Person #1: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the North to avoid a collision.
Person #2: Recommend you divert YOUR course 15 degrees to South to avoid a collision.
Person #1: This is the Captain of a US Navy ship. I say again, divert YOUR course.
Person #2: No. I say again, you divert YOUR course.
Person #1. THIS IS THE AIRCRAFT CARRIER ENTERPRISE, WE ARE A LARGE WARSHIP OF THE US NAVY. DIVERT YOUR COURSE NOW!
Person #2. This is a lighthouse. Your call.
Next day, the agent calls back and says he can book a five-day cruise. The guy says he'll take it, returns to the same pharmacy and buys two more Dramamine and two more condoms.
The following day, the travel agent calls again and says he can now book an eight-day cruise, so the guy goes back to the drug store and buys three more Dramamine and three more condoms.
The curious pharmacist asks, "If it makes you sick, how come you keep doing it?"
The mother went in and told her son, "We don't use that kind of language in this house. Now I want you to go to your room for 2 hours. When you come out you may play with your train but I want you to use clean language."
2 hours later, mother was still working in the kitchen. Her son comes out of his room and resumes playing with his train. Soon the train stopped and the mother heard her son say: "All passengers disembarking the train, please remember to take all of your belongings with you, thank you for riding with us today and hope your trip was a pleasant one. We hope you will ride with us soon."
"For those of you just boarding, we ask that you store all of your hand luggage under your seat, remember there is no smoking except in the club car. We hope you will have a pleasant and relaxing journey with us today."
"For those of you who are pissed off about the 2 hour delay, please see the bitch in the kitchen."
"Now that's a story" he said, "Do you see those stone dykes over there and over those hills yonder? Well I built those. Twenty years I've been building stone dykes, but do they call me Johnny the brickie? Naw. And do you see those wooden barns over there? I built those, but do they call me Johnny the carpenter? Naw. And see those cows over there? I've been looking after those for as long as I can remember. Do they call me Johnny the cowboy? Naw. And those tree stumps there, I cut all those trees down with my chainsaw, and do they call me Johnny the lumberjack? Naw. I shag ONE SHEEP................."
"How do you remove the gorilla?" the guy asks.
"Simple" replies the exterminator "I got a ball bat, a pit bull, and a shotgun. I climb up the tree, smack the gorilla with the bat, and when he falls, the dog grabs him by the balls until I can load him in the truck."
"So what's the gun for?" the customer asks.
"Well, sometimes the gorilla puts up a fight and knocks me out of the tree first. If that happens, I want you to shoot the damn dog!!"
"I feel up to the challange Father," he said, "but I am not sure about how to run the confessional. What form of pennance do I perscribe for the various sins I will be confronted with?"
The experienced prest left him a list coordinating sins and pennance, and reassuring the young man, he left for Rome.
The young priest's first confessional was soon upon him, and he was quite nervous as he stepped into his both clutching the list his predecessor left him.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I have had impure thoughts about a woman I work with" came the first voice.
Nervously the young priest checked his list:
Impure thoughts: see also
He then referred to adulterous thoughts and found that 4 hail Marys were appropriate. Relieved, he prescribed the pennance and waited.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned," said the next person, "I took $50.00 from my employer's desk!"
The young priest looked to his list again, and immediately found:
Stealing:
| $10.00 | 10 hail Marys |
| $100.00 | 20 hail Marys |
| $1000.00 | 50 hail Marys |
| $1000.00 | 80 hail Marys and five rosary prayers |
After assigning the appropriate pennance, the young priest calmed down and felt confident in his list to provide him with the appropriate answer. He waited a while until his next confessor arrived.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned," said the next person, "I have engaged in oral sex!"
The young priest again consulted his list. To his dismay, oral sex was not listed. He checked "blow jobs" and everything else he could think of but oral sex was completely absent from the list.
Finally, he grabbed a choir boy, who just happened to be walking by. He asked quite hurriedly, as he knew the confessor was waiting.
"What does the priest give for a blow job?"
"Oh, sometimes a Mars, sometimes a Snickers."
Old man responds, "Pinnoccio?"
The next Sunday, the new Priest did as instructed and talked up a storm. He felt great, however, upon arriving at the Rectory, he found a note from the Monsignor.
The note read:
The Indian was shocked. When the guy asked to talk to his horse, the Indian said, "HORSE NO TALK." Again, the guy threw his voice and asked the horse, "How's this Indian treat you?" and had the horse answer back, "OK... I like the travel and his wife is very kind to me." Again, the Indian was shocked. When the guy asked to talk to his sheep, the Indian became very nervous and exclaimed, "SHEEP LIE!"
"This class was a religious experience for me... I had to take it all on faith."
"Text makes a satisfying `thud' when dropped on the floor."
"The class is worthwhile because I need it for the degree."
"His blackboard technique puts Rembrandt to shame."
"Textbook is confusing... Someone with a knowledge of English should proofread it."
"Have you ever fell asleep in class and awoke in another? That's the way I felt all term."
"In class I learn I can fudge answers and get away with it."
"Keep lecturer or tenure board will be shot."
"The recitation instructor would make a good parking lot attendant. Tries to tell you where to go, but you can never understand him."
"Text is useless. I use it to kill roaches in my room."
"In class the syllabus is more important than you are."
"I am convinced that you can learn by osmosis by just sitting in his class."
"Help! I've fallen asleep and I can't wake up!"
"Problem sets are a decoy to lure you away from potential exam material."
"Recitation was great. It was so confusing that I forgot who I was, where I was, and what I was doing -- it's a great stress reliever."
"He is one of the best teachers I have had... He is well-organized, presents good lectures, and creates interest in the subject. I hope my comments don't hurt his chances of getting tenure."
"I would sit in class and stare out the window at the squirrels. They've got a cool nest in the tree."
"He teaches like Speedy Gonzalez on a caffeine high."
"This course kept me out of trouble from 2-4:30 on Tuesdays and Thursdays."
"Most of us spent the 1st 3 weeks terrified of the class. Then solidarity kicked in."
"Bogus number crunching. My HP is exhausted."
"The absolute value of the TA was less than epsilon."
"TA steadily improved throughout the course... I think he started drinking and it really loosened him up."
"Information was presented like a ruptured fire hose -- spraying in all directions -- no way to stop it."
"I never bought the text. My $60 was better spent on the Led Zeppelin tapes that I used more while doing the problem sets that I would have used the text."
"What's the quality of the text? 'Text is printed on high quality paper.'"
from Humour Digest #72
"If we don't succeed, we run the risk of failure."
"Republicans understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child."
"Welcome to President Bush, Mrs. Bush, and my fellow astronauts."
"Mars is essentially in the same orbit... Mars is somewhat the same distance from the Sun, which is very important. We have seen pictures where there are canals, we believe, and water. If there is water, that means there is oxygen. If oxygen, that means we can breathe."
"What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is."
"The Holocaust was an obscene period in our nation's history. I mean in this century's history. But we all lived in this century. I didn't live in this century."
"I believe we are on an irreversible trend toward more freedom and democracy - but that could change."
"One word sums up probably the responsibility of any vice president, and that one word is 'to be prepared'."
"May our nation continue to be the beakon of hope to the world."
"Verbosity leads to unclear, inarticulate things."
"We don't want to go back to tomorrow, we want to go forward."
"I have made good judgements in the Past. I have made good judgements in the Future."
"The future will be better tomorrow."
"We're going to have the best-educated American people in the world."
"People that are really very weird can get into sensitive positions and have a tremendous impact on history."
"I stand by all the misstatements that I've made."
"We have a firm commitment to NATO, we are a *part* of NATO. We have a firm commitment to Europe. We are a *part* of Europe."
"Public speaking is very easy."
"I am not part of the problem. I am a Republican."
"I love California, I practically grew up in Phoenix."
"A low voter turnout is an indication of fewer people going to the polls."
"When I have been asked during these last weeks who caused the riots and the killing in L.A., my answer has been direct and simple: Who is to blame for the riots? The rioters are to blame. Who is to blame for the killings? The killers are to blame."
"Illegitimacy is something we should talk about in terms of not having it."
"Murphy Brown is doing better than I am. At least she knows she still has a job next year."
"We are ready for any unforeseen event that may or may not occur."
"For NASA, space is still a high priority."
"Quite frankly, teachers are the only profession that teach our children."
"The American people would not want to know of any misquotes that Dan Quayle may or may not make."
"We're all capable of mistakes, but I do not care to enlighten you on the mistakes we may or may not have made."
"It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it."
"[It's] time for the human race to enter the solar system."
About that time another man came in and asked if anyone in the bar owned a Great Dane that was sitting in front of the bar. The owner replied, "Sure do, mister. What do you mean _was_ sitting in front of the bar?" "Well, my dog killed him accidentally." the man replied.
"WHAT!!!" screamed the great dane owner, "That's not possible! What kind of dog do you have?" "A Chihuahua." the man replied.
"WHAT!!! How the hell did that happen?!", the owner asked...
"Well, 'seems my Chihuahua got stuck in your dogs throat..."
You should have no trouble with diskettes now.
"If combat means living in a ditch, females have biological problems staying in a ditch for thirty days because they get infections and they don't have upper body strength. I mean, some do, but they're relatively rare. On the other hand, men are basically little piglets, you drop them in the ditch, they roll around in it, doesn't matter, you know. These things are very real. On the other hand, if combat means being on an Aegis-class cruiser managing the computer controls for twelve ships and their rockets, a female may be again dramatically better than a male who gets very, very frustrated sitting in a chair all the time because males are biologically driven to go out and hunt giraffes."-- Adjunct Professor Newt Gingrich, Reinhardt College, January 7, 1995, "Renewing American Civilization."
The following is a letter making Internet e-mail rounds to Rep. Newt Gingrich from Fresno Bee reporter John Scalzi. It includes an informal poll Scalzi conducted on Newt's remarks about --and astonishing misunderstanding of -- typical male behavior.
Dear Mr. Gingrich:
My name is John Scalzi, and I am a columnist for the Fresno Bee in Fresno, California. In the days since the unearthing of your comments about men, women, combat, and the biological drive for men to hunt giraffes, I have taken it upon myself to conduct a poll to see whether that innate giraffe-hunting urge (and the little piglet wallowing urge) is in fact alive and well in the average American male.
While the sample polled is statistically small (50 men, basically whomever was handy at the time) and largely comprised of white, college-educated, gainfully employed males, I nevertheless feel that the information gleaned from this poll will be of some value to someone, somewhere, some time. Perhaps you yourself, should the subject of instinctual giraffe slaughtering come up again. Certainly for me, as it takes up the bulk of my column, to be published soon.
Thank you for your time, and happy hunting and/or wallowing, whichever the case may be.
I used to work in a computer store and one day we had a gentleman call in with a smoking power supply. The service rep was having a bit of trouble convincing this guy that he had a hardware problem.
Service Rep: Sir, something has burned within your power supply.
Customer: I bet that there is some command that I can put into the AUTOEXEC.BAT that will take care of this.
Service Rep: There is nothing that software can do to help you with this problem.
Customer: I know that there is something that I can put in...some command... maybe it should go into the CONFIG.SYS.
[After a few minutes of going round and round]
Service Rep: Okay, I am not supposed to tell anyone this but there a hidden command in some versions of DOS that you can use. I want you to edit your AUTOEXEC.BAT and add the last line as C:\DOS\NOSMOKE and reboot your computer.
[Customer does this]
Customer: It is still smoking.
Service Rep: I guess you'll need to call Microsoft and ask them for a patch for the NOSMOKE.EXE.
[The customer then hung up. We thought that we had heard the last of this guy but NO... he calls back four hours later]
Service Rep: Hello Sir, how is your computer?
Customer: I called Microsoft and they said that my power supply is incompatible with their NOSMOKE.EXE and that I need to get a new one. I was wondering when I can have that done and how much it will cost..
Fifteen minutes later the driver still hadn't returned. Rush decided to make use of the time and wrote another poorly researched book that would make him millions. Two hours passed and still the driver had not returned. Rush wrote another book. Finally, after almost four hours, the driver returned.
"What the hell took you so long?", asked Rush.
"Well the farmer asked me in for a beer, his wife made me a great homecooked meal right down to fresh apple cobbler for dessert, and the farmer's daughter fucked me till I was as limp as a wet rag and too sore to move!"
"Good God! What the hell did you say to him?", queried Rush.
"I told him that I was Rush Limbaugh's driver and that I had just killed the pig."
Enclosed is our latest version of MS #85-02-22-RRRRR, that is, the re-re-re-revised version of our paper. Choke on it. We have again rewritten the entire manuscript from start to finish. We even changed the goddamned running head! Hopefully we have suffered enough by now to satisfy even your bloodthirsty reviewers.
I shall skip the usual point-by-point description of every single change we made in response to the critiques. After all, it is fairly clear that your reviewers are less interested in details of scientific procedure than in working out their personality problems and sexual frustrations by seeking some sort of demented glee in the sadistic and arbitrary exercise of tyrannical power over hapless authors like ourselves who happen to fall into their clutches. We do understand that, in view of the misanthropic psychopaths you have on your editorial board, you need to keep sending them papers, for if they weren't reviewing manuscripts they'd probably be out mugging old ladies or clubbing baby seals to death. Still, from this batch of reviewers, C was clearly the most hostile, and we request that you not ask her or him to review this revision. Indeed, we have mailed letter bombs to four or five people we suspected of being reviewer C, so if you send the manuscript back to them the review process could be unduly delayed.
Some of the reviewers comments we couldn't do anything about. For example, if (as reviewer C suggested), several of my ancestry were indeed drawn from other species, it is too late to change that. Other suggestions were implemented, however, and the paper has improved and benefited. Thus, you suggested that we shorten the manuscript by 5 pages, and we were able to do this very effectively by altering the margins and printing the paper in a different font with a smaller typeface. We agree with you that the paper is much better this way.
One perplexing problem was dealing with suggestions #13-28 by reviewer B. As you may recall (that is, if you even bother reading the reviews before doing your decision letter), that reviewer listed 16 works the he/she felt we should cite in this paper. These were on a variety of different topics, none of which had any relevance to our work that we could see. Indeed, one was an essay on the Spanish-American War from a high school literary magazine. the only common thread was that all 16 were by the same author, presumably someone reviewer B greatly admires and feels should be more widely cited. To handle this, we have modified the introduction and added, after the review of relevant literature, a subsection entitled "Review of Irrelevant Literature" that discusses these articles and also duly addresses some of the more asinine suggestions by other reviewers.
We hope that you will be pleased with this revision and finally recognize how urgently deserving of publication this work is. If not, then you are an unscrupulous, depraved monster with no shred of human decency. You ought to be in a cage. May whatever heritage you come from be the butt of the next round of ethnic jokes. If you do accept it, however, we wish to thank you for your patience and wisdom throughout this process and to express our appreciation of your scholarly insights. To repay you, we would be happy to review some manuscripts for you; please send us the next manuscript that any of these reviewers sends to your journal.
Assuming you accept this paper, we would also like to add a footnote acknowledging your help with this manuscript and to point out that we liked this paper much better the way we originally wrote it but you held the editorial shotgun to our heads and forced us to chop, reshuffle, restate, hedge, expand, shorten, and in general convert a meaty paper into stir-fried vegetables. We couldn't or wouldn't, have done it without your input.
Sincerely,
Dear Dr.
Thank you for your thoughtful response to my decision letter concerning the above-referenced piece of excrement.
I have asked several experts who specialize in the area of research you dabble in to have a look at your pathetic little submission, and their reviews are enclosed. I shall not waste my LaserJet ink reiterating the details of their reviews, but please allow me to highlight some of the more urgent points of contention they raise:
If your original submission had been as articulate as your most recent letter, we might have avoided this interchange. It is too bad that tenure and promotion committees at your university do not have access to authors' correspondence with editors, for it is clear that you would be promoted on the basis of your wit alone. Unfortunately, it's the publication that counts, and I'm sorry to say that the Archives is not prepared to accept this revision. We would be perfectly ambivalent about receiving a ninth revision from you.
"Don't worry", said the kind hearted doctor, "when your time comes, go to the hospital and have your baby. There's sure to be someone in there for a gall bladder operation. We'll give her the baby and tell her it wasn't a gall bladder problem after all!"
The girl followed his plan, but when the baby was born the only gall bladder case in the hospital was a middle-aged priest.
"What the hell," thought the doctor, "I'll give it a try."
So he presented the baby to the priest, who was overjoyed.
"This is an act of God," he exclaimed happily,and took the baby home.
They lived contentedly for twenty years, until the priest found himself on his deathbed. He called the boy in and said, "My son, I must tell you something. I'm not really your father--I'm your mother. The bishop is your father."
A friend just got back from a holiday ski trip to Utah with the kind of story that warms the cockles of anybody's heart. Conditions were perfect, 12 below, no feeling in the toes, basic numbness all over. The "Tell me when we're having fun" kind of day.
One of the women in the group complained to her husband that she was in dire need of a restroom. He told her not to worry, that he was sure there was relief at the top of the lift in the form of a powder room for female skiers in distress. He was wrong, of course, and the pain did not go away.
If you've ever had nature hit its panic button in you, then you know that a temperature of 12 below zero doesn't help matters. So with time running out, she weighed her options.
Her husband, picking up on the intensity of the pain, suggested that
since she was wearing an all white ski outfit, she should go off in
the woods. No one would ever notice, he assured her. The white
would provide more than adequate camouflage. So she headed for the
tree line, began disrobing and proceeded to do her thing. If you've
ever parked on the side of a slope, then you know there is a right
way and a wrong way to set your skies so you don't move. Yup, you
got it.
She had the skies positioned the wrong way.
Steep slopes are not forgiving, especially during embarrassing moments. Without any warning, the woman found herself skiing backward, out of control racing through the trees, somehow missing all of them, and onto the slope. Her derriere and the reverse side were still bare, her pants down around her knees, and she was picking up speed all the while she continued on backwards, totally out-of-control, creating an unusual sight for the other skiers.
The woman skied, if you define that verb loosely, back under the lift, and finally collided violently with a pylon, breaking her arm. She was thus unable to pull up her ski pants. At long last her husband arrived, put an end to her nude show, then went to the base of the mountain and summoned the ski patrol, who transported her to a hospital.
In the emergency room she was regrouping when a man with a broken leg was put in a bed next to hers.
"So, how'd you break your leg?" she asked, making small talk.
"It was the darndest thing you ever saw," he said. "I was riding up this ski lift and suddenly I couldn't believe my eyes. There was this crazy woman skiing backwards out of control down the mountain with her bare bottom hanging out."
"I leaned over to get a better look and I guess I didn't realize how far I'd moved. I fell out of the lift."
"So how'd you break your arm?"