joke Thread
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- BloodFromStone
- Expert
- Posts: 287
- Joined: Sat Oct 30, 2004 4:56 am
- DaveTheMiller
- Apprentice
- Posts: 41
- Joined: Sat Jan 15, 2005 2:50 am
- Location: Great Britain
- DaveTheMiller
- Apprentice
- Posts: 41
- Joined: Sat Jan 15, 2005 2:50 am
- Location: Great Britain
- DaveTheMiller
- Apprentice
- Posts: 41
- Joined: Sat Jan 15, 2005 2:50 am
- Location: Great Britain
A penguin is driving through the desert when he starts experiencing engine trouble. He manages to make it to the nearest town and limps into the town's only service station. Luckily a mechanic is on duty.
The mechanic shakes his head and tells the penguin that he will need to tear the engine down to determine the cause of the problem.
"Come back in a couple hours" he tells the penguin.
With midday approaching and the temperature rising, the penguin goes off in search of some refreshment. He finds a milk bar and orders an ice cream cone. He sits in the milk bar and lingers over the ice cream cone as he ponders the fate of his car.
After a while he decides to return to the service station. When he arrives, he sees his engine in pieces on the garage floor and the mechanic wiping his hands. The mechanic looks at the penguin and declares:
"Looks like you've blown a seal."
"Oh no," says the penguin, quickly wiping his mouth. "It's just ice cream."
The mechanic shakes his head and tells the penguin that he will need to tear the engine down to determine the cause of the problem.
"Come back in a couple hours" he tells the penguin.
With midday approaching and the temperature rising, the penguin goes off in search of some refreshment. He finds a milk bar and orders an ice cream cone. He sits in the milk bar and lingers over the ice cream cone as he ponders the fate of his car.
After a while he decides to return to the service station. When he arrives, he sees his engine in pieces on the garage floor and the mechanic wiping his hands. The mechanic looks at the penguin and declares:
"Looks like you've blown a seal."
"Oh no," says the penguin, quickly wiping his mouth. "It's just ice cream."
- DaveTheMiller
- Apprentice
- Posts: 41
- Joined: Sat Jan 15, 2005 2:50 am
- Location: Great Britain
- Gambit37
- Should eat more pies
- Posts: 13720
- Joined: Wed May 31, 2000 1:57 pm
- Location: Location, Location
- Contact:
Fantastic. Dirty, but fantastic. Here's one:
The 2:30 at Doncaster starts with a bang, and the favourite to win streaks ahead. As the jockey progresses around the course, he leaves the pack behind. A guaranteed win in his sights, suddenly a roast turkey comes from nowhere and smacks him in the face. Faltering, he slows, and the remaining horses start to gain. He spurs his horse on, now barely ahead of the pack, when a Christmas pudding comes flying out of the sky and crashes on the horses head. Stunned, the horse loses control and falls way behind. He tries to keep going, but all manner of items come flying at him: a tin of paté, a boiled ham, pigs trotters and a gourmet jar of caviar. He can't battle against all that, and limps home to the finish line, last.
His manager comes tearing down to the line, screaming at him: "What happened!!!??? You should have won!!!"
The jockey looks at him, dejected and downcast. "Sorry boss. I was severely hampered."
The 2:30 at Doncaster starts with a bang, and the favourite to win streaks ahead. As the jockey progresses around the course, he leaves the pack behind. A guaranteed win in his sights, suddenly a roast turkey comes from nowhere and smacks him in the face. Faltering, he slows, and the remaining horses start to gain. He spurs his horse on, now barely ahead of the pack, when a Christmas pudding comes flying out of the sky and crashes on the horses head. Stunned, the horse loses control and falls way behind. He tries to keep going, but all manner of items come flying at him: a tin of paté, a boiled ham, pigs trotters and a gourmet jar of caviar. He can't battle against all that, and limps home to the finish line, last.
His manager comes tearing down to the line, screaming at him: "What happened!!!??? You should have won!!!"
The jockey looks at him, dejected and downcast. "Sorry boss. I was severely hampered."
Here's an old one sexist puzzle that the men get instantly and the women never do...apologies in advance!
A Sultan has three potential wives, the fairest in the land. His Grand Visier comes to him, introducing them all.
"Your excellency," he says,"to make your choices easier, I gave each 1000 coins from the royal coffers, to see what each would do with them"
The Sultan nods to himself, "This is an excellent idea my Visier, it pleases me..."
The first woman steps forward. "Excellency, I feel that the Sultan's wife must look the part, be the most beautiful jewel in your land. And so I have spend the money on the finest makes ups, clothes, and lessons on poise and elegance."
"Ah," says the Sultan, "and you truely are a jewel. This pleases me..."
The second woman steps forward. "Excellency, I feel that the Sultan's wife must equal the power of the Sultan, financially and in influence. I have invested your money wisely and earned it back tenfold, and loaned it again to those of influence to forge strong ties."
"Why, this is unexpected, indeed you have much power. It pleases me..."
The third woman walks forward. "Excellency, I beleive that the Sultan's wife must be the equal and more than the equal intellectually of yourself. I have invested in the broadest education. Not only do I know of finances, but I also know the histories of those around us, the politics, many philosophies and sciences and literature and dilpomacy and art."
"This is an unusual choice," says the Sultan, "but this does indeed please me greatly..."
Which wife did the Sultan choose?
.
.
.
.
.
.
The one with the biggest breasts.
A Sultan has three potential wives, the fairest in the land. His Grand Visier comes to him, introducing them all.
"Your excellency," he says,"to make your choices easier, I gave each 1000 coins from the royal coffers, to see what each would do with them"
The Sultan nods to himself, "This is an excellent idea my Visier, it pleases me..."
The first woman steps forward. "Excellency, I feel that the Sultan's wife must look the part, be the most beautiful jewel in your land. And so I have spend the money on the finest makes ups, clothes, and lessons on poise and elegance."
"Ah," says the Sultan, "and you truely are a jewel. This pleases me..."
The second woman steps forward. "Excellency, I feel that the Sultan's wife must equal the power of the Sultan, financially and in influence. I have invested your money wisely and earned it back tenfold, and loaned it again to those of influence to forge strong ties."
"Why, this is unexpected, indeed you have much power. It pleases me..."
The third woman walks forward. "Excellency, I beleive that the Sultan's wife must be the equal and more than the equal intellectually of yourself. I have invested in the broadest education. Not only do I know of finances, but I also know the histories of those around us, the politics, many philosophies and sciences and literature and dilpomacy and art."
"This is an unusual choice," says the Sultan, "but this does indeed please me greatly..."
Which wife did the Sultan choose?
.
.
.
.
.
.
The one with the biggest breasts.
- BloodFromStone
- Expert
- Posts: 287
- Joined: Sat Oct 30, 2004 4:56 am
Ok, here's a long one, but since we're in the gutter already:
A man is sitting at a bar, when he noticed a big jar of money gathering dust among the wine bottles behind the barkeep. There has to be ten thousand dollars in it at least.
"What's that?" The man asks the barkeep.
"Oh, that's the reward for the Three Tests of Courage. Whoever can complete all three gets the jar."
"Three Tests of Courage?" The man asks, suddenly interested. "What's the first one?"
"You see that guy?" The barkeep said, pointing across the bar to a huge, scarred man sitting at a table alone. He was easily as broad as he was tall, and a large knife was resting on his belt. "The first test is to start a fight with him and win. No one's done even that much." The barkeep added a shrug and went back to serving drinks.
"What's the second?" The man asked, still eyeing the money.
"Well," the barkeep started. "We have an alligator pit in the back. The biggest, meanest croc has had a terrible infected tooth since we got him. The second test is to pull his infected tooth."
"Oh, wow..." The man decided these tests were losing their appeal. "And the third?"
"The third? Well, we run a whorehouse on the second floor of the bar. There's an old prostitute up there that has been in the business for 30 years and never been fully pleased, if you know what I mean." The barkeep winked. "The last test is to please her."
The man nodded and momentarily forgot about the tests. But an few hours and a lot of drinks later, he was feeling confident. He stood up, strolled over to the giant sitting alone, tapping him on the shoulder, and proceeded to wail on him, eventually beating him into submission. He walked back to the bar, bruised up, but victorious, and drank a few more rounds.
"I don't believe it!" The barkeep said. "No one's ever beaten him before."
The first man grinned and ordered one last drink. "Show me that alligator pit, then."
The barkeep opened the door to the back, where a huge pool of alligators were. The biggest of them was easy to pick out. "Good luck," he said, closing the door.
There were horrible thrashing noises from the backroom, you could hear the alligator's jaws snapping together and the man screaming. This went on for some time, but, finally, he emerged from the back room with his clothes torn and bloody, but his fists in the air.
"Alright!" He yelled. "Now where's that whore with the infected tooth?!"
A man is sitting at a bar, when he noticed a big jar of money gathering dust among the wine bottles behind the barkeep. There has to be ten thousand dollars in it at least.
"What's that?" The man asks the barkeep.
"Oh, that's the reward for the Three Tests of Courage. Whoever can complete all three gets the jar."
"Three Tests of Courage?" The man asks, suddenly interested. "What's the first one?"
"You see that guy?" The barkeep said, pointing across the bar to a huge, scarred man sitting at a table alone. He was easily as broad as he was tall, and a large knife was resting on his belt. "The first test is to start a fight with him and win. No one's done even that much." The barkeep added a shrug and went back to serving drinks.
"What's the second?" The man asked, still eyeing the money.
"Well," the barkeep started. "We have an alligator pit in the back. The biggest, meanest croc has had a terrible infected tooth since we got him. The second test is to pull his infected tooth."
"Oh, wow..." The man decided these tests were losing their appeal. "And the third?"
"The third? Well, we run a whorehouse on the second floor of the bar. There's an old prostitute up there that has been in the business for 30 years and never been fully pleased, if you know what I mean." The barkeep winked. "The last test is to please her."
The man nodded and momentarily forgot about the tests. But an few hours and a lot of drinks later, he was feeling confident. He stood up, strolled over to the giant sitting alone, tapping him on the shoulder, and proceeded to wail on him, eventually beating him into submission. He walked back to the bar, bruised up, but victorious, and drank a few more rounds.
"I don't believe it!" The barkeep said. "No one's ever beaten him before."
The first man grinned and ordered one last drink. "Show me that alligator pit, then."
The barkeep opened the door to the back, where a huge pool of alligators were. The biggest of them was easy to pick out. "Good luck," he said, closing the door.
There were horrible thrashing noises from the backroom, you could hear the alligator's jaws snapping together and the man screaming. This went on for some time, but, finally, he emerged from the back room with his clothes torn and bloody, but his fists in the air.
"Alright!" He yelled. "Now where's that whore with the infected tooth?!"
- Gambit37
- Should eat more pies
- Posts: 13720
- Joined: Wed May 31, 2000 1:57 pm
- Location: Location, Location
- Contact:
warning:sexist and rude
This bloke walks into a bar with an ostrich and cat. They all sit down
at a table and the man goes to the bar and says, "A pint of Bitter for
myself, a Gin &Tonic for the ostrich and a Scotch for the cat".
The Barman is a little perplexed but serves the drinks anyway.
Sometime later the ostrich goes to the bar and says, "A G&T for
myself, a pint of bitter for the guv'nor and a whisky for the cat."
The barman is even more bemused but still serves the drinks.
This goes on all evening with the man and the ostrich alternately
buying rounds of drinks, but the cat never does. By the end of the
evening the barman asks the man, "Look, whats the story? I have to
know, why do you have an ostrich and a cat? And how come the cat never
buys a round?"
"Well it's quite a story," says the man. "I was walking down the road
one day when I found a bottle. I uncorked this bottle and Genie came
out and said, `Oh thank you for releasing me, oh Master, what is your
heart's desire? Tell me and it shall be yours.'
"So I asked for a bird with long legs and a tight pussy."
This bloke walks into a bar with an ostrich and cat. They all sit down
at a table and the man goes to the bar and says, "A pint of Bitter for
myself, a Gin &Tonic for the ostrich and a Scotch for the cat".
The Barman is a little perplexed but serves the drinks anyway.
Sometime later the ostrich goes to the bar and says, "A G&T for
myself, a pint of bitter for the guv'nor and a whisky for the cat."
The barman is even more bemused but still serves the drinks.
This goes on all evening with the man and the ostrich alternately
buying rounds of drinks, but the cat never does. By the end of the
evening the barman asks the man, "Look, whats the story? I have to
know, why do you have an ostrich and a cat? And how come the cat never
buys a round?"
"Well it's quite a story," says the man. "I was walking down the road
one day when I found a bottle. I uncorked this bottle and Genie came
out and said, `Oh thank you for releasing me, oh Master, what is your
heart's desire? Tell me and it shall be yours.'
"So I asked for a bird with long legs and a tight pussy."
- Gambit37
- Should eat more pies
- Posts: 13720
- Joined: Wed May 31, 2000 1:57 pm
- Location: Location, Location
- Contact:
A farmer wanted to have his hens serviced, so he went to the market
looking for a rooster. He was hoping he could get a special rooster,
one that could service all of his many hens.
He told this to the market vendor. The vendor replied, "I have just
the rooster for you". Dom here is the horniest rooster you will ever
see!"
So the farmer took Dom back to the farm. Before setting him loose in
the henhouse though, he gave Dom a little pep talk.
"Dom", he said, "I'm counting on you to do your stuff."
And without a word Dom strutted into the henhouse. Dom was as fast as
he was furious, mounting each hen like a thunderbolt. There was much
squawking and many feathers flying, till Dom had finished having his
way with each hen.
But Dom didn't stop there. He went in to the barn and mounted all the
horses, one by one and still at the same frantic pace. Then he went to
the pighouse, where he did the same.
The farmer, watching all of this with disbelief, cried out, "Stop,
Dom,you'll kill yourself."
But Dom continued, seeking out each farm animal in the same manner.
Well, the next morning, the farmer looked out and saw Dom lying there
on his lawn. His legs were up in the air, his eyes rolled back, and
his long tongue hanging out. A buzzard was already circling above Dom.
The farmer walked up to Dom saying, "Oh you poor thing, look what you
did, you've gone and killed yourself. I warned you my little buddy."
"Shhhhh," Dom whispered. "The buzzard's getting closer."
looking for a rooster. He was hoping he could get a special rooster,
one that could service all of his many hens.
He told this to the market vendor. The vendor replied, "I have just
the rooster for you". Dom here is the horniest rooster you will ever
see!"
So the farmer took Dom back to the farm. Before setting him loose in
the henhouse though, he gave Dom a little pep talk.
"Dom", he said, "I'm counting on you to do your stuff."
And without a word Dom strutted into the henhouse. Dom was as fast as
he was furious, mounting each hen like a thunderbolt. There was much
squawking and many feathers flying, till Dom had finished having his
way with each hen.
But Dom didn't stop there. He went in to the barn and mounted all the
horses, one by one and still at the same frantic pace. Then he went to
the pighouse, where he did the same.
The farmer, watching all of this with disbelief, cried out, "Stop,
Dom,you'll kill yourself."
But Dom continued, seeking out each farm animal in the same manner.
Well, the next morning, the farmer looked out and saw Dom lying there
on his lawn. His legs were up in the air, his eyes rolled back, and
his long tongue hanging out. A buzzard was already circling above Dom.
The farmer walked up to Dom saying, "Oh you poor thing, look what you
did, you've gone and killed yourself. I warned you my little buddy."
"Shhhhh," Dom whispered. "The buzzard's getting closer."
- Ameena
- Wordweaver, Murafu Maker
- Posts: 7517
- Joined: Mon Mar 24, 2003 6:25 pm
- Location: Here, where I am sitting!
- Contact:
A joke posted ages ago by a friend on another forum I visit...
A man is driving down the road and breaks down near a
monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and
says, 'My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the
night?'
The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, even fix
his car.
As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound.
The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but
they say, 'We can't tell you. You're not a monk.'
The man is disappointed but thanks them anyway and goes
about his merry way.
Some years later, the same man breaks down in front of the
same monastery. The monks accept him, feed him, even fix his
car. That night, he hears the same strange noise that he had
heard years earlier.
The next morning, he asks what it is, but the monks reply,
'We can't tell you. You're not a monk.'
The man says, 'All right, all right. I'm *dying* to know.
If the only way I can find out what that sound was is to
become a monk, how do I become a monk?'
The monks reply, 'You must travel the Earth and tell us how
many blades of grass there are and the exact number of sand
pebbles. When you find these numbers, you will become a
monk.'
The man sets about his task. Forty-five years later, he
returns and knocks on the door of the monastery. He says, 'I
have traveled the Earth and have found what you have asked
for. There are 145,236,284,232 blades of grass and
281,219,999,129,382 sand pebbles on the Earth.'
The monks reply, 'Congratulations! You are now a monk. We
shall now show you the way to the sound.' The monks lead the
man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, 'The sound is
right behind that door.'
The man reaches for the knob, but the door is locked. He
says, 'Real funny. may I have the key?' The monks give him
the key, and he opens
the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of
stone. The man requests the key to the stone door. The
monks give him the key, and he
opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. He asks for yet
another key from the monks, who provide it. Behind that door
is *another* door, this one made of sapphire. So it went
until the man had gone through doors of emerald, silver,
topaz, amethyst . . .
Finally, the monks say, 'This is the last key to the last
door.'
The man is relieved to no end. He unlocks the door, turns
the knob, and behind that door he is amazed to find the
source of that strange sound.
But I can't tell you what it is because . . . you're not a
monk!
A man is driving down the road and breaks down near a
monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and
says, 'My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the
night?'
The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, even fix
his car.
As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound.
The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but
they say, 'We can't tell you. You're not a monk.'
The man is disappointed but thanks them anyway and goes
about his merry way.
Some years later, the same man breaks down in front of the
same monastery. The monks accept him, feed him, even fix his
car. That night, he hears the same strange noise that he had
heard years earlier.
The next morning, he asks what it is, but the monks reply,
'We can't tell you. You're not a monk.'
The man says, 'All right, all right. I'm *dying* to know.
If the only way I can find out what that sound was is to
become a monk, how do I become a monk?'
The monks reply, 'You must travel the Earth and tell us how
many blades of grass there are and the exact number of sand
pebbles. When you find these numbers, you will become a
monk.'
The man sets about his task. Forty-five years later, he
returns and knocks on the door of the monastery. He says, 'I
have traveled the Earth and have found what you have asked
for. There are 145,236,284,232 blades of grass and
281,219,999,129,382 sand pebbles on the Earth.'
The monks reply, 'Congratulations! You are now a monk. We
shall now show you the way to the sound.' The monks lead the
man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, 'The sound is
right behind that door.'
The man reaches for the knob, but the door is locked. He
says, 'Real funny. may I have the key?' The monks give him
the key, and he opens
the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of
stone. The man requests the key to the stone door. The
monks give him the key, and he
opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. He asks for yet
another key from the monks, who provide it. Behind that door
is *another* door, this one made of sapphire. So it went
until the man had gone through doors of emerald, silver,
topaz, amethyst . . .
Finally, the monks say, 'This is the last key to the last
door.'
The man is relieved to no end. He unlocks the door, turns
the knob, and behind that door he is amazed to find the
source of that strange sound.
But I can't tell you what it is because . . . you're not a
monk!
- cowsmanaut
- Moo Master
- Posts: 4378
- Joined: Fri Jun 30, 2000 12:53 am
- Location: canada
Police arrested Patrick Lawrence, a 22-year-old white male, resident of Dacula, GA, in a pumpkin patch at 11:38 p.m. Friday. Lawrence will be charged with lewd and lascivious behavior, public indecency, and public intoxication at the Gwinnett County courthouse on Monday.
The suspect allegedly stated that as he was passing a pumpkin patch, he decided to stop. "You know, a pumpkin is soft and squishy inside, and there was no one around here for miles. At least I thought there wasn't," he stated in a phone interview from the jail.
Lawrence went on to state that he pulled over to the side of the road, picked out a pumpkin that he felt was appropriate to his purposes, cut a hole in it, and proceeded to satisfy his alleged "need."
"I guess I was just really into it, you know?" he commented with evident embarrassment. In the process, Lawrence apparently failed to notice the Gwinnett County police car approaching and was unaware of his audience until officer Brenda Taylor approached him.
"It was an unusual situation, that's for sure," said officer Taylor. "I walked up to (Lawrence) and he's . . . just working away at this pumpkin."
Taylor went on to describe what happened when she approached Lawrence. "I just went up and said, 'Excuse me sir, but do you realize that you are screwing a pumpkin?'
He got real surprised, as you'd expect, and then looked me straight in the face and said, 'A pumpkin? Damn...is it midnight already?'"
The suspect allegedly stated that as he was passing a pumpkin patch, he decided to stop. "You know, a pumpkin is soft and squishy inside, and there was no one around here for miles. At least I thought there wasn't," he stated in a phone interview from the jail.
Lawrence went on to state that he pulled over to the side of the road, picked out a pumpkin that he felt was appropriate to his purposes, cut a hole in it, and proceeded to satisfy his alleged "need."
"I guess I was just really into it, you know?" he commented with evident embarrassment. In the process, Lawrence apparently failed to notice the Gwinnett County police car approaching and was unaware of his audience until officer Brenda Taylor approached him.
"It was an unusual situation, that's for sure," said officer Taylor. "I walked up to (Lawrence) and he's . . . just working away at this pumpkin."
Taylor went on to describe what happened when she approached Lawrence. "I just went up and said, 'Excuse me sir, but do you realize that you are screwing a pumpkin?'
He got real surprised, as you'd expect, and then looked me straight in the face and said, 'A pumpkin? Damn...is it midnight already?'"
- BloodFromStone
- Expert
- Posts: 287
- Joined: Sat Oct 30, 2004 4:56 am
3 ducks walk into a bar and order some beer.
The barman, surprised to hear ducks actually speaking, starts conversation, asking their names and whereabouts.
The first duck replies : "My name's Hewey, been in and out of puddles all day so I need a beer !"
The second duck replies : "My name's Dewey, been in and out of puddles all day, I'm pretty thirsty now !"
The last duck answers with an embarassed look : "Well, I'm Puddles..."
The barman, surprised to hear ducks actually speaking, starts conversation, asking their names and whereabouts.
The first duck replies : "My name's Hewey, been in and out of puddles all day so I need a beer !"
The second duck replies : "My name's Dewey, been in and out of puddles all day, I'm pretty thirsty now !"
The last duck answers with an embarassed look : "Well, I'm Puddles..."
- cowsmanaut
- Moo Master
- Posts: 4378
- Joined: Fri Jun 30, 2000 12:53 am
- Location: canada
-
- Ee Master
- Posts: 688
- Joined: Mon May 07, 2001 7:00 pm
- Location: Indiana, USA
- Contact:
Did you guys catch the transcript between the U.S. Navy captain and Canadian lighthouse keeper? (I don't know what the real term is, but lighthouse keeper sounds good. Sort of like dungeon keeper, but not quite as menacing.) Here it is. Decide for yourself, but it cracked me up.
________________________________________
Americans: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the North to avoid a collision.
Canadians: Recommend you divert YOUR course 15 degrees to the South to avoid a collision.
Americans: This is the Captain of a US Navy ship. I say again, divert YOUR course.
Canadians: No. I say again, you divert YOUR course.
Americans: THIS IS THE AIRCRAFT CARRIER USS LINCOLN, THE SECOND LARGEST SHIP IN THE UNITED STATES' ATLANTIC FLEET. WE ARE ACCOMPANIED BY THREE DESTROYERS, THREE CRUISERS AND NUMEROUS SUPPORT VESSELS. I DEMAND THAT YOU CHANGE YOUR COURSE 15 DEGREES NORTH, THAT'S ONE FIVE DEGREES NORTH, OR COUNTER MEASURES WILL BE UNDERTAKEN TO ENSURE THE SAFETY OF THIS SHIP.
Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your call.
________________________________________
Americans: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the North to avoid a collision.
Canadians: Recommend you divert YOUR course 15 degrees to the South to avoid a collision.
Americans: This is the Captain of a US Navy ship. I say again, divert YOUR course.
Canadians: No. I say again, you divert YOUR course.
Americans: THIS IS THE AIRCRAFT CARRIER USS LINCOLN, THE SECOND LARGEST SHIP IN THE UNITED STATES' ATLANTIC FLEET. WE ARE ACCOMPANIED BY THREE DESTROYERS, THREE CRUISERS AND NUMEROUS SUPPORT VESSELS. I DEMAND THAT YOU CHANGE YOUR COURSE 15 DEGREES NORTH, THAT'S ONE FIVE DEGREES NORTH, OR COUNTER MEASURES WILL BE UNDERTAKEN TO ENSURE THE SAFETY OF THIS SHIP.
Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your call.
Gah, I can't remember where I saw it, but I seem to recall a conversation between a tech support person and some DoD personnel. The gist of the conversation was the unhelpfulness of the tech person. The DoD man poited this out, to which the reply was 'well, i'm sorry, you aren't our only customer', to which his reply was 'yes, but i'm sure we are the only customer with a nuclear capability'
Here is something I saw on the Internet:
When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter's chest. He would open the door and immediately affect a good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a hand that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.
Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter's suitors feel even worse. My motto: wilt them in the living room and they'll stay wilted all night.
"So," I'll call out jovially. "I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you're stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?"
As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.
Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure as heck not picking anything up.
Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.
Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots.
Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.
Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I WILL kill you.
Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."
Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.
Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness.
Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her adam's apple. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay.
My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too-there are only eight of them, for crying out loud!
And, for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them. (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive.) I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate-ink washes off-and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.
One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter's would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times) she asked me why I was being so hard on the boy. "Don't you remember being that age?" she challenged.
Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the eight simple rules?
The Cameron Column, A Free Internet Newsletter
Copyright W. Bruce Cameron 1999
When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter's chest. He would open the door and immediately affect a good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a hand that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.
Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter's suitors feel even worse. My motto: wilt them in the living room and they'll stay wilted all night.
"So," I'll call out jovially. "I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you're stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?"
As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.
Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure as heck not picking anything up.
Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.
Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots.
Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.
Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I WILL kill you.
Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."
Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.
Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness.
Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her adam's apple. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay.
My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too-there are only eight of them, for crying out loud!
And, for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them. (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive.) I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate-ink washes off-and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.
One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter's would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times) she asked me why I was being so hard on the boy. "Don't you remember being that age?" she challenged.
Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the eight simple rules?
The Cameron Column, A Free Internet Newsletter
Copyright W. Bruce Cameron 1999