Friday humour - November 05, 1998

     From Tony at Bluehaze:

First few contributions this week are again from the older part of the
collection (material which has been waiting for around six months for no
particular reason).  But I'll chuck in a few recent ones near the end as
well.  (There's still a lot of good stuff to come over the next few months -
I just checked the size of the jokes drawer and it's still sitting at
around the 20,000 line mark!)

This first little group of one-liners came mainly from David over at
Telecom, but it also includes a few from Deanna:

Warning: Dates in Calendar are closer than they appear.

Daddy, why doesn't the magnet pick up this floppy disk?

Suicidal twin kills sister by mistake!

Lottery: A tax on people who are bad at math.

Ever notice how fast Windows runs?  Neither did I.

Double your drive space - delete Windows!

"Very funny, Scotty.  Now beam down my clothes."

Oops.  My brain just hit a bad sector.

Better to understand a little than to misunderstand a lot.

Where there's a will, I want to be in it.

I'm as confused as a baby in a topless bar.

All generalisations are false, including this one.

Since Americans throw rice at weddings, do orientals throw hamburgers?

Why is lemon juice mostly artificial ingredients but dishwashing
liquid contains real lemons?

Why do shops that stay open 24 hours a day have locks on the door?

    Now a quite shortish tale from the infamous list out west ...

An old timer was talking to a young man in a bar in Scotland:

"Laddy, look oot there ta the field.  Do ya see that fence?  Look how
well it's built.  I built that fence stone by stone with me own two
hands.  Piled it for months.  But do they call me
McGregor-the-Fence-Builder?  Nooo..."

Then the old man gestured at the bar.  "Look here at the bar.   Do ya see
how smooth and just it is?  I planed that surface down by me own achin'
back.  I carved that wood with me own hard labour, for eight days.  But
do they call me McGregor-the-Bar-builder?  Nooo..."

Then the old man points out the window.  "Eh, Laddy, look out to sea.  Do
ya see that pier that stretches out as far as the eye can see?  I built
that pier with the sweat off me back.  I nailed it board by board.  But
do they call me McGregor-the-Pier-Builder?  Nooo..."

Then the old man looks around nervously and mutters under his breath

"But ya fuck one lousy goat . . . "

    This next one's from Dave over at the Elevator factory ... (well - it
    was back in August ... probably a warehouse or something now!):

                         Equal Opportunity

                         BECAUSE WE ARE MEN

If you put a woman on a pedestal and try to protect her from the Rat
Race, you're a male chauvinist pig.  If you stay at home and do the
housework, you're a pansy.

If you work too hard, there is never any time for her and the kids.  If
you don't work hard enough, you're a good for nothing layabout.

If she has a boring repetitive job with low pay, that is exploitation.
If we have a boring repetitive job with low pay, we should get off our
butts and find something better.

If a man gets a promotion ahead of her, that is favouritism.  If she gets
a promotion ahead of a man, that is equal opportunity.

If we mention how nice she looks, that is sexual harassment.

If we keep quiet, that is typical male indifference.  If we cry, we're a
Sheila, if we don't we're an insensitive bastard.

If a man thumps her, that is wife bashing.  If she thumps him, that's
self defence.

If he makes a decision without consulting her, he's a chauvinist.  If she
makes a decision without regard for his feelings, then she's a liberated

If he asks her to do something she doesn't enjoy, that is domination.  If
she asks him, it's a favour.

If we appreciate the female form and frilly underwear, we're sexual
perverts.  If we don't we're poofters.

If we like a woman to keep in shape and shave her legs, that is sexist.
If we don't care, that is unromantic.

If we try to keep ourselves in shape, that is vanity.  If we don't, we're

If we buy her flowers, we're after something.  If we don't, we're

If we are proud of our achievements, we're up ourselves.  If we aren't,
we're not ambitious.

If we ask for a cuddle, we never think of anything else but sex.  If
we're totally wrecked after a bad day at the office, we never give a
stuff about other people's needs.

If she has a headache, it's because she's tired.  If he has a headache,
it's because he doesn't love her any more.

If we want it too often, we're over sexed.  If we can't perform on cue,
there must be someone else.

   Now, this next one's a true story.  It happened just a few days ago in
   this Division, over at our WA site.  We received the following email:

>> From: "????? ????" <????>  [name suppressed]
>> To: <>
>> Date: Sat, 31 Oct 1998 21:02:33 -0500
>> Can your company fill this order?
>> Aged garlic extract, amiino acids, antioxidants, Borage oil, coenzyme
>> Q10, coenzyme Q1 (NADH) Enzymes, Fiber

Suitable replies were solicited, and the following suggestion was received
from one scientist:

   Dear Clarence,

   Thank you for placing your order with our company.  You didn't
   specify quantities with your order, so we have supplied our standard
   quantity of one metric ton of each material.

   The total cost of your order is $45,750 (Australian Dollars), plus
   $10,250 shipping costs.

   The order will ship via M.V. Maritime Conveyor on 4.11.98.

   Please advise our shipping agents, K L Gunnel and Sons, of your
   delivery instructions.  They can be contacted on 08 9334 8000.  As you
   are a new customer, we will require payment in cash or banker's cheque
   on delivery.

   Again, Thank you for your business.

   John Howard
   Overseas Business Manager

   Next, another contribution from Mick Rand over the waves (who's the
   cousin (not the brother) of David!):

Another true story for you, as true as I am riding this bike: Mick Rand.

I am very lucky; I live in a very beautiful part of the English
countryside, two miles from the Welsh border.  The scenery is dramatic and
both mountainous and hilly.

Just a few miles away is a wonderful character called Arthur.  He is
about 70, lives in a picture book cottage that is well kept.  Alongside is
a small pasture in which he keeps a pet donkey.

He has been known to walk miles with this donkey over the hills.

This particular evening the weather changed for the worse, and Arthur,
with his donkey sought shelter for the night.  He called upon another
friends' farm and asked for accommodation.  Arthur's colleague agreed and
suggested the donkey be stabled in the barn with a young stallion.
Arthur was a bit concerned, and enquired if the stallion had had his
'oats' recently.

To cut a long story short Arthur covered his donkey with a large white
bed sheet to prevent the stallion getting any sexual ideas during the
night.  In the depths of the night an almighty racket was heard in the
barn.  A kicking of hoofs and a braying of donkeys etc.

The following morning Arthur went to see his donkey.  It had gone -
bolted.  Arthur and his colleague searched everywhere, and came across
the postman making his deliveries.

"Have you seen my donkey, Dai-the-Post?" asked Arthur.

"Yes.  I have, most unusual, he was running in that direction with a
pocket handkerchief stuck out of his arse!"

    This next one was forwarded on by Lars (who's currently in the thick
    of designing our new Effort spread-sheet amongst other jobs):

Bob was driving over the Golden Gate Bridge one afternoon at about 90
miles per hour.  Very soon he saw the familiar flashing light behind him,
and, being the good citizen that he is, pulled to the curb and stopped.

The officer approached and as he reached the window, leaned in and asked,
"Boy, do you know how fast you were going?"

Bob asked, "Uhh, over 55?"

"Son, you were doing 93 in a 55 mile per hour zone.  You're getting a
ticket and will have to pay a hefty fine!"

"If you knew how fast I was going, why did you ask me?" queried Bob.

The office ignored this and continued in his normal charming way.  "I'll
bet you don't have the money for a fine.  In fact, I'll bet you don't
even have a job!" said the officer.

Bob answered, "Oh yes, I have a job!  A very good, well-paying job."

The patrolman sneered, "You are one of the scruffiest looking characters
I have every seen.  Just what kind of a job do you have?"

Bob said, "I am a rectum stretcher."

"You're a what?" asked the cop.

"I said I'm a rectum stretcher." replied Bob.

"Just what does a rectum stretcher do?" asked the officer.

"Well, it's like this" explained Bob.  "These people call me up and say
they would like to have their rectum stretched, so I go over to their
place.  First, I get one finger in, and then gradually, I work in a
second.  Then I get one hand in and work until I get the other in.  I
keep pulling and pulling until finally, I have it stretched to six foot."

The officer, absorbed in his mental images, let down his guard and asked,
"What in the hell do you do with a six-foot arsehole?"

Bob replied, "Simple - you just give it a radar gun and put it at the end
of the bridge."

     Now for one from one of our most regular contributors back at Port
     Melbourne - Andrew the Urban:

                         BUSINESS IS BUSINESS

After watching sales falling off for three straight months at Kentucky
Fried Chicken, the Colonel calls up the Pope and asks for a favour.

The Pope says, "What can I do?"

The Colonel says, "I need you to change the daily prayer from, 'Give us
this day our daily bread' to 'Give us this day our daily chicken'.  If
you do it, I'll donate 10 Million Dollars to the Vatican."

The Pope replies, "I am sorry.  That is the Lord's prayer and I can not
change the words."

So the Colonel hangs up.  But after another month of dismal sales, the
Colonel panics, and calls again.

"Listen your Holiness.  I really need your help.  I'll donate $50 million
dollars if you change the words of the daily prayer from 'Give us this
day our daily bread' to 'Give us this day our daily chicken.'"

The Pope responds, "It is very tempting, Colonel Sanders.  The Church
could do a lot of good with that much money.  It would help us to support
many charities.  But, again, I must decline.  It is the Lord's prayer, and
I can't change the words."

So the Colonel gives up again.  But after two more months of terrible
sales, the Colonel gets desperate.

"This is my final offer, your Holiness.  If you change the words of the
daily prayer from, 'Give us this day our daily bread' to 'Give us this
day our daily chicken' I will donate $100 million to the Vatican."

The Pope replies, "Err ... let me get back to you."

So the next day, the Pope calls together all of his Bishops, and says:
"I have some good news and I have some bad news.  The good news is that
KFC is going to donate $100 million to the Vatican."

The bishops rejoice at the news.  Then one asks about the bad news.  The
Pope replies,

"The bad news is that we lost the Tip Top Bread account."

     And last but not least - another (recent) one from Eric Frazer

A man was walking along a California beach and stumbled across an Old
lamp.  He picked it up and rubbed it and out popped a genie.  The genie
said  "OK.  You released me from the lamp, blah blah blah.  This is the
fourth time this month and I'm getting a little sick of these wishes so
you can forget about three.  You only get one wish!"

The man sat and thought about it for a while and said, "I've always
wanted to go to Hawaii but I'm scared to fly and I get very seasick.
Could you build me a bridge to Hawaii so I can drive over there to

The genie laughed and said, "That's impossible.  Think of the logistics
of that!  How would the supports ever reach the bottom of the Pacific?
Think of how much concrete ... how much steel!!  No, think of another

The man said OK and tried to think of a really good wish.  Finally, he
said, "I've been married and divorced four times.  My wives always said
that I don't care and that I'm insensitive.  So, I wish that I could
understand women ... know how they feel inside and what they're thinking
when they give me the silent treatment ... know why they're crying, know
what they really want when they say 'nothing' ... know how to make them
truly happy ..."

The genie said, "You want that bridge two lanes or four?"
[ End Fri humour ]

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