season right then. It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking lot as I was
loading my car up with gifts that I felt obligated to buy. I noticed that I
was missing a receipt that I might need later. So mumbling under my breath,
I retraced my steps to the mall entrance.

As I was searching the wet pavement for the lost receipt, I heard a quiet
sobbing. The crying was coming from a poorly dressed boy of about 12 years
old. He was short and thin. He had no coat. He was just wearing a ragged
flannel shirt to protect him from the cold night's chill. Oddly enough, he
was holding a hundred dollar bill in his hand. Thinking that he had gotten
lost from his parents, I asked him what was wrong.

He told me his sad story. He said that he came from a large family. He had
three brothers and two sisters. His father had died when he was nine years
old. His mother was poorly educated and worked two full time jobs. She made
very little to support her large family. Nevertheless, she had managed to
save two hundred dollars to buy her children Christmas presents. The young
boy had been dropped off on the way to her second job. He was to use the
money to buy presents for all his siblings and save just enough to take
the bus home.

He had not even entered the mall, when an older boy grabbed one of the
hundred dollar bills and disappeared into the night.

"Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked. The boy said, "I did." "And
nobody came to help you?" I wondered. The boy stared at the sidewalk and
sadly shook his head. "How loud did you scream?" I inquired. The soft-spoken
boy looked up and meekly whispered, "Help me!"

I realized that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry
forhelp.

So, I grabbed his other hundred and ran to my car.

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December 04, 2012

Obama voters call the help desk

A clue they could not find, not even if one bit them in the ass.

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October 27, 2012

Political action (repost)

Actually, I originally posted this about feeling stressed at work. In any event, it seems awfully appropriate during this heated election cycle.
===============================================

How to handle political conflicts.

fight.gif

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A socialist Halloween (repost)

dem halloween.jpg

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September 25, 2012

Honest movie trailer

Well, this makes me want to see it again.

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July 14, 2012

I should feel bad about posting a link to this

But I don't. Sue me. Excerpt:

I hope that at least made a hilarious sound. How's the gerbil doing? A little disoriented and scared.

Well that should wear off after three or four years.

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December 22, 2011

A heart-warming Christmas story (repost)

My Christmas Story

Late last week, I was rushing around trying to get some last minute shopping
done. I was stressed out and not thinking very fondly of the Christmas
season right then. It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking lot as I was
loading my car up with gifts that I felt obligated to buy. I noticed that I
was missing a receipt that I might need later. So mumbling under my breath,
I retraced my steps to the mall entrance.

As I was searching the wet pavement for the lost receipt, I heard a quiet
sobbing. The crying was coming from a poorly dressed boy of about 12 years
old. He was short and thin. He had no coat. He was just wearing a ragged
flannel shirt to protect him from the cold night's chill. Oddly enough, he
was holding a hundred dollar bill in his hand. Thinking that he had gotten
lost from his parents, I asked him what was wrong.

He told me his sad story. He said that he came from a large family. He had
three brothers and two sisters. His father had died when he was nine years
old. His mother was poorly educated and worked two full time jobs. She made
very little to support her large family. Nevertheless, she had managed to
save two hundred dollars to buy her children Christmas presents. The young
boy had been dropped off on the way to her second job. He was to use the
money to buy presents for all his siblings and save just enough to take
the bus home.

He had not even entered the mall, when an older boy grabbed one of the
hundred dollar bills and disappeared into the night.

"Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked. The boy said, "I did." "And
nobody came to help you?" I wondered. The boy stared at the sidewalk and
sadly shook his head. "How loud did you scream?" I inquired. The soft-spoken
boy looked up and meekly whispered, "Help me!"

I realized that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry
forhelp.

So, I grabbed his other hundred and ran to my car.

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August 18, 2011

Word

Harvey is onto something here.

And please, Lord, make people stop saying #10.

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January 05, 2011

A beer lover's diet

Are you doing the "Beer-Me" Diet plan year 'round to lose weight?

What do you mean, you aren't familiar with that particular diet? Look no further than below...
========================================
The "Beer-Me" Diet

It seems that a lot of people are dieting recently, trying everything from an all-carbohydrate to an all-protein mix. I have another suggestion, one that has worked through the ages: the "Beer-Me" diet. Personally, I have a "liquid dinner" every time I go to the club on Friday night!

  • Fact: A lite beer has between 70 and 100 calories, is almost all water, and the part that isn't water is almost pure carbohydrates.
  • Fact: The average diet recommends a daily caloric intake of 1,200 calories for women, 1,500 for men, if you want to lose the medically safe two to three pounds a week. On the "Beer-Me" diet, that equates to at least 12 beverages a day for women, and 15 for men. A measurable goal.
  • Fact: The alcohol in beer is a diuretic, which causes the water to flush out almost immediately, leading to a consistent workout regimen including deep knee bends (getting out of the chair), fast walking (very good for your heart) and squats (as the case may be).
  • Fact: Drinking beer actually helps you sleep-even when you aren't necessarily tired. All that added rest is certain to help any problems you may have experienced in sleep deprivation, counting calories on those other fad diets. In addition, you may experience the occasional "How did I get here?" when you wake up, which always makes for lively conversation, and possibly additional exercise if you have to sneak out and run home.
  • Fact: The "Beer-Me" diet is good for your heart. After just one day of consuming your required 12-15 beers, you will certainly want to consume some aspirin, which is medically proven to help prevent heart attacks.
  • Fact: On the "Beer-Me" diet you can eat anything you want. The only rule is that you cannot consume any food until you have consumed at least half of the day's required beers. This way the food will probably only stay in your body a short time, until you again exercise the deep knee bends, quick walk and, this time, the "lean-over-and-hurl" stomach crunches.
  • Fact: Beer drinking is often done in bars, where other forms of exercise are common. Dancing, for example, is a good way to build up a thirst, as is chasing members of the opposite sex. If you really want to maximize your workout, try actually walking up to the bar, versus using a waitress. To take this to the extreme, you could even get up and get someone else a beer-perhaps someone who is newer to the diet plan than yourself.
  • Fact: Beer is cheaper than Jenny Craig.

Based on these facts, let's run through a given scenario for diet implementation.

Caution: This is a weekend diet plan, and should be attempted during the work week by only the staunchest of dieters.

  • Monday through Thursday: Eat junk food, and basically be a slob.
  • Friday: Feeling "huge," swing by the liquor store and stock up. Go to favorite place of beer drinking and begin the consumption process (remember 12 for women, 15 for men).
  • Saturday: Wake up (as required) and lounge around all day, feeling slightly smaller after expunging any food that you may have accidentally consumed (particularly if it involved beef jerky from the 7 Eleven). Take aspirin. Notice that you have absolutely no interest in food, anyway.
  • Saturday (p.m.): Restart cycle, noticing that your appetite has still not returned. Perhaps only meet half of your consumption goal due to an ongoing discussion with "the dog t 364 hat bit you." This is a good thing, as only half-consumption means less than 1,000 calories for the day, and you still don't feel hungry.
  • Sunday (a.m.): Wake up for mandatory sports day. This is a very convenient diet during football season, but it can be successfully implemented year-round. There is some major professional sport being played every day of the year except the day before and the day after the Major League All-Star game (fact-look it up). Consumption on this day should be paced to cover the entire day-you don't want to peak too soon. Again you notice a lack of appetite, and are feeling thinner all the time. Don't forget the aspirin.
  • Monday: Return to work, feeling thinner, well rested, and surprisingly mellow. Mark your log book, and begin preparation for the upcoming weekend.

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December 18, 2010

What if Santa answered his letters truthfully?

All repeats, all the time!
=========================================

Deer Santa,
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur fer Xmas. Iv ben a gud
boy all yeer.
Yer Frend,
BiLLy

Dear Billy,
Nice spelling. You're on your way to a career in lawn care.
How about I send you a fucking book so you can learn to read and
write? I'm giving your older brother the space ranger. At least HE
can spell!
Santa

Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is
peace and joy in the world for everybody!
Love,
Sarah

Dear Sarah,
You're parents smoked pot when they had you, didn't they?
Santa


Dear Santa,
I don't know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I'd like for my
mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do.
Love,
Teddy

Dear Teddy,
Look, your dad's banging the babysitter like a screen door in a
hurricane. Do you think he's gonna give that up to come back to your
frigid mom, who rides his ass constantly? It's time to give up that
dream. Let me get you some nice Legos instead.
Santa


Dear Santa,
I want a new bike, a Playstation, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a
drum kit, a pony and a tuba.
Love,
Damien

Dear Damien,
Who names their kid "Damien" nowadays? I bet you're gay.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots
for your reindeer outside the back door.
Love,
Susan

Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the runs and carrots make the deer fart in my face
when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Leave me a bottle
of scotch.
Santa

Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy
making toys?
Your friend,
Thomas

Dear Thomas,
All the toys are made in China. I have a condo in Vegas, where I
spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind
by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses
while losing money at the craps table. Hey,you wanted to know.
Santa

Dear Santa,
Do you see us when we're sleeping, do you really know when we're
awake, like in the song?
Love,
Jessica

Dear Jessica,
Are you really that gullible? Good luck in whatever you do. I'm
skipping your house.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I really really want a puppy this year. Please please please PLEASE
PLEASE could I have one?
Timmy

Timmy,
That whiney begging shit may work with your folks, but that crap
doesn't work with me. You're getting a sweater again.
Santa

Dearest Santa,
We don't have a chimney in our house, how do you get into our house?
Love,
Joey

Joe,
First, stop calling yourself "Joey", that's why you're getting your
ass whipped at school. Second, you don't live in a house, you live in a
low-rent apartment complex. Third, I get inside your pad just like
all the burglars do, through your bedroom window.
Sweet Dreams,
Santa

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November 30, 2010

Still at it

Truthfully, I'm never certain how to categorize Ms. Catalano, but she usually makes me laugh. Have at it.

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Repost: night before Christmas parody?

I posted this last year and got no takers. Perhaps someone can help me out of my misery this year. I believe that I heard it on the John Boy and Billy Bob (or whatever they're called) while Christmas shopping.
========================================

To any and all who read this: last weekend while out and about, I heard a bit on the radio which I supposed could be called "The Shatner Before Christmas". Actually, I don't know what it was named, I'm just guessing. Anyway, it was a comedian spoofing Shatner's inimitable delivery doing a Star Trek: TOS version of The Night Before Christmas. I've searched around the Intertubes and haven't been able to find the audio yet in any format. Here are some particulars of the bit:

  • "Kirk" does the whole narration, mentioningg Uhura, Spock and Bones by name
  • Klingon C(K?)laus makes an appearance
  • Kirk's gift is "a girdle with a message that said 'Just your size'"
  • Kirk then blows Klingon Claus to smithereens with photon torpedoes

No, I can't remember which radio station I was listening to, as I was busy trying to avoid commercials. If I knew which station it was, I could call the station and ask. Anyway, has anyone else heard this? More to the point, does anyone know what it's actually called and where I can find it?

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October 31, 2010

Wanna see something really scary?

Halloween images: some funny, some sick, most both. Some most definitely not safe for work, so be careful before you click.

Penis Man

Vagina man

Priestly fun

Sweet thing

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Halloween humor?

I still get a great kick out this video:

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Halloween images (repost)

Updated for this election season.
===============================================

drunk pumpkin.jpg

Don't overindulge this Halloween.

ghosts.jpg

"Uh, good evening Mr. Reynolds. Trick or treat?"

HALLOWEEN2000.jpg

Self-hating dogs for Glenn.

HALLOWEEN FLASHERS.jpg

Newly registered Democrat voters in Ohio display their support for Obama.

halloween_1.jpg

The future of Happy Meals if Glenn Reynolds has his way.

halloweencat.jpg

"Who's your daddy now, beeyatch?"

HappyHalloween.jpg

No Halloween would be complete without a visit from our special friend, Seymour Butz.

pic00153.jpg

And the Puppy Blender's sphere of influence continues to grow.

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October 28, 2010

BBQ RULES

BBQ RULES

We are about to leave the BBQ season. Therefore it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this sublime outdoor cooking activity.
When a man volunteers to do the BBQ the following chain of events are put into motion:

RoutineÖ
(1) The woman buys the food.
(2) The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes dessert .
(3) The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill - beer in hand.
(4) The woman remains outside the compulsory three meter exclusion zone where the exuberance of testosterone and other manly bonding activities can take place without the interference of the woman.

Here comes the important part:

(5) THE MAN PLACES THE MEAT ON THE GRILL.

More routineÖ
(6) The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery.
(7) The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is looking great. He thanks her and asks if she will bring another beer while he flips the meat.

Important again:
(8) THE MAN TAKES THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL AND HANDS IT TO THE WOMAN.

More routineÖ
(9) The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces, and brings them to the table.
(10) After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.

And most important of all:
(11) Everyone PRAISES the MAN and THANKS HIM for his cooking efforts.
(12) The man asks the woman how she enjoyed ďher night off.Ē And, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that thereís just no pleasing some women.

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May 14, 2010

Required reading

It's Iowahawk, of course. Hie thee hence.

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May 11, 2010

Quote of the week

From an article at Cracked:

As a child, George Lucas was a big fan of the sci-fi and adventure serials of the 30s. As an unknown director, he tried to get the rights to remake Flash Gordon into a sci-fi epic. The problem being that those rights were owned by King Features... the same people who said "no" to the game that would become Donkey Kong. You probably see where this is going.

In an interview contained in The Making of Star Wars, Lucas recalls that when he met with King Features to discuss Flash Gordon, they were asking for 80 percent of the profits, Federico Fellini as the director and probably a magical unicorn that granted wishes by giving blowjobs.

Smiling and laughing still hurt right now, so I'm in a fair amount of pain right now. But darn, it was worth it.

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April 22, 2010

I can see November from my house!



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April 21, 2010

How fights start

Received via email:
========================================
My wife sat down on the settee next to me as I was flipping channels. She asked, 'What's on TV?'

I said, 'Dust.'

And then the fight started...
************ ********* ********* ********* ***
My wife and I were watching "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire" while we were in bed.

I turned to her and said, "Do you want to have sex?"

"No," she answered.

I then said, "Is that your final answer?"

She didn't even look at me this time, simply saying, "Yes."

So I said, "Then I'd like to phone a friend."

And then the fight started....
************ ********* ********* ********* ***
Saturday morning I got up early, quietly dressed, made my lunch, and slipped quietly into the garage. I hooked up the boat up to the van, and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour. The wind was blowing 50 mph, so I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad all day. I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed. I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a different anticipation, and whispered, "The weather out there is terrible."

My loving wife of 5 years replied, "Can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that?"

And that's how the fight started...

************ ********* ********* ********* ***
I rear-ended a car this morning. So, there we were alongside the road and slowly the other driver got out of his car. You know how sometimes you just get soooo stressed and little things just seem funny? Yeah, well I couldn't believe it.... He was a DWARF!!! He stormed over to my car, looked up at me, and shouted, "I AM NOT HAPPY!!!"

So, I looked down at him and said, "Well, then which one are you?"

And then the fight started.....
************ ********* ********* ********* **
My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary.

She said, 'I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 150 in about 3 seconds.'

I bought her a bathroom scale.

And then the fight started...
************ ********* ********* ********* ***
When I got home last night, my wife demanded that I take her some place expensive... so, I took her to a gas station.

And then the fight started...
************ ********* ********* ********* ***
After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply for Social Security. The woman behind the counter asked me for my driver's License to verify my age. I looked in my pockets and realized I had left my wallet at home. I told the woman that I was very sorry, but I would have to go home and come back later.

The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt'. So I opened my shirt revealing my curly silver hair. She said, 'That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me' and she processed my Social Security application.

When I got home, I excitedly told my wife about my experience at the Social Security office.

She said, 'You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten disability, too.'

And then the fight started...

************ ********* ********* ********* ***
My wife and I were sitting at a table at my school reunion, and I kept staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.

My wife asked, 'Do you know her?'

'Yes,' I sighed, 'She's my old girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear she hasn't been sober since.'

'My God!' says my wife, 'who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?'

And then the fight started...
************ ********* ********* ********* ***
I took my wife to a restaurant. The waiter, for some reason took my order first. "I'll have the steak, medium rare, please."

He said, "Aren't you worried about the mad cow?""

Nah, she can order for herself."

And then the fight started...
************ ********* ********* ********* ***
A woman was standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror. She was not happy with what she saw and said to her husband, "I feel horrible; I look old, fat and ugly. I really need you to pay me a compliment.'

The husband replied, 'Your eyesight's damn near perfect.'

And then the fight started.....

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April 13, 2010

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful (repost)

I'm a little busier than usual, so it's back to the humor archives. Again.
==============================================

Found the image below via the lovely and talented Rachel Lucas. I sent it to every woman I know. They are all somewhat less fond of me today.


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April 01, 2010

S P E C I A L    A N N O U N C E M E N T

Internet Cleaning
DO NOT CONNECT TO THE INTERNET FROM MARCH 31st 23:59 pm (GMT) UNTIL 12:01am (GMT) APRIL 2nd.

*** Attention ***

It's that time again! As many of you know, each year the Internet must be shut down for 24 hours in order to allow us to clean it. The cleaning process, which eliminates dead e-mail and inactive ftp, www, and gopher sites, allows for a better working and faster Internet.

This year, the cleaning process will take place from 23:59 pm (GMT) on March 31st until 00:01 am (GMT) on April 2nd. During that 24-hour period, five powerful Internet-crawling robots situated around the world will search the Internet and delete any data that they find.

In order to protect your valuable data from deletion we ask that you do the following:

1. Disconnect all terminals and local area networks from their Internet connections.

2. Shut down all Internet servers, or disconnect them from the Internet.

3. Disconnect all disks and hardrives from any connections to the Internet.

4. Refrain from connecting any computer to the Internet in any way.

We understand the inconvenience that this may cause some Internet users, and we apologize. However, we are certain that any inconveniences will be more than made up for by the increased speed and efficiency of the Internet, once it has been cleared of electronic flotsam and jetsam.

We thank you for your cooperation.

Fu Ling Yu

Interconnected Network Maintenance Staff Main Branch,
Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Sysops and others: Since the last Internet cleaning, the number of Internet users has grown dramatically. Please assist us in alerting the public of the upcoming Internet cleaning by posting this message where your users will be able to read it.

Please pass this message on to other sysops and Internet users as well.

Thank you.

Update: Click on extended entry for more information.

The clean up is known as Allied Protection Review Internet Loss For Overseas Outsourced Linked Services.

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March 15, 2010

Quote of the day

And it's from Iowahawk, of course:

"If we Democrats have any hopes to survive past November, I say we ditch this brain-damaged bitch and replace her with someone who isn't radioactive political poison outside the Castro district -- say, for example, highly respected House Majority Leader Steny Hoyer," said a Capitol Hill legislative insider from Maryland.

"The Speaker may not realize it, but some of us actually have to campaign for re-election," said the source. "Unlike Nancy, we didn't win the jackpot and get a safe district full of 1960s acid casualties, gay Marxist academics, government union goons, and guilt-ridden software billionaires."

He needs to be syndicated. Last week.

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March 09, 2010

A good chain email (repost)

Anyone that knows me personally can attest to the fact that I hate chain emails. My family and friends know better than to send such drivel. Should I actually receive any such garbage, I do the following: if the email is funny, interesting, or just plain twisted, I gladly forward it to people(blind copied, of course), removing all of the "please forward to 10 people so that blah blah blah". Most times I just delete it. However, I finally received one that's worthy of publishing. It's rude, crude and socially unacceptable, just like me. If you're easily offended, skip the rest of this post and go over to a kinder, gentler site like the Emperor's.

===========================================================

Please read this before you delete this... if you're tired of internet chain letters, you'll get a kick out of this!

FINALLY A CHAIN LETTER THAT I LIKE! :)

Hello, my name is Basmati Kasaar. I am suffering from rare and deadly diseases, poor scores on final exams, extreme virginity, fear of being kidnapped and executed by anal electrocution, and guilt for not Forwarding out 50 billion fucking chain letters sent to me by people who actually believe that if you send them on, then that poor 6 year old girl in Arkansas with a breast on her forehead will be able to raise enough money to have it removed before her redneck parents sell her off to the traveling freak show. Do you honestly believe that Bill Gates is going to give you and everyone you send "his" email to $1000? How stupid are you? Ooooh, looky here! If I scroll down this page and make a wish, I'll get laid by every Playboy model in the magazine! What a bunch of bullshit. So basically, this message is a big FUCK YOU to all the people out there who have nothing better to do than to send me stupid chain mail forwards. Maybe the evil chain letter leprechauns will come into my apartment and sodomize me in my sleep for not continuing the chain which was started by Jesus in 5 A.D. and was brought to this country by midget pilgrims on the Mayflower and if it makes it to the year 2010, it'll be in the Guinness Book of World Records for longest continuous streak of blatant stupidity.

Fuck them.

If you're going to forward something, at least send me something mildly amusing. I've seen all the "send this to 50 of your closest friends, and this poor, wretched excuse for a human being will somehow receive a Nickel from some omniscient being" forwards about 90 times. I don't fucking care.

Show a little intelligence and think about what you're actually contributing to by sending out forwards. Chances are it's your own unpopularity.

THE FOUR BASIC TYPES OF CHAIN LETTERS:

Chain Letter Type 1:

(scroll down)






Make a wish!!!







No, really, go on and make one!!!






Oh please, they'll never go out with you!!!






Wish something else!!!






Not that, you pervert!!






Is your finger getting tired yet?






STOP!!!!






Wasn't that fun? :)

Hope you made a great wish :)

Now, to make you feel guilty, here's what I'll do. First of all, if you don't send this to 5096 people in the next 5 seconds, you will be raped by a mad goat and thrown off a high building into a pile of manure. It's true! Because, THIS letter isn't like those fake ones, THIS one is TRUE!!

Really!!! Here's how it goes:

*Send this to 1 person: One person will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter.

*Send this to 2-5 people: 2-5 people will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter.

*Send this to 5-10 people: 5-10 people will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter, and may form a plot on your life.

*Send this to 10-20 people: 10-20 people will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter and will napalm your house.

Thanks!!!! Good Luck!!!
-------------------------------------------------------
Chain Letter Type 2

Hello, and thank you for reading this letter. You see, there is a starving little boy in Baklaliviatatlaglooshen who has no arms, no legs, no parents, and no goats. This little boy's life could be saved, because for every time you pass this on, a dollar will be donated to the Little Starving Legless Armless Goatless Boy from Baklaliviatatlaglooshen Fund.

Oh, and remember, we have absolutely no way of counting the emails sent and
this is all a complete load of bullshit. So go on, reach out. Send this to 5 people in the next 47 seconds. Oh, and a reminder - if you accidentally send this to 4 or 6 people, you will die instantly.

Thanks again!!
-------------------------------------------------------
Chain Letter Type 3

Hi there!! This chain letter has been in existence since 1897. This is absolutely incredible because there was no email then and probably not as many sad pricks with nothing better to do.

So this is how it works:

Pass this on to 15,067 people in the next 7 minutes or something horrible will happen to you like:

*Bizarre Horror Story #1

Miranda Pinsley was walking home from school on Saturday. She had recently
received this letter and ignored it. She then tripped in a crack in the sidewalk, fell into the sewer, was gushed down a drainpipe in a flood of poopie, and went flying out over a waterfall. Not only did she smell nasty, she died. This Could Happen To You!!!

*Bizarre Horror Story #2

Dexter Bip, a 13 year old boy, got a chain letter in his mail and ignored it. Later that day, he was hit by a car and so was his boyfriend (hey, some people swing that way). They both died and went to hell and were cursed to eat adorable kittens every day for eternity. This Could Happen To You Too!!! Remember, you could end up just like Pinsley and Bip. Just send this letter to all of your loser friends, and everything will be okay.
-------------------------------------------------------
Chain Letter Type 4

As if you care, here is a poem that I wrote. Send it to every one of your friends.

FRIENDS

A friend is someone who is always at your side, A friend is someone who likes you even though you stink of shit, and your breath smells like you've been eating catfood, A friend is someone who likes you even though you're as ugly as a hat full of assholes, A friend is someone who cleans up for you after you've soiled yourself, A friend is someone who stays with you all night while you cry about your sad, sad life, A friend is someone who pretends they like you when they really think you should be raped by mad goats, then thrown to vicious dogs, A friend is someone who scrubs your toilet, vacuums and then gets the check and leaves and doesn't speak much English...

* no, sorry that's the cleaning lady,

A friend is not someone who sends you chain letters because he wants his wish of being rich to come true.

Now pass this on! If you don't, you'll never have sex ever again.
--------------------------------------------------------
The point being?

If you get some chain letter that's threatening to leave you shagless or luckless for the rest of your life, delete it. If it's funny, send it on. Don't piss people off by making them feel guilty about a leper in Botswana with no teeth, who's been tied to a dead elephant for 27 years, whose only savior is the 5 cents per letter he'll receive if you forward this mail, otherwise you'll end up like Miranda.

Right?

Now forward this to everyone that you know otherwise you'll find all your knickers missing tomorrow morning.

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February 01, 2010

Priceless

Received via email:

INNOCENCE IS PRICELESS

One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed little Alex standing in the foyer of the church staring up at a large plaque. It was covered with names and small American flags mounted on either side of it. The six-year old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the pastor walked up, stood beside the little boy, and said quietly, 'Good morning Alex.' 'Good morning Pastor,' he replied, still focused on the plaque. 'Pastor, what is this? ' The pastor said, 'Well son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service.'

Soberly, they just stood together, staring at the large plaque. Finally, little Alex's voice, barely audible and trembling with fear asked,

innocenceispriceless.jpg

'Which service, the 8:45 or the 11:00?'

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Funny, but painful

Received via email:

A group of 40 years old buddies discuss and discuss where they should meet for dinner.

Finally it is agreed upon that they should meet at the Gausthof zum Lowen restaurant because the waitress's there have low cut blouses and nice breasts.

10 years later, at 50 years of age, the group meets again and once again they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Gausthof zum Lowen because the food there is very good and the wine selection is good also.

10 years later at 60 years of age, the group meets again and once again they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Gausthof zum Lowen because they can eat there in peace and quiet and the restaurant is smoke free.

10 years later, at 70 years of age, the group meets again and once again they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Gausthof zum Lowen because the restaurant is wheel chair accessible and they even have an elevator.

10 years later, at 80 years of age, the group meets again and once again they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Gausthof zum Lowen because that would be a great idea because they have never been there before.

No mention of Depends. I'm sure that it's just an oversight.

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January 28, 2010

Joke of the day

Pulled out of some old emails at home:

This guy walks into a quiet bar. He is carrying three ducks. One in each hand and one under his left arm. He places them on the bar. He has a few drinks and chats with the bartender. The bartender is experienced and has learned not to ask people about the animals that they bring into the bar, so he doesn't mention the ducks. They chat for about 30 minutes before the bloke with the ducks has to go to the rest room. The ducks are left on the Bar. The bartender is alone with the ducks. There is an awkward silence.

The bartender decides to try to make some conversation.

"What's your name?" He says to the first duck. "Huey" said the duck.

"How's your day been?"

"Great. Lovely day. Had a ball. Been in and out of puddles all day." "Oh. That's nice," says the Bartender.

Then he says to the second duck, "Hi. And what's your name?"

"Dewey" came the answer.

"So how's your day been?"

"Great. Lovely day. Had a ball. Been in and out of puddles all day. If I had the chance another day I would do the same again."

So the Bartender turns to the third duck and says, "So, you must be Louie"

"No", growls the 3rd duck, "My name is Puddles. And don't ask about my fucking day!"

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January 14, 2010

Economizing the federal governemtn

Received via email:



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January 06, 2010

If Dear Abby were a man

An oldie, but it still makes me laugh.
============================================


Q: My fiance still has feelings for his old girlfriends. I'm afraid he will not be faithful.

A: A man's capacity to love is boundless. It has been proven to increase with the number of sexual partners. Thus, by having a few other women, your partner is really increasing his love for you. Best thing to do is to buy him a nice, expensive present, cook him a nice meal and don't mention this aspect of his behavior.

Q: My husband has too many nights out with the boys.

A: This is perfectly natural behavior-And it should be encouraged. The man is a hunter and he needs to prove his prowess with other men. Far from being pleasurable, a night out with the boys is a stressful affair, and to get back to you is a relief for your partner. Just look back at how emotional and happy the man is when he returns to his stable home. Best thing to do is to buy him a nice, expensive present, cook him a nice meal and don't mention this aspect of his behavior.

Q: My husband wants to experience three-in-a-bed-sex with me and my sister.

A: Your husband is clearly devoted to you. He cannot get enough of you, so he goes for the next best thing - your sister. Far from being an issue, this will bring all of the family together. Why not get some cousins involved? If you are still apprehensive, then let him go with your relatives, buy him a nice, expensive present, cook him a nice meal and don't mention this aspect of his behavior.

Q: My husband continually asks me to perform oral sex with him.

A: Do it. Sperm is not only great tasting, but has only 10 calories a spoonful. It is nutritious and helps you to keep your figure and gives a great glow to the skin. Interestingly, a man knows this. His offer to you to perform oral sex with him is totally selfless. Oral sex is extremely painful for a man. This shows he loves you. Best thing to do is to thank him, buy him a nice, expensive present, and cook him a nice meal.

Q: My husband goes straight to sleep after making love - we have no time to talk.
A: Sex is an extremely difficult task for a man. Afterwards he needs rest. In fact, the more he loves you, the more hard work his lovemaking is, and the more rest he needs. Stop putting pressure on him. Best thing to do is to buy him a nice, expensive present, cook him a nice meal and don't mention this aspect of his behavior.

Q: My husband's efforts at lovemaking only last 30 seconds.

A: Your husband loves you very much. He is so turned on by you that he cannot control himself. In fact, the shorter the 'effort' the more he loves you. Return this love by buying a nice, expensive present, cooking him a nice meal and not mentioning his behavior.

Q: My husband is uninterested in foreplay.

A: Foreplay to a man is very hurtful. What it means is that you do not love your man as much as you should-he has to work a lot to get you in the mood. Abandon all wishes in this area, and make it up to him by buying a nice expensive present, cooking a nice meal and not mentioning this behavior.

Q: My husband has never given me an orgasm.

A: The female orgasm is a myth. It is fostered by militant, man-hating feminists and is a danger to the family unit. Don't mention it again to him and show your love to him by buying a nice expensive present ..and don't forget to cook him a delicious meal.

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January 04, 2010

Nothing is safe. Nothing.

All my childhood memories are now ash in the Rule 34 waste bin:

Rule34-1.png


On the other hand, Rule 5 still makes me quite happy. Here are some former female child stars who grew up quite nicely.

kirsten-dunst-maxim-photos-013.jpg

melissa-joan-hart-naked-pic.jpg

Soleil-Moon-Frye--38256.jpg

nikkki.jpg

DanicaMckellar.jpg

AlyssaMilano.jpg

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December 29, 2009

Product of the year

Courtesy of Neal Boortz comes this special product advertisement:

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December 21, 2009

What if Santa answered his letters truthfully? (repost)

All repeats, all the time!
=========================================

Deer Santa,
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur fer Xmas. Iv ben a gud
boy all yeer.
Yer Frend,
BiLLy

Dear Billy,
Nice spelling. You're on your way to a career in lawn care.
How about I send you a fucking book so you can learn to read and
write? I'm giving your older brother the space ranger. At least HE
can spell!
Santa

Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is
peace and joy in the world for everybody!
Love,
Sarah

Dear Sarah,
You're parents smoked pot when they had you, didn't they?
Santa


Dear Santa,
I don't know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I'd like for my
mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do.
Love,
Teddy

Dear Teddy,
Look, your dad's banging the babysitter like a screen door in a
hurricane. Do you think he's gonna give that up to come back to your
frigid mom, who rides his ass constantly? It's time to give up that
dream. Let me get you some nice Legos instead.
Santa


Dear Santa,
I want a new bike, a Playstation, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a
drum kit, a pony and a tuba.
Love,
Damien

Dear Damien,
Who names their kid "Damien" nowadays? I bet you're gay.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots
for your reindeer outside the back door.
Love,
Susan

Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the runs and carrots make the deer fart in my face
when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Leave me a bottle
of scotch.
Santa

Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy
making toys?
Your friend,
Thomas

Dear Thomas,
All the toys are made in China. I have a condo in Vegas, where I
spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind
by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses
while losing money at the craps table. Hey,you wanted to know.
Santa

Dear Santa,
Do you see us when we're sleeping, do you really know when we're
awake, like in the song?
Love,
Jessica

Dear Jessica,
Are you really that gullible? Good luck in whatever you do. I'm
skipping your house.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I really really want a puppy this year. Please please please PLEASE
PLEASE could I have one?
Timmy

Timmy,
That whiney begging shit may work with your folks, but that crap
doesn't work with me. You're getting a sweater again.
Santa

Dearest Santa,
We don't have a chimney in our house, how do you get into our house?
Love,
Joey

Joe,
First, stop calling yourself "Joey", that's why you're getting your
ass whipped at school. Second, you don't live in a house, you live in a
low-rent apartment complex. Third, I get inside your pad just like
all the burglars do, through your bedroom window.
Sweet Dreams,
Santa

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Twelve Days of Christmas (repost)

Not only did I post this last year, I've sent it out via email for more than 10 years. I promised you old and stale, and I've delivered ancient and decayed. No thanks are necessary.
===============================================

December 14, 1972

My dearest darling John:

Who ever in the whole world would dream of getting a real Partridge
in a Pear Tree? How can I ever express my pleasure. Thank you a
hundred times for thinking of me this way.

My love always,

Agnes
================================================

December 15, 1972

Dearest John:

Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine two
turtle doves. I'm just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They
are just adorable.

All my love,

Agnes
================================================

December 16, 1972

Dear John:

Oh! Aren't you the extravagant one. Now I must protest. I don't
deserve such generosity, three French hens. They are just darling
but I must insist, you've been too kind.


All my love,
Agnes
================================================

December 17, 1972

Dear John:

Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really, they are
beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough. You are being too
romantic.

Affectionately,

Agnes
================================================

December 18, 1972

Dearest John:

What a surprise. Today the postman delivered five golden rings, one for
every finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, all
those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves.

All my love,
Agnes
=================================================

December 19, 1972

Dear John:

When I opened the door today there were actually six geese laying on my
front steps. So you're back to the birds again huh? These geese are huge.
Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't
sleep through the racket. Please stop.


Cordially,
Agnes
================================================

December 20, 1972

John:

What's with you and those freaking birds?? Seven swans a swimming. What
kind of damn joke is this? There's bird poop all over the house and they
never stop the racket. I can't sleep at night and I'm a nervous wreck. It's
not funny. So stop those freaking birds.


Sincerely,
Agnes
================================================

December 21, 1972

O.K. Buster:

I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with 8
maids a milking? It's not enough with all those birds and 8 maids a
milking, but they had to bring their damn cows. There is manure all over the
lawn and I can't move in my own house. Just lay off me, smartass.

Agnes
================================================

December 22, 1972

Hey Shithead:

What are you.....some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers
playing. And Christ do they play. They've never stopped chasing
those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are
getting upset and they're stepping all over those screeching birds.
What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict
me.


You'll get yours !
Agnes
================================================

December 23, 1972

You rotten prick:

Now there's ten ladies dancing. I don't know why I call those sluts
ladies. They've been balling those pipers all night long. Now the
cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river
of shit. The Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause
why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm calling the police on you !


Agnes
================================================

December 24, 1972

Listen F--khead:

What's with those eleven lords a leaping on those maid and ladies?
Some of those broads will never walk again. Those pipers ran through the
maids and have been committing sodomy with the cows. All twenty-three
of the birds are dead. They've been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope
you're satisfied, you rotten vicious swine.

You're sworn enemy,
Agnes
================================================

December 25, 1972

Dear Sir:

This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling
which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes
McHolstein. The destruction, of course, was total. All
correspondence should come to our attention. If you should
attempt to reach Miss McHolstein at Happy Dale Sanitarium,
the attendants have been instructed to shoot you on sight.

With this letter please find attached a warrant for your arrest.

Cordially,

Law Offices of Badger, Bender and Chole

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Diary of a snow shoveller

In honor of the first snowfall in the Richmond area this year, I give you the following re-post:
========================================

 Snow... Snow... Snow... Snow...
     *    *          *     * *  *   *   *   *   *  * *  *
  * *  * *  *     * * *  *  *  *  *    *   * * *  *
     *     *   *       *     *      *   *    *     *        *
  Diary of a Snow Shoveler

December 8: 6:00 PM. It started to snow. The first snow of the season
and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window
watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven. It looked like
a Grandma Moses Print. So romantic we felt like newlyweds again. I
love snow!

December 9: We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow
covering every inch of the landscape. What a fantastic sight! Can there
be a more lovely place in the Whole World? Moving here was the best
idea I've ever had. Shoveled for the first time in years and felt like a
boy again. I did both our driveway and the sidewalks. This afternoon the
snowplow came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the
driveway, so I got to shovel again. What a perfect life.

December 12: The sun has melted all our lovely snow. Such a
disappointment. My neighbor tells me not to worry, we'll definitely
have a white Christmas. No snow on Christmas would be awful! Bob says
we'll have so much snow by the end of winter, that I'll never want to see
snow again. l don't think that's possible. Bob is such a nice man I'm glad
he's our neighbor.

December 14: Snow lovely snow! 8" last night. The temperature
dropped to -20. The cold makes everything sparkle so. The wind took my
breath away, but I warmed up by shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. This is
the life! The snowplow came back this afternoon and buried everything
again. l didn't realize I would have to do quite this much shoveling,
but I'll certainly get back in shape this way. I wish l wouldn't huff and puff so.

December 15: 20 inches forecast. Sold my van and bought a 4x4
Blazer. Bought snow tires for the wife's car and 2 extra shovels. Stocked the
freezer. The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out.
I think that's silly. We aren't in Alaska, after all.

December 16: Ice storm this morning. Fell on my ass on the ice in the
driveway putting down salt. Hurt like hell. The wife laughed for an
hour. Which I think was very cruel.

December 17: Still way below freezing. Roads are too icy to go
anywhere. Electricity was off for 5 hours. I had to pile the blankets
on to stay warm. Nothing to do but stare at the wife and try not to
irritate her. Guess I should've bought a wood stove, but won't admit
it to her. God I hate it when she's right. I can't believe I'm freezing
to death in my own living room.

December 20: Electricity's back on, but had another 14" of the damn
stuff last night. More shoveling. Took all day. Goddamn snowplow came
by twice. Tried to find a neighbor kid to shovel, but they said they're
too busy playing hockey. I think they're lying. Called the only
hardware store around to see about buying a snow blower and they're
out. Might have another shipment in March. I think they're lying. Bob
says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me. I think he's lying.

December 22: Bob was right about a white Christmas because 13 more
inches of the white shit fell today, and it's so cold it probably won't
melt till August. Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to
shovel and then I had to piss. By the time I got undressed, pissed and
dressed again. I was too tired to shovel. Tried to hire Bob who has a
plow on his truck for the rest of the winter; but he says he's too busy.
I think the asshole is lying.

December 23: Only 2" of snow today. And it warmed up to 0o. The wife
wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning. What is she
nuts!!! Why didn't she tell me to do that a month ago? She says she
did but I think she's lying.

December 24: 6". Snow packed so hard by snowplow, l broke the
shovel. Thought I was having a heart attack. If I ever catch the son of a
bitch who drives that snowplow, I'll drag him through the snow by his balls.
I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling
and then he comes down the street at a 100 miles an hour and throws snow
all over where I've just been! Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas
carols with her and open our presents, but I was busy watching for the
goddamn snowplow.

December 25: Merry Christmas. 20 more inches of the !=3D@x@!x!x1
slop tonight. Snowed in. The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil. God
I hate the snow! Then the snowplow driver came by asking for a donation
and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad
attitude. I think she's an idiot. If I have to watch "It's a Wonderful
Life" one more time, I'm going to kill her.

December 26: Still snowed in. Why the hell did I ever move here? It
was all HER idea. She's really getting on my nerves.

December 27: Temperature dropped to -30o and the pipes froze.

December 28: Warmed up to above -50. Still snowed in. THE BITCH is
driving me crazy!!!!!

December 29: 10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it
could cave in. That's the silliest thing I ever heard. How dumb does
he think I am?

December 30: Roof caved in. The snow plow driver is suing me for a
million dollars. The wife went home to her mother. 9" predicted.

December 31: Set fire to what's left of the house. No more
shoveling.

January 8: I feel so good. I just love those little white pills they
keep giving me. Why am I tied to the bed?
* * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * *

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Martha Stewar holiday humor (repost)

And another from the not-so-wayback machine...
=================================

No holiday season would be complete without swatting the smug grin off of Martha Stewart's face. I give you the following:

When you read or listen to Martha Stewart's hints and advice, do you think to yourself "I could do that"? Then, you follow that thought with "What is wrong with me? Am I just a waste of good air?"

If this is you, then read on ...

MARTHA STEWART'S HOLIDAY CALENDAR

December 1
Blanch carcass from Thanksgiving turkey. Spray paint gold, turnupside
down and use as a sleigh to hold Christmas Cards.

December 2
Have Mormon Tabernacle Choir record outgoing Christmas message for
answering machine.

December 3
Using candlewick and handgilded miniature pine cones, fashion
cat-o-nine tails. Flog Gardener.

December 4
Repaint Sistine Chapel ceiling in ecru, with mocha trim.

December 5
Get new eyeglasses. Grind lenses myself.

December 6
Fax family Christmas newsletter to Pulitzer committee for
consideration.

December 7
Debug Windows '98

December 8
Decorate homegrown Christmas tree with scented candles handmade with
beeswax from my backyard bee colony.

December 9
Record own Christmas album complete with 4 part harmony and all instrument
accompaniment performed by myself. Mail to all my friends and loved
ones.

December 10
Align carpets to adjust for curvature of Earth.

December 11
Lay Faberge egg.

December 12
Erect ice skating rink in front yard using spring water I bottled
myself.

Open for neighborhood children's use. Create festive mood by
handmaking snow and playing my Christmas album.

December 13
Collect Dentures. They make excellent pastry cutters, particularly
for decorative pie crusts.

December 14
Install plumbing in gingerbread house.

December 15
Replace air in mini-van tires with Glade "holiday scents" in case
tires are shot out at mall.

December 17
Child proof the Christmas tree with garland of razor wire.

December 19
Adjust legs of chairs so each Christmas dinner guest will be same
height when sitting at his or her assigned seat.

December 20
Dip sheep and cows in egg whites and roll in confectioner's sugar to
add a festive sparkle to the pasture.

December 21
Drain city reservoir; refill with mulled cider, orange slices and
cinnamon sticks.

December 22
Float votive candles in toilet tank.

December 23
Seed clouds for white Christmas.

December 24
Do my annual good deed. Go to several stores. Be seen engaged in last
minute Christmas shopping, thus making many people feel less
inadequate than they really are.

December 25
Bear son. Swaddle. Lay in color-coordinated manger scented with
homemade potpourri.

December 26
Organize spice racks by genus and phylum.

December 27
Build snowman in exact likeness of God.

December 28
Take Dog apart. Disinfect. Reassemble.

December 29
Hand sew 365 quilts, each using 365 material squares I weaved myself
used to represent the 365 days of the year. Donate to local
orphanages.

December 30
Release flock of white doves, each individually decorated with olive
branches, to signify desire of world peace.

December 31
New Year's Eve! Give staff their resolutions. Call a friend in each
time zone of the world as the clock strikes midnight in that country.


==================================================
And a special letter to Santa. It's so good that I wish I had written it.

Dear Santa,

I rarely ask for much. This year is no exception. I don't need diamond earrings, handy slicer-dicers or comfy slippers. I only want one little thing, and I want it deeply. I want to slap Martha Stewart.

Now, hear me out, Santa. I won't scar her or draw blood or anything. Just one good smack, right across her smug little cheek. I get all cozy inside just thinking about it. Don't grant this wish just for me, do it for thousands of women across the country. Through sheer vicarious satisfaction, you'll be giving a gift to us all. Those of us leading average, garden variety lives aren't concerned with gracious living. We feel pretty good about ourselves if our paper plates match when we stack them on the counter, buffet-style for dinner. We're tired of Martha showing us how to make centerpieces from hollyhock dipped in 18 carat gold. We're plumb out of liquid gold. Unless it's of the furniture polish variety. We can't whip up Martha's creamy holiday sauce, spiced with turmeric. Most of us can't even say turmeric, let alone figure out what to do with it.

OK, Santa, maybe you think I'm being a little harsh. But I'll bet with all the holiday rush you didn't catch that interview with Martha in last week's USA Weekend. I'm surprised there was enough room on the page for her ego.

We discovered that not only does Martha avoid take-out pizza (she's only ordered it once), she refuses to eat it cold (No cold pizza? Is Martha Stewart Living?) When it was pointed out that she could microwave it, she replied, "I don't have a microwave." The reporter, Jeffrey Zaslow, noted that she said this "in a tone that suggests you shouldn't either."

Well lah-dee-dah. Imagine that, Santa!

That lovely microwave you brought me years ago, in which I've learned to make complicated dishes like popcorn and hot chocolate, has been declared undesirable by Queen Martha. What next? The coffee maker?

In the article, we learned that Martha has 40 sets of dishes adorning an entire wall in her home. Forty sets. Can you spell "overkill"? And neatly put away, no less. If my dishes make it to the dishwasher, that qualifies as "put away" in my house!

Martha tells us she's already making homemade holiday gifts for friends. "Last year, I made amazing silk-lined scarves for everyone," she boasts. Not just scarves, mind you. Amazing scarves. Martha's obviously not shy about giving herself a little pat on the back. In fact, she does so with such frequency that one has to wonder if her back is black and blue.

She goes on to tell us that "homemaking is glamour for the 90s," and says her most glamorous friends are "interested in stain removal, how to iron a monogram, and how to fold a towel." I have one piece of advice, Martha: "Get new friends." Glamorous friends fly to Paris on a whim. They drift past the Greek Islands on yachts, sipping champagne from crystal goblets. They step out for the evening in shimmering satin gowns, whisked away by tuxedoed chauffeurs. They do not spend their days pondering the finer art of toilet bowl sanitation.

Zaslow notes that Martha was named one of America's 25 most influential people by Time magazine (nosing out Mother Theresa, Madeline Allbright and Maya Angelou, no doubt).

The proof of Martha's influence: after she bought white-fleshed peaches in the supermarket, Martha says, "People saw me buy them. In an instant, they were all gone." I hope Martha never decides to jump off a bridge!

A guest in Martha's home told Zaslow how Martha gets up early to rollerblade with her dogs to pick fresh wild blackberries for breakfast. This confirms what I've suspected about Martha all along: She's obviously got too much time on her hands. Teaching the dogs to rollerblade. What a show off.

If you think the dogs are spoiled, listen to how Martha treats her friends: She gave one friend all 272 books from the Knopf Everyman Library. It didn't cost much. Pocket change, really. Just $5,000. But what price friendship, right? When asked if others should envy her, Martha replies, "Don't envy me. I'm doing this because I'm a natural teacher. You shouldn't envy teachers. You should listen to them." Zaslow must have slit a seam in Martha's ego at this point, because once the hot air came hissing out, it couldn't be held back. "Being an overachiever is nothing despicable. It is only admirable. Never lower your standards," says Martha. And of her Web Page on the Internet, Martha declares herself an "important presence" as she graciously helps people organize their sad, tacky little lives.

There you have it, Santa. If there was ever someone who deserved a good smack, it's Martha Stewart. But I bet I won't get my gift this year. You probably want to smack her yourself.

Sincerely,

A Hopeful "Child"

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Everything that you know about Rudolph is wrong (repost)

Later, rinse, repost.
================================================

Michele reposted her classic rewrite of one of the holiday season's favorite TV specials. Excerpt:

So what happens? Does Rudolph finally have enough of the bullying and dons a trenchcoat, listens to Marilyn Manson and mows down his enemies? No, Rudolph goes off on an adventure. He escapes his problems instead of confronting them. When you think about it, running away on adventure isn't so bad, as he could have turned to a life on the streets, doing "favors" for old barflys in exchange for salt licks.

I really missed Michele's blogging during her absence. And her post put me in mind to repost an old image:

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And still more holiday images (repost)

Lather, rinse, repost.

santa mexican.jpg

santa_1_.gif

santagrave.jpgxmas22_1.jpg

And here's one that you won't want to see.


santa belly105.jpg

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Caught in the act (repost)

Frosty turns out to be a dirty, nasty little grade schooler:

Frosty.bmp

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Barbie's letter to Santa (repost)

Don't say that I didn't warn you about the Christmas-time repeats...
===============================

Barbie's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

Listen you fat little troll, I've been helping you out every year,
playing at being the perfect Christmas Present, wearing skimpy bathing
suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many tea
parties, and I hate to break it to ya Santa, but IT'S DEFINITELY PAY
BACK TIME! There had better be some changes around here this Christmas,
or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me, you won't
wanna be around to smell it).

So, here's my holiday wish list for 1998, Santa.

1. A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized sweatshirt.
I'm sick of looking like a hooker. How much smaller are these bathing
suits gonna get? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon
and velcro up your butt?

2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. Preferably white. What
bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to
my skin?!? It looks like cellulite!

3. A REAL man... maybe GI JOE. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that
wimped-out excuse for a boy toy Ken. And what's with that earring anyway?
If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me)
anatomically correct.

4. Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp
away once he is anatomically correct.

5. Breast reduction surgery. I don't care whose arm you have to twist,
just get it done.

6. A jog-bra. To wear until I get the surgery.

7. A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How
about a systems analyst? Or better yet, a public relations senior
account exec!

8. A new, more 90's persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with a
miniature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a
bag of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun,
fitted with a fake fur coat, bottle of spray on blood and handcuffs;
or "Stop Smoking Barbie," sporting a Nicotrol patch and equipped with
several packs of gum.

9. No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl.

10. Mattel stock options. It's been 37 years-I think I deserve it.
Okay Santa, that's it. Considering my valuable contribution to society, I
don't think these requests are out of line. If you disagree, then you can
find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas. It's that simple.

Yours Truly,

Barbie

----------------------------

Ken's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

I understand that one of my colleagues has petitioned you
for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and
career changes. In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging
remarks were made about me, my ability to please, and some of my
fashion choices. I would like to take this opportunity to inform you
of some issues concerning Ms. Barbie, and some of my own needs and
desires.

First of all, I along with several other colleagues feel
Barbie DOES NOT deserve preferential treatment - the bitch has
everything. Along with Joe, Jem, Raggedy Ann & Andy, I DO NOT have
a dream house, corvette, evening gowns, and in some cases the ability
to change our hair style. I personally have only 3 outfits which I am
forced to mix and match at great length.

My decision to accessorize my outfits with an earring was my
decision and reflects my lifestyle choice.

I too would like a change in my career. Have you ever considered
"Decorator Ken", "Beauty Salon Ken", or "Out Of Work Actor Ken"? In
addition, there are several other avenues which could be considered such
as:

"S&M Ken" , "Green Lantern Ken", "Circuit Ken", "Bear Ken", "Master Ken".

These would more accurately reflect my desires and perhaps open up new
markets. And as for Barbie needing bendable arms so she can "push me
away," I need bendable knees so I can kick the bitch to the curb.
Bendable knees would also be helpful for me in other situations - we've
talked about this issue before.

In closing, I would like to point out that any further concessions
to the blond bimbo from hell will result in action be taken by myself and
others. And Barbie can forget about having Joe - he's mine, at least that's
what he said last night.

Sincerely,

Ken

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December 17, 2009

The X-mas files (repost)

Don't think of it as leftovers. Instead, think of it as a rerun of a dearly beloved holiday classic.

===========================================


57 ELM STREET BETHLEHEM, PA. 11:51 P.M., DECEMBER 24TH

Mulder: We're too late. It's already been here.

Scully: Mulder, I hope you know what you are doing.

Mulder: Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas fir, truncated, mounted, transformed into some sort of shrine; halls decked with boughs of holly; stockings hung by the chimney, with care.

Scully: You really think someone's been here?

Mulder: Someone or some THING.

Scully: Mulder, over here -- it's fruitcake.

Mulder: Don't touch it! Those things can be lethal.

Scully: It's O.K. There's a note attached: "Gonna find out who's naughty and nice."

Mulder: It's judging them, Scully. It's making a list.

Scully: Who? What are you talking about?

Mulder: Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity who could travel at great speed in a craft powered by antlered servants. Once each year, near the winter solstice, this creature is said to descend from the heavens to reward its followers and punish its disbelievers with jagged chunks of anthracite.

Scully: But that's legend, Mulder -- a story told by parents to frighten children. Surely, you don't believe it?

Mulder: Something was here tonite, Scully. Check out the bite marks on this gingerbread man. Whatever tore through this plate of cookies was massive -- and in a hurry.

Scully: It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder, this milk glass has been completely drained.

Mulder: It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without remorse.

Scully: But why would they leave it milk and cookies?

Mulder: Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can stop its wilding.

Scully: But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The doors and windows were locked. There's no sign of forced entry.

Mulder: Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace.

Scully: Wait a minute, Mulder. If you are saying some huge creature landed on the roof and came down the chimney, you're crazy. The flue is barely six inches wide. Nothing could get through there.

Mulder: But what if it could alter its shape, move in all directions.

Scully: You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?

Mulder: Exactly. Scully, I've never told anyone this, but when I was a child my home was visited. I saw the creature. It had long white strips of fur surrounding its ruddy, misshapen head. Its bloated torso was red and white. I'll never forget the horror. I turned away, and when I looked back it had somehow taken on the facial features of my father.

Scully: Impossible.

Mulder: I know what I saw. And that night it read my mind. It brought me a Mr. Potato Head, Scully. IT KNEW I WANTED A MR. POTATO HEAD.

Scully: I'm sorry, Mulder, but you're asking me to disregard the laws of physics. You want me to believe in some supernatural being who soars across the skies and brings gifts to good little girls and boys. Listen to what you are saying. Do you understand the repercussions? If this gets out, they'll close the X-files.

Mulder: Scully, listen to me: It knows when you are sleeping. It knows when you're awake.

Scully: But we have no proof.

Mulder: Last year, on this exact date, S.E.T.I. radio telescopes detected bogeys in the airspace over twenty-seven states. The White House ordered a Condition Red.

Scully: But that was a meteor shower.

Mulder: Officially. Two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian reindeer vanished from the National Zoo in Washington, D.C. Nobody - not even the zookeeper - was told about it. The government doesn't want people to know about Project Kringle. They fear that if this thing is proved to exist, then the public would stop spending half its annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy. Retail markets will collapse. Scully,they cannot let the world believe this creature lives. There's too much at stake. They'll do whatever it takes to insure another silent night.

Scully: Mulder, I --

Mulder: Sh-h-h! Do you hear what I hear?

Scully: On the roof. It sounds like . . . a clatter.

Mulder: The truth is up there. Let's see what's the matter.


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December 15, 2009

How to tell if you've been really bad this year

Don't say that I didn't warn you:

Santabad.jpg

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December 09, 2009

Every once in a while . . . In life . . . you run into a genius with a true talent!

Received via email:

Every once in a while . . . In life . . . you run into a genius with a true talent!

truetalent.jpg

THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Innovative
2. Preliminary
3. Proliferation
4. Cinnamon

THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Specificity
2. Anti-constitutionalistically
3. Passive-aggressive disorder
4. Transubstantiate

THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. No thanks, I'm married.
2. Nope, no more booze for me!
3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4. No thanks, I'm not hungry.
5. Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?
6. Oh, I couldn't! No one wants to hear me sing karaoke.
7. I'm not interested in fighting you.
8. Thank you, but I won't make any attempt to dance, I have no coordination.
I'd hate to look like a fool!
9. Where is the nearest bathroom? I refuse to pee on the side of the road.
10. I must be going home now, as I have to work in the morning.


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December 08, 2009

When old school kicks new schools ass

I don't know what to say about this article: Revisiting Old-School Text Adventures as a Jaded Modern Gamer.

Okay, that's not true. I know exactly what to say: BWAHAHAHA!. Excerpt:

zorklon1.jpg

zorklon2.jpg

...

zorklon5.jpg

It gets even better.

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Redneck sex ed class (repost)

I've got nuthin' today except this.

redneck sex ed class.jpg

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December 07, 2009

Star Wars Facebook updates

Link sent by a friend. A sick, twisted friend, God love her. Here's a sample:

collegehumor.b4e2234a1b65fc0bf05b42cd787ee934.jpg


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December 03, 2009

Oh, Christmas tree

Reposted from last year. Expect. more reruns until EOY; I'm quite busy.
================================================
While some of you might think that the picture below is cute and creative, what you're missing is that it's a crime against nature. Look closely and see if you can spot what's wrong.

beer bottle tree.JPG

Did you notice? The bottles are EMPTY!!! They should be full until you slowly disassemble the tree over the course of a few days, emptying the bottles into your stomach. Now that's a celebration.

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Time for some holiday classics (repost)

From last year, with links updated a bit:
---------------------------

Raging Rudolph and The Reinfather. Videos embedded below the fold.

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The Tiger Woods Family Christmas Portrait

tiger woods family portrait.jpg

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December 01, 2009

Incredible cybersex

This will seem a bit dated, as it goes back to the time of pr0n chat rooms. Still makes me laugh, though.

-------------------------------------------
Online computer users often engage in what is affectionately known
as "cybersex". Often the fantasies typed into keyboards and shared
through Internet phone lines get pretty raunchy. However, as you'll see
below, one of the two cyber-surfers in the following transcript of an online
chat doesn't seem to quite get the point of cyber sex. Then again, maybe
he does...

Wellhung: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like?

Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are 36-24-36. What do you look like?

Wellhung: I'm 6'3" and about 250 pounds.I wear glasses and I have on
a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Walmart.I'm also wearing a
T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner...it smells
funny.

Sweetheart: I want you.Would you like to screw me?

Wellhung: OK

Sweetheart: We're in my bedroom.There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table. I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.

Wellhung: I'm gulping, I'm beginning to sweat.

Sweetheart: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.

Wellhung: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse.My hands are trembling.

Sweetheart: I'm moaning softly.

Wellhung: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.

Sweetheart: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure.The cool silk slides off my warm skin.I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.

Wellhung: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a
hole in your blouse.I'm sorry.

Sweetheart: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive.

Wellhung: I'll pay for it.

Sweetheart: Don't worry about it.I'm wearing a lacy black bra.My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breath harder and harder.

Wellhung: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra.I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors?

Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly.I'm reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you.

Wellhung: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.

Sweetheart: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue
all over me.

Wellhung: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts. They're neat!

Sweetheart: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear.

Wellhung: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm.

Sweetheart: What?

Wellhung: I'm so sorry. Really.

Sweetheart: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.

Wellhung: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a plop.

Sweetheart: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing your
hard tool.

Wellhung: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!

Sweetheart: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take off my panties.

Wellhung: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you...umm... wait a minute.

Sweetheart: What's the matter?

Wellhung: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking.

Sweetheart: Are you OK?

Wellhung: I'm having a coughing fit. I'm turning all red.

Sweetheart: Can I help?

Wellhung: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?

Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.

Wellhung: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better.

Sweetheart: Come back to me, lover.

Wellhung: I'm washing the cup now.

Sweetheart: I'm on the bed arching for you.

Wellhung: I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's the bedroom?

Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.

Wellhung: I found it.

Sweetheart: I'm tuggin' off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly.

Wellhung: Me too.

Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately-our naked bodies pressing each other.

Wellhung: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.

Sweetheart: Why don't you take off your glasses?

Wellhung: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table.

Sweetheart: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!

Wellhung: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.

Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover.

Wellhung: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid.

Sweetheart: I'm waiting eagerly for your return.

Wellhung: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh!

Sweetheart: What's the matter now?

Wellhung: I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.

Sweetheart: Mmm, yes. Come on.

Wellhung: OK, now I'm going to put my...you know ...thing...in your...you know...woman's thing.

Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!

Wellhung: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here.

Sweetheart: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand
it another second! Slide in! Screw me now!

Wellhung: I'm flaccid.

Sweetheart: What?

Wellhung: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection.

Sweetheart: I'm standing up and turning around; an incredulous look on my face.

Wellhung: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my weiner all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong.

Sweetheart: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet nasty blouse.

Wellhung: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles.

Sweetheart: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes.

Wellhung: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of our candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.

Sweetheart: Go to hell. I'm logging off, you loser!

Wellhung: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh noooo!

Sweetheart: ::logged of::

::The End::

Update:Ace has a post on this very topic. Funny stuff.

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November 25, 2009

Bringing on the funny

Iowahawk, Iowahawk: wherefore art thou Iowahawk?

Oh wait. You're over here. Excerpt:

Professor Nigel V.H. Oldham

Like other species in the order homo scientifica, the climate researcher gathers and organizes data to lure grant money to the hive. In contrast to those other species, however, the climate researcher has evolved a set of complex violent behaviors to insure any data leaving the hive is perfectly adapted to nature's most lucrative and sweetest grants. It really is a marvel of natural selection, and explains why the climate researcher continues to thrive in any kind of weather condition.
...
The climate researcher is in some sense a milestone in evolutionary biology. Ever since Darwin, we have understood that a particular species adapts to its environmental reality. Now for the first time, we are seeing evidence that environmental reality is adapting to a particular species. It's not really rocket science. Well okay, I suppose it's really not science at all.

So go read Iowahawk, despite the intense, bitter envy I feel towards him. Next time, rub some lemon juice in a paper cut.

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November 24, 2009

The Cameron Column #1 (repost)

If you've never read any of Bruce Cameron's articles, you've been missing out. He stopped writing for a while, restarted and then stopped again, and the started again. In any event, here is his Thanksgiving column circa 1998.
==================================================

Like many men, I am different from my wife in ways which are noticeable, and, in my opinion, fortunate.

Take the Thanksgiving turkey (and I mean that literally. PLEASE come over to our house, open the refrigerator, shove aside everything growing green fuzz, and take this carcass away before it reincarnates as turkey lasagna or turkey tetracycline or whatever new concoction awaits the family.) But take Thanksgiving--my wife prefers small birds that fit nicely into the roasting pan and which can be cooked in a few hours.

"Ha!" I can be quoted as sneering. I trace my own gender lineage to that proud, hairy group of hunter-gatherers who, prior to the invention of TV remote control, would pick up their spears, huddle, and then go out and pull down a huge bison for dinner, stopping at the bar on the way home for a couple of cave brews. So when I go to the store for a turkey, I find a TURKEY: a mammoth, many-pound fowl with drum sticks as large as my thighs and wings you could park a car under.

Words cannot describe the delight on my wife's face when my neighbors help me carry the bird into the refrigerator, where, following the instructions, it is left to thaw for a period of six months. (My wife often has several interesting but impractical suggestions on where else we might stick the turkey for this thawing procedure.) Cooking begins around Halloween, a slow roasting process which varies from my mother's recipe in that there are no flames or threats of divorce "if anybody says a word about how the turkey tastes."

I enjoy every step of turkey preparation, particularly since I am not involved in any of it. Well, that's not entirely true--at one point, I am asked to reach into the mouth of the turkey and retrieve the giblets, which turns out to be a bag of what looks like pieces of Jimmy Hoffa. (I realize I am not, technically speaking, putting my hand in the bird's "mouth," but I'd rather not dwell on what this means.) How the turkey manages to swallow this stuff in the first place is beyond me. Traditionally, we open this bag, dump the contents into a pan of water, and boil the results. Only the cat is happy about this development.

As wonderful as this all is, by the fourth or fifth night my appetite for turkey variations has waned, and I provide valuable feedback to my wife by making gagging noises at dinner time. Her verbal (as opposed to projectile) response to this is to imply that it is somehow MY fault we have so many leftovers, to which I logically reply, "hey, YOU cooked it."

Now, before you men out there become too smug with how adroitly I out maneuvered her with my quick retort, you should be advised that she STILL blames me for our turkey-induced bulimia. Therefore I appeal to my readership: has anyone else noticed bizarre psychiatric reactions to turkey consumption which might explain this whole controversy? Please advise via return e-mail, which will be picked up by the crack WBC technical team and, judging by previous results, forwarded to the Governor of New Jersey.

Thanks... oh, and Happy Thanksgiving too.

The Cameron Column, A Free Internet Newsletter
Copyright W. Bruce Cameron 1998
================================================

You can find his stuff here, including my all-time favorite column.

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Spicing up Thanksgiving dinner

Why yes, I did post this last year. Thanks for asking
=========================================

Here is a new way to prepare your Thanksgiving or Christmas Turkey.

1. Cut out aluminum foil in desired shapes.
2. Arrange the turkey in the roasting pan, position the foil carefully (see
attached)
3. Roast according to your own recipes and serve.
4. Watch your guests' faces.

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November 19, 2009

Holiday greetings

It's once again that time of year when I repost stale holiday humor. Expect this to continue, more or less, through the end of the year.
===========================

Due to the ever-increasing cost of postage, and my decreasing ability to write legibly, here is my card to cover every holiday of the rest of our lives.

santaturkey.jpg

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November 17, 2009

How to cook a turkey

Reposted from last year.

=====================
This has been making its way around the Internet since 1500 B.C., even though the first computer still hadn't been manufactured yet. However, if there's one thing that you can count on me for, it's recycling the stalest holiday humor you've ever seen between now and the New Year.
---------------------------------------------------
HOW TO COOK A TURKEY

Step 1: Go buy a turkey

Step 2: Take a drink of whiskey, scotch, or JD

Step 3: Put turkey in the oven

Step 4: Take another 2 drinks of whiskey

Step 5: Set the degree at 375 ovens

Step 6: Take 3 more whiskeys of drink

Step 7: Turn oven the on

Step 8: Take 4 whisks of drinky

Step 9: Turk the bastey

Step 10: Whiskey another bottle of get

Step 11: Stick a turkey in the thermometer

Step 12: Glass yourself a pour of whiskey

Step 13: Bake the whiskey for 4 hours

Step 14: Take the oven out of the turkey

Step 15: Take the oven out of the turkey

Step 16: Floor the turkey up off the pick

Step 17: Turk the carvey

Step 18: Get yourself another scottle of botch

Step 19: Tet the sable and pour yourself a glass of turkey(Ed. note: this didn't used to be possible)

Step 20: Bless the saying, pass and eat out

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A special Thanksgiving Day message

Reposted from last year. 'Tis the season and all that jazz.
======================================


piece of me.jpg


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It is to laugh

Courtesy of the lovely and talented Mary Katharine Ham comes a link to this special news report:


Obama's Home Teleprompter Malfunctions During Family Dinner

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November 13, 2009

Better than the original

Far be it from me to say anything negative about the ample charms Christina Hendricks displays weekly on Mad Men. However, I have to say that the following series reboot surpasses the original:

Milk Men - A Mad Men Parody

Atom.com: Funny Videos | Spoofs | TV & Movie Spoofs

There's only one thing missing: no one smokes milk. I'm just saying.

Thanks to Neal Boortz for the find.

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November 10, 2009

We have a winner

And for once it's me!

Oh sure, Rodney Dill would win pretty much every week if he weren't running the darned thing (he wins most weeks over at Wizbang), but I'll take my meager victory in this week's caption contest.

Here's the photo:

obama_halloween_whmc123.jpg

And here was my caption:

First: physics geek Ė A band consisting of Chicago area voters gathered for a jam session.


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November 04, 2009

Old. old joke (repost)

Think of a repost as a rerun of an episode of a much beloved television series. Or not. Whatever.
================================================

I first saw this on rec.humor eons ago. Not exactly sure what made me think of it, but I couldn't resist posting it.

By the way, don't take too seriously the "it's real" part.

Tandem Writing Assignment

The following is a true story received from an English professor.

You know that book "Men are from Mars, Women from Venus"? Well, here's a prime example of that. This assignment was actually turned in by two of my English students: Rebecca (last name deleted) and Gary (last name deleted).

First, the Assignment:

English 44A
SMU
Creative Writing
Prof. Miller

In-Class Assignment for Wednesday:
Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth.

Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.

And now, the Assignment as submitted by Rebecca & Gary:

Rebecca starts:

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The camomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked camomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So camomile was out of the question.

Gary:

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far...". But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

Rebecca:

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel." Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth -- when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

Gary:

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"

Rebecca:

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

Gary:

Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.

Rebecca:

Asshole.

Gary:

Bitch.

My guess is that they have 5 children now.

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My geeky past paid off for once

Rodney Dill graciously awarded me first place in a recent caption contest. Of course, that's only because I didn't have to compete against Rodney Dill, but I'll take what I can get.

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October 26, 2009

From the wayback machine

I give you the classic Bambi Meets Godzilla:

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October 07, 2009

Which one does your cat listen to (part 2), repost

Cat listening to Hip Hop

cat hip hop.gif

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October 02, 2009

Uh oh

Blame Smitty. I know that I do:

palinangry.jpg

Update: Whoops. Forgot to link to Troglopundit as the instigator.

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October 01, 2009

Quote of the day

And it's from the fertile mind of Moxie regarding the charisma that Pawlenty exudes:

He has all the impact of dust landing on a down comforter.

Pawlenty strikes me as a decent guy and a reasonably conservative fellow. And I find the possibility of him beating Obama to be somewhat where in the neighborhood of zero. Okay, maybe next door to zero. Okay, in the same house AND sleeping in the same bed.

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September 30, 2009

Which one does your cat listen to? (part 1, repost)

Cat listening to HOUSE music

cat house.gif

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September 22, 2009

Required reading

It's Iowahawk, of course.

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September 18, 2009

Probably one of my ex-students

To be fair, I'd probably have given him/her and "A" on the test for being able to make me laugh.

fail-owned-hard-water-fail.jpg

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September 17, 2009

Worth 1000 words

I found this via Ace's sidebar. Click on image to expand:


rule34.jpg

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September 16, 2009

Quote of the day

Via Neal Boortz:

Kanye just interrupted the Swayze funeral to remind them Michael Jackson had the greatest funeral of all time.

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September 02, 2009

Table of Condiments That Go Periodically Bad

Table of Condiments That Periodically Go Bad


table of condiments.JPG

Click to expand. Image found here.

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August 25, 2009

It's true. That's why I'm crying

Just saw this XKCD comic, which struck way too close to home:

threesome.png


My sister-in-law asked me, when I told her that I had taken ballet in college, this: Did you do it to pick up girls?

I replied with an anecdote from Monk. Adrian was showing an old home video to Natalie in which he's standing mostly behind a tree. The following dialogue ensued (paraphrased except for the last sentence):

Natalie: What are you doing there?

Monk: I'm playing Hide.

Natalie: Oh, you mean Hide and Seek.

Monk: You just don't get it, do you?

Even if I had been so inclined, my pitiful, pathetic, painfully ridiculous overtures would have been met with, at best, pity. More likely though, is the probability that I'd have been introduced to the Point and Laugh response. Again.

While I can't say that "going into physics was the biggest mistake of my life", I can safely state that going into physics was far and away the biggest girl repelling thing that I've ever done. Sure, I dig women. A lot. Sadly, I must have dug Shroedinger's Time Dependent Wave Equation more.

Don't pity me. I'm just not worth it.

Going into physics was the biggest mistake of my life. I should've declared CS. I still wouldn't have any women, but at least I'd be rolling in cash.

Well, I did meet my wife while working in CS/IT, so I think that the author has a point.

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July 23, 2009

Dare to dream

Iowahawk has a vision for the nation, something far more historic than JFK's smallish plan to put a man on the Moon.

If America wants to get back on the right track, scientific space mission-wise, we need to once again pick an inspiring, audacious goal, and man it with the kind of inspirational crew to make it happen. At long last, let us realize mankind's most cherished dream -- sending the entire United States Congress to the Moon by 2010.

When I mention this proposal to my space engineering friends at Meier's Tap, they are often skeptical. They'll argue it's impossible, that even NASA's most powerful booster rockets never anticipated a payload of 535 people including Charlie Rangel and Jerrold Nadler. Look man, I'm just the idea guy, and I'm sure those details can be worked out. When John F. Kennedy first proposed going to the Moon in 1961, did you people expect him to already have a formula for Tang? The beauty of my proposal is that our Astro-Congress is already on payroll -- and chock full of crisis tested problem-solving engineers. If they can take over the entire US auto industry and re-engineer the American heath care system in two weeks, surviving a Moon mission will be a snap!

Now that's a plan to put my tax dollars to good use. In fact, probably the best use to which they could be put.

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July 16, 2009

Puiblic service announcement

If you like chewing gum- as I do- you probably never thought about some of the dangers associated with said act, especially if you swallow it. View the image below the fold for a visual representation of the danger.

ChewingGumWarning.jpg

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July 06, 2009

Word association

Sort of, anyway. Check out this comment from Hot Air. It made me laugh. A lot.

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June 29, 2009

All my childhood memories are in ashes

Check out this link and be saddened. :;sob::

Credit to the puppy blending monster for the link.

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June 25, 2009

Beware of this scam...

I'm pretty sure this is a scam...

Warn your friends anyway just in case it's not! See photographic evidence below the fold.

mammogram.jpg

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June 18, 2009

If Obama had a Facebook page

Top shelf stuff right here.

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June 11, 2009

New National Symbol

Received via email:


The government today announced that is is changing the national symbol to a condom because it more accurately reflects the government's political stance. A condom allows for inflation, halts production, destroys the next generation, protects a bunch of pricks, and gives you a sense of security while you're actually being screwed.

It just doesn't get more accurate than that.

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June 09, 2009

I'm always behind the curve

Well, I've decided to keep suckling at corporate America's teat. Turns out that all my paying bills and feeding my family is merely a lifestyle choice. Instead, I could have been funemployed.

Iowahawk explains:

What most people would call unemployment, Smalley embraced as "funemployment." What other people would dismiss as starvation, he whimsically terms a "starve-cation."

"Economic Depression" once conjured images of tent cities and desperate job-seeking drifters, but for hordes of jobless Gen Xers, there is a silver lining in the new upbeat economic meltdown. These giddily carefree hipsters tend to be single and in their 20s and 30s, happily unencumbered by the obligations of parenthood or teeth.

Buoyed by severance, savings, unemployment checks and free Salvation Army blankets, the nation's new wave of hip funemployed do not spend their days poring over job listings. With no timeclock to punch, they travel on the cheap for weeks, bartering mix CDs or sterno or sexual favors for a fun cross-country boxcar trip. They study yoga and newspaper journalism, or grab a quick al fresco lunch at the neighborhood soup kitchen bistro. They participate in fun dance marathons and pole-sitting contests. And at least till the bank account dries up and the tuberculosis takes hold, they're content living for today.

I had no idea just how wrong I'd been.

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May 19, 2009

I didn't know that someone had recorded my keystrokes...

Really old, but worth repeating.
-------------------------------------
Online computer users often engage in what is affectionately known
as "cybersex". Often the fantasies typed into keyboards and shared
through Internet phone lines get pretty raunchy. However, as you'll see
below, one of the two cyber-surfers in the following transcript of an online
chat doesn't seem to quite get the point of cyber sex. Then again, maybe
he does...



Wellhung: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like?

Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are 36-24-36. What do you look like?

Wellhung: I'm 6'3" and about 250 pounds.I wear glasses and I have on
a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Walmart.I'm also wearing a
T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner...it smells
funny.

Sweetheart: I want you.Would you like to screw me?

Wellhung: OK

Sweetheart: We're in my bedroom.There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table. I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.

Wellhung: I'm gulping, I'm beginning to sweat.

Sweetheart: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.

Wellhung: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse.My hands are trembling.

Sweetheart: I'm moaning softly.

Wellhung: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.

Sweetheart: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure.The cool silk slides off my warm skin.I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.

Wellhung: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a
hole in your blouse.I'm sorry.

Sweetheart: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive.

Wellhung: I'll pay for it.

Sweetheart: Don't worry about it.I'm wearing a lacy black bra.My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breath harder and harder.

Wellhung: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra.I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors?

Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly.I'm reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you.

Wellhung: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.

Sweetheart: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue
all over me.

Wellhung: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts. They're neat!

Sweetheart: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear.

Wellhung: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm.

Sweetheart: What?

Wellhung: I'm so sorry. Really.

Sweetheart: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.

Wellhung: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a plop.

Sweetheart: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing your
hard tool.

Wellhung: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!

Sweetheart: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take off my panties.

Wellhung: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you...umm... wait a minute.

Sweetheart: What's the matter?

Wellhung: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking.

Sweetheart: Are you OK?

Wellhung: I'm having a coughing fit. I'm turning all red.

Sweetheart: Can I help?

Wellhung: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?

Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.

Wellhung: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better.

Sweetheart: Come back to me, lover.

Wellhung: I'm washing the cup now.

Sweetheart: I'm on the bed arching for you.

Wellhung: I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's the bedroom?

Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.

Wellhung: I found it.

Sweetheart: I'm tuggin' off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly.

Wellhung: Me too.

Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately-our naked bodies pressing each other.

Wellhung: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.

Sweetheart: Why don't you take off your glasses?

Wellhung: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table.

Sweetheart: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!

Wellhung: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.

Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover.

Wellhung: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid.

Sweetheart: I'm waiting eagerly for your return.

Wellhung: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh!

Sweetheart: What's the matter now?

Wellhung: I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.

Sweetheart: Mmm, yes. Come on.

Wellhung: OK, now I'm going to put my...you know ...thing...in your...you know...woman's thing.

Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!

Wellhung: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here.

Sweetheart: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand
it another second! Slide in! Screw me now!

Wellhung: I'm flaccid.

Sweetheart: What?

Wellhung: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection.

Sweetheart: I'm standing up and turning around; an incredulous look on my face.

Wellhung: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my weiner all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong.

Sweetheart: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet nasty blouse.

Wellhung: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles.

Sweetheart: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes.

Wellhung: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of our candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.

Sweetheart: Go to hell. I'm logging off, you loser!

Wellhung: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh noooo!

Sweetheart: ::logged of::

::The End::

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May 18, 2009

New word processor

For the those with melanin challenged follicles:

word for blondes.JPG

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May 05, 2009

Joke of the day

This is an oldie, but it still makes me laugh:

Many years ago I was acting as the system administrator for a test system in a large publicly held company. Periodically I would receive a call from someone who had not accessed the system recently, forgot their password and locked themselves out trying to logon. I would look up their password and unlock the system for them and they would go on their merry way.

One day I received a call from a young lady who was in just such a predicament. I looked up her password and informed her that it was 'DOME' and, just to be playful, told her the price for me being gracious enough to unlock her sign-on was an explanation of the meaning of her password. She became very embarrassed over the phone and pleaded that she could never reveal her secret. I of course replied that I would not give her system access until she did. After negotiating for several minutes she finally acquiesced but made me promise to never reveal her password meaning to any of her colleagues to which I gladly agreed.

"Well, what does it mean?", I asked.

She hesitated and then replied, "It's two words."

There was pregnant pause. I unlocked her system and simply said, "Have a nice day".

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May 01, 2009

Website welcomes the age of Obama

Yesterday, ESPN's website was invaded by unicorns, rainbows and sparkling ponies. This was the day after Obama's press conference. Coincidence?

espn_unicorns_01.jpg

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April 30, 2009

Today's funny

Real life Twitter below the fold.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

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April 20, 2009

Interesting piece of fiction

Or was it last Wednesday?

I have no idea how Iowahawk manages to do this type of thing on a consistent basis. Fills my black heart with jealousy, it does, my precious.

Ah well. Read it anyway.

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April 09, 2009

Proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy

Courtesy of Moe Lane comes this video of Women. Underwear. Light Sabers..

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April 02, 2009

Parody or reality?

Sometimes the Onion posts something that's just a little too close to reality: Cheering Fans, Thrilling NCAA Tournament Disgust BCS Officials

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March 26, 2009

Again with the funny

Well, I'm still waiting for my pony that shits rainbows. Until it arrives, I thought that I'd repost some old, bad jokes.

Yeah, I know: I'm a giver.

Did you hear the one about the psychic dwarf that escaped from prison?

The newspaper headlines read "small medium at large."
=============================================

An American businessman is visiting Japan.

The first night there, he's getting bored, so he hires a local hooker and they go at it all night. She keeps screaming "Fugifoo! Fugifoo!" and he takes this to mean he's doing something right.

The next day, he's out golfing with his Japanese clients and shoots a hole in one! He can't believe it, and, trying to impress his clients with his knowledge of Japanese, he shouts triumphantly, "Fugifoo!"

The Japanese guys stop and look at him, confused. "What are you talking about?" they ask. "That's the right hole."

========================================

Once upon a time, in a land far away, a beautiful, independent, self assured princess happened upon a frog as she sat, contemplating ecological issues on the shores of an unpolluted pond in a verdant meadow near her castle.

The frog hopped into the princess' lap and said,"Elegant Lady, I was once a handsome prince, until an evil witch cast a spell upon me. One kiss from you, however, and I will turn back into the dapper, young prince that I am and then, my sweet, we can marry and set up housekeeping in yon castle with my mother, where you can prepare my meals, clean my clothes, bear my children, and forever feel grateful and happy doing so."

That night, as the princess dined sumptuously on a repast of lightly sauteed frog legs seasoned in a white wine and onion cream sauce, she chuckled to herself and thought,"I don't fucking think so."

===============================================

A woman meets a gorgeous man in a bar. They talk, they connect, they end up leaving together. They get back to his apartment and she notices that his bedroom is completely packed with sweet cuddly teddy bears. Hundreds of cute small bears on a shelf all the way along the floor, cuddly medium-sized ones on a shelf a little higher, and huge enormous bears on the top shelf along the wall.

The woman is surprised that this guy would have a collection of teddy bears, especially one that's so extensive, but she decides not to mention this to him, and actually is quite impressed by his sensitive side. She turns to him. They kiss....and then they rip each other's clothes off and make hot steamy l-o-v-e.

After an intense night of passion with this sensitive guy, they are lying there together in the after glow, the woman rolls over and asks, smiling, "Well, how was it?"

The guy says: "Help yourself to any prize from the bottom shelf."

=========================================
A young couple got married and left on their honeymoon. When they got back, the bride immediately called her mother. Her mother asked, "How was the honeymoon?"

"Oh, mama," she replied, "the honeymoon was wonderful! So romantic..." Suddenly she burst out crying. "But, mama, as soon as we returned Sam started using the most horrible language...things I'd never heard before! I mean, all these awful 4-letter words! You've got to come get me and take me
home.... Please mama!"

"Sarah, Sarah," her mother said, "calm down! Tell me, what could be so awful? What 4-letter words?"

"Please don't make me tell you, mama," wept the daughter, "I'm so embarrassed they're just too awful! Come get me, please!"

"Darling, baby, you must tell me what has you so upset.... Tell your mother these horrible 4-letter words!"

Still sobbing, the bride said, "Oh, mama...words like DUST, WASH, IRON, COOK...!"

=================================================

A man was walking along the street when he saw a ladder going into the clouds. As any of us would do, he climbed the ladder. He reached a cloud, upon which sat a rather plump and very ugly woman. "Screw me or climb the ladder to success," she said.

No contest, thought the man, so he climbed the ladder to the next cloud. On this cloud was a slightly thinner woman, who was slightly easier on the eye. "Screw me hard or climb the ladder to success," she said. "Well," thought the man, "might as well carry on."

On the next cloud was an even more attractive lady who, this time, was quite attractive. "Screw me now or climb the ladder to success," she uttered. As he turned her down and went on up the ladder, the man thought to himself that this was getting better the further he went.

On the next cloud was an absolute beauty. Slim, attractive, the lot. "Fuck me here and now or climb the ladder to success," she flirted.

Unable to imagine what could be waiting, and being a gambling man, he decided to climb again. When he reached the next cloud, there was a 400-pound ugly man, arm pit hair showing, flies buzzing around his head.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

"Hello" said the ugly fat man, "I'm Cess!"

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March 23, 2009

This makes me laugh

For those of you who didn't watch Christian Laettner break Rick Pitino's heart in the NCAA regional final, the following will be essentially meaningless to you. For all others, well, whether or not you hate/love the Blue Devils, this should make you laugh.

Update: Watch this before watching the commercial below. It will provide the context. Besides, it's truly a beautiful sight to behold.

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March 20, 2009

He makes with the funny

One positive- okay, maybe the only positive- aspect of Obama's campaign and subsequent election is having Jim Treacher poking his head out of his blogging hole more frequently. Here's the esteemed Mr. Treacher following up on Obama's, err, interesting appearance on the Tonight Show last nigh. Here are few other things Obama might have saidt:

  • "Kevin Eubanks, how are ya, man? Is Jay letting you come in through the front entrance yet? No? It's okay, I do the same thing to Biden."
    ...
  • Yeah, John McCain and I get along. Although he always freezes me out when I try to give him a high five! [audience groans] What, too soon?"

  • "Sarah Palin and I don't talk much, 'cause I don't speak Tardese. 'Doy! Durr! Look at my dumb baby!' [audience member boos] Oh, lighten up."

  • "Another great thing about LA is all the fags. [audience hisses] OK, OK, Faggot-Americans. Hey, I got no problem with it. After all, I did hire Rahm Emmanuel!"

  • "You know what cracks me up? Chinese people. [sticks front teeth over bottom lip and pushes back corners of eyes] 'Herro, Mistel Plesident!'"

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March 18, 2009

Basketball funny

Pretty good effort from DJ Gallo. Excerpt:

No. 9 Siena (26-7) "So what if a fictional character is the most famous person from Siena College? Laugh it up. But you won't be laughing when we win the fictional national championship." -- Det. Olivia Benson, character on "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit," supposedly a graduate of Siena ... No. 7 Boston College (22-11) "I filled out two brackets this year. So I actually picked Boston College to win it all before I picked against them." -- Sen. John Kerry, Boston College Law School '76 ... No. 8 BYU (25-7) "I am excited about the Cougars' chances in the NCAA tournament. If they win it all, I have half a mind to go crazy and celebrate by wearing a Brooks Brothers button-down during a TV interview instead of a suit and tie. Who knows, I could even go with a sensible polo shirt?" -- Mitt Romney, BYU '71 ... No. 7 California (22-10) "Twenty-two wins. Tied for third in the Pac-10. Only Ö a seven-seed? Getting Ö very Ö angry." -- Bill Bixby, attended Cal ... No. 13 Portland State (23-9) "I like basketball. I remember one time Hef took me to a Lakers game and all of a sudden I was like: 'Hef, I don't see any baskets! It's just some netting connected to a metal circle. They should call it netting-and-metal-circle-ball.' And Kendra was like: 'Straight up, yo!' Ohmigod, it was so funny." -- Holly Madison, Hugh Hefner's one-time girlfriend on "Girls Next Door," attended Portland State ... No. 6 UCLA (25-8) "What? Screw Siena. Go Bruins!" -- Mariska Hargitay, plays Det. Olivia Benson on "Law & Order: SVU," attended UCLA

More found here.

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March 11, 2009

The new "Urkel"

Received via email:

the new urkel.jpg

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February 24, 2009

Quote of the day

And it's from the Daily Gut:

So the trailer to Quentin Tarantino's latest flick is out, and get this: dismemberment plays a starring role.

No surprise here. Body parts are to Tarantino what clothes are to Kate Winslet - an irritating barrier to plot development that must be removed immediately.

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February 11, 2009

The aging of our presidents

Received via email:

Much has been said about the aging of the President of the United States during their terms in office. Below are just a few examples (pictures on the left were taken their first year in office, pictures on the right were taken during their last year in office):

Ronald Reagan

reaganage.jpg

Bill Clinton

clintonage.jpg

George W. Bush

bushage.jpg


And now with state of the art computer imaging software, we can look into the future and see what our next potential president will look like after his term in office:

obamaage.jpg

and even his wife.....Michelle

michelleage2.jpg

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January 31, 2009

Worth 1000 words

Nobody does it better than Iowahawk, not even that pissy little 007.

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January 24, 2009

Lost recap

I love the show, but this "parody" of a roundup is far too close to the actual thing.

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January 21, 2009

Obamalot!

A weak effort, but I don't feel all that inspired right now.
=======================================


OBAMA:

It's true! It's true! The voters have made it clear.
The One will be perfect throughout the year.

An election was held some moons ago here.
Our new President is dreamily hot.
And there's no legal limit to the spending here
In Obamalot.


Republicans are forbidden forever
And quake in their minority lot
By order, they run to wherever
In Obamalot.

Obamalot! Obamalot!

The world begins to heal
But in Obamalot, Obamalot
All will be forced to kneel.

Harry Reid may never fail while in session.
By dawn, the veto threat must disappear.
In short, the taxes rise
and the spendings rise
In the socialist-ever-aftering here
In Obamalot.

Obamalot! Obamalot!
I know Joe Biden's a dunce,
But in Obamalot, Obamalot,
He'll never be president once.
Pelosi may never say an intelligent thing.
By noon, all taxes are in arrears.
In short, the taxes rise
and the spendings rise
In the socialist-ever-aftering here
In Obamalot.

To be fair, I hear that Obamalot is absolutely swimming with unicorns and magic ponies.

The first 100 days will give me an idea whether or not to wait it out, or commence relentless mocking. I will acknowledge that I love mocking and chastising politicians of all stripes, so I'm leaning towards the latter. However, I'm not in a particularly bad mood, so we'll see what happens.

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December 22, 2008

A heart-warming Christmas story (repost)

My Christmas Story

Late last week, I was rushing around trying to get some last minute shopping
done. I was stressed out and not thinking very fondly of the Christmas
season right then. It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking lot as I was
loading my car up with gifts that I felt obligated to buy. I noticed that I
was missing a receipt that I might need later. So mumbling under my breath,
I retraced my steps to the mall entrance.

As I was searching the wet pavement for the lost receipt, I heard a quiet
sobbing. The crying was coming from a poorly dressed boy of about 12 years
old. He was short and thin. He had no coat. He was just wearing a ragged
flannel shirt to protect him from the cold night's chill. Oddly enough, he
was holding a hundred dollar bill in his hand. Thinking that he had gotten
lost from his parents, I asked him what was wrong.

He told me his sad story. He said that he came from a large family. He had
three brothers and two sisters. His father had died when he was nine years
old. His mother was poorly educated and worked two full time jobs. She made
very little to support her large family. Nevertheless, she had managed to
save two hundred dollars to buy her children Christmas presents. The young
boy had been dropped off on the way to her second job. He was to use the
money to buy presents for all his siblings and save just enough to take
the bus home.

He had not even entered the mall, when an older boy grabbed one of the
hundred dollar bills and disappeared into the night.

"Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked. The boy said, "I did." "And
nobody came to help you?" I wondered. The boy stared at the sidewalk and
sadly shook his head. "How loud did you scream?" I inquired. The soft-spoken
boy looked up and meekly whispered, "Help me!"

I realized that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry
forhelp.

So, I grabbed his other hundred and ran to my car.

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The X-mas files (repost)

Don't think of it as leftovers. Instead, think of it as a rerun of a dearly beloved holiday classic.

===========================================


57 ELM STREET BETHLEHEM, PA. 11:51 P.M., DECEMBER 24TH

Mulder: We're too late. It's already been here.

Scully: Mulder, I hope you know what you are doing.

Mulder: Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas fir, truncated, mounted, transformed into some sort of shrine; halls decked with boughs of holly; stockings hung by the chimney, with care.

Scully: You really think someone's been here?

Mulder: Someone or some THING.

Scully: Mulder, over here -- it's fruitcake.

Mulder: Don't touch it! Those things can be lethal.

Scully: It's O.K. There's a note attached: "Gonna find out who's naughty and nice."

Mulder: It's judging them, Scully. It's making a list.

Scully: Who? What are you talking about?

Mulder: Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity who could travel at great speed in a craft powered by antlered servants. Once each year, near the winter solstice, this creature is said to descend from the heavens to reward its followers and punish its disbelievers with jagged chunks of anthracite.

Scully: But that's legend, Mulder -- a story told by parents to frighten children. Surely, you don't believe it?

Mulder: Something was here tonite, Scully. Check out the bite marks on this gingerbread man. Whatever tore through this plate of cookies was massive -- and in a hurry.

Scully: It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder, this milk glass has been completely drained.

Mulder: It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without remorse.

Scully: But why would they leave it milk and cookies?

Mulder: Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can stop its wilding.

Scully: But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The doors and windows were locked. There's no sign of forced entry.

Mulder: Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace.

Scully: Wait a minute, Mulder. If you are saying some huge creature landed on the roof and came down the chimney, you're crazy. The flue is barely six inches wide. Nothing could get through there.

Mulder: But what if it could alter its shape, move in all directions.

Scully: You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?

Mulder: Exactly. Scully, I've never told anyone this, but when I was a child my home was visited. I saw the creature. It had long white strips of fur surrounding its ruddy, misshapen head. Its bloated torso was red and white. I'll never forget the horror. I turned away, and when I looked back it had somehow taken on the facial features of my father.

Scully: Impossible.

Mulder: I know what I saw. And that night it read my mind. It brought me a Mr. Potato Head, Scully. IT KNEW I WANTED A MR. POTATO HEAD.

Scully: I'm sorry, Mulder, but you're asking me to disregard the laws of physics. You want me to believe in some supernatural being who soars across the skies and brings gifts to good little girls and boys. Listen to what you are saying. Do you understand the repercussions? If this gets out, they'll close the X-files.

Mulder: Scully, listen to me: It knows when you are sleeping. It knows when you're awake.

Scully: But we have no proof.

Mulder: Last year, on this exact date, S.E.T.I. radio telescopes detected bogeys in the airspace over twenty-seven states. The White House ordered a Condition Red.

Scully: But that was a meteor shower.

Mulder: Officially. Two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian reindeer vanished from the National Zoo in Washington, D.C. Nobody - not even the zookeeper - was told about it. The government doesn't want people to know about Project Kringle. They fear that if this thing is proved to exist, then the public would stop spending half its annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy. Retail markets will collapse. Scully,they cannot let the world believe this creature lives. There's too much at stake. They'll do whatever it takes to insure another silent night.

Scully: Mulder, I --

Mulder: Sh-h-h! Do you hear what I hear?

Scully: On the roof. It sounds like . . . a clatter.

Mulder: The truth is up there. Let's see what's the matter.


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And still more holiday images (repost)

Lather, rinse, repost.

santa mexican.jpg

santa_1_.gif

santagrave.jpgxmas22_1.jpg

And here's one that you won't want to see.


santa belly105.jpg

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December 18, 2008

Caught in the act (repost)

Frosty turns out to be a dirty, nasty little grade schooler:


Frosty.bmp

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December 16, 2008

Barbie's letter to Santa (repost)

Don't say that I didn't warn you about the Christmas-time repeats...
===============================

Barbie's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

Listen you fat little troll, I've been helping you out every year,
playing at being the perfect Christmas Present, wearing skimpy bathing
suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many tea
parties, and I hate to break it to ya Santa, but IT'S DEFINITELY PAY
BACK TIME! There had better be some changes around here this Christmas,
or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me, you won't
wanna be around to smell it).

So, here's my holiday wish list for 1998, Santa.

1. A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized sweatshirt.
I'm sick of looking like a hooker. How much smaller are these bathing
suits gonna get? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon
and velcro up your butt?

2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. Preferably white. What
bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to
my skin?!? It looks like cellulite!

3. A REAL man... maybe GI JOE. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that
wimped-out excuse for a boy toy Ken. And what's with that earring anyway?
If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me)
anatomically correct.

4. Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp
away once he is anatomically correct.

5. Breast reduction surgery. I don't care whose arm you have to twist,
just get it done.

6. A jog-bra. To wear until I get the surgery.

7. A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How
about a systems analyst? Or better yet, a public relations senior
account exec!

8. A new, more 90's persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with a
miniature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a
bag of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun,
fitted with a fake fur coat, bottle of spray on blood and handcuffs;
or "Stop Smoking Barbie," sporting a Nicotrol patch and equipped with
several packs of gum.

9. No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl.

10. Mattel stock options. It's been 37 years-I think I deserve it.
Okay Santa, that's it. Considering my valuable contribution to society, I
don't think these requests are out of line. If you disagree, then you can
find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas. It's that simple.

Yours Truly,

Barbie

----------------------------

Ken's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

I understand that one of my colleagues has petitioned you
for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and
career changes. In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging
remarks were made about me, my ability to please, and some of my
fashion choices. I would like to take this opportunity to inform you
of some issues concerning Ms. Barbie, and some of my own needs and
desires.

First of all, I along with several other colleagues feel
Barbie DOES NOT deserve preferential treatment - the bitch has
everything. Along with Joe, Jem, Raggedy Ann & Andy, I DO NOT have
a dream house, corvette, evening gowns, and in some cases the ability
to change our hair style. I personally have only 3 outfits which I am
forced to mix and match at great length.

My decision to accessorize my outfits with an earring was my
decision and reflects my lifestyle choice.

I too would like a change in my career. Have you ever considered
"Decorator Ken", "Beauty Salon Ken", or "Out Of Work Actor Ken"? In
addition, there are several other avenues which could be considered such
as:

"S&M Ken" , "Green Lantern Ken", "Circuit Ken", "Bear Ken", "Master Ken".

These would more accurately reflect my desires and perhaps open up new
markets. And as for Barbie needing bendable arms so she can "push me
away," I need bendable knees so I can kick the bitch to the curb.
Bendable knees would also be helpful for me in other situations - we've
talked about this issue before.

In closing, I would like to point out that any further concessions
to the blond bimbo from hell will result in action be taken by myself and
others. And Barbie can forget about having Joe - he's mine, at least that's
what he said last night.

Sincerely,

Ken

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Everything that you know about Rudolph is wrong

Later, rinse, repost.
================================================

Michele reposted her classic rewrite of one of the holiday season's favorite TV specials. Excerpt:

So what happens? Does Rudolph finally have enough of the bullying and dons a trenchcoat, listens to Marilyn Manson and mows down his enemies? No, Rudolph goes off on an adventure. He escapes his problems instead of confronting them. When you think about it, running away on adventure isn't so bad, as he could have turned to a life on the streets, doing "favors" for old barflys in exchange for salt licks.

I really missed Michele's blogging during her absence. And her post put me in mind to repost an old image:

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December 12, 2008

The average American

A recent study conducted by Harvard University found that the average American walks about 900 miles a year.

Another study by the American Medical Association found that Americans drink, on average, 22 gallons of alcohol a year.

This means, on average, Americans get about 41 miles to the gallon.

Kind Of Makes You Proud To Be An American.

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December 02, 2008

Request: night before Christmas Star Trek parody?

I posted this last year and got no takers. Perhaps someone can help me out of my misery this year.
===========================

To any and all who read this: last weekend while out and about, I heard a bit on the radio which I supposed could be called "The Shatner Before Christmas". Actually, I don't know what it was named, I'm just guessing. Anyway, it was a comedian spoofing Shatner's inimitable delivery doing a Star Trek: TOS version of The Night Before Christmas. I've searched around the Intertubes and haven't been able to find the audio yet in any format. Here are some particulars of the bit:

  • "Kirk" does the whole narration, mentioningg Uhura, Spock and Bones by name
  • Klingon C(K?)laus makes an appearance
  • Kirk's gift is "a girdle with a message that said 'Just your size'"
  • Kirk then blows Klingon Claus to smithereens with photon torpedoes

No, I can't remember which radio station I was listening to, as I was busy trying to avoid commercials. If I knew which station it was, I could call the station and ask. Anyway, has anyone else heard this? More to the point, does anyone know what it's actually called and where I can find it?

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December 01, 2008

Time for some holiday classics

Raging Rudolph and The Reinfather. Videos embedded below the fold.


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November 26, 2008

I do not think that means what you think it means

Little Tony was staying with his grandmother for a few days. He'd been playing outside with the other kids for a while when he came into the house and asked her, "Grandma, what's that called when two people sleep in the same room and one is on top of the other?"

She was a little taken back, but decided to just tell him the truth. " It's call sexual intercourse, darling."

Little Tony just said, "Oh, OK," and went back outside to play with the other kids. a Few minutes later he came back in and said angrily, "Grandma it isn't called sexual intercourse. It's call Bunk Beds, and Jimmy's mommy wants to talk to you!

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A Thanksgiving message

Received via email:

"I have never understood why anyone would roast the turkey and shuck the clams and crisp the croutons and shell the peas and candy thesweets and compote the cranberries and bake the pies and clear the table and wash the dishes and fall into bed exhausted when they could just as easily sit back and enjoy a hamburger or a pork sandwich."

- The Turkey

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November 19, 2008

I can die happy now

Monty Python has launched its own official YouTube channel. Excerpt:

For 3 years you YouTubers have been ripping us off, taking tens of thousands of our videos and putting them on YouTube. Now the tables are turned. It's time for us to take matters into our own hands.

We know who you are, we know where you live and we could come after you in ways too horrible to tell. But being the extraordinarily nice chaps we are, we've figured a better way to get our own back: We've launched our own Monty Python channel on YouTube.

No more of those crap quality videos you've been posting. We're giving you the real thing - HQ videos delivered straight from our vault.

What's more, we're taking our most viewed clips and uploading brand new HQ versions. And what's even more, we're letting you see absolutely everything for free. So there!

But we want something in return.

None of your driveling, mindless comments. Instead, we want you to click on the links, buy our movies & TV shows and soften our pain and disgust at being ripped off all these years.

Time to finish with one of my all time favorites below the fold.

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November 17, 2008

The Cameron Column #1(#57 reprinted): The Thanksgiving Turkey

If you've never read any of Bruce Cameron's articles, you've been missing out. He stopped writing for a while, restarted and then stopped again. Maybe he finally ran out of ideas. In any event, here is his Thanksgiving column circa 1998.
==================================================

Like many men, I am different from my wife in ways which are noticeable, and, in my opinion, fortunate.

Take the Thanksgiving turkey (and I mean that literally. PLEASE come over to our house, open the refrigerator, shove aside everything growing green fuzz, and take this carcass away before it reincarnates as turkey lasagna or turkey tetracycline or whatever new concoction awaits the family.) But take Thanksgiving--my wife prefers small birds that fit nicely into the roasting pan and which can be cooked in a few hours.

"Ha!" I can be quoted as sneering. I trace my own gender lineage to that proud, hairy group of hunter-gatherers who, prior to the invention of TV remote control, would pick up their spears, huddle, and then go out and pull down a huge bison for dinner, stopping at the bar on the way home for a couple of cave brews. So when I go to the store for a turkey, I find a TURKEY: a mammoth, many-pound fowl with drum sticks as large as my thighs and wings you could park a car under.

Words cannot describe the delight on my wife's face when my neighbors help me carry the bird into the refrigerator, where, following the instructions, it is left to thaw for a period of six months. (My wife often has several interesting but impractical suggestions on where else we might stick the turkey for this thawing procedure.) Cooking begins around Halloween, a slow roasting process which varies from my mother's recipe in that there are no flames or threats of divorce "if anybody says a word about how the turkey tastes."

I enjoy every step of turkey preparation, particularly since I am not involved in any of it. Well, that's not entirely true--at one point, I am asked to reach into the mouth of the turkey and retrieve the giblets, which turns out to be a bag of what looks like pieces of Jimmy Hoffa. (I realize I am not, technically speaking, putting my hand in the bird's "mouth," but I'd rather not dwell on what this means.) How the turkey manages to swallow this stuff in the first place is beyond me. Traditionally, we open this bag, dump the contents into a pan of water, and boil the results. Only the cat is happy about this development.

As wonderful as this all is, by the fourth or fifth night my appetite for turkey variations has waned, and I provide valuable feedback to my wife by making gagging noises at dinner time. Her verbal (as opposed to projectile) response to this is to imply that it is somehow MY fault we have so many leftovers, to which I logically reply, "hey, YOU cooked it."

Now, before you men out there become too smug with how adroitly I out maneuvered her with my quick retort, you should be advised that she STILL blames me for our turkey-induced bulimia. Therefore I appeal to my readership: has anyone else noticed bizarre psychiatric reactions to turkey consumption which might explain this whole controversy? Please advise via return e-mail, which will be picked up by the crack WBC technical team and, judging by previous results, forwarded to the Governor of New Jersey.

Thanks... oh, and Happy Thanksgiving too.

The Cameron Column, A Free Internet Newsletter
Copyright W. Bruce Cameron 1998
================================================

Update: My bad. I used to be on his mailing list; not sure why I'm not now. In any event, Bruce Cameron appears to have been writing up a storm. You can find his stuff here, including my all-time favorite column.

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Spicing up Thanksgiving dinner

Why yes, I did post this last year. Thanks for asking
=========================================

Here is a new way to prepare your Thanksgiving or Christmas Turkey.

1. Cut out aluminum foil in desired shapes.
2. Arrange the turkey in the roasting pan, position the foil carefully (see
attached)
3. Roast according to your own recipes and serve.
4. Watch your guests' faces.

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November 14, 2008

How to cook a turkey

Reposted from last year.

=====================
This has been making its way around the Internet since 1500 B.C., even though the first computer still hadn't been manufactured yet. However, if there's one thing that you can count on me for, it's recycling the stalest holiday humor you've ever seen between now and the New Year.
---------------------------------------------------
HOW TO COOK A TURKEY

Step 1: Go buy a turkey

Step 2: Take a drink of whiskey, scotch, or JD

Step 3: Put turkey in the oven

Step 4: Take another 2 drinks of whiskey

Step 5: Set the degree at 375 ovens

Step 6: Take 3 more whiskeys of drink

Step 7: Turn oven the on

Step 8: Take 4 whisks of drinky

Step 9: Turk the bastey

Step 10: Whiskey another bottle of get

Step 11: Stick a turkey in the thermometer

Step 12: Glass yourself a pour of whiskey

Step 13: Bake the whiskey for 4 hours

Step 14: Take the oven out of the turkey

Step 15: Take the oven out of the turkey

Step 16: Floor the turkey up off the pick

Step 17: Turk the carvey

Step 18: Get yourself another scottle of botch

Step 19: Tet the sable and pour yourself a glass of turkey(Ed. note: this didn't used to be possible)
Update: More on this here.

Step 20: Bless the saying, pass and eat out

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A special Thanksgiving Day message

Reposted from last year. Expect more of this as the year winds to a close.
======================================

You might remember this special holiday image from last year. This time, I won't hide it in the extended entry.


piece of me.jpg


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November 12, 2008

Special holiday music

Looking for a different kind of holiday music? Look here for the Carol of the Old Ones. Excerpt:

Look to the sky, way up on high
There in the night stars are now right.
Eons have passed: now then at last
Prison walls break, Old Ones awake!
They will return: mankind will learn
New kinds of fear when they are here.
They will reclaim all in their name;
Hopes turn to black when they come back.
Ignorant fools, mankind now rules
Where they ruled then: it's theirs again

Stars brightly burning, boiling and churning
Bode a returning season of doom

Scary scary scary scary solstice
Very very very scary solstice

I still don't know why anyone voted for the lesser evil on November 4. Just imagine the debates between Cthulu, McCain and Obama. Of course, they'd have been cut short when the Old One used its tentacles to rend the other two limb from limb, but just think of the possibilities.

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October 31, 2008

Bring on the funny

John Scalzi has a series of election-related posts up. I'll excerpt from #4, just to whet your appetite:

Election List IV: The Things I Think About As I Stare At This Picture of Joe Biden

1. It looks like doll hair.

2. Men shouldnít botox.
...

10. It still looks like doll hair.

There's so much more relish. Go and laugh your ass off.

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Halloween humor?

I still get a great kick out this video:

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October 30, 2008

Wanna see something really scary?

Halloween images: some funny, some sick, most both. Some most definitely not safe for work, so be careful before you click.

Penis Man

Vagina man

Priestly fun

Sweet thing

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Halloween images (repost)

Updated for this election season.
===============================================

drunk pumpkin.jpg

Don't overindulge this Halloween.

ghosts.jpg

"Uh, good evening Mr. Reynolds. Trick or treat?"

HALLOWEEN2000.jpg

Self-hating dogs for Glenn.

HALLOWEEN FLASHERS.jpg

Newly registered Democrat voters in Ohio display their support for Obama.

halloween_1.jpg

The future of Happy Meals if Glenn Reynolds has his way.

halloweencat.jpg

"Who's your daddy now, beeyatch?"

HappyHalloween.jpg

No Halloween would be complete without a visit from our special friend, Seymour Butz.

pic00153.jpg

And the Puppy Blender's sphere of influence continues to grow.

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October 28, 2008

A socialist Halloween

dem halloween.jpg

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October 27, 2008

Seasonal math humor

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Still more Halloween images

Lather, rinse, repost.
======================================
dr jekyll and mrs hyde.bmp


family reunion.bmp


low carb.bmp


merry thanksgivoween.bmp


peter peter.bmp


who died.bmp

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Halloween humor (images)

baby ruth.bmpanger management.bmp


bed webber.bmpcant take it.bmp

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Halloween humor (repost)

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful:

A man was walking home alone late one foggy night, when behind him he hears:

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

Walking faster, he looks back and through the fog he makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street toward him.

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

Terrified, the man begins to run toward his home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.

FASTER...

FASTER...

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, rushes in, slams and locks the door behind him.

However, the casket crashes through his door, with the lid of the casket clapping

clappity-BUMP...

clappity-BUMP...

clappity-BUMP...

on his heels, the terrified man runs.

Rushing upstairs to the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.

With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door. Bumping and clapping toward him.

The man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup! Desperate, he throws the cough syrup at the casket...

and...

the coffin stops.

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October 22, 2008

Biden: in his own words

Courtesy of Iowahawk. Excerpt:

"But I promise you, if one of these inevitable nuclear attacks is, God forbid, successful, Barack Obama and I will conduct tough and open negotiations with our new overlords," said Biden. "Ol' Joe Biden learned how to negotiate at his dad's used car lot in Scranton PA, and if these overlords think they can swing some sort of lowball occupation deal, I'll just tell them 'I gotta go get my manager,' and then... boo-yeah! In comes Barack Obama to upsell them undercoating and extra exercise yard privileges for you and me."

After rubbing tapioca into his armpits and singing what appeared to be the Numa-Numa song, Biden mounted a Segway and crashed through a side door.

A spokesman for the Obama-Biden campaign later clarified the Senator's remarks, and urged reporters "not to take Senator Biden's words out of context."

When asked what context that was, the spokesman explained that "the Senator has massive brain damage."

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October 20, 2008

Political action

Actually, I originally posted this about feeling stressed at work. In any event, it seems awfully appropriate during this heated election cycle.
===============================================

How to handle political conflicts.

fight.gif

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13 Reasons Not To Drink With Friends

If you went to college and overindulged at least once or twice, you probably discovered how much your friends treasure you. And by treasure, I mean discovered how much they like to screw with you while passed out. From my mother, of all people, comes the photographic evidence of 13 Reasons Not To Drink With Friends:


drinking1.jpg

drinking2.jpg

drink3.jpg

drink4.jpg

drink5.jpg

drink6.jpg

drink7.jpg

drink8.jpg

drink9.jpg

drinnk10.jpg

drink11.jpg

drink12.jpg

And the #1 reason not to drink with friends:

drink13.jpg


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October 16, 2008

Wanna see something really scary?

Look at the image below the fold:

dog
see more puppies

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October 06, 2008

Liquidity of assets

Sure, you've already seen this everywhere else. I'm simply filling the gap by placing it here on this blog as well.
==========================================

If you had purchased $1,000 of shares in Delta Airlines one year ago, you will have $49.00 today. If you had purchased $1,000 of shares in AIG one year ago, you will have $33.00 today. If you had purchased $1,000 of shares in Lehman Brothers one year ago, you will have $0.00 today. But, if you had purchased $1,000 worth of beer one year ago, drank all the beer, then turned in the aluminum cans for recycling refund, you will have received $214.00. Based on the above, the best current investment plan is to drink heavily & recycle.

It is called the 401-Keg.

A recent study found that the average American walks about 900 miles a year. Another study found that Americans drink, on average, 22 gallons of alcohol a year. That means that, on average, Americans get about 41 miles to the gallon!

Makes you proud to be an American!

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October 02, 2008

Playoff brackets

September madness.jpg

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September 25, 2008

Required reading

I am truly in awe of what Iowahawk manages to do on a regular basis. If Mother Jones syndicated his column, I would subscribe to the commie pinko rag, just to get my fix. Excerpt:

DAVE BURGE, IOWAHAWK

Linda, we both know that credit is the lifeblood of the American economy. But today millions of Americans like myself are saddled with enormous adjustable rate mortgage debt which we can no longer pay, through no fault of our own. We were suckered in by deceptive easy-money advertising come-ons, confusing refinance deals, and free igloo coolers. And now, with a slowdown in the blog economy, some of us can barely make the payments on our quad-runners, let alone a crushing $1.2 million debt on a house that our appraiser says is worth $40,000 in scrap lumber, tops. America's economic future depends on us having the peace of mind to know our homes and 56" 1080 HD big screens won't be yanked from under us. That's why I oppose the proposed bailouts being discussed in Congress. Instead of paying trillions to Wall Street insiders and corporate fatcats, shouldn't Congress be targeting those trillions directly to needy Americans like me?

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September 18, 2008

Important announcement

Don't forget that September 19 is International Talk Like a Pirate Day.

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September 04, 2008

Back to politics

And humor. Sweet, delicious, wicked humor.

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August 18, 2008

I kind of thought that I'd be a Yugo

But I'll take what I got.

I'm a Chevrolet Corvette!



You're a classic - powerful, athletic, and competitive. You're all about winning the race and getting the job done. While you have a practical everyday side, you get wild when anyone pushes your pedal. You hate to lose, but you hardly ever do.


Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.


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August 13, 2008

Sure, it's old

But it makes me laugh. Check out the Ultimate Showdown below the fold:

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August 11, 2008

If you don't understand this, you probably had sex during your college years

From Xkcd:

sudo sandwich.png

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August 04, 2008

I'm going to Hell

Watch the video here and laugh at the completely inappropriate humor. It is just so wrong on so many levels. But I'm still laughing 10 minutes later, which does not bode well for my future in the afterlife.

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NASA confirms water on Mars

Pretty cool:

WaterOnMars2_gcc.jpg

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July 31, 2008

Thursday funny

Megan McArdle links to one of the funniest things I've seen in a while. Video below the fold:

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July 30, 2008

Music to relax by

All you musical types should look at the sheet music below and see if you can hum it to yourself:

gif-prelude.gif

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July 10, 2008

A candidate for everyone


Thanks to Misha for the "vote".

Hey, he's the Emperor, but there's always room for a President. Right?

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July 09, 2008

Looks like bedtime after burrito night

This video is presented purely as a follow up to my last post:


Okay, that's a lie: I posted it because I'm a disgusting person who loves potty humor.

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Bad dates

I have been on a grand total of one blind date in my entire life. What happens in the video below would have been far preferable. It's below the fold to keep from locking up your system.

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June 30, 2008

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful

Found the image below via the lovely and talented Rachel Lucas. I sent it to every woman I know. They are all somewhat less fond of me today.

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June 05, 2008

Paris trip

Received via email. Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.
=================================================

A thief in Paris planned to steal some paintings from the Louvre.

Louvre.jpg

After careful planning, he got past security, stole the paintings, and made it safely to his van.

However, he was captured only two blocks away when his van ran out of gas.

When asked how he could mastermind such a crime and then make such an obvious error, he replied,


'Monsieur, that is the reason I stole the paintings.'

Monet.jpg

' I had no Monet


Degas.gif

to buy Degas


Van Gogh.jpg

to make the Van Gogh.'

De Gaulle.jpg

See if you have De Gaulle to send this on to someone else.


Toulouse.jpg

I sent it to you because I figured I had nothing Toulouse .

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April 30, 2008

You keep using those words

Received via email:

Here are 12 of the finest double-entendres aired on TV & Radio, some familiar but all the better for being collated into a handy package . . .
  1. Pat Glenn, weightlifting commentator - 'And this is Gregoriava from Bulgaria. I saw her snatch this morning and it was amazing!'
  2. New Zealand Rugby Commentator - 'Andrew Mehrtens loves it when Daryl Gibson comes inside of him.'
  3. Ted Walsh - Horse Racing Commentator - 'This is really a lovely horse. I once rode her mother.'
  4. Harry Carpenter at the Oxford-Cambridge boat race 1977 - 'Ah, isn't that nice. The wife of the Cambridge President is kissing the Cox of the Oxford crew.'
  5. US PGA Commentator - 'One of the reasons Arnie (Arnold Palmer) is playing so well is that, before each tee shot, his wife takes out his balls and kisses them ..... Oh my god!!!!! What have I just said?!!!!'
  6. Carenza Lewis about finding food in the Middle Ages on 'Time Team Live' said: 'You'd eat beaver if you could get it.'
  7. A female news anchor who, the day after it was supposed to have snowed and didn't, turned to the weatherman and asked, 'So Bob, where's that eight inches you promised me last night?' Not only did HE have to leave the set, but half the crew did too, because they were laughing so hard!
  8. Steve Ryder covering the US Masters: 'Ballesteros felt much better today after a 69 yesterday.'
  9. Clair Frisby talking about a jumbo hot dog on Look North said: 'There's nothing like a big hot sausage inside you on a cold night like this.'
  10. Mike Hallett discussing missed snooker shots on Sky Sports: 'Stephen Hendry jumps on Steve Davis's misses every chance he gets.'
  11. Michael Buerk on watching Phillipa Forrester cuddle up to a male astronomer for warmth during BBC1's UK eclipse coverage remarked: 'They seem cold out there, they're rubbing each other and he's only come in his shorts.'
  12. Ken Brown commentating on golfer Nick Faldo and his caddie Fanny Sunneson lining-up shots at the Scottish Open: 'Some weeks Nick likes to use Fanny, other weeks he prefers to do it by himself.'

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April 29, 2008

Daily Roger Clemens bashing

In honor of the recent disclosure about Clemens' past, I submit the following:

Roger Clemens, disguised in sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat, snuck into the hotel. When he opened the door to his room, he saw that his girlfriend was packing her suitcase.

"What are you doing?, he asked.

"I'm leaving you,", she replied. "I just found out that you're a pedophile."

"Pedophile, eh? That's a mighty big word for an eight year old."

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April 24, 2008

Old secret

More ancient than Calgon

A young man is wandering, lost, in a forest when he comes upon a small house. Knocking on the door he is greeted by an ancient Chinese man with a long gray beard.

"I'm lost," says the man. "Can you put me up for the night?" "Certainly",' the Chinese man says, "but on one condition." "If you so much as lay a finger on my daughter I will inflict upon you the three worst Chinese tortures known to man'". "OK," the man replies, and enters the house.

Over dinner, the daughter comes down the stairs. She is young and beautiful, with a fantastic body. She is obviously attracted to the young man and can't keep her eyes off him during the meal. Remembering the old man's warning, he ignores her and goes up to bed alone. During the night he can bear it no longer and sneaks into her room for a night of passion. He is careful to keep everything quiet so the old man wouldn't hear and, near dawn, he creeps back to his room, exhausted but happy.

He wakes to feel a pressure on his chest. Opening his eyes, he sees a large rock on his chest with a note on it that reads: "Chinese Torture 1....Large rock on chest.".

"Well, that's pretty crappy," he thinks. 'If that's the best the old man can do then I don't have much to worry about." He picks the boulder up, walks over to the window and throws the boulder out. As he does,he notices another note on it that reads: "Chinese Torture 2: Rock tied to left testicle." In a panic he glances down and sees the rope, getting very close to taut.

Figuring that a few broken bones is better than castration, he jumps out of the window after the boulder. Plummeting towards the ground, he sees a large sign on the ground that reads, "Chinese Torture 3....Right testicle tied to bed post."

See, it's true: too much unprotected sex can kill you.

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April 23, 2008

The moral of the story?

It Depends

Received via email:



One night, at the lodge of a hunting club, two new members were being introduced to other members and shown around. The man leading them around said, "See that old man asleep in the chair by the fireplace? He is our oldest member and can tell you some hunting stories you'll never forget." They awakened the old man and asked him to tell them a hunting story.

"Well, I remember back in 1944, we went on a lion hunting exposition in Africa. We were on foot and hunted for three days without seeing a thing. On the fourth day, I was so tired I had to rest my feet. I found a fallen tree, so I laid my gun down, propped my head on the tree, and fell asleep. I don't know how long I was asleep when I was awakened by a noise in the bushes. I was reaching for my gun when the biggest lion I ever seen jumped out of the bushes at me like this, ROOOAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!....... I tell you, I just shit my pants."

The young men looked astonished and one of them said, "I don't blame you, I would have shit my pants too if a lion jumped out at me."

The old man shook his head and said, "No, no, not then, just now when I said ROOOAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!"


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Good thing that Iowahawk exists

Otherwise, we'd have to invent him

Check out this masterpiece from Iowahawk.

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April 21, 2008

There was a young man named Dave...

5 people crash land on a island in the middle of the ocean. There are 4 men and one woman.

The men constantly fight over who gets the one woman, so they decide they will switch who her "husband" is every week. Everything works out fine and they are all happy.

10 years later, the woman dies.

1st day: Things really aren't to bad
2nd day: Somethings missing, but it's still alright
3rd day: Now things are starting to get not so fun
4th day: It's starting to get really bad.
5th day: Really.....really bad.
6th day: Absolutely horrible.
7th day: They bury her.

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April 16, 2008

I wonder what the modern Democrat will end up as?

Believe in evolution? Oh sure, there is a lot of evidence to the contrary. How else do you explain the success and/or popularity of Carrot Top or Keith Olbermann? Okay, that isn't really a fair comparison. To Carrot Top. Anyway, Cracked.com reviews what happens when nature decides to replace aggression with passivity and intellgence with Keith Olbermann.

Damn. I did it again. Oh well, excerpt:

#4.Smilodons (Sabre-Toothed Tigers)

Used to be ...
Anyone who has seen 10,000 BC (and escaped with their IQ intact) knows about Smilodons. With eight-inch blade-like teeth, these cats were the top predators of the late Pliestocine, and were the last dominant predators before our ancestors came along. They traveled in packs, the sight of which would make our ancestors crap their pants from miles away.
...
The Crappy Evolutionary Spin-off:
You're probably thinking tigers here, but actually marsupials are all that is left of the classic Sabre-Tooth Cat (the felines were another branch on the evolutionary tree) so, sadly, the closest genetic connection remains adorable Koala Bears, Kangaroos and Opossums. The most common of these is the Opossum, most often seen in their natural habitat (the local freeway) in their instinctive 'bloody smear along the road' stance.
...
Though there is one marsupial still holding its ground: the Tasmanian Devil. The usual response to a natural sighting of these godless killing machines tends to be "HOLY SHIT A TASMANIAN DEVIL LET'S GET THE HELL OUT OF HE-(screams of agony)." It feasts on the dead and dying and leaves nothing but crushed bone and echoes of blood-curdling screams in its path.

I recently explained to my son that the Tasmanian Devil was real, although it in no way resembled the funny, stupid critter he had seen on Bugs Bunny.

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April 14, 2008

Sports, video games and humor

Oh, how they mix! Check the video below the fold: WNBA 2008 Live.

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April 10, 2008

You can be anybody on the Internet

Case in point is the poster below the fold:

misrepresentation.jpeg

Yeah, my eyes are burning right now, too.

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April 07, 2008

When life hands you lemons

Repost and old, stupid joke:

A man was walking across the road when he met the accident. The impact was on his head which caused him to be comatosed for two days before he finally regained consciousness. When open his eyes, his wife was there beside him.

He held her hands and said meaningfully : "You have always been beside me. When I was a struggling university student, I failed again and again. And sometimes, even my re-papers as well. You were always there beside me, encouraging me to go on trying.."

She squeezed his hands as he continued :"When I went for all the major interviews and failed to clinch any of the jobs, you were there beside me, cutting out more adverts for me to apply..."

He continued "Then I started work at this little firm and finally got to handle a big contract. I blew it because of one little mistake. And you were there beside me."

Then I finally got another job after being laid off for sometime. But I never seem to be promoted and my hard work was not recognised. As such, I remained in the same position from the day I join the company till now...And you were there beside me."

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she listened to her husband :"And now I met an accident and when I woke up, you are here beside me........There's something I'd really like to say to you..."

She flung herself on the bed to hug her husband, and sobbing with emotion.

He said..., " I think you really bring me bad luck.."

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April 01, 2008

The future?

Well, this video shows a possible alternate future. Kind of problematical for someone in my current profession, but maybe I can become a CPA.

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And now for the first baby steps

So Frank J. and Jonah Goldberg imagine a world without politicians. Pretty funny stuff.

Kudos to Frank J. on his first byline, albeit one shared with Mr. Goldberg.

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My kind of guys

Now this is a prank:

Link via Neal Boortz.

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March 04, 2008

The ideal presidential candidate

32 years ago, this nation was forced to choose between Howdy Doody and the liberal wing of the GOP. Faced with the rock and the hard place, many in the nation went a different route altogether, supporting the longshot candidacy of a short, cigar chomping, no nonsense sort of a guy. Okay, maybe "guy" is stretching the truth a bit. It's time for the All Night Party candidate to get down again.

For you poor children too young to remember the campaign, but not old enough to have forgotten this abomination, I offer this little link as backstory to the whole thing.

howardtheduckforprez.JPG

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January 25, 2008

European alert status

Received via email:
========================================


The British are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats and have raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved". Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross". Londoners have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz began in 1940 and tea supplies all but ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to "A Bloody Nuisance". The last time the British issued "A Bloody Nuisance" warning level was during the great fire of 1666.

Also, the French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide". The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender". The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability.

It's not only the British and French who are on a heightened level of alert. Italy has increased the! alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing". Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides".

The Germans also increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniforms and Sing Marching Songs." They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbor" and "Lose".

Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual, and the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels .

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.


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January 17, 2008

One upmanship in science

Received via email this morning:

After having dug to a depth of 20 meters last year, English scientists found traces of copper wire dating back over 200 years and came to the conclusion that their ancestors already had a telephone network 200 years ago.

Not to be outdone by the English, in the weeks that followed, Scottish scientists dug to a depth of 30 meters, and shortly after, headlines in the UK newspapers read: 'Scottish archaeologists have found traces of 300 year old copper wire and have concluded that their ancestors already had an advanced high-tech communications network a hundred years earlier than the English.'

One week later, The Daily Jigger, an Irish newspaper, reported the following: 'After digging as deep as 40 meters, Paddy McMahon, a self taught archaeologist, reported that he found absolutely nothing'.

Paddy has therefore concluded that 400 years ago Ireland had already gone wireless.

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January 15, 2008

Or gettin' caught in a hooker that turns out to be your wife?

The title of this post is the followup to the title of Kate's post. I might have misremembered the lyrics a bit.

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December 20, 2007

I'll burn for this

I laughed out loud at this article over at Cracked. Excerpt:

According to legend, the Wise Men asked La Befana to accompany them to see the infant Jesus. She refused, saying she was too busy. Now there's a lady who doesn't want anyone to get the wrong impression about her.
WISEMAN No. 1 We're going to see the Baby Jesus be born this very eve.

BELFANA
I have a boyfriend.

WISEMAN No. 2
That's just fantastic. Would you like to come see the birth of Jesus?

BELFANA
He's as big as 10 wagons.

WISEMAN No. 3
That sounds nice. Would you like to watch the birth of God?

BELFANA sprays pepper spray in the Wisemen's faces, slams door.

After missing the wondrous sight of his birth, Belfana goes from house to house each year, leaving gifts and looking for the Christ child. Someone should tip her off that J.C. was last spotted in Brazil, being fought over like a fumbled football on top of a speeding train.

Update: There's even an article that Steve would like: Christopher Walken's Twelve Days of Christmas.

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December 18, 2007

A heart-warming Christmas story

I got nuthin'. Sue me.
===============================================

My Christmas Story

Late last week, I was rushing around trying to get some last minute shopping
done. I was stressed out and not thinking very fondly of the Christmas
season right then. It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking lot as I was
loading my car up with gifts that I felt obligated to buy. I noticed that I
was missing a receipt that I might need later. So mumbling under my breath,
I retraced my steps to the mall entrance.

As I was searching the wet pavement for the lost receipt, I heard a quiet
sobbing. The crying was coming from a poorly dressed boy of about 12 years
old. He was short and thin. He had no coat. He was just wearing a ragged
flannel shirt to protect him from the cold night's chill. Oddly enough, he
was holding a hundred dollar bill in his hand. Thinking that he had gotten
lost from his parents, I asked him what was wrong.

He told me his sad story. He said that he came from a large family. He had
three brothers and two sisters. His father had died when he was nine years
old. His mother was poorly educated and worked two full time jobs. She made
very little to support her large family. Nevertheless, she had managed to
save two hundred dollars to buy her children Christmas presents. The young
boy had been dropped off on the way to her second job. He was to use the
money to buy presents for all his siblings and save just enough to take
the bus home.

He had not even entered the mall, when an older boy grabbed one of the
hundred dollar bills and disappeared into the night.

"Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked. The boy said, "I did." "And
nobody came to help you?" I wondered. The boy stared at the sidewalk and
sadly shook his head. "How loud did you scream?" I inquired. The soft-spoken
boy looked up and meekly whispered, "Help me!"

I realized that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry
forhelp.

So, I grabbed his other hundred and ran to my car.

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The X-mas Files

Don't think of it as leftovers. Instead, think of it as a rerun of a dearly beloved holiday classic.

===========================================


57 ELM STREET BETHLEHEM, PA. 11:51 P.M., DECEMBER 24TH

Mulder: We're too late. It's already been here.

Scully: Mulder, I hope you know what you are doing.

Mulder: Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas fir, truncated, mounted, transformed into some sort of shrine; halls decked with boughs of holly; stockings hung by the chimney, with care.

Scully: You really think someone's been here?

Mulder: Someone or some THING.

Scully: Mulder, over here -- it's fruitcake.

Mulder: Don't touch it! Those things can be lethal.

Scully: It's O.K. There's a note attached: "Gonna find out who's naughty and nice."

Mulder: It's judging them, Scully. It's making a list.

Scully: Who? What are you talking about?

Mulder: Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity who could travel at great speed in a craft powered by antlered servants. Once each year, near the winter solstice, this creature is said to descend from the heavens to reward its followers and punish its disbelievers with jagged chunks of anthracite.

Scully: But that's legend, Mulder -- a story told by parents to frighten children. Surely, you don't believe it?

Mulder: Something was here tonite, Scully. Check out the bite marks on this gingerbread man. Whatever tore through this plate of cookies was massive -- and in a hurry.

Scully: It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder, this milk glass has been completely drained.

Mulder: It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without remorse.

Scully: But why would they leave it milk and cookies?

Mulder: Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can stop its wilding.

Scully: But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The doors and windows were locked. There's no sign of forced entry.

Mulder: Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace.

Scully: Wait a minute, Mulder. If you are saying some huge creature landed on the roof and came down the chimney, you're crazy. The flue is barely six inches wide. Nothing could get through there.

Mulder: But what if it could alter its shape, move in all directions.

Scully: You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?

Mulder: Exactly. Scully, I've never told anyone this, but when I was a child my home was visited. I saw the creature. It had long white strips of fur surrounding its ruddy, misshapen head. Its bloated torso was red and white. I'll never forget the horror. I turned away, and when I looked back it had somehow taken on the facial features of my father.

Scully: Impossible.

Mulder: I know what I saw. And that night it read my mind. It brought me a Mr. Potato Head, Scully. IT KNEW I WANTED A MR. POTATO HEAD.

Scully: I'm sorry, Mulder, but you're asking me to disregard the laws of physics. You want me to believe in some supernatural being who soars across the skies and brings gifts to good little girls and boys. Listen to what you are saying. Do you understand the repercussions? If this gets out, they'll close the X-files.

Mulder: Scully, listen to me: It knows when you are sleeping. It knows when you're awake.

Scully: But we have no proof.

Mulder: Last year, on this exact date, S.E.T.I. radio telescopes detected bogeys in the airspace over twenty-seven states. The White House ordered a Condition Red.

Scully: But that was a meteor shower.

Mulder: Officially. Two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian reindeer vanished from the National Zoo in Washington, D.C. Nobody - not even the zookeeper - was told about it. The government doesn't want people to know about Project Kringle. They fear that if this thing is proved to exist, then the public would stop spending half its annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy. Retail markets will collapse. Scully,they cannot let the world believe this creature lives. There's too much at stake. They'll do whatever it takes to insure another silent night.

Scully: Mulder, I --

Mulder: Sh-h-h! Do you hear what I hear?

Scully: On the roof. It sounds like . . . a clatter.

Mulder: The truth is up there. Let's see what's the matter.


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And still more holiday images

Lather, rinse, repost.

santa mexican.jpg

santa_1_.gif

santagrave.jpgxmas22_1.jpg

And here's one that you won't want to see.

santa belly105.jpg

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Caught in the act

Frosty turns out to be a dirty, nasty little grade schooler:

Frosty.bmp

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December 15, 2007

Barbie's letter to Santa (repost)

Don't say that I didn't warn you about the Christmas-time repeats....
===============================

Barbie's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

Listen you fat little troll, I've been helping you out every year,
playing at being the perfect Christmas Present, wearing skimpy bathing
suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many tea
parties, and I hate to break it to ya Santa, but IT'S DEFINITELY PAY
BACK TIME! There had better be some changes around here this Christmas,
or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me, you won't
wanna be around to smell it).

So, here's my holiday wish list for 1998, Santa.

1. A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized sweatshirt.
I'm sick of looking like a hooker. How much smaller are these bathing
suits gonna get? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon
and velcro up your butt?

2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. Preferably white. What
bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to
my skin?!? It looks like cellulite!

3. A REAL man... maybe GI JOE. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that
wimped-out excuse for a boy toy Ken. And what's with that earring anyway?
If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me)
anatomically correct.

4. Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp
away once he is anatomically correct.

5. Breast reduction surgery. I don't care whose arm you have to twist,
just get it done.

6. A jog-bra. To wear until I get the surgery.

7. A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How
about a systems analyst? Or better yet, a public relations senior
account exec!

8. A new, more 90's persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with a
miniature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a
bag of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun,
fitted with a fake fur coat, bottle of spray on blood and handcuffs;
or "Stop Smoking Barbie," sporting a Nicotrol patch and equipped with
several packs of gum.

9. No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl.

10. Mattel stock options. It's been 37 years-I think I deserve it.
Okay Santa, that's it. Considering my valuable contribution to society, I
don't think these requests are out of line. If you disagree, then you can
find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas. It's that simple.

Yours Truly,

Barbie

----------------------------

Ken's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

I understand that one of my colleagues has petitioned you
for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and
career changes. In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging
remarks were made about me, my ability to please, and some of my
fashion choices. I would like to take this opportunity to inform you
of some issues concerning Ms. Barbie, and some of my own needs and
desires.

First of all, I along with several other colleagues feel
Barbie DOES NOT deserve preferential treatment - the bitch has
everything. Along with Joe, Jem, Raggedy Ann & Andy, I DO NOT have
a dream house, corvette, evening gowns, and in some cases the ability
to change our hair style. I personally have only 3 outfits which I am
forced to mix and match at great length.

My decision to accessorize my outfits with an earring was my
decision and reflects my lifestyle choice.

I too would like a change in my career. Have you ever considered
"Decorator Ken", "Beauty Salon Ken", or "Out Of Work Actor Ken"? In
addition, there are several other avenues which could be considered such
as:

"S&M Ken" , "Green Lantern Ken", "Circuit Ken", "Bear Ken", "Master Ken".

These would more accurately reflect my desires and perhaps open up new
markets. And as for Barbie needing bendable arms so she can "push me
away," I need bendable knees so I can kick the bitch to the curb.
Bendable knees would also be helpful for me in other situations - we've
talked about this issue before.

In closing, I would like to point out that any further concessions
to the blond bimbo from hell will result in action be taken by myself and
others. And Barbie can forget about having Joe - he's mine, at least that's
what he said last night.

Sincerely,

Ken

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Christmas card for my geeky friends

Yes, I posted this last year. There'll be a lot more of that until end of year.
===============================================

Repeat from last year. Don't say that I didn't warn you.

This, I loved:

foxtrot120104.gif

Translation to follow upon request.

BTW, here is the Taylor series expansion for the natural log Euler's constant. Behold:

taylor series expansion for natural log.png

Substitute "1" for x and there you have it.

Update: As someone else noticed, the series expansion is for the root used in the natural log: e, also know as Euler's number, Euler's constant(not the Euler-Mascheroni constant), or Napier's constant. Sorry for any confusion.

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December 13, 2007

Request: night before Christmas Star Trek parody?

To any and all who read this: last weekend while out and about, I heard a bit on the radio which I supposed could be called "The Shatner Before Christmas". Actually, I don't know what it was named, I'm just guessing. Anyway, it was a comedian spoofing Shatner's inimitable delivery doing a Star Trek: TOS version of The Night Before Christmas. I've searched around the Intertubes and haven't been able to find the audio yet in any format. Here are some particulars of the bit:

  • "Kirk" does the whole narration, mentiong Uhura, Spock and Bones by name
  • Klingon C(K?)laus makes an appearance
  • Kirk's gift is "a girdle with a message that said 'Just your size'"
  • Kirk then blows Klingon Claus to smithereens with photon torpedoes

No, I can't remember which radio station I was listening to, as I was busy trying to avoid commercials. If I knew which station it was, I could call the station and ask. Anyway, has anyone else heard this? More to the point, does anyone know what it's actually called and where I can find it?

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December 10, 2007

Surrender Dorothy!

Be honest: you thought the exact same thing.

Link via that puppy blending law professor.

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December 04, 2007

Everything that you know about Rudolph is wrong

Michele reposted her classic rewrite of one of the holiday season's favorite TV specials. Excerpt:

So what happens? Does Rudolph finally have enough of the bullying and dons a trenchcoat, listens to Marilyn Manson and mows down his enemies? No, Rudolph goes off on an adventure. He escapes his problems instead of confronting them. When you think about it, running away on adventure isn't so bad, as he could have turned to a life on the streets, doing "favors" for old barflys in exchange for salt licks.

I really missed Michele's blogging during her absence. And her post put me in mind to repost an old image:

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November 28, 2007

Pay attention

There is a lesson to be learned here somewhere.......

First-year students at Texas A&M's Vet school were receiving their first anatomy class, with a real dead cow. They all gathered around the surgery table with the body covered with a white sheet. The professor started the class by telling them, "In Veterinary Medicine it is necessary to have two important qualities as a doctor: The first is that you not be disgusted by anything involving the animal body. For an example, the Professor pulled back the sheet, stuck his finger in the butt of the dead cow, withdrew it and stuck it in his mouth.

"Go ahead and do the same thing," he told his students. The students freaked out and hesitated for several minutes. But eventually they took turns sticking a finger in the anal opening of the dead cow and sucking on it. When everyone finished, the Professor looked at them and said, "The second most important quality is observation. I stuck in my middle finger and sucked on my index finger. Now learn to pay attention.

"Life's tough, it's even tougher if you're stupid."

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Early reviews aren't good

Iowahawk reports on the dismal box office takes for many of the anti-Santa movies. He ends it with my favorite line from one of my favorite jokes:

Despite the disappointing weekend showing, MPAA spokesman Bell said that industry still has high hopes for 17 more anti-Santa films that will open nationwide this weekend, including "The Reindeer Hunter," "Shop Loss," and Quentin Tarantino's much anticipated "Workshop of Blood."

"Chances are, one of them will be a hit," said Bell. "There's got to be a pony in there somewhere."

Actually, the joke is pretty old. I heard it long before Reagan started telling it. Between that punchline and "At least we've got feathers!", I generate more perplexed glances from people than you can shake a stick at.

Ahh, here's the version that I remember. Apparently the joke's been massaged many times over the years, but the punchline hasn't changed.

A couple had twin boys of five or six. Worried that the boys had developed extreme personalities -- one was a total pessimist, the other a total optimist -- their parents took them to a psychiatrist.

First the psychiatrist treated the pessimist. Trying to brighten his outlook, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with brand-new toys. But instead of yelping with delight, the little boy burst into tears. "What's the matter?" the psychiatrist asked, baffled. "Don't you want to play with any of the toys?" "Yes," the little boy bawled, "but if I did I'd only break them."

Next the psychiatrist treated the optimist. Trying to dampen his out look, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with horse manure. But instead of wrinkling his nose in disgust, the optimist emitted just the yelp of delight the psychiatrist had been hoping to hear from his brother, the pessimist. Then he clambered to the top of the pile, dropped to his knees, and began gleefully digging out scoop after scoop with his bare hands.

"What do you think you're doing?" the psychiatrist asked, just as baffled by the optimist as he had been by the pessimist. "With all this manure," the little boy replied, beaming, "there must be a pony in here somewhere!"


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November 20, 2007

the Cameron Column #1(#57 reprinted): The Thanksgiving Turkey

If you've never read any of Bruce Cameron's articles, you've been missing out. He stopped writing for a while, restarted and then stopped again. Maybe he finally ran out of ideas. In any event, here is his Thanksgiving column circa 1998.
==================================================

Like many men, I am different from my wife in ways which are noticeable, and, in my opinion, fortunate.

Take the Thanksgiving turkey (and I mean that literally. PLEASE come over to our house, open the refrigerator, shove aside everything growing green fuzz, and take this carcass away before it reincarnates as turkey lasagna or turkey tetracycline or whatever new concoction awaits the family.) But take Thanksgiving--my wife prefers small birds that fit nicely into the roasting pan and which can be cooked in a few hours.

"Ha!" I can be quoted as sneering. I trace my own gender lineage to that proud, hairy group of hunter-gatherers who, prior to the invention of TV remote control, would pick up their spears, huddle, and then go out and pull down a huge bison for dinner, stopping at the bar on the way home for a couple of cave brews. So when I go to the store for a turkey, I find a TURKEY: a mammoth, many-pound fowl with drum sticks as large as my thighs and wings you could park a car under.

Words cannot describe the delight on my wife's face when my neighbors help me carry the bird into the refrigerator, where, following the instructions, it is left to thaw for a period of six months. (My wife often has several interesting but impractical suggestions on where else we might stick the turkey for this thawing procedure.) Cooking begins around Halloween, a slow roasting process which varies from my mother's recipe in that there are no flames or threats of divorce "if anybody says a word about how the turkey tastes."

I enjoy every step of turkey preparation, particularly since I am not involved in any of it. Well, that's not entirely true--at one point, I am asked to reach into the mouth of the turkey and retrieve the giblets, which turns out to be a bag of what looks like pieces of Jimmy Hoffa. (I realize I am not, technically speaking, putting my hand in the bird's "mouth," but I'd rather not dwell on what this means.) How the turkey manages to swallow this stuff in the first place is beyond me. Traditionally, we open this bag, dump the contents into a pan of water, and boil the results. Only the cat is happy about this development.

As wonderful as this all is, by the fourth or fifth night my appetite for turkey variations has waned, and I provide valuable feedback to my wife by making gagging noises at dinner time. Her verbal (as opposed to projectile) response to this is to imply that it is somehow MY fault we have so many leftovers, to which I logically reply, "hey, YOU cooked it."

Now, before you men out there become too smug with how adroitly I out maneuvered her with my quick retort, you should be advised that she STILL blames me for our turkey-induced bulimia. Therefore I appeal to my readership: has anyone else noticed bizarre psychiatric reactions to turkey consumption which might explain this whole controversy? Please advise via return e-mail, which will be picked up by the crack WBC technical team and, judging by previous results, forwarded to the Governor of New Jersey.

Thanks... oh, and Happy Thanksgiving too.

The Cameron Column, A Free Internet Newsletter
Copyright W. Bruce Cameron 1998
================================================

Update: My bad. I used to be on his mailing list; not sure why I'm not now. In any event, Bruce Cameron appears to have been writing up a storm. You can find his stuff here, including my all-time favorite column.

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Spicing up Thanksgiving dinner

Why yes, I did post this last year. Thanks for asking
=========================================

Here is a new way to prepare your Thanksgiving or Christmas Turkey.

1. Cut out aluminum foil in desired shapes.
2. Arrange the turkey in the roasting pan, position the foil carefully (see
attached)
3. Roast according to your own recipes and serve.
4. Watch your guests' faces.

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How to cook a turkey

Reposted from last year.

=====================
This has been making its way around the Internet since 1500 B.C., even though the first computer still hadn't been manufactured yet. However, if there's one thing that you can count on me for, it's recycling the stalest holiday humor you've ever seen between now and the New Year.
---------------------------------------------------
HOW TO COOK A TURKEY

Step 1: Go buy a turkey

Step 2: Take a drink of whiskey, scotch, or JD

Step 3: Put turkey in the oven

Step 4: Take another 2 drinks of whiskey

Step 5: Set the degree at 375 ovens

Step 6: Take 3 more whiskeys of drink

Step 7: Turn oven the on

Step 8: Take 4 whisks of drinky

Step 9: Turk the bastey

Step 10: Whiskey another bottle of get

Step 11: Stick a turkey in the thermometer

Step 12: Glass yourself a pour of whiskey

Step 13: Bake the whiskey for 4 hours

Step 14: Take the oven out of the turkey

Step 15: Take the oven out of the turkey

Step 16: Floor the turkey up off the pick

Step 17: Turk the carvey

Step 18: Get yourself another scottle of botch

Step 19: Tet the sable and pour yourself a glass of turkey(Ed. note: this didn't used to be possible)
Update: More on this here.

Step 20: Bless the saying, pass and eat out

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A special Thanksgiving Day message

You might remember this special holiday image from last year. This time, I won't hide it in the extended entry.


piece of me.jpg


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November 05, 2007

A little geeky humor

Kin Calvin helpfully translates this French satire article, although like many such translations, it ends up sounding, at times, like Jim Treacher's former alter-ego, Puch (or however it was spelled). In any event, it's worth excerpting:

If you want to be a hacker, you will have to use Linux. Here are 2 solutions :

Ė You are a capitalistic bourgeois and you buy it $150 at Fryís.
Ė You are an asshole, and then you download it on the net.

Of course you belong to the second category, so you have to use your FTP client and wait a few hours while your are downloading a Slack or a Debian. Try not to use Mandriva, this is for the public. You must not forget that you are an uNdERgrOuNd guy now, itís normal, youíre a Hacker.

O.K, now you have got Linux, you can forget it. You do not need to lose your time learning how this new Operating System works and that you will never use because Xwing vs Tie Fighter doesnít run on it. The best way is to delete lilo, like that you will sure to boot on Windows Vista. This elegant solution is practiced by many guys like you. The easiest way is to invoke fdisk /mbr in a DOS session, it will delete lilo which was installed on your MBRís hard drive. Good, you do not need to care about Linux anymore.
...
The $1 hacking community

When people are dangerous like you, they must meet with other crooks to jeopardize the Stateís security. For this, there is THE thugsí rendez-vous, called the Meet 2600. Every month, you will go to a MacDo in Paris, place of Italy, and there you will meet very important guys, who rebooted the entire Internet with a Visual Basic program and have special hair cuts like rebels of the society.

Okay, you will not learn much in this meetings, losers who go over there masturbate each other thinking ďYeah, we are hAcKeRz, we are ruthless, real men. Oh shit, it is already 6 pm, I have to go home otherwise my mum will kill me.Ē But you will still feel real thrill thinking that the MacDo is full of cameras and microphones, and that the employees are agents from the DST who are listening to dangerous conversations such as :

- Asshole1 : How much is the Whooper ?
- Asshole2 : Uh, MacDo does Whoopers now ?
- Asshole1 : I thought they always did, no ?

Welcome to the wonderful world of geekery. Be afraid; very afraid.

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October 31, 2007

Halloween math humor

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Halloween images part 2 redux

When life hands you old posts, well, you know what to do.
======================================
dr jekyll and mrs hyde.bmp


family reunion.bmp


low carb.bmp


merry thanksgivoween.bmp


peter peter.bmp


who died.bmp

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Halloween images redux

Saw this post from Val and decided to repost last year's stuff. Sue me.
====================================

baby ruth.bmpanger management.bmp


bed webber.bmpcant take it.bmp

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Halloween humor

A man was walking home alone late one foggy night, when behind him he hears:

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

Walking faster, he looks back and through the fog he makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street toward him.

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

Terrified, the man begins to run toward his home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.

FASTER...

FASTER...

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, rushes in, slams and locks the door behind him.

However, the casket crashes through his door, with the lid of the casket clapping

clappity-BUMP...

clappity-BUMP...

clappity-BUMP...

on his heels, the terrified man runs.

Rushing upstairs to the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.

With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door. Bumping and clapping toward him.

The man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup! Desperate, he throws the cough syrup at the casket...

and...

the coffin stops.

Don't hate because I'm beautiful.

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October 04, 2007

The bitter truth

Harvey posted a quip that I plan to file the serial numbers off of, take across state lines and use as my own:

Coworker: It all depends on whether you see the glass as half-full or half-empty.

Harvey: The glass is chipped and I cut my lip on it.


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October 03, 2007

This is humor?

Via Gerard comes this little SNL clip on YouTube. Truthfully, if the voice were more grating, and the smile a little more I-eat-live-babies chilling, I'd think it was Hillary. Money quote:

"And you, John Edwards, you phony, two-faced, ambulance chasing little rat bastard."

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October 02, 2007

A veritable who's who of washed up has-beens

Where Aren't They Now? over at Cracked offers some post-sitcom career roundups of people who you probably don't remember anyway, except maybe Danica McKellar. I second their comment below:

We'd also like to add, holy shit:

danica3.jpeg

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September 26, 2007

Health report

I wasn't feeling well, so I went to see my doctor. He told me that I needed to eat better to feel better. He said that I should visualize my foods as colors- red, yellow, green- and that I should eat those colors. So I went home and ate a big plate of M&Ms. Sure enough, I felt much better.

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September 25, 2007

Question answered

Jay Pinkerton, over at Cracked, runs down which movie version Batman is the baddest of them all. Excerpt:

#5. ADAM WEST - Batman: The Movie (1966) ... Ass-Kicking Ability BatWest fights like someone having a stroke. To be fair, Batman: The Movie's supposed to be campy. To once again be unfair, it looks like they didn't so much choreograph their fights as just run around flailing their arms like the set just caught on fire: ...

#4. GEORGE CLOONEY - Batman & Robin (1997)
...
Posse
BatClooney sees no problems whatsoever with suiting Chris O'Donnell and Alicia Silverstone up in benippled costumes and enlisting the idiots in his war on crime, despite the fact that no right-thinking person would trust Chris O'Donnell or Alicia Silverstone to lick stamps without turning purple and asphyxiating themselves.
...
#2. MICHAEL KEATON - Batman (1989), Batman Returns (1992)
...
Smoothness with the Ladies
For a short guy with no muscles, BatKeaton scores positively epic amounts of ass during his Bat-tenure in Batman and Batman Returns, including Kim Basinger and Michelle Pfeiffer in a catsuit. Must be that impressive wingspan on the cape.

Plus, unlike other Batmen (who refuse to get involved in relationships because it would distract from their war on crime), BatKeaton's all about the pussy: That crime stuff can just chill out for a night, he'll get to it tomorrow. He freely reveals his identity to his girlfriends, romances them with candle-lit meals at Wayne Manor, and then makes them watch him sleep upside-down after he's bedded them. That's a little creepy, admittedly, but one could argue that after you've managed to bed '80s-era Kim Basinger, you can pretty much go ahead and do any goddamn thing you'd like.

The rest, gentle readers, I leave for your perusal.

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September 19, 2007

Shiver me timbers!

It's Talk Like a Pirate Day. Again. It always seems to sneak up on me; I guess it's down to the Locker with me.

Update: Received via email from a friend:

Top Ten Pickup lines for use on International Talk Like a Pirate Day

(We came up with these in an effort to interest The Other Dave (Letterman) in TLAPD. His staff liked 'em, but alas, his show was"dark" the week of Sept. 19.)

10 . Avast, me proud beauty! Wanna know why my Roger is so Jolly?

9. Have ya ever met a man with a real yardarm?

8. Come on up and see me urchins.

7. Yes, that is a hornpipe in my pocket and I am happy to see you.

6. I'd love to drop anchor in your lagoon.

5. Pardon me, but would ya mind if fired me cannon through your porthole?

4. How'd you like to scrape the barnacles off of me rudder?

3. Ya know, darliní, Iím 97 percent chum free.

2. Well blow me down?

And the number one pickup line for use on International Talk Like a Pirate Day is Ö

1. Prepare to be boarded.

Arrggghh, as it were.

Update: Well, the result of this pirate name generator kind of sucks:

You've recently acquired a peg leg, eye patch, hook and parrot, but now you need that perfect pirate name. Enter your current name and be redubbed:

Old name: physics geek

We'll now call ye:

Androgynous Bernard Smithe

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September 12, 2007

Surprising result

I didn't make the list.

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September 04, 2007

With a bang, not a whimper

Via VW Bug comes this quiz, which gave me the following result:


How will I die?
Your Result: You will die while having sex.
 

Your last moments in this life will be enjoyable indeed...hopefully. Do not fear sex. Try not to become celibate as a way of escaping death. You cannot run from destiny.

You will die while saving someone's life.
 
You will die in your sleep.
 
You will be murdered.
 
You will die from a terminal illness.
 
You will die in a nuclear holocaust.
 
You will die of boredom.
 
You will die in a car accident.
 
How will I die?
Create a Quiz

My heart is still pretty strong, so it's gonna take some serious getting my freak on to kill me. Either that or some seriously advanced age.

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September 03, 2007

Better than nuking the moon

Harvey, in an alternate reality, has Bush practice diplomacy the way it should be practiced.

In a Tehran news conference, Iran's President scoffed at the threat of military action against his regime, saying that "even if they were to decide to do so, they would be unable to carry it out."

Bush responded calmly to the defiance. "I suppose Amedinejad - or 'Amy' as I like to call him - is right. Americans certainly don't seem to have the cojones for a decent war these days. That's why I intend to start with diplomatic pressure. Specifically, economic sanctions. More specifically, a declaration of economic sanctions duct-taped to a 10-megaton warhead."

I giggle every time that I read it. Go check it out.

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August 20, 2007

Bus ride

Two bowling teams, one of all Blondes and one of all Brunettes, charter a double-decker bus for a week-end gambling trip to Louisiana.

The Brunette team rode on the bottom of the bus, and the Blonde team rode on the top level. The Brunette team down below really whooped it up, having a great time, when one of them realized she hadn't heard anything from the Blondes upstairs.

She decided to go up and investigate. When the Brunette reached the top, she found all the Blondes frozen in fear, staring straight ahead at the road, clutching the seats in front of them with white knuckles. The brunette asked, "What the heck's going on up here? We're having a great time downstairs!"

One of the Blondes looked up at her, swallowed hard and whispered... "Yeah, but you've got a driver."

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August 15, 2007

An oldie

But still a goody. I give you Icon Wars!

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August 06, 2007

For sale

Received via email:
=============================================

I am selling one of my Barry Bonds rookie cards to the highest bidder that I bought in 1986. I for one do not believe that Barry took steroids at any point in his career and believe he will be in the Hall of Fame someday. A copy of the card is below the fold.


BarryB rookie.jpg

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August 01, 2007

We take time out from our busy schedule of sniffing glue to tell you...

I won't be advertising on the O'Reilly Factor either.

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June 29, 2007

Debating science

A lot of truth exists within the boundaries of the cartoon posted below:

science debate.JPG

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June 27, 2007

Public service announcement: health warning scam

TICK WARNING

It makes me a nuts when people forward bogus warnings, and I've even done it myself a couple times, but this one is important. So please send this warning to everyone on your e-mail list.

If someone from the National Center for Tick Control comes to your front door saying they are checking for ticks due to the warming weather and asks you to take your clothes off and dance around with your arms up...

DO NOT DO IT!! IT IS A SCAM!!

They only want to see you naked...

.
.
.

I wish I'd gotten this yesterday. I feel so stupid. So used.

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June 19, 2007

Ms. Right Now

If you go to a scifi con, or a gaming con, or any sort of RPG/fantasy/dorkwad con, be on the lookout for a woman wearing the T-shirt shown below. Trust me: it's quite possibly the only time in your life that you will ever, ever have sex.

ComeOn.jpeg

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The truth

Here are some gas prices that should look familiar:

fuel.jpeg

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May 08, 2007

Funny, but a bit sad, too

I've filed this under the humor tag, but find some of the changes to be a bit sad. Anyhoo, here's a list contrasting 1973 with 2007. Excerpt:

Scenario: Pedro fails high school English.

1973: Pedro goes to summer school, passes English, goes to college.

2007: Pedroís cause is taken up by state democratic party. Newspaper articles appear nationally explaining that teaching English as a requirement for graduation is racist. ACLU files class action lawsuit against state school system and Pedroís English teacher. English banned from core curriculum. Pedro given diploma anyway but ends up mowing lawns for a living because he canít speak English.

Scenario: Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from the 4th of July, puts them in a model airplane paint bottle, blows up a red ant bed.

1973: Ants die.

2007: BATF, Homeland Security, FBI called. Johnny charged with domestic terrorism, FBI investigates parents, siblings removed from home, computers confiscated, Johnnyís Dad goes on a terror watch list and is never allowed to fly again.



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May 03, 2007

Pwning some silly hotlinker: priceless

Apparently someone at the HuffPo hotlinked an image from the Family Research Council. Well, the Evangelical Output did what I normally do to hotlinkers: moved a different image into that file name. The results are quite amusing. As I type this, the HuffPo still hasn't been fixed.

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April 09, 2007

It's Monday again

Received via email:
===================================================

A nice, calm and respectable lady went into the pharmacy. She walked right up to the pharmacist, looked straight into his eyes, and said,

"I would like to buy some cyanide."

The pharmacist asked, "Why in the world do you need cyanide?"

The lady replied, "I need it to poison my husband."

The pharmacists' eyes got big and he exclaimed, "Lord have mercy! I can't give you cyanide to kill your husband! That's against the law! I'll lose my license! They'll throw both of us in jail! All kinds of bad things will happen. Absolutely not! You CANNOT have any cyanide!"

The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist's wife.

The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, "Well now, that's different; you didn't tell me that you had a prescription."

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April 01, 2007

Comedy gold

This is sure to spawn a whole new generation of West Virginia jokes.

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March 26, 2007

Circle flies

Received via email:

A cowboy in Texas got pulled over by a State Trooper for speeding.

The trooper started to lecture the cowboy about his speeding, and in general began to throw his weight around to try to make the cowboy feel uncomfortable. Finally, the trooper got around to writing out the ticket.

As he was doing that, he kept swatting at some flies that were buzzing around his head. The cowboy said, "Having some problem with Circle Flies there, are ya?" The trooper stopped writing the ticket and said, "Well yeah, if that's what they are. I never heard of Circle flies." So the cowboy says, "Well, circle flies are common on ranches. See, they're called circle flies because they're almost always found circling around the back end of a horse."

The trooper says, "Oh," and goes back to writing the ticket. Then after a minute, he stops and says, "Are you trying to call me a horse's ass?"

The cowboy says, "No, Sir. I have too much respect for law enforcement and police officers to even think about calling you a horse's ass."

The trooper says, "Well that's a good thing," and goes back to writing the ticket.

After a long pause, the cowboy says, "Hard to fool them flies, though."


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I really shouldn't read this stuff at work

Reading Iowahawk at work will probably get me fired one day. It might be worth it, too. Excerpt:

BILL: That's right Ann, you emaciated Eva Braun sideshow freak. By supporting this good citizenship effort, you will ensure that America's outspoken pundit community has the book and TV and speaking contracts we need to pay the critically important mortgages on our Laurel Canyon ranch homes.

ANN: And Manhattan apartments! So take it from me and my venereal diseased, dwarf-penis pinko fag colleague Bill - don't be a player hater. Stop the indignation, because there are enough zippy assassination one-liners for everyone. The next time you are repulsed by something we say, remember:

That is some seriously funny stuff there.

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March 15, 2007

Humor break

Received via email:

A few days ago I was having some work done at my local garage. A blonde came in and asked for a seven-hundred-ten. We all looked at each other and another customer asked, "What is a seven-hundred-ten?" She replied, "You know, the little piece in the middle of the engine, I have lost it and need a new one.." She replied that she did not know exactly what it was, but this piece had always been there. The mechanic gave her a piece of paper and a pen and asked her to draw what the piece looked like. She drew a circle and in the middle of it wrote 710. He then took her over to another car which had its hood up and asked "is there a 710 on this car?" She pointed and said, "Of course, its right there."

If you're not sure what a 710 is see below the fold for details:

710.jpeg

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March 13, 2007

I don't think it means what you think it means

When Dr. Ruth tells you, "I'd hit it", she might be referring to her skills as a sniper from her days in the Israeli Defense Force.

In a tangential note, reading about Dr. Ruth reminds me of Sam Kinison's little jab at her:

Who is this dried up old woman offering sex advice to people?

::mimicking Dr. Ruth:: First, you must take the man's penis...

Yeah, when's the last time you saw a man's penis? Were there cars back then, or did you suck dick on horseback, Annie Oakley?"

I had the pleasure of seeing Kinison live in concert, back before he became a household name. He was quite funny, and incredibly loud. I swear that they de-amplified his voice, because he sound quieter when yelling into the microphone.

Let me leave you with Kinison's appearance on Married With Children, part 1 and part 2.

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March 12, 2007

Health Awareness

Older than the hills humor to follow, but I just re-received in an email and thought that I would take 5 minutes of your life that you'll never get back.

HEALTH QUESTION & ANSWER SESSION

Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true?

A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it... Don't waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.


Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?

A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.


Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?

A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up!


Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?

A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.


Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?

A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain...Good!


Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?

A: YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!!!... Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?

A: Are you crazy? HELLO . Cocoa beans! Another vegetable!!! It's the best feel-good food around!


Q: Is swimming good for your figure?

A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.

Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.

And remember:

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming : Woo Hoo, what a ride!

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March 09, 2007

how to be a good neighbor

I received the following email and thought it was pretty funny. What's even better is that it is a true story:

A city councilman, Mark Easton, lives in this neighborhood. He had a beautiful view of the east mountains until a new neighbor purchased the lot below his house and built.

Apparently the new home was 18 inches higher than the ordinances would allow, so Mark Easton, mad about his lost view, went to the city to make sure they enforced the lower roof line ordinance. Mark and his new neighbor had some great arguments about this as you can imagine - not great feelings. The new neighbor had to drop the roof line - no doubt at great expense.

Recently Mark Easton called the city and informed them that his new neighbor had installed some vents on the side of his home. Mark didn't like the look of these vents and asked the city to investigate. When they went to Mark's home to see the vent view, this is what they found... (see pictures in the extended entry)

vent1.jpg

vent2.jpg

This looks like something I would have done. Or wish that I'd done; the wife isn't a jackass like me.

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Sad news

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:


  • Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
  • Why the early bird gets the worm;
  • Life isn't always fair and,
  • Maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6 -year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Tylenol, sun lotion or a band-aid to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason
He is survived by his 3 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim.

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

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March 01, 2007

Instant classic

I don't know how Iowahawk does it, but I sure wish that I could do it.

404874082_daee6df1b6_o.jpg

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February 21, 2007

Because the truth hurts sometimes

That's why I posted this picture:

motivational.jpeg

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February 11, 2007

Instant classic

But then it's Iowahawk, so it's not entirely unexpected.

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February 09, 2007

This fits

This won't surprise anyone who actually knows me, including my beloved wife:

Your Candy Heart Says "Get Real"
You're a bit of a cynic when it comes to love.
You don't lose your head, and hardly anyone penetrates your heart.

Your ideal Valentine's Day date: is all about the person you're seeing (with no mentions of v-day!)

Your flirting style: honest and even slightly sarcastic

What turns you off: romantic expectations and "greeting card" holidays

Why you're hot: you don't just play hard to get - you are hard to get
What Does Your Candy Heart Say?

Thanks, Val. I needed a good laugh.

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I guess that I need to STFU

Annie provides a link to a great spoof of the OS war commercials.

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February 05, 2007

I'm going to hell

Emily linked this website which made me laugh. A lot.

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A documentary about me

Check out this "article". It contains pretty good pictures of me, although I'll admit that I've gained a little weight since they were taken.

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January 26, 2007

Food for thought

From this week's Sportspickle:

Ponder This... ... Phil Mickelson bragged in the lead up to his season debut at last weekendís Bob Hope Classic that he had dropped 25 pounds in the offseason. Little good it did him. He fired a final round 6-over 78 and finished in 45th place, 10 shots behind the leaders. Clearly Mickelson just doesnít get it. We donít watch him in hopes heíll play great golf thanks to his physical fitness. Just like no one would like Pamela Anderson any more if she took acting classes or began wearing tasteful and conservative turtlenecks. Phil, we watch you because in the midst of a four or five hour broadcast in which dorky men stroll past our screen in khakis and polo shirts, you offer us delicious eye candy in the form of bouncy, voluptuous breasts. Once you lose those youíre nothing but another shmoe in Dockers who loses to Tiger Woods every week. ... Here is my Page 2 column from Monday. I should mention that Iíve always had a certain perception about the average, rank-and-file Boston sports fan Ė both from firsthand interaction and from observing them from afar through the media. And the perception is this: the average, rank-and-file Boston sports fan is an insufferable douche bag who leaves much to be desired in the intelligence department. But I have always been one who is willing to admit when I am wrong. So today I will do that, as the e-mails I received from Patriots fans in response to the column above showed me the error of my ways and I must apologize. The average, rank-and-file Boston sports fan is not an insufferable douche bag who leaves much to be desired in the intelligence department. Far from it. They are actually very nearly mentally retarded, if not legitimately disabled, and for that they should be helped, not vilified. (Seriously, Boston douchery Ė you didnít pick up on that column being tongue-in-cheek? You honestly believed I really Tom Brady and Bill Belichick will never win a Super Bowl, even though they have won three already? Really? Wow. Just wow.)

This one's gonna become a weekly read, just like TMQ.

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Men are just happier people

Received via email:

Men Are Just Happier People-- What do you expect from such simple creatures?

Your last name stays put.

The garage is all yours.

Wedding plans take care of themselves.

Chocolate is just another snack.

You can be President.

You can never be pregnant.

You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park.

You can wear NO shirt to a water park.

Car mechanics tell you the truth.

The world is your urinal.

You never have to drive to another gas station rest-room because this one is
just too icky.

You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.

Same work, more pay.

Wrinkles add character.

Wedding dress $5000.Tux rental-$100.

People never stare at your chest when you are talking to them.

The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected.

New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet.

One mood all the time.

Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.

You know stuff about tanks.

A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase.

You can open all your own jars.

You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.

If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend.

Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack.

Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.

You almost never have strap problems in public.

You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes.

Everything on your face stays its original color.

The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.

You only have to shave your face and neck.

You can play with toys all your life.

Your belly usually hides your big hips.

One wallet and one pair of shoes -- one color for all seasons.

You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look.

You can "do" your nails with a pocket knife.

You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.

You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives on December 24 in 25 minutes.

No wonder men are happier.

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January 09, 2007

best cat in the world

Found via Neal Boortz:

saddams_cat.gif

Update: I see that Ace liked the picture, too.

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January 08, 2007

The Husband Store

A store that sells husbands has just opened in New York City , where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates. You may visit the store ONLY ONCE ! There are six floors and the attributes of the men increase as the shopper ascends the flights. There is, however, a catch: you may choose any man from a particular floor, or you may choose to go up a floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building!

So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband. On the first floor
the sign on the door reads:

Floor 1 - These men have jobs and love the Lord. The second floor sign reads:

Floor 2 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, and love kids. The third floor sign reads:

Floor 3 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, and are extremely good looking. "Wow," she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going. She goes to the fourth floor and the sign reads:

Floor 4 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop-dead good looking and help with the housework. "Oh, mercy me!" she exclaims, "I can hardly stand it!" Still, she goes to the fifth floor and the sign reads:

Floor 5 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop-dead gorgeous, help with the housework, and have a strong romantic streak. She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor and the sign reads:

Floor 6 - You are visitor 4,363,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store. Watch your step as you exit the building, and have a nice day!

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December 29, 2006

Old, old joke

I first saw this on rec.humor eons ago. Not exactly sure what made me think of it, but I couldn't resist posting it.

By the way, don't take too seriously the "it's real" part.

Tandem Writing Assignment

The following is a true story received from an English professor.

You know that book "Men are from Mars, Women from Venus"? Well, here's a prime example of that. This assignment was actually turned in by two of my English students: Rebecca (last name deleted) and Gary (last name deleted).

First, the Assignment:

English 44A
SMU
Creative Writing
Prof. Miller

In-Class Assignment for Wednesday:
Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth.

Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.

And now, the Assignment as submitted by Rebecca & Gary:

Rebecca starts:

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The camomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked camomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So camomile was out of the question.

Gary:

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far...". But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

Rebecca:

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel." Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth -- when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

Gary:

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"

Rebecca:

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

Gary:

Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.

Rebecca:

Asshole.

Gary:

Bitch.

My guess is that they have 5 children now.

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December 27, 2006

Cartoon classics

Want to know what the 50 greatest cartoons of all-time are? And more importantly, do you want to watch them? Then go here to see them all, as ranked by the animation industry.

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December 14, 2006

A rabbinical limerick

I noticed that Jonah had posted some circumcision poems and thought that I'd get into the act with one of my own:

There was a Rabbi named Keith
Who circumcised young men with his teeth.
It wasn't for pleasure,
or want of some treasure,
but to get at the cheese underneath.
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December 04, 2006

Baseball fan

The world's most avid baseball fan, a blonde, had arrived early at the stadium for the first game of the World Series only to realize that she had left her ticket at home. Not wanting to miss any of the first inning, she went ot the ticket booth and got in a long line for another seat. After an hour's wait she was just a few feet from the booth when a voice called out, "Hey, Linda!"

She looked up, stepped out of line and tried to find the owner of the voice, with no success.

The she realized she had lost her place in the line and had to go back to the end of the line and wait all over again.

After she had purchased her ticket, she was thirsty, so she went to buy a drink. The line at the concession stand was also very long. but since the game hadn't started, she decided to wait. Just as she got to the window, a voice called out, "Hey, Linda!"

Again she tried to find the voice and got out of line as she wandered around looking for the owner of the voice. But no luck.

She was very upset as she got back into line for drink.

Finally, she had her drink and took her seat, eager for the game to begin. As she waited for the first pitch, she heard the voice calling, "Hey, Linda!" once more.

Furious, she stood up and yelled at the top of her lungs,

"My name isn't Linda!"

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November 23, 2006

A special Thanksgiving Day image

In the extended entry you will find a picture that truly encapsulates the emotions that some of us feel going into Thanksgiving:

piece of me.jpg

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November 17, 2006

The battle of the sexes

I'm feeling lazy today. Here's some more recycled humor for you:

Women's Prayer:

Before I lay me down to sleep, I pray for a man,
who's not a creep. One who's handsome, smart
and strong, one who loves to listen long. One who
thinks before he speaks, when he says he'll call,
he won't wait weeks. I pray that he is gainfully
employed, when I spend his cash, won't be annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens my door, massages my
back and begs to do more. Oh, send me a man who'll
make love to my mind, knows what to answer to "how
big is my behind?" I pray that this man will love me to
no end, and never attempt to hit on my friends.

Amen.


Man's Prayer:

I pray for a deaf-mute nymphomaniac with huge boobs who owns a liquor store.

Amen

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November 03, 2006

Comprehending engineers

A pastor, a doctor and an engineer were waiting one morning for a
particularly slow group of golfers.

Engineer: What's with these guys? We must have been waiting for 15 minutes!

Doctor: I don't know, but I've never seen such ineptitude!

Pastor: Hey, here comes the greenskeeper. Let's have a word with him.
[dramatic pause] Hi George. Say, what's with that group ahead of us? They're
rather slow, aren't they?

George: Oh, yes, that's a group of blind firefighters. They lost their sight saving our clubhouse from a fire last year, so we always let them play for free anytime.

The group was silent for a moment.

Pastor: That's so sad. I think I will say a special prayer for them tonight.

Doctor: Good idea. And I'm going to contact my ophthalmologist buddy and see if there's anything he can do for them.

Engineer: Why can't these guys play at night?

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November 01, 2006

The Real Charlie Brown

Funny, but I don't remember this particular version airing when I was a child.

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October 31, 2006

Halloween dessert for geeks

pumpkin pi.bmp

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Halloween images part 2

dr jekyll and mrs hyde.bmp


family reunion.bmp


low carb.bmp


merry thanksgivoween.bmp


peter peter.bmp


who died.bmp

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October 30, 2006

Damn cat

You don't have to own a cat to appreciate this one...

A couple was dressed and ready to go out for the evening.

They turned on a night light, turned on the phone answering machine, covered their pet parakeet and put the cat out in the backyard.

They phoned the local cab company and requested a taxi.

The taxi arrived and the couple opened the front door to leave their house. But as they were leaving, the cat they had put out into the yard scoots past the husband and back into the house.

The couple didn't want the cat shut in the house because she always tries to eat the parakeet and generally gets into too much mischief. The wife goes out to the taxi while the husband goes back inside to get the cat. The cat runs upstairs, the man in hot pursuit.

Waiting in the cab, the wife doesn't want the driver to know the house will be empty for the night. She explains to the driver that her husband will be out soon. "He's just going upstairs to say good-bye to my mother," she explains casually.

A few minutes later, the husband gets into the cab.

"Sorry I took so long", he says as they drive away. "The stupid bitch was hiding under the bed. I had to poke her with a broom stick to get her to come out! Then she tried to take off, so I grabbed her by the neck and I even had to wrap her in a blanket to keep her from scratching me! Boy, you'd think at her age, she wouldn't have that much fight left in her. But it worked. I hauled her fat ass downstairs and threw her out into the back yard!"

The cabdriver hit a parked car...

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Halloween images

baby ruth.bmpanger management.bmp


bed webber.bmpcant take it.bmp

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October 11, 2006

Which one does your cat listen to(part 6)?

Cat listening to Techno(on Ecstasy)

cat techno.gif

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October 09, 2006

Which one does your cat listen to(part 5)?

Cat listening to GANGSTA RAP

cat gangsta rap.gif

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October 04, 2006

Which one does your cat listen to(part 4)?

Cat listening to Stevie Wonder

cat stevie wonder.gif

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Which one does your cat listen to(part 3)?

Cat listening to Metal

cat metal.gif

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Which one does your cat listen to(part 2)?

Cat listening to Hip Hop

cat hip hop.gif

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Which one does your cat listen to(part 1)?

Cat listening to HOUSE music

cat house.gif

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August 29, 2006

To be 6 again...

Received via email...
=================================================

A man was sitting on the edge of the bed, observing his wife, looking at herself in the mirror. Since her birthday was not far off he asked what she'd like to have for her Birthday.

"I'd like to be six again," she replied, still looking in the mirror.

On the morning of her Birthday, he arose early, made her a nice big bowl of Lucky Charms, and then took her to Six Flags theme park. What a day! He put her on every ride in the park; the Death Slide, the Wall of Fear, the Screaming Monster Roller Coaster, everything there was. Five hours later they staggered out of the theme park. Her head was reeling and her stomach felt upside down.

He then took her to a McDonald's where he ordered her a Happy Meal with extra fries and a chocolate shake.

Then it was off to a movie, popcorn, a soda pop, and her favorite candy, M&M's.

What a fabulous adventure! Finally she wobbled home with her husband and collapsed into bed exhausted. He leaned over his wife with a big smile and lovingly asked, "Well Dear, what was it like being six again??"

Her eyes slowly opened and her __expression suddenly changed. "I meant my dress size, you dumb ass!"

The moral of the story: Even when a man is listening, he is gonna get it wrong.

[Yes, I received this from a female. So what? It made me laugh.]

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August 28, 2006

Calmness in our lives

I am passing this on to you because it definitely works, and we could all use a little more calmness in our lives. By following simple advice heard on the Dr. Phil show, you too can find inner peace. Dr Phil proclaimed, "The way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you have started and have never finished."

So, I looked around my house to see all the things I started and hadn't finished, and before leaving the house this morning, I finished off a bottle of Merlot, a bottle of White Zinfandel, a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream, a bottle of Kahula, a package of Oreos, the remainder of my old Prozac prescription, the rest of the cheesecake, some Doritos and a box of chocolates.

You have no idea how freaking good I feel. Please pass this on to those whom you think might be in need of inner peace.

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August 25, 2006

I don't know what they're paying these guys...

But it isn't enough

Here's a new game show that's specifically designed for modern day eunuchs.

I don't know any guy who would willingly subject himself to potential downside of being a contestant.

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August 18, 2006

Hope in our time

I believe in these difficult and mean-spirited times in which we live there needs to be a message of hope. Just a single image that speaks to us of love, harmony, peace and joy. An image that suggests the universal brotherhood of man. I have found that image, and I ask that all of you take a moment to be inspired by it.

image of hope.jpg

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August 12, 2006

IF DEAR ABBY WERE A MAN...

An oldie, but it still makes me laugh.
============================================


Q: My fiance still has feelings for his old girlfriends. I'm afraid he will not be faithful.

A: A man's capacity to love is boundless. It has been proven to increase with the number of sexual partners. Thus, by having a few other women, your partner is really increasing his love for you. Best thing to do is to buy him a nice, expensive present, cook him a nice meal and don't mention this aspect of his behavior.

Q: My husband has too many nights out with the boys.

A: This is perfectly natural behavior-And it should be encouraged. The man is a hunter and he needs to prove his prowess with other men. Far from being pleasurable, a night out with the boys is a stressful affair, and to get back to you is a relief for your partner. Just look back at how emotional and happy the man is when he returns to his stable home. Best thing to do is to buy him a nice, expensive present, cook him a nice meal and don't mention this aspect of his behavior.

Q: My husband wants to experience three-in-a-bed-sex with me and my sister.

A: Your husband is clearly devoted to you. He cannot get enough of you, so he goes for the next best thing - your sister. Far from being an issue, this will bring all of the family together. Why not get some cousins involved? If you are still apprehensive, then let him go with your relatives, buy him a nice, expensive present, cook him a nice meal and don't mention this aspect of his behavior.

Q: My husband continually asks me to perform oral sex with him.

A: Do it. Sperm is not only great tasting, but has only 10 calories a spoonful. It is nutritious and helps you to keep your figure and gives a great glow to the skin. Interestingly, a man knows this. His offer to you to perform oral sex with him is totally selfless. Oral sex is extremely painful for a man. This shows he loves you. Best thing to do is to thank him, buy him a nice, expensive present, and cook him a nice meal.

Q: My husband goes straight to sleep after making love - we have no time to talk.
A: Sex is an extremely difficult task for a man. Afterwards he needs rest. In fact, the more he loves you, the more hard work his lovemaking is, and the more rest he needs. Stop putting pressure on him. Best thing to do is to buy him a nice, expensive present, cook him a nice meal and don't mention this aspect of his behavior.

Q: My husband's efforts at lovemaking only last 30 seconds.

A: Your husband loves you very much. He is so turned on by you that he cannot control himself. In fact, the shorter the 'effort' the more he loves you. Return this love by buying a nice, expensive present, cooking him a nice meal and not mentioning his behavior.

Q: My husband is uninterested in foreplay.

A: Foreplay to a man is very hurtful. What it means is that you do not love your man as much as you should-he has to work a lot to get you in the mood. Abandon all wishes in this area, and make it up to him by buying a nice expensive present, cooking a nice meal and not mentioning this behavior.

Q: My husband has never given me an orgasm.

A: The female orgasm is a myth. It is fostered by militant, man-hating feminists and is a danger to the family unit. Don't mention it again to him and show your love to him by buying a nice expensive present ..and don't forget to cook him a delicious meal.

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August 04, 2006

Take me to your leader

Found in an old email...
==================================================

Two aliens land in Metro Detroit, and they happen to land next to a gas station. So, the aliens waddle out of their ship and look around.

The first thing they see that resembles a human being is the gas pump. The two aliens approach and the first one says "Earthling, take me to your leader!" Of course he gets no response...

The first alien looks at his buddy then addresses the pump again. "Earthling, I said take me to your leader!" Of course, still no response...

The alien then turns to his buddy and says "If this Earthling doesn't show me some respect and at least acknowledge me, I'm going to blast him!"

At that the second alien replies, "OK. I'm just going to stand down on the next block."

The first Alien looks a little puzzled, but waits for the other to waddle to the next block. He then addresses the pump a third time.

"Earthling take me to your leader!" Still nothing. So the alien then pulls out his ray gun and vaporizes the pump...

The gas station goes up in a huge explosion, blowing the alien all the way down the block to his buddy. He gets up, dusts himself off, and turns to the second Alien. "If you knew that was going to happen why didn't you warn me!?"

The second replies "Well, I didn't know exactly *what* was going to happen. But there's no way I'm gonna' mess with a guy whose dick hangs to the ground, wraps around his body twice, and is still long enough to stick in his left ear.

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July 31, 2006

Microsoft Mouse for women

Yeah, it's a repost, but what can you do?
===============================

Yes, this post is likely to get me whacked by some humorless people out there.
---------------------------------

Stuck for the perfect gift for your female friends?


Then try the new and improved ‚ÄėMouse for Women‚Äô.

Given the difficulties with the utilisation of the standard mouse experienced by women, the leading computer companies IBM and Microsoft have joined forces to try to find a solution to the problem.

Both companies, after many years of research and experimentation into the needs of women of all ages, have created a new mouse (ergonomically designed for female hands) and it has already had a great impact among the female population of computer users, finally ending years of problems caused by previous designs.

Introducing the new ‚ÄėMouse for Women‚Äô‚Ķ..

female_mouse.JPG

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July 23, 2006

AOL INTERVIEW WITH THE EASTER BUNNY

Found the following buried in an email from about 10 years ago. The author is purportedly John Scalzi, author of Old Man's War and The Ghost Brigades, both of which I highly recommend. In any event, here goes:


With the possible exception of Santa Claus himself, there is not a busier mammal on the face of the earth than the Easter Bunny. Once a year, the Easter Bunny hops into the home of hundreds of millions of boys and girls all over the globe, dropping off chocolates, candy and eggs as part of the celebration of Easter. America Online spent a few minutes with the Easter Bunny as he was preparing for this year's task, for a tell-all, no-holds-barred interview. If you thought you knew the Easter Bunny, you just may be surprised.

America Online: Thanks for talking to us.

Easter Bunny: No problem. Do you mind if I eat while we talk? (takes out a packet of small green pellets) I've been in a rush recently.

AOL: Go right ahead. We've got a list of questions here, compiled from our members, and I'll just go down the list if you don't mind.

EB: Ready when you are.

AOL: The first question comes from Ted, in Dayton, Ohio. He writes: "We all now that Santa's Workshop is located at the North Pole. Does the Easter Bunny have a workshop, and if so, where is it located?"

EB: Well, Ted, the answer is yes, I do have a workshop. It's located in San Bernardino, California.

AOL: San Bernardino?

EB: That's right.

AOL: You have to understand that most people would have figured some place like Easter Island.

EB: Have you *been* to Easter Island? What a rock! It's the single most isolated piece of land on the planet. By the time we shipped fresheggs there, we'd have chickens. Besides, San Bernardino has the sort of motivated labor pool we need.

AOL: Elves?

EB: Laid-off aerospace workers.

AOL: They would seem to be a little overqualified.

EB: Maybe. But now we have some lovely chocolate stealth bombers.

AOL: Our next question comes from Cindy, in Tempe. She writes: "Why is the Easter Bunny a bunny? Why couldn't it have been the Easter Kitty,or the Easter Puppy?"

EB: That's a very good question. In fact, in the late 70s, we as an organization decided to play around with the whole "bunny" thing by recruiting prominent local animals to deliver Easter baskets. In 1978, when the experiment was at its height, we had an Easter Bunny, an Easter Coyote, an Easter Manatee and an Easter Komodo Dragon.

AOL: What happened?

EB: It just didn't work out. The komodo dragon ate the eggs, the coyote just flaked out, and the manatee, if I may say so, was just about as dumb as a stick. There were some other problems with the program, too. The less we talk about the whole Easter Man-Eating Bengali Swamp Tiger episode, the better. Now we stick with bunnies. We know bunnies. We can work with bunnies. Bunnies don't eat anyone.

AOL: Bob in Honolulu asks: "Is there is just one Easter Bunny? Moreover, has the same Easter Bunny been the Easter Bunny for the last couple of millenia?"

EB: The fact of the matter is that there are quite a few Easter Bunnies, and we've never made a secret about that. Unlike the Santa Claus operation, which works under the improbable assumption that one guy delivers all those presents -

AOL: Are you saying that Santa is a sham?

EB: I didn't say that. I never said that. What I am saying is that *we* don't work under the same sort of constraints. I mean, think about it. One bunny delivering baskets to several hundred million homes across the planet? The friction from the atmosphere alone would turn the poor guy into a bunny briquette. There'd be hideous charcoal smudges all over the baskets. "Easter Bunny" is a job description, not a proper name. It's like "Postal Carrier," except our employees very rarely become disgruntled.

AOL: So why are you THE Easter Bunny?

EB: Because I'm boss. You're not an Easter Bunny until I say you are.

AOL: How does one become an Easter Bunny?

EB: Well, it's not just hopping down the bunny trail, I'll tell you. First, for reasons already explained, you have to be a bunny. After that, we have a psychological evaluation and a battery of physical tests you have to pass. We can't afford to have an Easter Bunny cramp up at the beginning of his run.

AOL: Any famous rabbits turned down for the job?

EB: I don't want to name names. But one bunny who's making a living in the breakfast cereal industry, we had to let go. Any time a child would try to get an Easter basket from him, he'd back away and start snarling. He was a silly rabbit. Easter baskets are for kids.

AOL: He seems to have gotten better since then.

EB: Prozac helps.

AOL: Albert from Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, wants to know what are the occupational hazards of being the Easter Bunny.

EB: There are several. Large dogs are always a problem, of course: one moment you're delivering a basket of goodies, the next, a rottweiler named Pinochet is on you like a meat-filled sock. Nervous homeowners with guns wing a couple of bunnies a year, as do edgy cops and private security guards. We don't even bother trying to deliver to the children of militia members anymore; first they'll plug you for being on their land, then they'll make you into jerky and a pair of gloves. But you know what our number one problem is?

AOL: What?

EB: Sliding glass doors. Sometimes we'll just forget they're there. Man, that's embarrassing.

AOL: Here's an interesting question, from Amy, in New York City. She writes:
"How does the Easter Bunny get along with Santa Claus? It seems like Santa gets all the attention."
And I have to say, I did notice some tension earlier, when you brought him up.

EB (Looking uncomfortable): Well, you know, look. I don't want to say anything bad about the guy. He does what he does, and I do what I do. Professionally, we get along fine.

AOL: But privately?

EB: Is that tape recorder turned off?

AOL: Uh.....sure.

EB: He's a big ol' pain in this bunny's bottom. For one thing, he's a prima donna: always me, me, me, where's my highball, where's my corned beef sandwich, tell this dumb bunny to get his own dressing room. I'd rather be trapped in a sack with Joan Crawford. For another, he's totally paranoid of other large men. He thinks that Luciano Pavarotti is trying to move into his territory. Last year it was John Goodman. He actually danced when Orson Welles kicked, waving his pistol and bellowing "Rosebud!" from the top of his lungs.

AOL: Wow. He seems a little scary.

EB: You think? And yet he gets all the publicity. Why? We do the same job. Mine's actually tougher, since I'm moving perishable stuff. You can't have bad eggs or stale chocolate, you know. Folks wouldn't stand for it. I have to maintain strict quality control. The only food product he has to worry about is fruitcake. You could tile the Space Shuttle with fruitcake.

AOL: We're sure you have your own fans.

EB: It's like opening for the Beatles, is all. And he *is* the walrus, if you know what I mean.

AOL: One final question, from Pat, in Rockford, Illinois; "Does the Easter Bunny actually lay eggs? How does that happen, since the Easter Bunny is both male and a mammal?"

EB: Well, platypuses are mammals, and they lay eggs. So it's not impossible.

AOL: That still leaves the male part.

EB: We're quibbling on details, here.

AOL: Maybe there should be an Easter Platypus.

EB: Sorry. We tried that in '78.

Update: John Scalzi dropped by the comments and verified that he is indeed the author of the piece above. I'm going to send him an email asking if it's okay for me to leave the piece posted here, as long as I give him the appropriate credit.

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Top 18 signs that you've hired the wrong clown for your child's party

18. By the end of the party, he's got every damn kid doing the "pull my finger" trick.

17. Clown car must be started with breathalizer device.

16. Keeps screaming, "My name's not BO-zo, it's bo-ZO!"

15. References to Kierkegaard and Nietzsche are lost on most 5 year olds.

14. Props for his "disappearing" trick: a moving van and your wide-screen
TV.

13. Scares the holy hell outta the kids during the "Severed Limb" trick.

12. Tells the kids he killed Barney in a blood match in Newark

11. Didn't bring balloons but managed to twist your dachshund into other
animal shapes.

10. Prefaces each trick with, "Here's a little number I learned in the
joint."

9. NOt exactly the Peewee Herman impression you were expecting.

8. Wears a t-shirt that says, "Drug-free since March!"

7. More interested in squirting seltzer into his Scotch than in his pants.

6. Those huge ears look too darn life-like, and the entire act consists of
showing charts and
complaining about the deficit.

5. A sad clown is one thing - a clown who spends the entire party with a
gun to his temple is another
thing entirely.

4. Only balloon animals he can make are a snake and a "snake on acid."

3. Business cards include the phrase, "From the mind of Stephen King."

2. Price list includes "lap dance" and "around the world."
and the number 1 sign you've hired the wrong clown for your child's party
. .
1. All the balloon animals are ribbed and lubricated.

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July 05, 2006

Getting old

Two elderly gentlemen from a retirement center were sitting on a bench under a tree when one turns to the other and says:

"Slim, I'm 83 years old now and I'm just full of aches and pains. I know you're about my age. How do you feel?"

Slim says, "I feel just like a newborn baby."

"Really!? Like a newborn baby!?"

"Yep. No hair, no teeth, and I think I just wet my pants. "

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July 03, 2006

Band Aids

An Irishman staggered home late after another evening at the pub with his drinking buddies. Shoes in left hand to avoid waking his wife, he tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step in the darkened entryway.

As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.

Managing to suppress a yelp, the man sprung up, pulled down his pants, and examined his lacerated and bleeding cheeks in the mirror of a nearby darkened hallway, then managed to find a large full box of Band-aids and proceeded to place a patch as best he could on each place he saw blood.

After hiding the now almost empty box, he managed to shuffle and stumble his way to bed.

In the morning, the man awoke with searing pain in head and butt and his wife staring at him from across the room.

She said, "You were drunk again last night."

Forcing himself to ignore his agony, he looked meekly at her and replied, ‚ÄúNow, hon, why would you say such a mean thing?‚ÄĚ

"Well," she said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but, mostly....it's all those damn Band-aids stuck on the downstairs mirror.

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June 30, 2006

Redesigning your website?

Then the time breakdown in the graphic below should look very familiar to you. Click on the thumbnail below for a larger image:

time_breakdown

Found via this guy.

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June 28, 2006

A new disease rears its ugly head

Received via email this morning:

Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder: IT CAN HAPPEN TO YOU!

Recently, I was diagnosed with A.A.A.D.D. - Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder.

This is how it manifests:

I decide to water my garden.

As I turn on the hose in the driveway, I look over at my car and decide it needs washing.

As I start toward the garage, I notice mail on the porch table that I brought up from the mail box earlier.

I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car.

I lay my car keys on the table, put the junk mail in the garbage can under the table, and notice that the can is full.

So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the garbage first.

But then I think, since I'm going to be near the mailbox when I take out the garbage anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.

I take my check book off the table, and see that there is only 1 check left.

My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house to my desk where I find the can of Coke I'd been drinking.

I'm going to look for my checks, but first I need to push the Coke aside so that I don't accidentally knock it over. The Coke is getting warm, and I decide to put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.

As I head toward the kitchen with the Coke, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye--they need water.

I put the Coke on the counter and discover my reading glasses that I've been searching for all morning.

I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I'm going to water the flowers.

I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly spot the TV remote. Someone left it on the kitchen table.

I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, I'll be looking for the remote, but I won't remember that it's on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I'll water the flowers.

I pour some water in the flowers, but quite a bit of it spills on the floor.

So, I set the remote back on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill.

Then, I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.

At the end of the day:

- The car isn't washed

- The bills aren't paid

- There is a warm can of Coke sitting on the counter

- The flowers don't have enough water,

- There is still only 1 check in my check book,

- I can't find the remote,

- I can't find my glasses,

- And I don't remember what I did with the car keys.

Then, when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I'm really baffled because I know I was busy all day, and I'm really tired.

I realize this is a serious problem, and I'll try to get some help for it, but first I'll check my e-mail.

Do me a favor. Forward this message to everyone you know, because I don't remember who I've sent it to.

I'm not laughing. Add in picking up children's toy and books and this pretty much captures my Saturdays.

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June 23, 2006

Exercise program for those getting on in years

I thought I would let you in on a little secret I've found for developing my arm and shoulder muscles.  You might wish to adopt this regimen, 3 days a week.
 
I started by standing outside behind the house, and with a 5 pound potato sack in each hand.  I extended my arms straight out to my sides and held them there as long as I could..
 
After a few weeks, I moved up to the 10 pound potato sacks,  then to 50 pound sacks, and finally I got to where I could lift a 100 pound potato sack in each hand and hold my arms straight our for more than a full minute.
 
Next, I started putting a few potatoes in each sack.   But I would caution you not to overdo it at this level.

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New technology

A new aid to rapid--almost magical--learning has made its appearance. Indications are that if it catches on all the electronic gadgets will be so much junk.

The new device is known as Built-in Orderly Organized Knowledge. The makers generally call it by its initials, BOOK(tm).

Many advantages are claimed over the old-style learning and teaching aids on which most people are brought up nowadays. It has no wires, no electric circuit to break down. No connection is needed to an electricity power point. It is made entirely without mechanical parts to go wrong or need replacement.

Anyone can use BOOK(tm), even children, and it fits comfortably into the hands. It can be conveniently used sitting in an armchair by the fire.

How does this revolutionary, unbelievably easy invention work?

Basically BOOK(tm) consists only of a large number of paper sheets. These may run to hundreds where BOOK(tm) covers a lengthy program of information. Each sheet bears a number in sequence, so that the sheets cannot be used in the wrong order.

To make it even easier for the user to keep the sheets in the proper order they are held firmly in place by a special locking device called a "binding".

Each sheet of paper presents the user with an information sequence in the form of symbols, which he absorbs optically for automatic registration on the brain. When one sheet has been assimilated a flick of the finger turns it over and further information is found on the other side. By using both sides of each sheet in this way a great economy is effected, thus reducing both the size and cost of BOOK(tm). No buttons need to be pressed to move from one sheet to another, to open or close BOOK(tm), or to start it working.

BOOK(tm) may be taken up at any time and used by merely opening it. Instantly it is ready for use. Nothing has to be connected up or switched on. The user may turn at will to any sheet, going backwards or forwards as he pleases. A sheet is provided near the beginning as a location finder for any required information sequence.

A small accessory, available at trifling extra cost, is the BOOK(tm)mark. This enables the user to pick up his program where he left off on the previous learning session. BOOK(tm)mark is versatile and may be used in any BOOK(tm).

The initial cost varies with the size and subject matter. Already a vast range of BOOK(tm)s is available, covering every conceivable subject and adjusted to different levels of aptitude. One BOOK(tm), small enough to be held in the hands, may contain an entire learning schedule.

Once purchased, BOOK(tm) requires no further upkeep cost; no batteries or wires are needed, since the motive power, thanks to an ingenious device patented by the makers, is supplied by the brain of the user.

BOOK(tm)s may be stored on handy shelves and for ease of reference the program schedule is normally indicated on the back of the binding.

Altogether the Built-in Orderly Organized Knowledge seems to have great advantages with no drawbacks. We predict a big future for it.

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June 16, 2006

Beer column

Are you familiar with Bruce Cameron? He's the guy who wrote 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter, which, in turn, became a sitcom. Anyway, he's been writing columns for a lot of years now and I just stumbled across the one where Bruce decides to take up a new hobby: brewing beer. I've reprinted it in its entirety here, along with the link to Bruce Cameron's website.


Ale's Well That Ends Well

Copyright 2001 W. Bruce Cameron http://www.wbrucecameron.com/

Believing that maybe it would help my relationship with my 12-year-old son if
we had a common hobby, I bought him a beer-making kit. My wife seemed to think that the situation called for female incredulity.

"You got your son a BEER-making kit?" she demands. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Hey, you were the one who said we needed to do more things together," I point out.

"So you picked drinking beer," she scoffs.

"Of course not. He'll only make it. I'LL be the one drinking it,"I respond. I hold my hands up in a representation of harmonious balance in the universe.

She fixes me with a scorching look that I recognize from early in our marriage, when I tried to train her to bring me snacks during football games,
but I will not be deterred. "It's very scientific," I declare. "Fermentation. Carbonation."

"Intoxication?"

My son is even less enthusiastic. "It smells bad; you DRINK this stuff?" he sniffs, stirring the batch of malt and hops.

"Yes, but not until there is alcohol in it," I explain with fatherly wisdom.

"Alcohol is a by-product of fermentation," he quotes, looking through the little handbook. He squints at me. "You'll be drinking yeast pee."

"Real men don't read directions," I advise.

When we're finished, my home brew sits tightly sealed in a plastic keg.

"This is the pressure valve," I lecture my son. "The yeast builds up carbon dioxide, which escapes out the valve; otherwise there would be an explosion that would level houses in a four-block area."

I'm hoping this will excite him, but he's been reading the manual again. "Carbon dioxide is another waste by-product," he intones.

"Yes."

"In other words, yeast farts."

For three days, the mixture sits implacably inside the plastic vessel, as exciting as a bucket of paint. Concerned, I sneak in a little more sugar to get the yeast motivated. "You're not supposed to do that, Dad," my son warns.

The next day, the yeast have suddenly sprung to life, bubbling and hissing as
they busily produce waste products. Impatient, I pull on the little tap, pouring an ounce of muddy liquid into a glass and taking a sip.

"Does it taste like beer?" my son asks anxiously.

"Maybe beer that's already been through somebody," I respond ruefully.

That night my son prods me awake. "Dad, the beer is calling you."

My wife gives me a frown, as this is exactly the excuse I give her whenever I
meet my buddies at the sports bar. "What do you mean?"I ask him.

He shrugs. "You sort of need to come hear it. It's making noises."

My wife puts her hand on my arm. "Could it be dangerous?" she inquires anxiously.

I laugh. "Of course not. How could beer be dangerous? Beer Is Our Friend."

I follow my son out into the kitchen and, at his urging, put my ear to the plastic keg. He's right: There is some sort of creaking noise emitting from the seams around the edge of the thing. Through the thick, dark plastic, I can see that the yeast has rioted, filling the vessel with foam.

"Maybe you put in too much sugar," he worries. "Should I start calling people
in a four-block area?"

"Nonsense. More sugar just means a higher alcohol content. How could that be bad?" But his question has drawn my attention to the filter, which should be allowing yeast farts to escape. Instead, it looks locked in place, a little button that should be bobbing up and down.

I reach out a finger.

"Dad " my son starts to say.

The moment I pry at the valve it fires straight up like a bullet, the little button gone in an instant. The entire contents of the keg follow half a second later, a thick spray of foam coating everything in the kitchen. I don't even have time to blink and it is over, except that a steady rain of gooey sludge comes down on my head from the ceiling.

Tilting my jaw, I'm able to catch a few drops in my mouth. My wife bursts into the kitchen and stares at me, shocked.

"Not bad," I tell her, licking my lips.

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May 12, 2006

A somewhat different take

I loved the Chronicles of Narnia movie. I even pointed out to my wife that the light pole came from [SPOILER REMOVED!!] when [EDITED FOR SPOILERS]. Anyway, Jay Pinkerton has a slightly different take on it. Excerpt to follow, but you need to read the whole thing so that I won't be the only person holding in gales of laughter at work.


Narnia, on the other hand, is like the K-Mart discount bin of mythology. Every monster or creature you've ever heard of is incoherently tossed in with the animal kingdom, and now they all talk. I like fantasy as much as the next sixth level cleric, but the bare minimum for me is knowing the author gave his ridiculous shit more thought than I'll have to. Narnia comes off like a shitty Trapper-Keeper drawing by a twelve-year-old who plays Dungeons & Dragons and really likes the zoo. In one scene a pair of badgers have a conversation with Santa Claus, and in another a human on a talking horse does battle with the White Witch of the North while griffins divebomb centaurs, and your head’s just spinning from the random senselessness of it.

Let me break this down for Harry Potter fans, since there seem to be a lot of you: it'd be like if someone rewrote the Harry Potter books, and instead of having a clearly defined world populated by a hierarchy of wizards and witches where everything makes consistent sense within the reality of that world, Harry Potter was suddenly teaming up with Merlin, Robin Hood and Zeus to fight the Easter Bunny and a talking elephant that's also Ganesha. I hope your reaction would be "What the fuck?"


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May 11, 2006

I laughed, I cried.

It was better than Cats

The Only News Source You'll Ever Need posts a thoughtful essay about the dish best served cold. And by thoughtful, I mean fat and gay. Just an FYI.

I could excerpt from the damned thing, but I'd rather someone else get busted at work for laughing at crap like this.

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Latest problem

And, finally, Washington insiders are talking about a terrorist captured at the airport in Little Rock, Ark. He claimed to be a teacher, but Transportation Security Administration authorities found in his possession a compass, protractor and calculator. He has been identified by the Justice Department as belonging to the notorious al-Gebra group and charged with carrying weapons of math instruction.

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An oldie, but...

Two priests are off to the showers late one night. They undress and step into the showers before they realize there is no soap.  Father Bill says he has soap in his room and goes to get it, not bothering to dress.  He grabs two bars of soap, one in each hand and heads back to the showers.

He is halfway down the hall when he sees three nuns heading his way.  Having no place to hide, he stands against the wall and freezes like he's a statue.  The nuns stop and comment on how lifelike he looks.  The first nun cannot resist temptation, suddenly reaches out and pulls on his manhood.  Startled, he drops one of the bars of soap. "Oh look" says the first nun, "its a soap dispenser."

To test her theory the second nun also pulls on his manhood.  Sure enough, he drops the second bar of soap.

The third nun decides to have a go. She pulls once, then twice and three times but nothing happens.  So she gives several more tugs, then yells! "Mary, Mother of God - Hand Lotion too!"

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April 27, 2006

How to look happy at work

Via a coworker:

Obligatory Office Equipment (OOE)

"Keep On Smiling"

Another sensational idea for office equipment!


  • Workload getting to you ?
  • Feeling stressed ?
  • Too many initiatives ‚Äúcascading‚ÄĚ down ?

    Here is the new low cost way to cope !

    Take 2 paperclips and elastic bands. (Fig. 1)

    supplies.jpg

    Assemble them as shown on the picture.(Fig. 2)

    assembly.jpg

    Apply the construction as visualized in Fig. 3


    apply.jpg

    Enjoy your day. This obligatory office equipment will help you to reach the end of the day with a smile on your face!

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April 06, 2006

I didn't expect this

Then again, who would? I give you Brittlelactica, Planet in Need.

Be sure to visit all of the planetoids in the system. You will need data to more fully appreciate the great Da Iry.

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April 04, 2006

Get your new bathing suits here!

And they're specifically for men. Check out the images below the fold:

suit001.jpg

Hubba Hubba

suit002.jpg

WOOO HOOO!

suit003.jpg

And you thought Speedos were bad.

I really need to kick a friend's ass for sending this stuff to me.

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April 03, 2006

This week's sign that the Apocalypse is upon us

I give you the newest Linux OS: BarbieOS 0.99. Excerpt:


Making a bid for a piece of the emerging desktop Linux market, Mattel, Inc. announced the immediate availability of downloadable beta ISOs for BarbieOS 0.99, and said it hoped the final 1.0 retail version would be on store shelves in time for Christmas. The new OS was created by Mattel to power the upcoming revision of its popular B-Book line of laptops for girls between the ages of four and eleven. The original B-Book laptop, which ran a modified version of PalmOS, was a huge hit with consumers last holiday season, so much so that many stores had trouble keeping them in stock. This year, Mattel is upping the ante by making the B-Book into a full-fledged desktop replacement targeted specifically at toddler through preteen girls who are currently Windows users but may be seeking alternatives, possibly due to increasing licensing fees or out of a desire to break free of vendor lock-in.

BarbieOS, based on Debian Linux, had been in private beta for more than six months prior to yesterday's public release. Initial reaction to the company's announcement has been mixed, as some analysts have claimed that the desktop Linuxmarket is already over-saturated given its current size, as other major players such as Lycoris Desktop/LX, Xandros Linux, and LindowsOS are already competing for the rather small percentage of home desktop users willing to try a non-Microsoft OS. Still, Mattel says it is confident of the potential of BarbieOS 1.0 to find a niche market of young girls under thirteen who are dissatisfied with current Microsoft offerings and are looking toward maybe asking mom and dad for a full-powered Linux laptop running BarbieOS this Christmas.

Found via Slashdot.

Open the extended entry for more information:

Did you notice the date in the Slashdot article???

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March 23, 2006

My life is in danger

As are most of your's, I'll wager. Check out the proof below:

stupid proof.jpg

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March 22, 2006

Belated St. Patrick's Day jumor

"I've Lost Me Luggage"

An Irishman arrived at J.F.K. Airport and wandered around the terminal with tears streaming down his cheeks. An airline employee asked him if he was already homesick.

"No," replied the Irishman "I've lost all me luggage!"

"How'd that happen?"

"The cork fell out!" said the Irishman.

*****************************************************
"Water to Wine"

An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut. The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest's breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car.

He says, "Sir, have you been drinking?"

"Just water," says the priest.

The trooper says, "Then why do I smell wine?"

The priest looks at the bottle and says, "Good Lord! He's done it again!"

***********************************************
"The Brothel"

Two Irishmen were sitting at a pub having beer and watching the brothel across the street.

They saw a Baptist minister walk into the brothel, and one of them said, "Aye, 'tis a shame to see a man of the cloth goin' bad." Then they saw a rabbi enter the brothel, and the other Irishman said, "Aye, 'tis a shame to see that the Jews are fallin' victim to temptation as well." Then they see a Catholic priest enter the brothel, and one of the Irishmen said, "What a terrible pity...one of the girls must be dying."

*************************************
Irish Cemetery

Three Irishmen, Paddy, Sean and Seamus, were stumbling home from the pub late one night and found themselves on the road which led past the old graveyard..

"Come have a look over here," says Paddy, "It's Michael O'Grady's grave, God bless his soul. He lived to the ripe old age of 87." "That's nothing," says Sean, "here's one named Patrick O'Toole, it says here that he! was 95 when he died"!

Just then, Seamus yells out, "Good God, here's a fella that got to be 145!" "What was his name?" asks Paddy.

Seamus stumbles around a bit, awkwardly lights a match to see what else is written on the stone marker, and exclaims, "Miles, from Dublin."

***************************************************
Irish Predicament

Drunk Ole Mulvihill (From the Northern Irish Clan) staggers into a Catholic Church, enters a confessional box, sits down but says nothing.

The Priest coughs a few times to get his attention but the Ole just sits there.

Finally, the Priest pounds three times on the wall.

The drunk mumbles, "ain't no use knockin, there's no paper on this side either."

***************************************************
Irish Last Request

Mary Clancy goes up to Father O'Grady's after his Sunday morning service, and she's in tears.

He says, "So what's bothering you, Mary my dear?"

She says, "Oh, Father, I've got terrible news. My husband passed away last night."

The priest says, "Oh, Mary, that's terrible. Tell me, did he have any last requests?"

She says, "That he did, Father..."

The priest says, "What did he ask, Mary?"

She says, "He said, 'Please Mary, put down that gun!'

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Coffee anyone?

Directions:


  1. Click the link below(Coffee Machine)
  2. Put the coin in the vending machine
  3. Choose your drink
  4. Click on the cup when it is ready
  5. Click on "APRI"

Coffee machine.

So it's infantile. What, you expected more from me?

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February 14, 2006

Roller coaster mania

Dear old mom sent me the following images for the ginormous Top Thrill Dragster at Cedar Point in Ohio:


coaster001.jpg

coaster002.jpg

coaster003.jpg

coaster004.jpg

coaster005.jpg

coaster006.jpg

And now for the coup de grace.

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January 27, 2006

Visually speaking part X

See if you can guess what the image below represents.

Note: Good Popeye guess in part IX. No cigar, but a good guess nonetheless.

knightmare.jpg

(K)nightmare.

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January 25, 2006

Visually speaking part IX

Look at the picture below and see if you can guess what it represents. Answer is in the extended entry.

I pod.jpg

I-pod.

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January 24, 2006

Things to do when you're retired

Received via email:


Working people frequently ask retired people what they do to make their days interesting. I went to the store the other day. I was in there for only about 5 minutes. When I came out, there was a cop writing out a parking ticket. I went up to him and said, "Come on, buddy, how about giving a senior a break?"

He ignored me and continued writing the ticket. I called him a Nazi.

He glared at me and started writing another ticket for having worn tires. So, I called him a piece of dog sh*t.

He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he started writing a third ticket.

This went on for about 20 minutes. The more I abused him, the more tickets he wrote. Personally, I didn't give a damn. My car was parked around the corner. I try to have a little fun each day now that I'm retired. It's important at my age.

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January 19, 2006

Ask your doctor or pharmacist

Do you have feelings of inadequacy?

Do you suffer from shyness?

Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about Tequila. Tequila is the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions.

Tequila can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you're ready and willing to do just about anything.

You will notice the benefits of Tequila almost immediately, and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live. Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past, and you will discover many talents you never knew you had.

Stop hiding and start living, with Tequila.

Tequila may not be right for everyone.

Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Tequila.

However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.

Side effects may include: dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration, erotic lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing, loss of money, loss of virginity, delusions of grandeur, table dancing, headache, dehydration, dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all-night rounds of Strip Poker, Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister.

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Mheh

Get your T-shirts right here!

willynagin.jpg

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January 17, 2006

24 as it could have been

jack bauer.gif

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Visually speaking part VIII

gator aide.jpg

or

gator-aid.gif

Gatorade

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December 30, 2005

Visually speaking part VII

Look at the picture below and see if you can guess what it represents.

hole milk.jpg

Whole milk.

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December 29, 2005

Visually speaking part VI

Look at the picture below and see if you can guess what it represents.

king of pop.jpg

The King of pop.

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December 23, 2005

Merry Christmas, you hosers!

Out of the wayback machine come Bob and Doug Mackenzie:


Bob Okay, good day, this is our Christmas part of the album, and
you can play this at your Christmas parties, uh, or to yourself on
Christmas Eve, if there's nothing else to do.
Doug Good day, eh? In case you thought, like, I wasn't on this part!
Bob Oh, I guarantee ya, you'd be on. Okay, so, good day, this is the
Christmas part, and, we're gonna tell you what to get, uh, your true
love for Christmas.
Doug Look out the window!
Bob Where?! Whadda ya doing?
Doug Snow, hosehead.
Bob Wha? Oh, it's the Great White North, and it's snowing, cause it's
Christmas time. Hey, hoser!
Doug What?
Bob Here's a quiz. Quiz for Doug.
Doug Okay, I have my thinking touque on.
Bob Yeah, right. What are the twelve days of Christmas? Cause,
figure it out, right. Christmas is when?
Doug Uh, the 25th.
Bob Right, and what's the 24th, Christmas Eve, right? So, that's two.
And then, what's after that?
Doug Um... Uh, Wrestling Day.
Bob No. Get out.
Doug Boxing Day, yeah, yeah.
Bob That's three. Then what's after that? Nothing.
Doug New Year's.
Bob Four. And what's...
Doug New Year's Eve.
Bob Five. Where do you get twelve?
Doug Uh... There's two Saturdays and Sundays in there, that's four.
That's nine. And, three other days, which I believe are the mystery
days.
(Music starts.)
Bob Okay now. This is our Christmas song, in case you don't know
what to get somebody for Christmas.
Doug There's lots of ideas in here, so, listen, and don't get stuck.
Bob Okay.
Doug By the way, that's me on the organ.
Bob Aw, geez.
Doug You start.
Bob Okay. On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: a beer.
Doug On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: two turtlenecks,
Bob And a beer. (Okay...) On the third day of Christmas, my true
love gave to me: three French toast,
Doug Two turtlenecks,
Bob And a beer. (Okay...)
Doug There should be more there, eh?
Bob Where? On the... go.
Doug Fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: four pounds
of backbacon,
Bob Three French toast,
Doug Two turtlenecks,
Bob And a beer.
Doug In a tree. See, you need more.
Bob Fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: five golden
touques!
Doug Four pounds of backbacon,
Bob Three French toast,
Doug Two turtlenecks,
Bob And a beer, what was it?
Together In a tree!
Bob Okay, on the sixth... go.
Doug Of Christmas, my true love gave to me: six packs of two-four,
Bob & BG Singers Five golden touques!
Doug Four pounds of backbacon,
Bob Three French toast,
Doug Two turtlenecks,
Bob And a beer,
Together In a tree!
Bob Okay.
Doug Okay.
Bob On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
seven packs of smokes,
Doug (Nice gift...) Oh, six packs of two-four! (BG Singers also
sing "nice gift".)
Bob & BG Singers Five golden touques!
Doug Four pounds of backbacon,
Bob Three French toast,
Doug Two turtlenecks,
Bob And a beer,
Together In a tree!
Bob Right, I keep forgetting.
Doug Phew! This should just be the two days of Christmas, it's too
hard for us!
Bob Um...
Doug Go, hoser.
Bob Oh.
Together Eigth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
Doug Eight comic books,
All Seven packs of smokes, six packs of two-four,
(Bob and Doug become unsynchronized with the BG Singers, and quit singing.)
BG Singers Five golden touques! Four pounds of backbacon, three
French toast, two turtlenecks,
All And a beer,
Doug On my tree!
Bob Yeah. That beer's empty. Okay. Day,
BG Singers Twelve!
Bob Uh, twelve.
Doug Good day, and welcome to day twelve.
BG Singers Five golden touques!
All Four pounds of backbacon, three French toast, two turtlenecks,
and a beer, in a tree!
Bob Beauty, eh?
Doug Where'd you learn to do that?
Bob Uh, albums.
Doug Boy. So, like, that's our song, Merry Christmas...
Bob Merry Christmas!
Doug And good day!
Bob Good day, everybody. Happy New Year, too. Sheesh. Okay,
you know what you left out?
Doug What?
Bob Donuts - I told you to get me donuts! Either on the ninth day or
the tenth day, or the eleventh day, I wanted donuts!
Doug Okay, the song's over.
Bob But I want...
Doug Merry Christmas, everybody!
Bob Or on the twelfth day, you coulda got me a dozen donuts.
Doug So, go out to the stores, and get some presents.
Bob You coulda gone down to, like, the good donut shop, where if
you buy a dozen, you get another one free, and then thirteen for the
thirteen days of Christmas.
Doug Well, next Christmas, I'll get me a chainsaw...
Bob Take off!
Doug Boy, that song was a beauty. It moved me...
Bob Yeah, I think it ranks up there with Stairway to Heaven...
Doug Wha-?
(Music fades)

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December 22, 2005

Visually speaking part V

Look closely at the following picture and see if you can guess what word or phrase it represents:

assaulted peanut.jpg


Answer below the fold

Assaulted peanut.

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December 21, 2005

Is there a Santa(and the response)?

Don't say that I didn't warn you...
=====================================

                            IS THERE A SANTA CLAUS?

As a result of an overwhelming lack of requests, and with research help
from that renown scientific journal SPY magazine (January, 1990) - I am
pleased to present the annual scientific inquiry into Santa Claus.

1. No known species of reindeer can fly. But, there are 300,000
species of living organisms yet to be classified, and, while most of
these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out
flying reindeer (which only Santa has ever seen).

2. There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. But, since
Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and
Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - 378
million according to the Population Reference Bureau. At an average
(census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million
homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.

3. Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the
different time zones and the rotation of the earth; assuming he
travels east to west(which seems logical). This works out to
822.6 visits per second. This is to say that, for each Christian
household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second
to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the
stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat
whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into
the sleigh and move on to the next house. Assuming that each of
these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the earth,
(which, of course, we know to be false, but for the purposes
of our calculations we will accept) we are now talking
about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2 million miles,
not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once
every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc.

This means that Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second -
3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the
fastest man-made vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe,
moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second -a conventional reindeer
can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

4. The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element.
Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego
set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting
Santa (who is invariably described as overweight). On land,
conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting
that "flying reindeer" (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal
amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need
214,200 reindeer (a rounded figure). This increases the payload -
not even counting the weight of the sleigh - to 353,430 tons.
Again, for comparison, this is four times the weight of the Queen
Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch).

5. 353,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates an enormous
amount of heat when you factor in the air resistance - this will heat the
reindeer up in the same fashion as a spacecraft re-entering the earth's
atmosphere.

The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION
(14,300,000,000,000,000) joules of energy. Per second.
Each! In short, they will burst into flame almost
instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and create
deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team
will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second. Santa,
meanwhile, will be subjected to forces 17,500.06 times greater
than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim)
would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.

In conclusion - If Santa ever DID deliver presents on Christmas Eve,
he's dead now.
--------------------------------------------------------------

The response
-------------
The analysis you sent me about the death of Santa Claus, based on
classical physics, is seriously flawed owing to its neglect of
quantum phenomena that become significant in his particular case. As
it happens, the terminal velocity of a reindeer in dry December air
over the Northern Hemisphere (for example) is known with tremendous
precision. The mass of Santa and his sleigh (since the number of
children and their gifts is also known precisely, ahead of time, and
the reindeer must weigh in minutes before the flight) is also known
with tremendous precision. His direction of flight is, as you say,
essentially east to west.

All of that, when taken together, means that the momentum vector of
Mr Claus and his cargo is known with incredible precision. An
elementary application of Heisenberg's uncertainty principle yields
the result that Santa's location, at any given moment on Christmas
Eve, is highly imprecise. In other words, he is "smeared out" over
the surface of the earth, analogous to the manner in which an
electron is "smeared out" within a certain distance from the nucleus
in an atom. Thus he can, quite literally, be everywhere at any
given moment.

In addition, the relativistic velocities which his reindeer can
attain for brief moments make it possible for him, in certain cases,
to arrive at some locations shortly before he left the North Pole.
Santa, in other words, assumes for brief periods the characteristics
of tachyons. I will admit that tachyons remain hypothetical, but
then so do black holes, and who really doubts their existence
anymore?

Here is a link which contains lots and lots of rebuttals. People with less of a life than me. Go figure.

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A heart-warming Christmas story

'Tis the season for reposting.
Fa-la-la-la, la-la-la.

=================================================

My Christmas Story

Late last week, I was rushing around trying to get some last minute shopping
done. I was stressed out and not thinking very fondly of the Christmas
season right then. It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking lot as I was
loading my car up with gifts that I felt obligated to buy. I noticed that I
was missing a receipt that I might need later. So mumbling under my breath,
I retraced my steps to the mall entrance.

As I was searching the wet pavement for the lost receipt, I heard a quiet
sobbing. The crying was coming from a poorly dressed boy of about 12 years
old. He was short and thin. He had no coat. He was just wearing a ragged
flannel shirt to protect him from the cold night's chill. Oddly enough, he
was holding a hundred dollar bill in his hand. Thinking that he had gotten
lost from his parents, I asked him what was wrong.

He told me his sad story. He said that he came from a large family. He had
three brothers and two sisters. His father had died when he was nine years
old. His mother was poorly educated and worked two full time jobs. She made
very little to support her large family. Nevertheless, she had managed to
save two hundred dollars to buy her children Christmas presents. The young
boy had been dropped off on the way to her second job. He was to use the
money to buy presents for all his siblings and save just enough to take
the bus home.

He had not even entered the mall, when an older boy grabbed one of the
hundred dollar bills and disappeared into the night.

"Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked. The boy said, "I did." "And
nobody came to help you?" I wondered. The boy stared at the sidewalk and
sadly shook his head. "How loud did you scream?" I inquired. The soft-spoken
boy looked up and meekly whispered, "Help me!"

I realized that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry
forhelp.

So, I grabbed his other hundred and ran to my car.

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Martha Stewar holiday humor

And another from the not-so-wayback machine...
=================================

No holiday season would be complete without swatting the smug grin off of Martha Stewart's face. I give you the following:

When you read or listen to Martha Stewart's hints and advice, do you think to yourself "I could do that"? Then, you follow that thought with "What is wrong with me? Am I just a waste of good air?"

If this is you, then read on ...

MARTHA STEWART'S HOLIDAY CALENDAR

December 1
Blanch carcass from Thanksgiving turkey. Spray paint gold, turnupside
down and use as a sleigh to hold Christmas Cards.

December 2
Have Mormon Tabernacle Choir record outgoing Christmas message for
answering machine.

December 3
Using candlewick and handgilded miniature pine cones, fashion
cat-o-nine tails. Flog Gardener.

December 4
Repaint Sistine Chapel ceiling in ecru, with mocha trim.

December 5
Get new eyeglasses. Grind lenses myself.

December 6
Fax family Christmas newsletter to Pulitzer committee for
consideration.

December 7
Debug Windows '98

December 8
Decorate homegrown Christmas tree with scented candles handmade with
beeswax from my backyard bee colony.

December 9
Record own Christmas album complete with 4 part harmony and all instrument
accompaniment performed by myself. Mail to all my friends and loved
ones.

December 10
Align carpets to adjust for curvature of Earth.

December 11
Lay Faberge egg.

December 12
Erect ice skating rink in front yard using spring water I bottled
myself.

Open for neighborhood children's use. Create festive mood by
handmaking snow and playing my Christmas album.

December 13
Collect Dentures. They make excellent pastry cutters, particularly
for decorative pie crusts.

December 14
Install plumbing in gingerbread house.

December 15
Replace air in mini-van tires with Glade "holiday scents" in case
tires are shot out at mall.

December 17
Child proof the Christmas tree with garland of razor wire.

December 19
Adjust legs of chairs so each Christmas dinner guest will be same
height when sitting at his or her assigned seat.

December 20
Dip sheep and cows in egg whites and roll in confectioner's sugar to
add a festive sparkle to the pasture.

December 21
Drain city reservoir; refill with mulled cider, orange slices and
cinnamon sticks.

December 22
Float votive candles in toilet tank.

December 23
Seed clouds for white Christmas.

December 24
Do my annual good deed. Go to several stores. Be seen engaged in last
minute Christmas shopping, thus making many people feel less
inadequate than they really are.

December 25
Bear son. Swaddle. Lay in color-coordinated manger scented with
homemade potpourri.

December 26
Organize spice racks by genus and phylum.

December 27
Build snowman in exact likeness of God.

December 28
Take Dog apart. Disinfect. Reassemble.

December 29
Hand sew 365 quilts, each using 365 material squares I weaved myself
used to represent the 365 days of the year. Donate to local
orphanages.

December 30
Release flock of white doves, each individually decorated with olive
branches, to signify desire of world peace.

December 31
New Year's Eve! Give staff their resolutions. Call a friend in each
time zone of the world as the clock strikes midnight in that country.


==================================================
And a special letter to Santa. It's so good that I wish I had written it.

Dear Santa,

I rarely ask for much. This year is no exception. I don't need diamond earrings, handy slicer-dicers or comfy slippers. I only want one little thing, and I want it deeply. I want to slap Martha Stewart.

Now, hear me out, Santa. I won't scar her or draw blood or anything. Just one good smack, right across her smug little cheek. I get all cozy inside just thinking about it. Don't grant this wish just for me, do it for thousands of women across the country. Through sheer vicarious satisfaction, you'll be giving a gift to us all. Those of us leading average, garden variety lives aren't concerned with gracious living. We feel pretty good about ourselves if our paper plates match when we stack them on the counter, buffet-style for dinner. We're tired of Martha showing us how to make centerpieces from hollyhock dipped in 18 carat gold. We're plumb out of liquid gold. Unless it's of the furniture polish variety. We can't whip up Martha's creamy holiday sauce, spiced with turmeric. Most of us can't even say turmeric, let alone figure out what to do with it.

OK, Santa, maybe you think I'm being a little harsh. But I'll bet with all the holiday rush you didn't catch that interview with Martha in last week's USA Weekend. I'm surprised there was enough room on the page for her ego.

We discovered that not only does Martha avoid take-out pizza (she's only ordered it once), she refuses to eat it cold (No cold pizza? Is Martha Stewart Living?) When it was pointed out that she could microwave it, she replied, "I don't have a microwave." The reporter, Jeffrey Zaslow, noted that she said this "in a tone that suggests you shouldn't either."

Well lah-dee-dah. Imagine that, Santa!

That lovely microwave you brought me years ago, in which I've learned to make complicated dishes like popcorn and hot chocolate, has been declared undesirable by Queen Martha. What next? The coffee maker?

In the article, we learned that Martha has 40 sets of dishes adorning an entire wall in her home. Forty sets. Can you spell "overkill"? And neatly put away, no less. If my dishes make it to the dishwasher, that qualifies as "put away" in my house!

Martha tells us she's already making homemade holiday gifts for friends. "Last year, I made amazing silk-lined scarves for everyone," she boasts. Not just scarves, mind you. Amazing scarves. Martha's obviously not shy about giving herself a little pat on the back. In fact, she does so with such frequency that one has to wonder if her back is black and blue.

She goes on to tell us that "homemaking is glamour for the 90s," and says her most glamorous friends are "interested in stain removal, how to iron a monogram, and how to fold a towel." I have one piece of advice, Martha: "Get new friends." Glamorous friends fly to Paris on a whim. They drift past the Greek Islands on yachts, sipping champagne from crystal goblets. They step out for the evening in shimmering satin gowns, whisked away by tuxedoed chauffeurs. They do not spend their days pondering the finer art of toilet bowl sanitation.

Zaslow notes that Martha was named one of America's 25 most influential people by Time magazine (nosing out Mother Theresa, Madeline Allbright and Maya Angelou, no doubt).

The proof of Martha's influence: after she bought white-fleshed peaches in the supermarket, Martha says, "People saw me buy them. In an instant, they were all gone." I hope Martha never decides to jump off a bridge!

A guest in Martha's home told Zaslow how Martha gets up early to rollerblade with her dogs to pick fresh wild blackberries for breakfast. This confirms what I've suspected about Martha all along: She's obviously got too much time on her hands. Teaching the dogs to rollerblade. What a show off.

If you think the dogs are spoiled, listen to how Martha treats her friends: She gave one friend all 272 books from the Knopf Everyman Library. It didn't cost much. Pocket change, really. Just $5,000. But what price friendship, right? When asked if others should envy her, Martha replies, "Don't envy me. I'm doing this because I'm a natural teacher. You shouldn't envy teachers. You should listen to them." Zaslow must have slit a seam in Martha's ego at this point, because once the hot air came hissing out, it couldn't be held back. "Being an overachiever is nothing despicable. It is only admirable. Never lower your standards," says Martha. And of her Web Page on the Internet, Martha declares herself an "important presence" as she graciously helps people organize their sad, tacky little lives.

There you have it, Santa. If there was ever someone who deserved a good smack, it's Martha Stewart. But I bet I won't get my gift this year. You probably want to smack her yourself.

Sincerely,

A Hopeful "Child"

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Holiday images

Think of it as blog re-runs...
=========================

catching snowflakes (2).jpgholiday cheer2.JPGholiday cheer3.JPG


holiday cheer4.JPGholiday cheer5.JPG

holiday cheer6.JPGholiday cheer7.JPG

holiday cheer8.JPGholiday cheer9.JPG

holiday cheer10.JPGholiday cheer11.JPG

holiday cheer12.JPGholiday cheer13.JPG

holiday cheer.JPG

Update

: This OTB post has nothing in common with the twisted images above. I'm just hoping that some of James' readers will stop by. Huzzah for the Beltway Traffic Jam!

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December 20, 2005

How to tell if you've been really bad this year

Don't say I didn't warn you:

Santabad.jpg

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Breaking news

How ice cream cones are really made:

snowcone.gif

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Twelve days of Christmas

Not only did I post this last year, I've sent it out via email for more than 11 years. I promised you old and stale, and I've delivered ancient and decayed. No thanks are necessary.
===============================================

December 14, 1972

My dearest darling John:

Who ever in the whole world would dream of getting a real Partridge
in a Pear Tree? How can I ever express my pleasure. Thank you a
hundred times for thinking of me this way.

My love always,

Agnes
================================================

December 15, 1972

Dearest John:

Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine two
turtle doves. I'm just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They
are just adorable.

All my love,

Agnes
================================================

December 16, 1972

Dear John:

Oh! Aren't you the extravagant one. Now I must protest. I don't
deserve such generosity, three French hens. They are just darling
but I must insist, you've been too kind.


All my love,
Agnes
================================================

December 17, 1972

Dear John:

Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really, they are
beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough. You are being too
romantic.

Affectionately,

Agnes
================================================

December 18, 1972

Dearest John:

What a surprise. Today the postman delivered five golden rings, one for
every finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, all
those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves.

All my love,
Agnes
=================================================

December 19, 1972

Dear John:

When I opened the door today there were actually six geese laying on my
front steps. So you're back to the birds again huh? These geese are huge.
Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't
sleep through the racket. Please stop.


Cordially,
Agnes
================================================

December 20, 1972

John:

What's with you and those freaking birds?? Seven swans a swimming. What
kind of damn joke is this? There's bird poop all over the house and they
never stop the racket. I can't sleep at night and I'm a nervous wreck. It's
not funny. So stop those freaking birds.


Sincerely,
Agnes
================================================

December 21, 1972

O.K. Buster:

I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with 8
maids a milking? It's not enough with all those birds and 8 maids a
milking, but they had to bring their damn cows. There is manure all over the
lawn and I can't move in my own house. Just lay off me, smartass.

Agnes
================================================

December 22, 1972

Hey Shithead:

What are you.....some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers
playing. And Christ do they play. They've never stopped chasing
those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are
getting upset and they're stepping all over those screeching birds.
What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict
me.


You'll get yours !
Agnes
================================================

December 23, 1972

You rotten prick:

Now there's ten ladies dancing. I don't know why I call those sluts
ladies. They've been balling those pipers all night long. Now the
cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river
of shit. The Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause
why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm calling the police on you !


Agnes
================================================

December 24, 1972

Listen F--khead:

What's with those eleven lords a leaping on those maid and ladies?
Some of those broads will never walk again. Those pipers ran through the
maids and have been committing sodomy with the cows. All twenty-three
of the birds are dead. They've been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope
you're satisfied, you rotten vicious swine.

You're sworn enemy,
Agnes
================================================

December 25, 1972

Dear Sir:

This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling
which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes
McHolstein. The destruction, of course, was total. All
correspondence should come to our attention. If you should
attempt to reach Miss McHolstein at Happy Dale Sanitarium,
the attendants have been instructed to shoot you on sight.

With this letter please find attached a warrant for your arrest.

Cordially,

Law Offices of Badger, Bender and Chole

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Holiday party

In honor of the current anti-Christmas PC climate in today's society:

Holiday Party

FROM: Ms.Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

TO: Everyone

RE: Christmas Party

DATE: December 1

I'm happy to inform you that the office Christmas Party will

take place on December 22, starting at noon in the banquet

room at Luigi's Open Pit Barbecue. No-host bar, but plenty of

eggnog! We'll have a small band playing traditional carols...

feel free to sing along. And don't be surprised if our General Manager shows up dressed as Santa Claus!

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 4

RE: Christmas Party

In no way was yesterday's memo intended to exclude our Jewish

employees. We recognize that Chanukah is an important holiday

which often coincides with Christmas, though unfortunately not

this year. However, from now on we're calling it our "Holiday Party."

The same policy applies to employees who are celebrating Kwanzaa

at this time. Happy now?

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 5

RE: Holiday Party

Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous

requesting a non-drinking table...you didn't sign your name. I'm happy

to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table that

reads,"AAOnly," you wouldn't be anonymous anymore. How am I

supposed to handle this? Somebody?

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 6

RE: Holiday Party

What a diverse company we are! I had no idea that November 27

was the beginning of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which

forbids eating, drinking and intimacy during daylight hours. There

goes the party! Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon

this time of year does not accommodate our Muslim employees beliefs.

Perhaps Luigi's can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the

party, or else package everything for take-home in little foil swans.

Will that work? Meanwhile, I've arranged for members of Overeaters

Anonymous to sit farthest from the dessert buffet and pregnant

women will get the table closest to the restrooms. Did I miss anything?

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 7

RE: Holiday Party

So December 21 marks the Winter Solstice...what do you expect me

to do, a tap-dance on your heads? Fire regulations at Luigi's prohibit

the burning of sage by our "earth-based Goddess worshipping"

employees, but we'll try to accommodate your shamanic drumming

circle during the band's breaks. Okay???

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 8

RE: Holiday Party

People, people, nothing sinister was intended by having our GM

dress up like Santa Claus! Even if the anagram of "Santa" does

happen to be Satan," there is no evil connotation to our own

"little man in a red suit." It's a tradition, folks, like sugar shock

at Halloween or family feuds over the Thanksgiving turkey or

broken hearts on Valentine's Day. Could we lighten up?

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 11

RE: Holiday Party

Vegetarians!? I've had it with you people! We're going to keep

this party at Luigi's Open Pit Barbecue whether you like it or not,

so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill of death,"

as you so quaintly put it, and you'll get your #$%^&*! salad bar,

including hydroponic tomatoes...but you know, they have feelings,

too. Tomatoes scream when you slice them. I've heard them scream,

I'm hearing them scream right now!

FROM: Karen Jones, Acting Human Resources Director

DATE: December 12

RE:Ms. Pat Smith and Holiday Party

I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing Pat Smith a speedy recovery

from her stress-related illness and I'll continue to forward your cards

to her at the sanitarium. In the meantime, management has decided

to cancel our Holiday Party and give everyone the afternoon of the

22nd off with full pay.

Happy Holidays

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Rudolph?

A cure for beal: reposting old stuff from last year. Sure saves me a lot of effort...
=========================================

Rudolph was a four-hoofed ungulate, who, incidentally, possessed
a nasal appendage of a maroon luster. Consequently, if
circumstances were to present themselves that he ever came into
your view, you would most undoubtedly remark at to its luminary
qualities.

The multitude of other members of the population in his
ecological community had previously teased, chuckled
boisterously, and dubbed him unspeakable pseudonyms -- the
objective of which was to lower his self-esteem and make him
miserable. They also excluded him from participation in leisure
activities consistent with their species.

However, on the twenty-fourth of December in an unspecified year,
a mythological, supernatural being inherent to western culture
(who symbolizes the Christmas attitude and allegedly brings gifts
to children) arrived through the supersaturated, humid air, spoke
to Rudolph and formally invited him, due to his extraordinary
nasal characteristic to stand at the forefront of his snow
vehicle with the express purpose that he navigate through the
nocturnal mist.

At that point, the multitude of other members of the population
in his ecological community who had previously teased, chuckled
boisterously, and dubbed him unspeakable pseudonyms, reversed
their disposition toward Rudolph to a more congenial, amicable
relationship. They consequently exclaimed with great exaltation
and fervor, "Rudolph, the antlered mammal with a maroon nasal
appendage, you shall most certainly be recorded in the annals of
time, and your memory will be preserved for posterity!

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December 19, 2005

You do the math

Why Math is Taught in School---- (Written By A Very Wise Man)

I was riding to work yesterday when I observed a female driver cut right in front of a pickup truck, causing him to have to drive on to the shoulder to avoid hitting her. This evidently angered the driver enough that he hung his arm out his window and "flipped" the woman off. "Man, that guy is stupid," I
thought to myself. I ALWAYS smile nicely and wave in a sheepish manner whenever a female does anything to me in traffic, and here's why:

I drive 48 miles each way every day to work.

That's 96 miles each day.

Of these, 16 miles each way is bumper-to-bumper.

Most of the bumper-to-bumper is on an 8 lane highway.

There are 7 cars every 40 feet for 32 miles.

That works out to be 982 cars every mile, or 31,424 cars.

Even though the rest of the 32 miles is not bumper-to-bumper, I figure I pass at least another 4000 cars.

That brings the number to something like 36,000 cars that I pass every day.

Statistically, females drive half of these. That's 18,000 women drivers!

In any given group of females, 1 in 28 has PMS.

That's 642.

According to Cosmopolitan, 70% describe their love life as dissatisfying or unrewarding.

That's 449.

According to the National Institutes of Health, 22% of all females have seriously considered suicide or homicide.

That's 98.

And 34% describe men as their biggest problem.

That's 33.

According to the National Rifle Association, 5% of all females carry weapons, and this number is increasing.

That means that EVERY SINGLE DAY, I drive past at least one female that has
a lousy love life, thinks men are her biggest problem, has seriously considered suicide or homicide, has PMS, and is armed.

Flip one off? I think not......

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December 16, 2005

Santa is gay

I know that this will offend someone. Then again, you might be under the mistaken impression that I care. Merry Christmas.
===============================================

SANTA IS GAY

Santa is GAY! I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe Santa's gay. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I have a tough time believing a straight man could possibly pull it all off! For starters, think about the planning that goes into an event like Christmas. Even Martha Stewart is envious.

Straight men have day jobs, so they wouldn't have time to stand at the local shopping malls and ring a bell all day. But if you're a gay, out-of-work Actor/Dancer/Waiter it's the perfect gig until you get your big break. Also, if he were straight he would have picked a more masculine animal than the reindeer to get him around, like horses or oxen, but the reindeer just happens to appeal to Santa's inherent sense of grace and beauty. And those names: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen? Fill in the blanks.

Mrs. Claus has been married to him for eons and he's never fathered a child with her, she's over-weight and still content... Can you say "Fag-hag"?

Ever thought about the Rudolph story? He's gay too! "All of the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names. They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games." (as if he wanted to). Isn't Rudolph really a metaphor for the gay child in a straight society anyway?

Ever ask yourself why fruitcake is the traditional dessert at Christmas time? Well, now you know. And stop pretending you don't like it. Deep down inside, you've always liked fruitcake.

Other reasons why Santa can't possibly be a straight man:


  • Look at the size of the bag he packs for a one night trip!

  • Red velvet, fur collar, black engineer boots... think people!

  • Physically he's a wet dream for the Girth and Mirth club and the perfect poster model for GMSMA.

  • Gay men have long been using stockings to hide their candy.

  • Ho Ho / Homo... a little too similar if you ask me.

  • That long over-night flight around the world taps into the flight attendant gene.

And one more thing, did you ever know a straight man named Nicholas? Oh, straight society has tried to butch up his image by calling him St. Nick, but we know better. It's Nicholas, damn it! Ms. Claus if you're nasty.

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December 15, 2005

Lost puppy

My neighbor has lost her puppy and is desperate in finding him. She does a lot of traveling and always brings her dog with her.

Yesterday, she was sitting on the couch watching TV when she realized she hasn't seen her pup in a while and can't even begin to think when or where she last saw him. She has been putting up signs everywhere. (See the picture below). If you have seen this dog, please let me know and I will notify her.
Your help would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks in advance.

Lost puppy photo.

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Wanna see something really scary?

I give you the following photo, wherein a young girl expresses her delight at meeting Santa for the first time.

sacred of santa.jpg

More images found here.

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December 14, 2005

And still more stale holiday humor

Copy, paste, repeat:


I think Santa Claus is a woman....

I hate to be the one to defy 'sacred' myth, but I believe he's a she. Think about it. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull it all off!

For starters, the vast majority of men don't even think about selecting gifts until Christmas Eve. It's as if they are all frozen in some kind of Ebenezerian Time Warp until 3 p.m. on Dec. 24th, when they -- with amazing calm -- call other errant men and plan for a last-minute shopping spree. Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. (You might think this would send them into a fit of panic and guilt, but my husband tells me it's an enormous relief because it lessens the 11th hour decision-making burden.) On this count alone, I'm convinced Santa is a woman. Surely, if he were a man everyone in the universe would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating musical Chia Pet under the tree, still in the bag.

Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all, there would be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted and strapped on to the rear bumper of the sleigh amid wide-eyed, desperate claims that buck season had been extended. Blitzen's rack would already be on the way to the taxidermist.

Even if the male Santa DID have reindeer, he'd still have transportation problems because he would inevitably get lost up there in the snow and clouds and then refuse to stop and ask for directions. Add to this the fact that there would be unavoidable delays in the chimney, where the Bob Vila-like Santa would stop to inspect and repoint bricks in the flue. He would also need to check for carbon monoxide fumes in every gas fireplace, and get under every Christmas tree that is crooked to straighten it to a perfectly upright 90-degree angle.

Other reasons why Santa can't possibly be a man:

- Men can't pack a bag.
- Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.
- Men would feel their masculinity is threatened...having to be seen
with all those elves.
- Men don't answer their mail.
- Men would refuse to allow their physique to be described even in
jest as anything remotely resembling a "bowlful of jelly."
- Men aren't interested in stockings unless somebody's wearing them.
- Having to do the Ho Ho Ho thing would seriously inhibit their
ability to pick up women.
- Finally, being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment.

I can buy the fact that other mythical holiday characters are men...

Father Time shows up once a year unshaven and looking ominous. Definite Guy.

Cupid flies around carrying weapons. Definite Guy.

Uncle Sam is a politician who likes to point fingers. Definite Guy.

Any one of these individuals could pass the testosterone screening test. But not St. Nick. Not a chance. As long as we have each other, good will, peace on earth, faith and Nat King Cole's version of "The Christmas Song," it probably makes little difference what gender Santa is.

I just wish she'd quit dressing like a guy!!!
===============================================
Holiday Diet Tips
----------------

1. If no one sees you eat it, it has no calories.

2. If you drink a diet soda with a candy bar, they cancel each other out.

3. When eating with someone else, calories don't count if you both eat the same amount.

4. Foods used for medicinal purposes have no calories. This includes any chocolate used for energy, brandy, Sara Lee cheesecake (eaten whole), and Haagen-Dazs ice cream.

5. Some foods are much lower in calories simply because they are a part of the entertainment experience and not part of one's personal fuel. This includes Milk Duds, popcorn with butter, Junior Mints, Snickers, and Gummi Bears.

6. Cookie pieces contain no calories because the process of breakage causes calorie leakage.

7. If you eat the food off someone else's plate, it doesn't count.

8. If you eat standing up the calories all go to your feet and get walked off.

9. Food eaten at Christmas parties has no calories, courtesy of Santa.

10. STRESSED is just DESSERTS spelled backward.
============================================
Downsizing At Christmas
Seasons Greetings

The usual large flamboyant typeface associated with the seasons
greetings has been downsized this year commensurate with the trend
toward corporate downsizing. And the fact that SMTP does not support
typeface control. The recent announcement that Donner and Blitzen have
elected to take the early reindeer retirement package has triggered a
good deal of concern about whether they will be replaced, and about
other restructuring decisions at the North Pole.

Streamlining was appropriate in view of the reality that the North
Pole no longer dominates the season's gift distribution business. Home
shopping channels and mail order catalogues have diminished Santa's
market share and he could not sit idly by and permit further erosion
of the profit picture. The reindeer downsizing was made possible
through the purchase of a late model Japanese sled for the CEO's annual trip.
Improved productivity from Dasher and Dancer, who summered at the
Harvard Business School, is anticipated and should take up the slack
with no discernible loss of service. Reduction in reindeer will also
lessen airborne environmental emissions for which the North Pole has
been cited and received unfavorable press.

I am pleased to inform you and yours that Rudolph's role will not be
disturbed. Tradition still counts for something at the North Pole.
Management denies, in the strongest possible language, the earlier leak
that Rudolph's nose got that way not from the cold, but from substance
abuse. Calling Rudolph "a lush who was into the sauce and never did
pull his share of the load" was an unfortunate comment, made by one
of Santa's helpers and taken out of context at a time of year when he
is known to be under executive stress.

As a further restructuring, today's global challenges require the
North Pole to continue to look for better, more competitive steps.

Twelve Days of Christmas Restuctured
-------------------------------------

Effective immediately, the following economizing measures are being
implemented in our "Twelve Days of Christmas" subsidiary:

1) The partridge will be retained, but the pear tree, which never
produced the cash crop forecasted, will be replaced by a plastic
hanging plant, providing considerable savings in maintenance;

2) Two turtle doves represent a redundancy that is simply not cost
effective. In addition, their romance during working hours could not
be condoned. The positions are, therefore, eliminated...doves are
out;

3) The three French hens will remain intact. After all, everyone
loves the French things;

4) The four calling birds will be replaced by an automated voice
mail system, with a call waiting option. An analysis is underway to
determine who the birds have been calling, how often and how long
they talked;

5) The five golden rings have been put on hold by the Board of
Directors. Maintaining a portfolio based on one commodity could
have negative implications for institutional investors. Diversification
into other precious metals, as well as a mix of T-Bills and high technology
stocks, appear to be in order;

6) The six geese-a-laying constitutes a luxury which can no longer
be afforded. It has long been felt that the production rate of one
egg per goose per day was an example of the general decline in
productivity.
Three geese will be let go, and an upgrading in the selection procedure by
personnel will assure management that, from now on, every goose it
gets will be a good one;

7) The seven swans-a-swimming is obviously a number chosen in
better times. The function is primarily decorative. Shrimp ponds
are on order. The current swans will be donated to county jails;

8) As you know, the eight maids-a-milking concept has been under
heavy scrutiny by the EEOC. A male/female balance in the workforce
is being sought. The more militant maids consider this a dead-end
job with no upward mobility. Automation of the process may permit
the maids to try a-mending, a-mentoring or a-mulching;

9) Nine ladies dancing has always been an odd number. This
function will be phased out as these individuals grow older and
can no longer do the steps;

10) Ten Lords-a-leaping is overkill. The high cost of Lords, plus
the expense of international air travel, prompted the Compensation
Committee to suggest replacing this group with ten out-of-work
congressmen. While leaping ability may be somewhat sacrificed,
the savings are significant as we expect an oversupply of
unemployed congressmen this year;[Ed note: we can only hope]

11) Eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming is a simple
case of an out of date band getting too big. A substitution with a
string quartet, a cutback on new music, and no uniforms, will
produce savings which will drop right to the bottom line;

Overall we can expect a substantial reduction in assorted people,
fowl, animals and related expenses. Though incomplete, studies
indicate that stretching deliveries over twelve days is inefficient.
If we can drop ship by UPS in one day, service levels will be improved.

Regarding the lawsuit filed by the Bar Association seeking expansion
to include the legal profession ("thirteen lawyers-a-suing"), a
decision is pending.

Deeper cuts may be necessary in the future to remain competitive.
Should that happen, the Board will request management to scrutinize
our Snow White Division to see if seven dwarfs ..sleeping, sneezing,
grumping, etc. are in line with our overall projections.

Your Management

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What is Santa answered his letters truthfully?

All repeats, all the time!
=========================================

Deer Santa,
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur fer Xmas. Iv ben a gud
boy all yeer.
Yer Frend,
BiLLy

Dear Billy,
Nice spelling. You're on your way to a career in lawn care.
How about I send you a fucking book so you can learn to read and
write? I'm giving your older brother the space ranger. At least HE
can spell!
Santa

Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is
peace and joy in the world for everybody!
Love,
Sarah

Dear Sarah,
You're parents smoked pot when they had you, didn't they?
Santa


Dear Santa,
I don't know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I'd like for my
mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do.
Love,
Teddy

Dear Teddy,
Look, your dad's banging the babysitter like a screen door in a
hurricane. Do you think he's gonna give that up to come back to your
frigid mom, who rides his ass constantly? It's time to give up that
dream. Let me get you some nice Legos instead.
Santa


Dear Santa,
I want a new bike, a Playstation, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a
drum kit, a pony and a tuba.
Love,
Damien

Dear Damien,
Who names their kid "Damien" nowadays? I bet you're gay.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots
for your reindeer outside the back door.
Love,
Susan

Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the runs and carrots make the deer fart in my face
when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Leave me a bottle
of scotch.
Santa

Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy
making toys?
Your friend,
Thomas

Dear Thomas,
All the toys are made in China. I have a condo in Vegas, where I
spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind
by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses
while losing money at the craps table. Hey,you wanted to know.
Santa

Dear Santa,
Do you see us when we're sleeping, do you really know when we're
awake, like in the song?
Love,
Jessica

Dear Jessica,
Are you really that gullible? Good luck in whatever you do. I'm
skipping your house.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I really really want a puppy this year. Please please please PLEASE
PLEASE could I have one?
Timmy

Timmy,
That whiney begging shit may work with your folks, but that crap
doesn't work with me. You're getting a sweater again.
Santa

Dearest Santa,
We don't have a chimney in our house, how do you get into our house?
Love,
Joey

Joe,
First, stop calling yourself "Joey", that's why you're getting your
ass whipped at school. Second, you don't live in a house, you live in a
low-rent apartment complex. Third, I get inside your pad just like
all the burglars do, through your bedroom window.
Sweet Dreams,
Santa

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Some Christmas tree history

Here goes another in a series of repeats:

Not long ago and far away, Santa was getting ready for his annual trip. But there were problems everywhere. Four of his elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones so Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.

Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more. When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. More Stress.

Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys. So frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey. When he went to the cupboard, he found the elves had hid the liquor and there was nothing to drink. In his frustration, he dropped the coffee pot and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw it was made from. Just then the doorbell rang and Santa cussed on his way to the door. He opened the door and there was a little angel with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said: "Where would you like to put this tree Santa?"

And that my friend, is how the little angel came to be on top of the Christmas tree.


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Lion: I shall return

More or less, anyway. Disney plans to produce Prince Caspian.

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Time waster

Via The Corner comes this little Elf snowball fight.

FYI, I just printed out my certificate. What? Why are you looking at me like that?

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December 09, 2005

Seasonal cartoons

snow fake.jpg

flat tire.jpg

snow nose.jpg

snowman death.gif

And the sequel below:

snowman funeral.jpg

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A special Christmas message

Dear Darling Son and That Person You Married,

Merry Christmas to you, and please don't worry. I'm just fine considering I can't breathe or eat. The important thing is that you have a nice holiday, thousands of miles away from your ailing mother. I've sent along my last ten dollars in this card, which I hope you'll spend on my grandchildren. God knows their mother never buys them anything nice. They look so thin in their pictures, poor babies.

Thank you so much for the birthday flowers, dear boy. I put them in the freezer so they'll stay fresh for my grave. Which reminds me, we buried Grandma last week. I know she died years ago, but I got to yearning for a good funeral so Aunt Berta and I dug her up and had the services all over again. I would have invited you, but I know that woman you live with would have never let you come. I bet she's never even watched that videotape of my hemorrhoid surgery, has she?

Well son, it's time for me to crawl off to bed now. I lost my cane beating off muggers last week, but don't you worry about me. I'm also getting used to the cold since they turned my heat off and am grateful because the frost on my bed numbs the constant pain. Now don't you even think about sending any more money, because I know you need it for those expensive family vacations you take every year.

Give my love to my darling grandbabies and my regards to whatever-her-name-is, the one with the black roots in her hair who stole you screaming from my bosom. Merry Christmas.

Love, MOM

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Barbie's letter to Santa(repost)

Don't say that I didn't warn you about the Christmas-time repeats....
===============================

Barbie's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

Listen you fat little troll, I've been helping you out every year,
playing at being the perfect Christmas Present, wearing skimpy bathing
suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many tea
parties, and I hate to break it to ya Santa, but IT'S DEFINITELY PAY
BACK TIME! There had better be some changes around here this Christmas,
or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me, you won't
wanna be around to smell it).

So, here's my holiday wish list for 1998, Santa.

1. A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized sweatshirt.
I'm sick of looking like a hooker. How much smaller are these bathing
suits gonna get? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon
and velcro up your butt?

2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. Preferably white. What
bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to
my skin?!? It looks like cellulite!

3. A REAL man... maybe GI JOE. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that
wimped-out excuse for a boy toy Ken. And what's with that earring anyway?
If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me)
anatomically correct.

4. Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp
away once he is anatomically correct.

5. Breast reduction surgery. I don't care whose arm you have to twist,
just get it done.

6. A jog-bra. To wear until I get the surgery.

7. A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How
about a systems analyst? Or better yet, a public relations senior
account exec!

8. A new, more 90's persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with a
miniature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a
bag of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun,
fitted with a fake fur coat, bottle of spray on blood and handcuffs;
or "Stop Smoking Barbie," sporting a Nicotrol patch and equipped with
several packs of gum.

9. No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl.

10. Mattel stock options. It's been 37 years-I think I deserve it.
Okay Santa, that's it. Considering my valuable contribution to society, I
don't think these requests are out of line. If you disagree, then you can
find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas. It's that simple.

Yours Truly,

Barbie

----------------------------

Ken's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

I understand that one of my colleagues has petitioned you
for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and
career changes. In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging
remarks were made about me, my ability to please, and some of my
fashion choices. I would like to take this opportunity to inform you
of some issues concerning Ms. Barbie, and some of my own needs and
desires.

First of all, I along with several other colleagues feel
Barbie DOES NOT deserve preferential treatment - the bitch has
everything. Along with Joe, Jem, Raggedy Ann & Andy, I DO NOT have
a dream house, corvette, evening gowns, and in some cases the ability
to change our hair style. I personally have only 3 outfits which I am
forced to mix and match at great length.

My decision to accessorize my outfits with an earring was my
decision and reflects my lifestyle choice.

I too would like a change in my career. Have you ever considered
"Decorator Ken", "Beauty Salon Ken", or "Out Of Work Actor Ken"? In
addition, there are several other avenues which could be considered such
as:

"S&M Ken" , "Green Lantern Ken", "Circuit Ken", "Bear Ken", "Master Ken".

These would more accurately reflect my desires and perhaps open up new
markets. And as for Barbie needing bendable arms so she can "push me
away," I need bendable knees so I can kick the bitch to the curb.
Bendable knees would also be helpful for me in other situations - we've
talked about this issue before.

In closing, I would like to point out that any further concessions
to the blond bimbo from hell will result in action be taken by myself and
others. And Barbie can forget about having Joe - he's mine, at least that's
what he said last night.

Sincerely,

Ken

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Visually speaking part IV

Look at the picture below and try to guess its meaning before clicking on the extended entry.

eggplant.jpg

Eggplant.

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Something that everyone should know

The origin of Superman, courtesy of Jay Pinkerton.

It was so sick and twisted that I gave myself a hernia laughing. YMMV.

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December 08, 2005

Visually speaking III

Look at the picture, try to figure out what it represents, then look at the answer below the picture.

dandy lions.jpg

Dandy lions.

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December 06, 2005

Stale stuff

* THE PSYCHIC FROGS NETWORK *

A boy frog telephones the Psychic Hotline and his Personal Psychic Advisor tells him: "You are going to meet a beautiful young girl who will want to know everything about you."

The frog is thrilled, "This is great! Will I meet her at a party?"

"No," replies his Advisor, "in her biology class."
---------------------------------------------------

HONK IF YOU LOVE JESUS

The other day I went to the local religious bookstore where I saw a "Honk if you love Jesus" bumper sticker. I bought it and put it on the bumper of my car, and I am really glad that I did. What an uplifting experience followed!! I was stopped at the light at a busy intersection, just lost in thought about the Lord, when I did not notice that the light had just changed. The bumper sticker really worked!! I found lots of people who really loved Jesus. Why, the guy behind me started to honk like crazy. He must really love the Lord because soon he leaned out the window and yelled "Jesus christ" as loud a he could. It was like a football game with him yelling "Go, Jesus Christ, Go!!" Everyone else started honking, too. So I leaned out the window and smiled at all those loving people. There must have been a guy from Florida back there because I could here him yelling about "sunny beach" , and I saw him waving a funny way with his middle finger stuck up in the air. I asked my kids what it meant. They squirmed, looked at eachother , then told me it was the Hawaiian good luck sign. So I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sign back. Several cars back, a very nice man stepped out of his car and yelled something. I could not hear him very well, but it sounded like "mother trucker!" or "mother from there!". Maybe he was from Florida, too. He must really love the Lord. A couple of people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me. I bet they wanted to pray, but just then I noticed that he light had turned green and I stepped on the gas. And a good thing I did because I was the only driver that got across the intersection. I looked back at them standing there. I leaned out the window, gave them a big smile, and gave them the Hawaiian good luck sign as I drove away.

PRAISE THE LORD FOR SUCH WONDERFUL FOLKS!!!
----------------------------------------------------

The Customer is Always Right!
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

After experiencing difficulties with his computer, a poor, incognizant user called the system maker's technical support line for assistance...

Technician: Hello. How can I help you today?

Customer: There's smoke coming from the power supply on my computer...

Technician: Looks like you need a new power supply...

Customer: No, I don't! I just need to change the startup files...

Technician: Sir, what you described is a faulty power supply. You need to replace it...

Customer: No way! Someone told me that I just had to change the system startup files to fix the problem! All I need is for you to tell me the right command...

For the next ten minutes, in spite of the technician's efforts to explain the problem and its solution, the customer adamantly insisted that he was right. So, in frustration, the technician responded...

Technician: I'm sorry. We don't normally tell our customers this, but there's an undocumented DOS command that will fix the problem...

Customer: I knew it!

Technician: Just add the line "LOAD NOSMOKE.COM" at the end of the CONFIG.SYS file and everything should work fine. Let me know how it goes...

About ten minutes later, the technician received a call back from the customer...

Customer: It didn't work. The power supply is still smoking...

Technician: Well, what version of DOS are you using?

Customer: MS-DOS 6.22...

Technician: Well, that's your problem. That version of DOS doesn't include NOSMOKE. You'll need to contact Microsoft and ask them for a patch. Let me know how it all works out...

When nearly an hour had passed, the phone rang again...

Customer: I need a new power supply...

Technician: How did you come to that conclusion?

Customer: Well, I called Microsoft and told the technician what you said, and he started asking me questions about the make of the power supply...

Technician: What did he tell you?

Customer: He said my power supply isn't compatible with NOSMOKE...
------------------------------------------------------------------

Below is an urban legend. Here is the link to Snopes debunking it. It's pretty funny nonetheless.

Warranty Card Registration

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Thank you for purchasing a McDonnell Douglas military aircraft. In order to protect your new investment, please take a few moments to fill out the warranty registration card below. Answering the survey questions is not required, but the information will help us to develop new products that best meet your needs and desires.

1. _Mr. _Mrs. _Ms. _Miss _Lt. _Gen. _Comrade _Classified

First Name Initial

Last Name

Password

Code Name

Latitude Longitude Altitude

2. Which model aircraft did you purchase?

_F-14 Tomcat _F-15 Eagle _F-16 Falcon _F-117A Stealth

_Classified

3. Date of purchase: Month: Day: Year:

4. Serial Number:

5. Please check where this product was purchased:

[ ] Received as gift/aid package

[ ] Catalog showroom

[ ] Sleazy arms broker

[ ] Mail order

[ ] Discount store

[ ] Government surplus

[ ] Classified

6. Please check how you became aware of the McDonnell Douglas product you have just purchased:

[ ] Heard loud noise, looked up

[ ] Store display

[ ] Espionage

[ ] Recommended by friend/relative/ally

[ ] Political lobbying by manufacturer

[ ] Was attacked by one

7. Please check the three (3) factors that most influenced your decision to purchase this McDonnell Douglas product:

[ ] Style/appearance

[ ] Kickback/bribe

[ ] Recommended by salesperson

[ ] Speed/maneuverability

[ ] Comfort/convenience

[ ] McDonnell Douglas reputation

[ ] Advanced Weapons Systems

[ ] Price/value

[ ] Backroom politics

[ ] Negative experience opposing one in combat

8. Please check the location(s) where this product will be used:

[ ] North America

[ ] Central/South America

[ ] Aircraft carrier

[ ] Europe

[ ] Middle East

[ ] Africa

[ ] Asia/Far East

[ ] Misc. Third World countries

[ ] Classified

9. Please check the products that you currently own or intend to purchase in the near future:

Product Own Intend to purchase

[ ] Color TV

[ ] VCR

[ ] ICBM

[ ] Killer Satellite

[ ] CD Player

[ ] Air-to-Air Missiles

[ ] Space Shuttle

[ ] Home Computer

[ ] Nuclear Weapon

10. How would you describe yourself or your organization? Check all that apply:

[ ] Communist/Socialist

[ ] Terrorist

[ ] Crazed

[ ] Neutral

[ ] Democratic

[ ] Dictatorship

[ ] Corrupt

[ ] Primitive/Tribal

11. How did you pay for your McDonnell Douglas product?

[ ] Cash

[ ] Suitcases of cocaine

[ ] Oil revenues

[ ] Deficit spending

[ ] Personal check

[ ] Credit card

[ ] Ransom money

[ ] Traveler's check

12. Occupation You Your Spouse

[ ] Homemaker

[ ] Sales/marketing

[ ] Revolutionary

[ ] Clerical

[ ] Mercenary

[ ] Tyrant

[ ] Middle management

[ ] Eccentric billionaire

[ ] Defense Minister/general

[ ] Retired

[ ] Student

13. To help us understand our customers' lifestyles, please indicate the interests and activities in which you and your spouse enjoy participating on a regular basis:

Activity/Interest You Your Spouse

[ ] Golf

[ ] Boating/sailing

[ ] Sabotage

[ ] Running/jogging

[ ] Propaganda/disinformation

[ ] De-stabilization/overthrow

[ ] Default on loans

[ ] Gardening

[ ] Crafts

[ ] Black market/smuggling

[ ] Collectibles/collections

[ ] Watching sports on TV

[ ] Wines

[ ] Interrogation/torture

[ ] Household pets

[ ] Crushing rebellions

[ ] Espionage/reconnaissance

[ ] Fashion clothing

[ ] Border disputes

[ ] Mutually Assured Destruction

Thanks for taking the time to fill out this questionnaire. Your answers will be used in market studies that will help McDonnell Douglas serve you better in the future--as well as allowing you to receive mailings and special offers from other companies, governments, extremist groups, and mysterious consortia.

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Visually speaking II

Look at the picture, try to figure out what it represents, then look at the answer below the picture.

light beer.jpg

Light beer.

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December 05, 2005

Visually speaking

Look at a picture, try to figure out what it represents, then look at the answer below the picture.

pal pilot.jpg

Palm pilot

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Early earthquake warning system

California has implemented a system that alerts citizens to any rumblings in the ground. It's a little unsettling, and therefore might not be safe for work, but here's a picture of the system in action.

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What every man wants for Christmas

What follows is the ultimate stocking stuffer:

man remote.jpg

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December 02, 2005

Unveiled

In keeping with the spirit of the comments in this post by Ace, I present you with the prototype of the new Dick Cheney condom line.

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November 30, 2005

Horoscope for the day

Found at this site. Excerpt:


Cancer (June 21 - July 22)

Today you will notice yet another large freshly-dug mound of dirt in your neighbor's back yard. It's probably nothing -- he probably just digs at night if he can't get to sleep. I know I do.

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This week's sign that the Apocalypse is upon us

Christmas joy.gif

santa outsourcing.jpg

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November 28, 2005

Holiday greetings

Due to the ever-increasing cost of postage, and my decreasing ability to write legibly, here is my card to cover every holiday of the rest of our lives.

santaturkey.jpg

Linked to the Beltway Traffic Jam.

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November 22, 2005

How to cook a turkey

Reposted from last year.

=====================
This has been making its way around the Internet since 1500 B.C., even though the first computer still hadn't been manufactured yet. However, if there's one thing that you can count on me for, it's recycling the stalest holiday humor you've ever seen between now and the New Year.
---------------------------------------------------
HOW TO COOK A TURKEY

Step 1: Go buy a turkey

Step 2: Take a drink of whiskey, scotch, or JD

Step 3: Put turkey in the oven

Step 4: Take another 2 drinks of whiskey

Step 5: Set the degree at 375 ovens

Step 6: Take 3 more whiskeys of drink

Step 7: Turn oven the on

Step 8: Take 4 whisks of drinky

Step 9: Turk the bastey

Step 10: Whiskey another bottle of get

Step 11: Stick a turkey in the thermometer

Step 12: Glass yourself a pour of whiskey

Step 13: Bake the whiskey for 4 hours

Step 14: Take the oven out of the turkey

Step 15: Take the oven out of the turkey

Step 16: Floor the turkey up off the pick

Step 17: Turk the carvey

Step 18: Get yourself another scottle of botch

Step 19: Tet the sable and pour yourself a glass of turkey(Ed. note: this didn't used to be possible)
Update: More on this here.

Step 20: Bless the saying, pass and eat out

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Spicing up Thanksgiving dinner

Here is a new way to prepare your Thanksgiving or Christmas Turkey.

1. Cut out aluminum foil in desired shapes.
2. Arrange the turkey in the roasting pan, position the foil carefully (see
attached)
3. Roast according to your own recipes and serve.
4. Watch your guests' faces.

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Problem solved

A man is having an affair with his secratary. After hours of heated love, he realizes he should have been home long ago. As he quickly gets dressed, he asks his secratary to take his shoes outside and rub them in the dirt.

When he gets home, his wife immediately tears into him, "It's almost 9:00, where the hell have you been?"

The man looks her straight in the eye and says "Honey, I have something to admit. I've been having an affair with my secratary. I spent the last two hours making love to her."

The wife looks him up and down and says " You lying son of a bitch, I can tell by looking at the dirt on your shoes that you've been out playing golf!"

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November 18, 2005

Job application

A few months ago, the CIA had an opening for an assassin. This highly classified position is hard to fill, requiring enormous testing and background checks involved before an applicant can be considered for the position. After sending some applicants through the background checks, training and testing, the Agency narrowed the possible choices down to 3 men, for the one available position.

The day came for the final test to see which man would get the extremely secretive job. The Agent administering the test took one of the applicants to a large metal door and handed him a gun. "We must know that you will follow your instructions no matter what the circumstances", they explained. "Inside this room, you will find your wife sitting in a chair. Take this gun and kill her."

The man got a shocked look on his face and said "You can't be serious! I could
never shoot my own wife!". "Well", says the CIA man, "you're definitely not the right man for this job then."

The second applicant was brought to the same door and handed the gun. "We must know that you will follow instructions no matter what the circumstances", the Agent explained, "Inside you will find your wife sitting in a chair. Take this gun and kill her." The second man looked a bit shocked, but nevertheless took the gun and went in the room. All was quiet for about 5 minutes, then the door opened. The man came out of the room with tears in his eyes. "I tried to shoot her, I just couldn't pull the trigger and shoot my wife. I guess I'm not the right man for the job." "No" the CIA man replied, "You don't have what it takes. Take
your wife and go the hell home."

The Agents brought the third applicant to the same door to the same room and hand him the same gun. "We must be sure that you will follow instructions no matter what the circumstances, this is your final test. Inside you will find your wife sitting in a chair. Take this gun and kill her." The third man took the gun and opened the door. Before the door even closed all the way, the CIA man heard the gun start firing. One shot after another for 13 shots. Then all hell broke loose in the room. They heard screaming, crashing, banging on the walls. This went on for several minutes, then all went quiet. The door opened slowly, and there stood the third applicant. He wiped the sweat from his brow and said "You guys didn't tell me the gun was loaded with blanks! I had to beat the bitch to death with the chair!"

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Perspective

A journalist had done a story on gender roles in Iraq several years before the second Gulf War, and she noted then that women customarily walked about 10 feet behind their husbands.

She returned to Iraq recently and observed that the men now walked several yards behind their wives.

She approached one of the women for an explanation.

"This is marvelous," said the journalist. "What enabled women here to achieve this reversal of roles?"

Replied the Iraqi woman: "Terrorist land mines."

I can see Helen Thomas right now, scratching her head while saying, "Huh?"

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November 17, 2005

Do you know these people?

A list of seven well-known workplace troublemakers, with tips on how to deal with them. Excerpt:


1. The Misery Lady

Identifying Marks

Sweatshirts decorated with symbols of the nearest holiday.

Often Heard Saying

"Good morning! Oh, where's your hat? Do you like mine? Ha ha ha! It's Floppy Hat day! You didn't hear? Ha ha! Well, it was in my e-mail. Oh, no, that's okay! It's all for fun! You don't have to wear a floppy hat! Jean, do we have an extra floppy hat for him?"

What She Is

She knows your birthday. She always wears a smile. She can make your life a living hell. Like Annie Wilkes of Misery fame, she tells you she's your "Number One Fan" and she means it... as long as you do exactly what she wants.

She says it would be fun if everyone in the office dressed like Cupid for Valentine's Day. She suggests we all get together and put on a skit about the things that make us happy. The boss goes along with her in the name of boosting morale.

The reality, as anyone who has cringed their way through Misery Lady's events can tell you, is that she's "boosting morale" in the same way that dressing up her cat boosts the cat's morale

What You Should Do

Let her see things from your perspective.

At one company where I worked as a consultant, I had the men in the office organize Gladiator Days. On Gladiator Day, everyone was required to go shirtless and speak only in profanity. Everyone was forced to carry a club and all requests were ignored unless followed up with a threat (i.e., "Make these fucking copies for me or else I'll see that your daughter starts being an orphan and stops being a virgin on the very same night.")

By lunch, the message was sent loud and clear: what is fun for one and what is fun for another are two very different things.

Sadly, I recognized all seven. What's worse is that some of them are above me in the chain of command. Oh well. It's not like I actually work during the day.

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November 16, 2005

Quote of the day

We speak for the dead.

Details at Ace's place.

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November 15, 2005

How the Matchstick people became extinct

A sad, sad story, but it had to be told.

Click on the extended entry to see what happened.

    0            
 __ |__        
    |            
    /\  

matchstick.gif

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November 09, 2005

Take me to your leader

Two aliens land in Metro Detroit, and they happen to land next to a gas station. So, the aliens waddle out of their ship and look around.

The first thing they see that resembles a human being is the gas pump. The two aliens approach and the first one says "Earthling, take me to your leader!" Of course he gets no response...

The first alien looks at his buddy then addresses the pump again. "Earthling, I said take me to your leader!" Of course, still no response...

The alien then turns to his buddy and says "If this Earthling doesn't show me some respect and at least acknowledge me, I'm going to blast him!"

At that the second alien replies, "OK. I'm just going to stand down on the next block."

The first Alien looks a little puzzled, but waits for the other to waddle to the next block. He then addresses the pump a third time.

"Earthling take me to your leader!" Still nothing. So the alien then pulls out his ray gun and vaporizes the pump...

The gas station goes up in a huge explosion, blowing the alien all the way down the block to his buddy. He gets up, dusts himself off, and turns to the second Alien. "If you knew that was going to happen why didn't you warn me!?"

The second replies "Well, I didn't know exactly *what* was going to happen. But there's no way I'm gonna' mess with a guy who's dick hangs to the ground, wraps around his body twice, and is still long enough to stick in his left ear."

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Great female comebacks

Man: "Haven't we met before?"
Woman: "Yes, I'm the receptionist at the VD Clinic."

Man: "Haven't I seen you someplace before?
Woman: "Yeah, that's why I don't go there anymore."

Man: "Is this seat empty?"
Woman: "Yes, and this one will be too if you sit down."

Man: "So, wanna go back to my place ?"
Woman: "Well, I don't know. Will two people fit under a rock?"

Man: "Your place or mine?"
Woman: "Both. You go to yours and I'll go to mine."

Man: "I'd like to call you. What's your number?"
Woman: "It's in the phone book."

Man: "But I don't know your name."
Woman: "That's in the phone book too."

Man: "So what do you do for a living?"
Woman: "I'm a female impersonator."

Man: "What sign were you born under?"
Woman: "No Parking."

Man: "Hey, baby, what's your sign?"
Woman: "Do not Enter"

Man: "How do you like your eggs in the morning?"
Woman: "Unfertilized !"

Man: "Hey, come on, we're both here at this bar for the same reason"
Woman: "Yeah! Let's pick up some chicks!"

Man: "I'm here to fulfill your every sexual fantasy."
Woman: "You mean you've got both a donkey and a Great Dane?"

Man: "I know how to please a woman."
Woman: "Then please leave me alone."

Man: "I want to give myself to you."
Woman: "Sorry, I don't accept cheap gifts."

Man: "I can tell that you want me."
Woman: "Ohhhh. You're so right. I want you to leave."

Man: "If I could see you naked, I'd die happy:
Woman: "Yeah, but if I saw you naked, I'd probably die laughing."

Man: "Hey cutie, how 'bout you and I hitting the hot spots?"
Woman: "Sorry, I don't date outside my species.."

Man: "Your body is like a temple."
Woman: "Sorry, there are no services today."

Man: "I'd go through anything for you."
Woman: "Good! Let's start with your bank account."

Man: "I would go to the end of the world for you.
Woman: "Yes, but would you stay there?

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November 07, 2005

The competition

There was a competition to cross the English channel doing only the breaststroke, and the three women who entered the race were a brunette, a redhead and a blonde.

After approximately 14 hours, the brunette staggered up on the shore and was declared the fastest breaststroker. About 40 minutes later, the redhead crawled up on the shore and was declared the second place finisher.

Nearly 4 hours after that, the blonde finally came ashore and promptly collapsed in front of the worried onlookers.

When the reporters asked why it took her so long to complete the race, she replied, "I don't want to sound like I'm a sore loser, but I think those two other girls were using their arms..."

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November 03, 2005

Rules for women

Everyone has seen the rules for guys from women. Here's the response:


Women, learn to work the toilet seat. You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down.

Birthdays, Valentines, and Anniversaries are not considered by us to be opportunities to see if we can find the perfect present . . . . again!

Sometimes we are not thinking about you. Live with it.

Sunday = sports. It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.

Don't cut your hair. Ever. Long hair is always more attractive than short hair. One of the big reasons guys fear getting married is that married women always cut their hair, and by then you're stuck with her.

Ask for what you want. Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!

We don't remember dates. . . .Period!!

Most guys own three pairs of shoes - tops. What makes you think we'd be any good at choosing which pair, out of thirty, would look good with your dress?

Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.

Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.

A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.

Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 days.

If you won't dress like the Victoria's Secret girls, don't expect us to act like soap opera guys.

If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us.

If something we said can be interpreted two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.

Let us ogle. We are going to look anyway; it's genetic.

You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.

Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials.

Christopher Columbus did not need directions, and neither do we.

The relationship is never going to be like it was the first two months we were going out. Get over it. And quit whining to your girlfriends.

ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.

If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that.

We are not mind readers and we never will be. Our lack of mind-reading ability is not proof of how little we care about you.

If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing," we will act like nothing's wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.

If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, expect an answer you don't want to hear.

When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear Is fine...Really.

Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as baseball, navel lint, the shotgun formation, golf, camping, or monster trucks.

Foreign films are best left to foreigners. (Unless it's Bruce Lee or some war flick where it doesn't really matter what they're saying anyway.)

You have enough clothes.

You have too many shoes.

BEER is as exciting for us as handbags are for you.

I am in shape. Round IS a shape!

Thank you for reading this; Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight, but did you know that men don't really mind that? It's like camping.


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November 01, 2005

Blame Jonah

I don't know where the dude finds stuff like this: cat bowling. Sure offend cat lovers everywhere.

Even K-Lo gets into the act by posting a link to Yoda break dancing.

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October 28, 2005

Wanna see something really scary?

Ace posts some images which I'm sure everyone has seen. However, I've posted a couple new ones below the fold. Not necessarily safe for work.

Penis Man

Vagina man

Priestly fun

Sweet thing

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A costume for everyone

The Halloween outfit pictured below is one that might best be suited to a nudist colony. Or Jennifer Lopez, if you catch my drift.

2005_halloween_booty.jpg

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October 27, 2005

Redneck piggy bank

No double-wide is complete without one.

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October 26, 2005

The search has ended

If this is where the leprechaun is hiding his gold, I think that I'll pass.

pot.jpg

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New Law

With the high rate of attacks on women in secluded parking lots, especially during evening hours, the Minneapolis City Council has established a "Women Only" parking lot at the Mall of America. Even the parking lot attendants are exclusively female so that a comfortable and safe environment is created for patrons.

Below is the first picture available of this world-first women-only parking lot in Minnesota.

women parking.jpg

And they just keep coming.

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Dr. Seuss for grownups

slammed.jpg

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October 25, 2005

Dying to get in

Three men were standing in line to get into heaven one day. Apparently it had been a pretty busy day, though, so Peter had to tell the first one, "Heaven's getting pretty close to full today, and I've been asked to admit only people who have had particularly horrible deaths. So what's your story?"

So the first man replies: "Well, for a while I've suspected my wife has been cheating on me, so today I came home early to try to catch her red-handed. As I came into my 25th floor apartment, I could tell something was wrong, but all my searching around didn't reveal where this other guy could have been hiding. Finally, I went out to the balcony, and sure enough, there was this man hanging off the railing, 25 floors above ground!

"By now I was really mad, so I started beating on him and kicking him, but wouldn't you know it, he wouldn't fall off. So finally I went back into my apartment and got a hammer and starting hammering on his fingers. Of course, he couldn't stand that for long, so he let go and fell - but even after 25 stories, he fell into the bushes, stunned but okay. I couldn't stand it anymore, so I ran into the kitchen, grabbed the fridge and threw it over the edge where it landed on him, killing him instantly. But all the stress and anger got to me, and I had a heart attack and died there on the balcony."

"That sounds like a pretty bad day to me," said Peter, and let the man in. The second man comes up and Peter explains to him about heaven being full, and again asks for his story.

"It's been a very strange day. You see, I live on the 26th floor of my apartment building, and every morning I do my exercises out on my balcony. Well, this morning I must have slipped or something, because I fell over the edge. But I got lucky, and caught the railing of thebalcony on the floor below me. I knew I couldn't hang on for very long, when suddenly this man burst out onto the balcony. I thought for sure I was saved, when he started beating on me and kicking me. I held on the best I could until he ran into the apartment and grabbed a hammer and started pounding on my hands. Finally I just let go, but again I got lucky and fell into the bushes below, stunned but all right. Just when I was thinking I was going to be okay, this refrigerator comes falling out of the sky and crushes me instantly, and now I'm here." Once again, Peter had to concede that that sounded like a pretty horrible death.

The third man came to the front of the line, and again the whole process was repeated. Peter explained that heaven was full and asked for his story.

"Picture this," says the third man, "I'm hiding naked inside a refrigerator..."

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October 12, 2005

For the guys

Here's some information about continuing education that you might be interested in.

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September 22, 2005

Battle of the sexes

MARRIAGE SEMINAR

While attending a Marriage Seminar dealing with communication, Tom and his wife Grace listened to the instructor, "It is essential that husbands and wives know the things that are important to each other."

He addressed the man, "Can you describe your wife's favorite flower?"

Tom leaned over, touched his wife's arm gently and whispered, "It's Pillsbury, isn't it?

The rest of the story gets rather ugly, so I'll stop right here.

CIGARETTES AND TAMPONS

A man walks into a pharmacy and wanders up and down the aisles. The sales girl notices him and asks him if she can help him. He answers that he is looking for a box of tampons for his wife. She directs him down the correct aisle. A few minutes later, he deposits a huge bag of cotton balls and a ball of string on the counter.

She says, confused, "Sir, I thought you were looking for some tampons for your wife? He answers, " You see, it's like this, yesterday, I sent my wife to the store to get me a carton of cigarettes, and she came back with a tin of tobacco and some rolling papers 'cause it's sooo-ooo--oo-ooo much cheaper.

So, I figure if I have to roll my own .......... so does she.

WIFE VS HUSBAND

A couple drove down a country road for several miles, not saying a word. An earlier discussion had led to an argument and neither of them wanted to concede their position. As they passed a barnyard of mules, goats, and pigs, the wife asked sarcastically, "Relatives of yours?"

"Yep," the husband replied, "in-laws."

WORDS

A husband read an article to his wife about how many words women use a day... 30,000 to a man's 15,000.

The wife replied, "The reason has to be because we have to repeat everything to men...

The husband then turned to his wife and asked, "What?"

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World's shortest fairytale

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl "Will you marry me?" The girl said, "NO!" And the guy lived happily ever after and went fishing, hunting and played golf a lot and drank beer and farted whenever he wanted.

THE END

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September 14, 2005

Head of household

When everybody on earth was dead and waiting to enter Paradise, God appeared and said, "I want the men to make two lines. One line for the men who were true heads of their household and the other line for the men who were dominated by their women. I want all the women to report to St Peter."

Soon, the women were gone and there were two lines of men. The line of the men who were dominated by their wives was 100 miles long, and in the line of men who truly were heads of their household, there was only one man.

God said, "You men should be ashamed of yourselves. I created you to be the head of your household. You have been disobedient and not fulfilled your purpose. I told you to be the spiritual leader in your family. Of all of you only one obeyed. Learn from him. Tell them, my son, how did you manage to be the only one in this line?"

The man replied, "I don't know, my wife told me to stand here."

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August 29, 2005

Quotes you don't want to repeat

Brain Cramps 

Question: If you could live forever, would you and why?
Answer: "I would not live forever, because we should not live forever, because if we were supposed to live forever, then we would live forever, but we cannot live forever, which is why I would not live forever," --Miss Alabama in the 1994 Miss USA contest.


"Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that, but not with all those flies and death and stuff." --Mariah Carey

"Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life," --Brooke Shields, during an interview to become Spokesperson for federal anti-smoking campaign.


"I've never had major knee surgery on any other part of my body,"
--Winston Bennett, University of Kentucky basketball forward.

"Outside of the killings,
Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in the country," --Mayor Marion Barry, Washington, DC. 

"I'm not going to have some reporters pawing through our papers. We are the president." --Hillary Clinton commenting on the release of subpoenaed documents.
 

"That lowdown scoundrel deserves to be kicked to death by a jackass, and I'm just the one to do it," --A congressional candidate in
Texas. 

"Half this game is ninety percent mental." --Philadelphia Phillies manager, Danny Ozark
 

"It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it." --Al Gore, Vice President


"I love
California. I practically grew up in Phoenix." --Dan Quayle 

"We've got to pause and ask ourselves: How much clean air do we need?"--Lee Iacocca


"I was provided with additional input that was radically different from the truth. I assisted in furthering that version." --Colonel Oliver North, from his Iran-Contra testimony.
 

"The word 'genius" isn't applicable in football. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein." --Joe Theisman, NFL football quarterback &sports analyst.
 

"We don't necessarily discriminate. We simply exclude certain t ypes of people."--Colonel Gerald Wellman, ROTC Instructor.


"If we don't succeed, we run the risk of failure." --Bill Clinton, President
 

"We are ready for an unforeseen event that may or may not occur." --Al Gore, VP


"Traditionally, most of
Australia's imports come from overseas." --Keppel Enderbery 

"Your food stamps will be stopped effective March 1992 because we received notice that you passed away. May God bless you. You may reapply if there is a change in your circumstances." --Department of Social Services,
Greenville, South Carolina

"If somebody has a bad heart, they can plug this jack in at night as they go to bed and it will monitor their heart throughout the night. And the next morning, when they wake up dead, there'll be a record." --Mark S. Fowler, FCC Chairman
 
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Baseball fan

The World's most avid baseball fan, a blond, had arrived early at the stadium for the first game of the World Series only to realize that she had left her ticket at home. Not wanting to miss any of the first inning, she went to the ticket booth and got in a long line for another seat. After an hour's wait she was just a few feet from the booth when a voice called out, "Hey, Linda!"

She looked up, stepped out ofline and tried to find the owner of the voice -- with no success. Then she realized she had lost her place in the line, and had to go back to the end of the line and wait all over again.

After she had purchased her ticket, she was thirsty, so she went to buy a drink. The line at the concession stand was also very long. But since the game hadn't started she decided to wait. Just as she got to the window, a voice called out "Hey, Linda!"

Again she tried to find the voice and got out of line as she wandered looking for the owner of the voice. But no luck. She was very upset as she got back in line for her drink.

Finally she had her drink and took her seat eager for the game to begin. As she waited for the first pitch, she heard the voice calling, "Hey, Linda!" once more.

Furious, she stood up and yelled a the top of her lungs:

"My name isn't Linda!"|

Cross-posted at Madfish Willies.

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August 24, 2005

Thank you for your patience

And as your reward, here's another rotten joke:


A couple had been debating the purchase of a new auto for weeks. He wanted a new truck. She wanted a fast little sports-like car so she could zip through traffic around town.

He would probably have settled on any beat up old truck, but everything she seemed to like was way out of their price range.

"Look," she said, "I want something that goes from 0 to 200 in 4 seconds or less. And my birthday is coming up. You could surprise me."

For her birthday, he bought her a brand new bathroom scale.

**** Services will be at Downing Funeral Home on Monday the 12th. Due to the condition of the body, this will be a closed casket service. Please send your donations to the 'Think Before You Say Things To Your Wife'
foundation, Dallas, Texas.

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August 22, 2005

Redneck hunting trip

redneck hunting trip.jpg


Now THAT'S a gun.

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August 19, 2005

Redneck jetski

Neal Boortz has a good thing going with his Redneck Scrapbook, but I think that he's missed a few good photos. Case in point:

redneck jetski.jpg

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August 18, 2005

Squidly humor

Received via email...
===============================================

Three men are sitting stiffly side by side on a long commercial flight. After they're airborne and the plane has leveled off, the man in the window seat abruptly says, distinctly and confidently, in a loud voice, "Admiral, United States Navy, retired. Married, two sons, both surgeons."

After a few minutes the man in the aisle seat states through a tight lipped smile, "Admiral, United States Coast Guard, retired. Married, two sons, both judges."

After some thought, the fellow in the center seat decides to introduce himself. With a twinkle in his eye he proclaims, "Master Chief, United States Navy, retired. Never married, two sons . . both Admirals. "

---------------------------------------------------------------------

During training exercises, the lieutenant who was driving down a muddy back road encountered another car stuck in the mud with a red-faced colonel at the wheel. "Your jeep stuck, sir?" asked the lieutenant as he pulled alongside.

"Nope," replied the colonel, coming over and handing him the keys, "Yours is."

------------------------------------------------------------------

Having just moved into his new office, a pompous, new colonel was sitting at his desk when an airman knocked on the door. Conscious of his new position, the colonel quickly picked up the phone, told the airman to enter, then said into the phone, "Yes, General, I'll be seeing him this afternoon and I'll pass along your message. In the meantime, thank you for your good wishes, sir."

Feeling as though he had sufficiently impressed the young enlisted man, he asked, "What do you want?"

"Nothing important, sir," the airman replied, "I'm just here to hook up your telephone."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Officer: "Soldier, do you have change for a dollar?"

Soldier: "Sure, buddy."

Officer: "That's no way to address an officer! Now let's try it again, Soldier. Do you have change for a dollar?"

Soldier: "No, SIR!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Q: How do you know if there is a fighter pilot at your party?
A: He'll tell you.

Q: What's the difference between God and fighter pilots?
A: God doesn't think he's a fighter pilot.

Q: What's the difference between a fighter pilot and a jet engine?
A: A jet engine stops whining when the plane shuts down.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well," snarled the tough old Navy Chief to the bewildered Seaman, "I suppose after you get discharged from the Navy, you'll just be waiting for me to die so you can come and pee on my grave."

No sir, after I get out of the navy I am never going to stand in line again!"

------------------------------------------------------------------

The elderly American gentleman arrived in Paris by plane. At French Customs, he fumbled for his passport. "You 've been to France before, monsieur?" the customs officer asked sarcastically.

The old gent admitted that he had been to France previously.

"Zen, you should know enough to 'ave your passport ready for inspection."

The American said, "The last time I was here, I didn't have to show it."

"Impossible. You Americans alwayz 'ave to show your passports on arrival in France!"

The American senior gave the Frenchman a long hard look. Then he quietly explained, "Well, when I came ashore at Omaha Beach on D-Day in '44, I couldn't find any Frenchmen to show it to."

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What happens when you're at work

Icon Wars!

Maybe I should move those Diablo icons off of my desktop.

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August 15, 2005

Redneck sex ed class

redneck sex ed class.jpg

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