Friday humour - October 06, 2000

     From Tony at Bluehaze:

        Yo,
     And another Olympic-sized collection this week (including a few visuals
     too, further on), mainly because two of the contributions are quite
     large.  Anyway, to get the ball rolling on this Friday October 6th 2000,
     one from Maria the Harding:
                              ----------------------

The Pentagon recently discovered it had too many generals and offered an
early retirement bonus.  They promised any general who retired straight away
his full annual benefits plus $10,000 for every inch measured in a straight
line between any two points on the general's body, with the general getting
to select any pair of points he wished.

The first man, an Air Force general, accepted.  He asked the pension man to
measure from the top of his head to the tip of his toes.

Six feet.  He walked out with a cheque for $720,000.

The second man, an Army general, asked them to measure from the tip of his
outstretched hands to his toes.

Eight feet!  He walked out with a cheque for $960,000.

When the third general, a grizzled old Marine, was asked where to measure, he
told the pension man: "From the tip of my penis to the bottom of my testicles."

The pension man suggested that perhaps the old Marine general might like to
reconsider, pointing out the nice cheques the previous two generals had
received.  But the Marine insisted, and the pension expert said that would
be fine but that he'd better get the medical officer to do the measuring.

So the medical officer attended and asked the general to drop' em, which he
did.  The medical officer placed the tape on the tip of the general's penis
and began to work back.

"My God, man!" he said.  "Where are your testicles?"

"In Vietnam." replied the general.
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       The second contribution is super short - passed on by an anonymous
       CSIRO Minerals lady just down the hall ...
                              ----------------------

          A real advert in the Canberra Times (Australia) ...

                    WANTED

      A  tall  well-built  woman  with good
      reputation,   who   can  cook   frogs
      legs, who  appreciates a  good  fuc-
      schia garden, classic music and tal-
      king   without  getting   too  serious.
      But please only read lines 1,3 and 5.
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      This next one was originally submitted by David (Telstra) back in
      January 1998.  I suspect it's off a news group such as rec.humor.d
      because it began with these comments:

        "> Some quotes from an article I just ran across -- "Preventing
         > Internet-Based Sexual Harassment in the Workplace," in the L.A.
         > Daily J., Oct. 3, 1997, at p. 5, by Hao-Nhien Vu, available in full
         > at Click here

         It works by empowering the humour-impaired at the expense of free
         speech, at least on the surface, but deeper-down (IMO) it's aimed at
         *more* than sexual speech -- it's aimed at _political_ speech which
         makes fun of the humour-impaired by mimicking their own terminology.

         For example, on another list I'm on (which does have a few female
         subscribers) I got this today."
                              ----------------------

                                PC FABLE FOR 1998

There once was a young person named Little Red Riding Hood who lived on the
edge of a large forest full of endangered owls and rare plants that would
probably provide a cure for cancer if only someone took the time to study them.

Red Riding Hood lived with a nurture giver whom she sometimes referred to as
"mother", although she didn't mean to imply by this term that she would have
thought less of the person if a close biological link did not in fact exist.

Nor did she intend to denigrate the equal value of non-traditional households,
although she was sorry if this was the impression conveyed.

One day her mother asked her to take a basket of organically grown fruit and
mineral water to her grandmother's house.

"But Mother, won't this be stealing work from the unionised people who have
struggled for years to earn the right to carry all packages between various
people in the woods?"

Red Riding Hood's mother assured her that she had called the union boss and
gotten a special compassionate mission exemption form.

"But Mother, aren't you oppressing me by ordering me to do this?"

Red Riding Hood's mother pointed out that it was impossible for women to oppress
each other, since all women were equally oppressed until all women were free.

"But Mother, then shouldn't you have my brother carry the basket, since he's
an oppressor, and should learn what it's like to be oppressed?"

And Red Riding Hood's mother explained that her brother was attending a special
rally for animal rights, and besides, this wasn't stereotypical women's work,
but an empowering deed that would help engender a feeling of community.

"But won't I be oppressing Grandma, by implying that she's sick and hence
unable to independently further her own selfhood?"

But Red Riding Hood's mother explained that her grandmother wasn't actually
sick or incapacitated or mentally handicapped in any way, although that was
not to imply that any of these conditions were inferior to what some people
called "health".

Thus Red Riding Hood felt that she could get behind the idea of delivering
the basket to her grandmother, and so she set off.

Many people believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place,
but Red Riding Hood knew that this was an irrational fear based on cultural
paradigms instilled by a patriarchal society that regarded the natural world
as an exploitable resource, and hence believed that natural predators were
in fact intolerable competitors.

Other people avoided the woods for fear of thieves and deviants, but Red Riding
Hood felt that in a truly classless society all marginalised peoples would be
able to "come out" of the woods and be accepted as valid lifestyle role models.

On her way to Grandma's house, Red Riding Hood passed a woodchopper, and
wandered off the path, in order to examine some flowers.

She was startled to find herself standing before a Wolf, who asked her what
was in her basket.

Red Riding Hood's teacher had warned her never to talk to strangers, but she
was confident in taking control of her own budding sexuality, and chose to
dialogue with the Wolf.

She replied, "I am taking my Grandmother some healthful snacks in a gesture
of solidarity."

The Wolf said, "You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk
through these woods alone."

Red Riding Hood said, "I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but
I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society,
the stress of which has caused you to develop an alternative and yet entirely
valid worldview.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I would prefer to be on my way."

Red Riding Hood returned to the main path, and proceeded towards her
Grandmother's house.

But because his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to
linear, Western-style thought, the Wolf knew of a quicker route to Grandma's
house.

He burst into the house and ate Grandma, a course of action affirmative of
his nature as a predator.

Then, unhampered by rigid, traditionalist gender role notions, he put on
Grandma's nightclothes, crawled under the bedclothes, and awaited developments.

Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said, "Grandma, I have brought you some
cruelty free snacks to salute you in your role of wise and nurturing matriarch."

The Wolf said softly, "Come closer, child, so that I might see you."

Red Riding Hood said, "Goddess!  Grandma, what big eyes you have!"

"You forget that I am optically challenged."

"And Grandma, what an enormous, what a fine nose you have."

"Naturally, I could have had it fixed to help my acting career, but I didn't
give in to such societal pressures, my child."

"And Grandma, what very big, sharp teeth you have!"

The Wolf could not take any more of these specist slurs, and, in a reaction
appropriate for his accustomed milieu, he leaped out of bed, grabbed Little
Red Riding Hood, and opened his jaws so wide that she could see her poor
Grandmother cowering in his belly.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"  Red Riding Hood bravely shouted.
"You must request my permission before proceeding to a new level of intimacy!"

The Wolf was so startled by this statement that he loosened his grasp on her.

At the same time, the Woodchopper burst into the cottage, brandishing an axe.

"Hands off!" cried the Woodchopper.

"And what do you think you're doing?" cried Little Red Riding Hood.  "If I
let you help me now, I would be expressing a lack of confidence in my own
abilities, which would lead to poor self esteem and lower achievement scores
on my TER!"

"Last chance, sister!  Get your hands off that endangered species!  This is
an FBI sting!" screamed the Woodchopper, and when Little Red Riding Hood
nonetheless made a sudden motion, he sliced off her head.

"Thank goodness you got here in time," said the Wolf. "The brat and her
Grandmother lured me in here.  I thought I was a goner."

"No, I think I'm the real victim here," said the Woodchopper.  "I've been
dealing with my anger ever since I saw her picking those protected flowers
earlier.  And now I'm going to have such a trauma.  Do you have any aspirin?"

"Sure," said the Wolf.

"Thanks."

"I feel your pain," said the Wolf, and he patted the Woodchopper on his firm,
well padded back, gave a little belch, and said "Do you have any Maalox?"
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        Okay - we're already half-way through, so onto some visual material
        now.  First couple are MPEGs, so they're up on Steve's server over
        at Digitronics.  In fact, this first one was supplied was Steve:
                              ----------------------

      Ozzie beer commercial: Click here

        And another commercial, forwarded on by Mick Manuele:

      Water Babies: Click here

        Then there's this little clip from Steve [redacted]:

      Unexpected Olympic action: Click here

        And a few pics from the northerly (QCAT) humour list.  Oh - Danger
        Will Robinson - first one's a trifle ... rude :-)

      Beer burp (XXXX): Click here
      If they mated ...  Click here
      Slow warning: Click here
      A dog named Monica: Click here

      Finally, from Lisa Robinson - there's finally solid evidence of animal
      life on the Red Planet.  Yep - this amazing image shows clear evidence
      of a ...

    Mouse on Mars: Click here
  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------


        Back to the ASCII stuff now, and these 3 short-ish ones from the
        old westerly-type humour list:
                              ----------------------

                                FIRST DAY IN SCHOOL

On the first day of third grade, Miss Torch took roll.

"My name is Johnny Fuckhauer," said one boy.

"I won't tolerate such language in my class", Miss Torch fumed. "Tell me your
real name."

"That is my real name," Johnny insisted. "You can ask my brother over in the
fourth grade."

The determined teacher marched across the hall. "Do you have a Fuckhauer in
here?" Miss Torch asked the class.

"Hell, no" one bold lad retorted. "We don't even get a cookie break!"
                                 ---===####===---


A woman gets on a bus holding a baby.  The bus driver says: "That's the
ugliest baby I've ever seen."

Mad as hell, the woman slammed her money into the fare box and took an aisle
seat near the rear of the bus.

The man seated next to her sensed that she was agitated and asked her what
was wrong. "The bus driver insulted me," she fumed.

The man sympathised and said: "Why, he's a public servant and shouldn't say
things to insult passengers."

"You're right," she said. "I think I'll go back up there and give him a piece
of my mind."

"That's a good idea" the man said. "Here, let me hold your monkey."
                                 ---===####===---


A guy walks into the doctor's office and says, "Ddddoc, I've bbeen stttutering
ffor yyyears, and IIII'm tttired of it.  Cccan yyyou hehehehelp me?"

The doc says, "Well, I'll have to examine you to see what's going on."

So he examines him, and says, "Well I think I know what the problem is."

The guy says, "Wwwell wwwhat is it, ddoc?"

Doc says, "Well, it's your penis, it's about a foot long and all the down
pressure is putting strain on your vocal cords.

Guy says, "Wwwat cccan we ddo?"

Doc says, "Well, I can cut it off and transplant a shorter one."

Guy says, "Dddo it!"

The guy has the operation and three weeks later, he comes back into the doctor's
office and says, "Doc, you solved the problem and I don't stutter any more,
but I've only had sex once in the past three weeks.  My wife doesn't like it
any more.  She liked it with my long one.  I don't care if I have to stutter,
I want you to put my long one back on."

The doc says, "Nnnnope.  A ddddeal's a ddddeal!!!"
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       Haven't had any beer jokes for a while.  Steve [redacted] sent this
       one over a few months ago.  Now, I thought we'd already used it at
       some stage but I can't see it in the archives.  So - here we go:
                              ----------------------

      An actual letter sent to Miller Brewing Company and their response:

Miller Brewing Company
Milwaukee, Wisconsin  53201

Dear Sir or Madam,

I have been a drinker of Miller beers for many years (actually, ever since
that other company donated a big chunk of change to Handgun Control Inc. (back
in the mid 80's).  Initially, my beer of choice was Lite, but some time in
mid-1990 while in Honduras I switched to MGD smuggled up from Panama.

Now, for nearly six years, I have been a faithful drinker of MGD.  For these
past years, I have come to expect certain things from Genuine Draft.  I expect
that whenever I see that gold can of MGD, I am about ready to enjoy a great,
smooth brew.  But wait!  Sometime around the first of the year, my beloved
MGD changed colours, so to speak.  That familiar gold can was no longer gold!

Knowing that I am, by nature, somewhat resistant to change, I forced myself to
reserve judgment on the new can design.  Gradually, I grew to appreciate the
new label.  That was until about May of this year.  That was when I discovered
(empirically) that I really didn't like the new design.  Further investigation
of the cause of my distress resulted in the following observations:

1. Your cans are made of aluminum.

2. Aluminum is a great conductor of energy.

3. Your beer is commonly consumed outside, and thus, the container may be
   exposed to sunlight.

4. Sunlight striking the can causes radiant warming of the surface of the can.

5. The resultant heat (energy) is transferred through the aluminum, by
   conduction, to the contents of the can (the beer).

6. Warm beer sucks.

This is a process that can be observed in just about any beer.  However, this
process is significantly accelerated in MGD because you painted the damn can
 ... black!!!

Who was the rocket scientist that designed the new graphic for the can and
implemented the change right before summer?  Granted, this process may not be
real evident up there in Wisconsin, but down here in Oklahoma where the summers
are both sunny and hot, this effect is quite a problem.  There's no telling
what the folks in Texas and Arizona are having to put up with.  Knowing that
you would probably not address this issue unless you had firm evidence of a
problem, I and several other subjects conducted extensive experimentation.
The results of these experiments are listed below.

The experiments were conducted over two days on the deck next to my pool.
The study included seven different types of beer (leftovers from a party the
previous weekend) that were initially chilled to 38 (and then left exposed to
sunlight for different lengths of time.)  These beers were sampled by the test
subjects at different intervals.  The subjects, all normally MGD drinkers,
were asked at each sampling interval their impressions of the different beers.

The length of time between the initial exposure to sunlight and the point where
the subject determined the sample undrinkable (the Suck-point) was determined.
The average ambient temperature for the trials was 95 degrees F.

Beer Type                Average Suck-point (minutes)

Miller Lite (white can)            6.2
Bud (white can)                    5.5
Bud Lite (silver can)              5.2
Ice House (blue and silver can)    4.4
Coors Lite (silver can)            4.1
Miller Genuine Draft (black can)   2.8
Coors (gold can)                   0.1

It was evident that the colour of the can directly correlates to the average
suck point, except for Coors which was pretty much determined to suck at
any point.  It is to be hoped that you will consider re-designing your MGD
cans.  All beer drinkers that are not smart enough to keep their beer in the
shade will thank you.

                                    Sincerely,
                                          Bradley Lee
                                          Beer-drinker

     The Miller response appears below.  They have had a lot of fun with
     this guy's letter.  Enjoy ...

   Dear Bradley Lee,

Thank you for your letter and your concern about the MGD can colour as it
relates to premature warming of the contents.  Like you, we at Miller Beer
take beer drinking very seriously.  To that end, we have taken your letter
and subsequent experiment under serious consideration.

Outlined below are our findings and solution to your problem.  May we add that
we have had similar letters from other loyal beer drinkers, mostly from the
Southern United States.

First, let us congratulate you on your findings.  Our analysis tends to agree
with yours regarding Coors.  It certainly does suck at about any temperature.
Now, it was our intentions when redesigning the MGD can to create better brand
identity and brand loyalty.  Someone in marketing did some kind of research
and determined we needed to redesign the can.  You will be pleased to know,
we have fired that idiot and he is now reeking havoc at a pro-gun control
beer manufacturer.  The design staff working in cahoots with the marketing
idiot was also down-sized.

However, once we realised this mistake, to undo it would have been even a
bigger mistake.  So, we took some other actions.  From our market research,
we found a difference between Northern beer drinker and Southern beer drinkers.

Beer drinkers in the South tend to drink slower than beer drinkers in the North.
We are still researching why that is.  Anyway, at Miller Beer, it was never
our intentions to have someone take more than 2.5 minutes to enjoy one of
our beers.  We pride ourselves in creating fine, smooth, quick drinking beers
and leave the making of sissy, slow sipping beers to that Sam guy in Boston.

However, it is good to know that you feel our Miller Lite can last as long as
6 minutes.  However, may we suggest in the future you try consuming at least
two in that time frame.  From your letter, we had our design staff work 'round
the clock to come up with a solution that would help not just MGD but all our
fine Miller products.  We hope you have recently noticed our solution to your
problem.  We found that the hole in the top of the can was not big enough for
quick consumption.  So, we have now introduced the new "Wide Mouth" cans.
We hope this will solve all your problems.

Might I also suggest that if you want to get the beer out of the can even
faster, you can poke a hole on the side near the bottom, hold your finger over
it, open the can, tip it to your mouth and then pull your finger off the hole.
This is a common way to drink beer at parties and impress your friends.
This technique is known as "shot-gunning".  You should like the name.

Again, thank you for your letter and bringing to our attention that there
might be other beer drinkers taking more that 2.5 minutes to drink our beers.
Let me assure you that I am having our advertising department work on campaign
to solve this problem, too.

                                  Sincerely,

                                     Tom B. Miller
                                    Public Relations
                                   Miller Brewing Co.
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        We're already well over the normal line-count for this week,
        but I can't resist including a couple of short ones from John
        Stevens (these have been waiting in the wings for a while):
                              ----------------------

There was an old priest who got sick of all the people in his parish who kept
confessing adultery.  One Sunday, from the pulpit, he said, "If I hear one
more person confess to adultery, I'll quit!"

Well, everyone liked him, so they came up with a code word.  Someone who had
committed adultery would say they had "fallen."

This seemed to satisfy the old priest and things went well, until the priest
died at a ripe old age.  About a week after the new priest arrived, he visited
the Mayor of the town and seemed very concerned.

The priest said, "You have to do something about the sidewalks in town.
When people come to the confessional, they keep talking about having 'fallen.'"

The Mayor started to laugh, realising that no one had told the new priest
about the code word.

Before the mayor could explain, the priest shook an accusing finger at the
mayor and said, "I don't know what you're laughing about!  Your wife fell
three times this week."
                                 ---===####===---


  ... and ...


My friend likes to read his two young sons fairy tales at night.  Having a
deep-rooted sense of humour, he often ad-libs parts of the stories for fun.
One day his youngest son was sitting in his first grade class as the teacher
was reading the story of the Three Little Pigs.

She came to the part of the story where the first pig was trying to acquire
building materials for his home.

She said "... And so the pig went up to the man with a wheelbarrow full of
straw and said 'Pardon me sir, but might I have some of that straw to build
my house with?'"

Then the teacher asked the class "And what do you think that man said?"

My friend's son raised his hand and said "I know!  I know, Miss!  He said
'Holy S*%t!!  A talking pig!'"
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[ End Friday humour ]




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