Friday humour - March 24, 2000

     From Tony at Bluehaze:

   And yes - there's plenty more visual humour this week if you're into that
   (further down), but first up - we'll start with one that was forwarded on by
   TBFXRD (Nikki A-O) and also by none other than Kate D H (now) at LaTrobe:


His first name was Jesus.
He was bilingual.
He was always being harassed by the authorities.


He called everybody "brother."
He liked Gospel.
He couldn't get a fair trial.


He went into his father's business.
He lived at home until he was 33.
He was sure his Mother was a virgin and his Mother was sure he was God.


He talked with his hands.
He had wine with every meal.
He worked in the building trades.


He never cut his hair.
He walked around barefoot.
He started a new religion.


He never got married.
He was always telling stories.
He loved green pastures.

And now the MOST Compelling evidence:


He managed to feed a crowd at a moments notice when there was no food.

He kept trying to get a message across to a bunch of men who just didn't get it.

Even when he was dead, he still had to get up because there was more work to do.

      Incidentally, TBFXRD (the bitch from XRD) has been asked to refrain from
      using that particular byline in her occasional press releases aimed at
      naughty people around here, so - we need a new nick name for nick.  Any
      suggestions, hmmmm?  The first correct entry will win ... :-)

      In the meantime - here's some more one liners from Steven Wright - enjoy:

My friend Sally is a nudist.  I went to her house.  The closets have no
doors.  The walls are covered with see-through wallpaper.

Sally plays strip poker.  Whenever she loses, she has to put something on.

The sky is falling ... no, I'm tipping over backwards.

Droughts are because god didn't pay his water bill.

Is "tired old cliche" one?

If you had a million Shakespeares, could they write like a monkey?

If you tell a joke in the forest, but nobody laughs, was it a joke?

It only rains straight down.  God doesn't do windows.

When I get bored I go to a Seven-Eleven and ask for a two-by-four and a box of

Yesterday I saw a chicken crossing the road.  I asked it why.  It told me it
was none of my business.

I rented a lottery ticket.  I won a million dollars.  But I had to give it back.

In school, every period ends with a bell.  Every sentence ends with a period.
Every crime ends with a sentence.

I took a course in speed reading.  Then I got Reader's Digest on microfilm.
By the time I got the machine set up, I was done.

Yesterday I found out what doughnuts are for.  You put them on doughbolts.
They hold dough airplanes together.  For kids, they make erector sets out of

I went to a haunted house, looked under the kitchen table, and found spirit gum.

I went to a garage sale.  "How much for the garage?" "It's not for sale."

I went to San Francisco.  I found someone's heart.

I know the guy who writes all those bumper stickers.  He hates New York.

A beautiful woman moved in next door.  So I went over and returned a cup of
sugar.  "You didn't borrow this."  "I will."

I had my coathangers spayed.

I washed a sock.  Then I put it in the dryer.  When I took it out, it was gone.

The Bermuda Triangle got tired of warm weather.  It moved to Alaska.  Now
Santa Claus is missing.

I went to a fancy french restaurant called "Deja Vu."  The headwaiter said,
"Don't I know you?"

Last week I forgot how to ride a bicycle.

I took lessons in bicycle riding.  But I could only afford half of them.  Now
I can ride a unicycle.

I had some eyeglasses.  I was walking down the street when suddenly the
prescription ran out.

I got food poisoning today.  I don't know when I'll use it.

I put my air conditioner in backwards.  It got cold outside.  The weatherman
on TV was confused.  "It was supposed to be hot today."

I was in a job interview and I opened a book and started reading.  Then I said
to the guy, "Let me ask you a question.  If you are in a spaceship that is
travelling at the speed of light and you turn on the headlights, does anything
happen?"  He said, "I don't know."  I said, "I don't want your job."

I was in the first submarine.  Instead of a periscope, they had a kaleidoscope.
"We're surrounded."

I went camping and borrowed a circus tent by mistake.  I didn't notice until I
got it set up.  People complained because they couldn't see the lake.

When I turned two I was really anxious, because I'd doubled my age in a year.
I thought - if this keeps up, by the time I'm six I'll be ninety.

It's a fine night to have an evening.

Even snakes are afraid of snakes.

      This next contribution is a mini-collection in itself - three bits
      of humour posted by Maura McDermott (UK):

A customer walks into a restaurant and notices a large sign on the wall:

When his waitress arrives, he orders "Elephant nuts on rye."

She calmly writes down his order and walks into the kitchen, where all hell
breaks loose!  The restaurant owner comes storming out of the kitchen.

He runs up to the customer's table, slaps five $100 bills down on it and says,
"Okay, okay - you got me this time buddy.  But I want you to know that's the
first time in TEN YEARS we've been out of rye."

    ... and ...


I can't reach my license unless you hold my beer.

Sorry officer, I didn't realise my radar detector wasn't plugged in.

Aren't you the guy from the village people?

Hey, you must have been doing 125 to keep up with me - good job.

I thought you had to be in relatively good physical shape to be a police

I was going to be a cop, but I decided to finish high school instead.

You're not going to check the boot, are you?

Gee, that gut sure doesn't inspire confidence.

Didn't I see you get your butt kicked on Cops?

Wow, you look just like the guy in the picture on my girlfriends night stand.

Is it true that people become cops because they are too dumb to work at

I pay your salary

So uh, you on the take or what?

Gee officer, that's terrific.  The last officer only gave me a warning.

I was trying to keep up with traffic.  Yes, I know there is no other cars
around.  That's how far they are ahead of me.

What do you mean - have I been drinking?  You're the trained specialist.

Well, when I reached down to pick up my bag of crack, my gun fell off of my
lap and got lodged between the brake and the gas pedal, forcing me to speed
out of control.

Hey, is that a 9mm?  Well ... that's nothing compared to this 44 magnum.

Hey, can you give me another one of those full cavity searches?

    ... and ...

          What I Want In a Man (Original List - at age 22)

          1.   Handsome
          2.   Charming
          3.   Financially Successful
          4.   A Caring Listener
          5.   Witty
          6.   In Good Shape
          7.   Dresses with Style
          8.   Appreciates the Finer Things
          9.   Full of Thoughtful Surprises
          10.  An Imaginative, Romantic Lover

          What I Want In A Man (Revised List - at age 32)

          1.   Nice Looking - preferably with hair on his head
          2.   Opens car doors, holds chairs
          3.   Has enough money for a nice dinner at restaurant
          4.   Listens more than he talks
          5.   Laughs at my jokes at appropriate times
          6.   Can carry in all the groceries with ease
          7.   Owns at least one tie
          8.   Appreciates a good home cooked meal
          9.   Remembers Birthdays and Anniversaries
          10.  Seeks romance at least once a week

          What I Want In A Man (Revised List - at age 42)

          1.   Not too ugly - bald head OK
          2.   Doesn't drive off until I'm in the car
          3.   Works steady - splurges on dinner at McDonald's on occasion
          4.   Nods head at appropriate times when I'm talking
          5.   Usually remembers the punch lines of jokes
          6.   Is in good enough shape to rearrange the furniture
          7.   Usually wears shirt that covers stomach
          8.   Knows not to buy champagne with screw top lids
          9.   Remembers to put the toilet seat lid down
          10.  Shaves on most weekends

          What I Want In A Man (Revised List - at age 52)

          1.   Keeps hair in nose and ears trimmed to appropriate length
          2.   Doesn't belch or scratch in public
          3.   Doesn't borrow money too often
          4.   Doesn't nod off to sleep while I'm emoting
          5.   Doesn't re-tell same joke too many times
          6.   Is in good enough shape to get off couch on Weekends
          7.   Usually wears matching socks and fresh underwear
          8.   Appreciates a good TV Dinner
          9.   Remembers your name on occasion
          10.  Shaves on some weekends

          What I Want In A Man (Revised List - at age 62)

          1.   Doesn't scare small children
          2.   Remembers where bathroom is
          3.   Doesn't require much money for upkeep
          4.   Only snores lightly when awake (LOUDLY when asleep)
          5.   Forgets why he's laughing
          6.   Is in good enough shape to stand up by himself
          7.   Usually wears some clothes
          8.   Likes soft foods
          9.   Remembers where he left his teeth
          10.  Remembers when ...

          What I Want In A Man (Revised List - at age 72)

          1.   Breathing

                                SOME PICTURES

    Okay - here's the visual humour for the week.  They are on my server again,
    so some may take up to 30 seconds or longer to load (I've compressed them
    as much as possible though).  First up, a couple from Jonian Nikolov in
    XRD (X-Ray Diffraction):

    Air Safety: Click here
    Men: Click here

    Next, this interesting little collection of body painting from Paul Fazey:

    Body Painting 1: Click here
    Body Painting 2: Click here
    Body Painting 3: Click here
    Body Painting 4: Click here
    Body Painting 5: Click here

    And another collection of varied images which Steve [redacted] has sent
    over during the week:

    Little Johnny: Click here
    Poor Planning: Click here
    Easter Eggs: Click here

       Back to some more ASCII (as in American Standard Code for Information
       Interchange) humour now - this one's from Steve (LMS) Harding:

A bartender is sitting behind the bar on a typical day, when the door bursts
open and in come four exuberant blondes.  They come up to the bar, order five
bottles of champagne and ten glasses, take their order over and sit down at a
large table.  The corks are popped, the glasses are filled, and they begin
toasting and chanting, "51 days, 51 days, 51 days!"

Soon, three more blondes arrive, take up their drinks and the chanting grows.
"51 days, 51 days, 51 days!"  Two more blondes show up and soon their voices
are joined in raising the roof.  "51 days,51 days, 51 days!"

Finally, the tenth blonde comes in with a picture under her arm.  She walks
over to the table, sets the picture in the middle and the table erupts.  Up
jumps the others, they begin dancing around the table, exchanging high-fives,
all the while chanting "51 days, 51days, 51 days!"  The bartender can't contain
his curiosity any longer, so he walks over to the table.

There in the centre is a beautifully framed child's puzzle of the Cookie

When the frenzy dies down a little bit, the bartender asks one of the blondes
"What's all the chanting and celebration about?"

The blonde who brought in the picture pipes in, "Everyone thinks that blondes
are dumb and they make fun of us.  So - we decided to set the record straight.
Ten of us got together, bought that puzzle and put it together ... the side
of the box said 2-4 years, but *we* put it together in 51 days!!"

           And this next little one's from our westerly-type list:

Becky was on her deathbed, with her husband Jake at her side.  He held her cold
hand and tears silently streamed down his face.  Her pale lips moved.

"Jake ..." she said.

"Hush," he quickly interrupted, "don't talk."  But she insisted.

"Jake ..." she said in her tired voice.  "I ... have to talk.  I must confess."

"There is nothing to confess," said the weeping Jake.  "It's all right.
Everything's all right."

"No, no.  I must die in peace.  I must confess, Jake, that ... I have been ...
unfaithful to you."

Jake stroked her hand.  "Now, Becky, don't be concerned.  I know all about it.
Why else would I poison you?"

        Here's a short one from David (Fifi) McCallum:

A woman goes into an ice cream parlor.  She walks up to the man at the counter
and says, "I'd like some chocolate ice cream, please."

"I'm sorry, madam," says the man, "but I'm afraid we're out of chocolate."

"Oh," says the woman.  "In that case I'll have some chocolate."

So the man says, "No, no, madam.  You don't understand.  We have run out of

"Oh," replies the woman.  "Then I'll just have chocolate."

The man behind the counter looks at the lady and says, "OK, spell 'van,' as in

So, the woman spells "V-A-N."

"All right," says the ice cream man, "spell 'straw,' as in 'strawberry.'"

The woman says, "OK.  S-T-R-A-W."

"Good!" says the man.  "Now spell 'fuck,' as in 'chocolate.'"

The woman looks at the man and says, "But there's no 'fuck' in 'chocolate.'"

The man shouts, "That's what I've been trying to tell you, you dumb bitch!"

      And to finish off for this week - one more from Steve Harding.
      It's a bit "in", being computer-language-centric (which is why I've left
      it until last) but it's clever - so if you are into computer languages
      and operating systems (or you ever were), you should appreciate it:


The proliferation of modern programming languages (all of which seem to have
stolen countless features from one another) sometimes makes it difficult to
remember what language you're currently using.  This handy reference is offered
as a public service to help programmers who find themselves in such a dilemma.

               PROGRAMMING TASK: Shoot yourself in the foot.

C: You shoot yourself in the foot.

C++: You accidentally create a dozen instances of yourself and shoot them all
in the foot.  Providing emergency medical assistance is impossible since you
can't tell which are bitwise copies and which are just pointing at others and
saying, "That's me, over there."

FORTRAN: You shoot yourself in each toe, iteratively, until you run out of
toes, then you read in the next foot and repeat.  If you run out of bullets,
you continue with the attempts to shoot yourself anyways because you have no
exception-handling capability.

Pascal: The compiler won't let you shoot yourself in the foot.

Ada: After correctly packing your foot, you attempt to concurrently load the
gun, pull the trigger, scream, and shoot yourself in the foot.  When you try,
however, you discover you can't because your foot is of the wrong type.

COBOL: Using a COLT 45 HANDGUN, AIM gun at LEG.FOOT, THEN place
HOLSTER.  CHECK whether shoelace needs to be re-tied.

LISP: You shoot yourself in the appendage which holds the gun with which you
shoot yourself in the appendage which holds the gun with which you shoot
yourself in the appendage which holds the gun with which you shoot yourself in
the appendage which holds the gun with which you shoot yourself in the
appendage which holds the gun with which you shoot yourself in the appendage
which holds ...

FORTH: Foot in yourself shoot.

Prolog: You tell your program that you want to be shot in the foot.  The
program figures out how to do it, but the syntax doesn't permit it to explain
it to you.

BASIC: Shoot yourself in the foot with a water pistol.  On large systems,
continue until entire lower body is waterlogged.

Visual Basic: You'll really only appear to have shot yourself in the foot, but
you'll have had so much fun doing it that you won't care.

HyperTalk: Put the first bullet of gun into foot left of leg of you.  Answer
the result.

Motif: You spend days writing a UIL description of your foot, the bullet, its
trajectory, and the intricate scrollwork on the ivory handles of the gun.  When
you finally get around to pulling the trigger, the gun jams.

APL: You shoot yourself in the foot, then spend all day figuring out how to do
it in fewer characters.

SNOBOL: If you succeed, shoot yourself in the left foot.  If you fail, shoot
yourself in the right foot.

% ls
foot.c foot.h foot.o toe.c toe.o
% rm * .o
rm:.o no such file or directory
% ls

370 JCL: You send your foot down to MIS and include a 400-page document
explaining exactly how you want it to be shot.  Three years later, your foot
comes back deep-fried.

Paradox: Not only can you shoot yourself in the foot, your users can, too.

Access: You try to point the gun at your foot, but it shoots holes in all your
Borland distribution diskettes instead.

Revelation: You're sure you're going to be able to shoot yourself in the foot,
just as soon as you figure out what all these nifty little bullet-thingies are

Assembler: You try to shoot yourself in the foot, only to discover you must
first invent the gun, the bullet, the trigger, and your foot.

Modula 2: After realising that you can't actually accomplish anything in this
language, you shoot yourself in the head.
[ End Friday humour ]

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