Friday humour - March 19, 1999
From Tony at Bluehaze:
Thought I might just rummage around near the mid-point of the jokes
drawer this week, which happens to correspond to November of last year.
First up in this semi-random choice for the week is one forwarded on by
our own Nicki A-O:
Believe it or not, each simile listed below was actually used by High
School students in their essays and/or short stories:
# # # # #
He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy
who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those
boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at
high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one
of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to
dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling
McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled
with vegetable soup.
From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie,
surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and
"Jeopardy" comes on at 7 pm instead of 7:30.
Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.
Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
He was as tall as a six-foot-three inch tree.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry
them in hot grease.
Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie,
this guy would be buried in the credits as something like "second tall
Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the
grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left
Cleveland at 6:36 pm travelling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19
pm at a speed of 35 mph.
The politician was gone and unnoticed, like the full-stop after the Dr.
on a Dr. Pepper can.
They lived in a typical suburban neighbourhood with picket fences that
resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.
John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like
underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
The second contribution this week was originally forwarded on by
John S over at the Museum of Vic. (Since then, it's also been
passed on by Linda Ottery, Martha Hills, and Steve Fletcher):
A Church Pastor who was previously a sailor was very aware that ships are
addressed as "she" and "her". He often wondered what gender computers
should be addressed.
To answer that question, he set up two groups of computer experts. The
first was comprised of women, while the second of men. Each group was
asked to recommend whether computers should be referred to in the
feminine gender or the masculine gender. They were also asked to give
four reasons for their recommendations.
The group of women reported that the computers should be referred to
in the masculine gender because:
1. In order to get their attention, you have to turn them on ;
2. They have a lot of data but are still clueless ;
3. They are supposed to help you solve problems but half the time
they are the problem ;
4. As soon as you commit to one, you realise that if you had waited
a little longer, you could have had a better model.
5. Big power surges knock them out for the rest of the night.
6. They look attractive, until you take them home.
The group of men on the other hand concluded that computers should be
referred to in the feminine gender because of the following :
1. No one but the Creator understands their internal logic ;
2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers
is incomprehensible to everyone else ;
3. Even your smallest mistakes are stored in long-term memory for
later retrieval ;
4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself
spending half your pay cheque on accessories for it.
5. The message "Bad command or file name" is about as informative as,
"If you don't know why I'm mad at you, then I'm certainly not going to
6. As soon as you have one, a better model is right around the corner.
Next, a quickie from "the list out west":
A man walks into a bar, and orders a drink. A few minutes later, he says
to no one in particular... "All lawyers are arseholes."
The fellow next to him lit into him. "How dare you just stereotypically
categorise all lawyers as arseholes! How have you missed that it's just
not okay to cast aspersions on an entire group of people? You just try
saying something like that about any other group of people and you'd get
slugged. And you should! If you weren't such a jerk, I'd pour my drink
all over you, but you're not worth the cost of my drink."
The fellow was properly abashed, and apologised. "Look, I'm really sorry,
I didn't mean to offend you," he says, "By the way - what kind of lawyer
"Lawyer? I'm no lawyer, you idiot. I'm an arsehole!"
Now a couple from Steve Harding:
Mrs Goldbloom is playing in the shallows of Hamilton Island with her four
year old grandson Aaron on a beautiful sunny day.
Suddenly, the sky darkens and it starts raining. There's a clap of
thunder, a bolt of lightning and a huge wave crashes onto the shore
sweeping young Aaron out to sea.
With dismay, she looks down at the spot where Aaron used to be then looks
up into the heavens and wails, "You call yourself a merciful God? I am an
eighty-year-old woman, I have lived through two world wars, and all sorts
of tragedy and you choose to take the apple of my eye, my only grandson,
Aaron ... You call yourself a merciful God?"
With that there is another clap of thunder, another bolt of lightening
and yet another huge wave which crashes onto the beach depositing young
Aaron unharmed and laughing, playing with his bucket and spade as though
nothing had happened.
Mrs Goldbloom looks down at her grandson, looks up to the heavens, looks
down again at Aaron, then, looking up to the sky says to God, "He had a
... and ...
One bright, beautiful Sunday morning, everyone in the tiny town of
Johnstown got up early and went to the local church. Before the services
started, the townspeople were sitting in their pews and talking about
their lives, their families, etc.
Suddenly, Satan appeared at the front of the church. Everyone started
screaming and running for the front entrance, trampling each other in a
frantic effort to get away from evil incarnate.
Soon everyone was evacuated from the Church, except for one elderly
gentleman who sat calmly in his pew, not moving . . . seemingly oblivious
to the fact that God's ultimate enemy was in his presence.
Now this confused Satan a bit, so he walked up to the man and said,
"Don't you know who I am?"
The man replied, "Yup, sure do."
Satan asked, "Well, aren't you afraid of me?"
"Nope, sure ain't," said the man.
Satan was more than a little perturbed at this and queried, "Why not?"
The man calmly replied, "Been married to your sister for over 48 years!
This next one was forwarded on by Jenny Chong (an ex-colleague of
mine) and also by that other well known purveyor of things
humorous, Kodak Kate D Hawkins:
Why we have AQIS
Apparently this odd little story is completely true. This bloke and his
family were on holiday in the States and went to Mexico for a week. As he
is an avid cactus fan he bought a rare and expensive cactus there, it was
about a metre high and cost about $500 Aus.
He got it home and the customs people were none too impressed so they
said it must stay in quarantine for 3 months, and this ended up costing
another $800 or so.
He finally got his cactus home and planted it in his backyard where over
time it grew to about 2 metres or so in height. One evening after a
beautiful warm spring day he was out watering his garden and thought he
might give the cactus a light spray. This he did and was amazed to see
the plant shiver all over, he gave it another light spray and it shivered
and shook again. All its arms moved. He was puzzled so he rang the
council who put him on to the state gardens.
After a few transfers he got the states foremost cactus expert who asked
him many pointed questions, how tall is it, how tall was it when you got
it, has it grown well, has it flowered, what type of spines etc etc.
Then finally, he asked a most disturbing question: "Is your family in the
The guy answered "Yes", whereupon the cactus expert said "Get them out of
the house NOW, get on to the front nature strip and wait for me - I'll
be there in 15 minutes."
Ten minutes later, 2 fire trucks, two cop cars and an ambulance came
screaming around the corner at the end of the street and stopped out the
front of the house.
A fireman got out and came up to him. "Are you the guy with
the cactus?". "I am", he said.
The fireman turns to the truck and says "C'mon, Dave". A guy jumps out of
the fire truck wearing what looks like a space suit, a breathing cylinder
and mask attached and what looks like a scuba backpack on with a large
"Stay here", says the first fireman, and they both headed for the
This was too much for the bloke so he ran around after them and found the
guy in the space suit was torching his prize cactus with a flamethrower,
he sprayed it up and down with this huge flame which fried everything
within a ten metre radius of the cactus, caught fire to the back fence
and set off the neighbours trees as well. The guy of course was having
kittens. After about ten minutes the flame thrower man stopped, his
cactus stood there smoking and spitting, half the fence was gone, his
garden was entirely rooted.
Just then the cactus expert appeared, and laid a calming hand on the guys
"What the hell is going on?" says the bloke.
"Let me show you", says the cactus man.
He went over to the cactus and picked away at a crusty bit of it. It was
almost entirely hollow and filled with these tiger striped bird eating
tarantula spiders, about the size of two hands spans. The story was that
this type of spider lays eggs in this type of cactus and they hatch and
live in it as they grow to full size.
When they are all grown to full size they release themselves, the cactus
just explodes and about 150 of these plate size tiger striped hairy
spiders are flung from it, dispersing everywhere of course. They had
been just ready to pop (can you imagine??).
The aftermath was that his house and the two houses adjoining on each
side had to be vacated and fumigated and sealed up for two weeks, yellow
police tape was put up outside the whole area and no one was allowed in
for two weeks, then they gave the all clear and they could move back in.
Last up for this week (and still on the November contributions),
another one from Brian McNicol in the U.K. (near Chester). As the
description says: " ... very long, but gets good towards the end.
Don't cheat - read it all the way through."
Well, it certainly is a bit long, but I suspect you'll enjoy it:
AN APPARENTLY TRUE STORY
For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need
to take it out on someone! Well, don't take that bad day out on someone
you know - take it out on someone you DON'T know !!!
Now get this.
I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make.
I found the number and dialled it.
A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Patrick
Hanifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?" Suddenly the phone
was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that
rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. She had
transposed the last two digits incorrectly. After I hung up with Robin,
I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to
call it again. When the same person once more answered, I yelled "You're
a tosser !" and hung up.
Next to his phone number I wrote the word "tosser," and put it in my
desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a
really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and I'd yell, "You're a
tosser !!" It would always cheer me up.
Later in the year the phone company introduced caller ID. This was a
real disappointment for me, I would have to stop calling the tosser.
Then one day I had an idea. I dialled his number, then heard his voice,
"Hello." I made up a name. "Hi! This is the sales office of the
telephone company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with
our caller ID program?"
He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back
and said, "That's because you're a tosser!"
The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how
if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something
about it. You just dial 823-4863 !!
Also, When I was at the shopping centre, an old lady really took her
time pulling out of the parking pace. I didn't think she was ever going
Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out
of the slot.
I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out.
Great, I thought, she's finally leaving. All of a sudden this black
BMW come flying up the parking isle in the wrong direction and pulls
into her space.
I hit the horn and started yelling, "You can't do that. I was here
first!" The guy climbed out of his BMW completely ignoring me. He
walked toward the shopping centre as if he didn't even hear me. I
thought to myself, this guy's a tosser, there sure a lot of tossers in
I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of
his car. I wrote down the number. Then I hunted for another place to
park. A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had
just gotten off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, "You're
tosser!" (it's really easy to call him now since I have his number on
speed dial). I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black BMW
lying on my desk and thought I'd better call this guy, too.
After a couple rings someone answered the phone and said, "Hello." I
said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
"Yes, it is."
"Can you tell me where I can see it?"
"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th street. It's a yellow house and the car's
parked right out front."
I said, "What's your name?"
"I'm Don Hansen."
When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
"I'm home in the evenings."
"Listen Don, can I tell you something?"
"Don - you're a tosser!" And I slammed the phone down.
After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialler. For a
while things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem,
I had two tossers to call.
Then, after several months of calling the tossers and hanging up on
them, it just wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be.
I gave the problem some serious thought and came up with a solution :
First, I had my phone dial tosser #1. A man answered nicely saying,
"Hello." I yelled "You're a tosser!", but I didn't hang up.
The tosser said, "Are you still there?"
I said, "Yeah."
He said, "Stop calling me."
I said, "No."
He said, "What's your name, Pal?"
I said, "Don Hansen."
He said "Where do you live?"
"1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black BMW's parked out
"I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers."
"Yeah, like I'm really scared, tosser!" and I hung up.
Then I called tosser #2.
I said, "Hello, tosser!"
He said, "If I ever find out who you are..."
"I'll kick your arse."
"Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now, tosser!" And I hung
Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at
1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon
as I got home.
Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down W.34th
After that I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch
the whole thing.
Watching two tossers kicking the crap out of each other in front of 6
squad cars and a police helicopter was one of the greatest experiences of
(Name withheld to protect the guilty)
[ End Fri humour ]
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