Friday humour - December 22, 2000

From Tony at Bluehaze: Yo, Okay, and it's onto the final Friday humour for the year 2000 and the "real" millennium. I'm also going to attempt to make it the last one for all time - ie: I don't think I'll be continuing it next year. It's certainly been a satisfying experience, most especially as a means of "maintaining links" with ex-colleagues who have left CSIRO at various times over the past 5 years or so. Too many good people were prematurely pushed out by the merge that was forced upon us from above, and even a silly mail list like this does help people to stay in touch a bit. But steadily increasing demands on my time this year have been making the regular weekly posting more difficult as each week has gone by, and I really do need to call a halt now. -------- Oh - one other thing: somehow or other some spammer got wind of the list name and sent a piece of junk mail last week (and thanks to Jenny over at NEC for pointing this out to me). So I've quickly re-named the list this week, so anything they send to the old name will just bounce. Anyway, enough housekeeping! It's almost Christmas, so onto the first contribution for this week - from one David (Fifi) McCallum: ------------------ A PSYCHIATRIST'S CHRISTMAS CAROLS SCHIZOPHRENIA: Do you Hear What I hear? MULTIPLE PERSONALITY DISORDER: We Three Kings Disoriented Are. DEMENTIA: I Think I'll Be Home for Christmas. NARCISSISTIC: Hark the Herald Angels Sing About Me. MANIC: Deck the Hall and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Busses and Trucks and Trees and Fire Hydrants and ... PARANOID: Santa Claus is Coming to Get Me. PERSONALITY DISORDER: You Better Watch Our, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll tell you why. PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE PERSONALITY: On the First Day of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me (and then took it all away). BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER: Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire. OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE DISORDER: Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- This next one was forwarded on by Steve Kerassitis back in October: ------------------ There was this little guy sitting inside a bar, just looking at his drink. He didn't move for a half-an-hour. Then, this big trouble-making truck driver stepped up right next to him, took the drink from the guy, and just drank it all down. The poor man started crying. The truckie turned and said: "Aww, come on man, I was just joking. Here, I'll buy you another drink. I just can't stand to see a man crying." "No no, it's not that. Today is the worst day of my life. First, I overslept and was late for an important meeting. My boss became outraged and then fired me. When I left the building to my car, I found out that it was stolen. The police said they could do nothing. So I had to get a cab home, except after I paid the cab driver and the cab had gone, I found that I left my wallet in the cab. Then I got inside only to find my wife in bed with the gardener. I left home depressed and came to this bar. And NOW ... just when I was finally getting the courage to put an end to it all, YOU had to show up and drink the poison." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now to a short one from the other Steve (Harding) - also from October: ------------------ One afternoon a little girl returned from school, and announced that her friend had told her where babies come from. Amused, her mother replied: "Really, sweetie, why don't you tell me all about it?" The little girl explained, "Well ... okay ... the Mummy and Daddy take off all of their clothes, and the Daddy's thing sort of stands up, and then Mummy puts it in her mouth, and then it sort of explodes, and that's how you get babies." Her Mum shook her head, leaned over to meet her eye to eye and said, "Oh, honey, that's sweet, but that's not how you get babies. That's how you get jewellery." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now for a longer one - just forwarded on by David over at Telstra: ------------------ TERROR ON FLIGHT 611 - THERE'S BABY ON BOARD by Dave Barry Recently, my wife and I took our eight-month-old daughter on a trip involving five plane flights in one week. Many people would be reluctant to travel with a baby that small, but we had a compelling reason: We have Fig Newtons for brains. An intelligent person, or even a reasonably bright fungus, would know that two people cannot possibly carry both a baby and all the supplies the baby needs, including stroller, car seat, clothes, nappies, industrial-sized bale of wipes, stuffed bear, stuffed tiger, stuffed frog, stuffed paramecium, etc. The total weight of all these supplies can be hundreds of times the weight of the actual baby. This is why your famous explorers rarely travelled with babies. If Magellan had tried to sail around the world with a baby on board, his ship would have sunk at the dock from the weight of the formula alone. We were one of those wretched travelling families you see getting on planes - the kind where you don't actually see the people, just this mound of baby equipment shuffling slowly down the aisle toward you. This sight is always hugely popular with the other passengers, some of whom will yank open the emergency exits and dive out of the plane. Because they know what babies do on planes: They stand on their parents' laps and stick their heads up over the seats, so they can get maximum range when they shriek. On a baby-intensive airplane, you see shrieking baby heads constantly popping up all over, like prairie dogs from hell. As a parent in this situation, your fervent hope is that the other babies on the plane will shriek louder than yours, thereby diverting passenger hatred away from you. It would not surprise me to learn that some parents creep under the seats and pinch other people's babies to set them off. I myself would never do such a thing. I carry a slingshot. The trick for keeping your baby from crying on the plane is to come up with a new activity each time the baby gets bored. A standard baby gets bored every 15 seconds, so on a four-hour flight, you, as a parent, need to come up with 960 different activities. By the third hour of the flight, your standards are pretty low. Baby wants to play in the airplane toilet? Sure! Baby wants to crawl into the cockpit and bite the navigator on the ankle? Whatever baby wants! Here's what a stupid parent I am: On our first flight, I brought two newspapers on board. I did not read one word of either one. What I read was a book called Farm Faces, which is made entirely of cloth. There's a cow on the cover, and each page has a new animal. Here's the entire text: 'Chick,' 'Lamb,' 'Pig,' 'Duck,' 'Horse,' 'Worm.'' I read this book to my daughter maybe 40 times, using a dramatic and excited voice to show her how fascinating it was. I mean, talk about a surprise plot twist! I NEVER would have guessed worm! I also tried to interest Sophie in the in-flight movie, which was The Perfect Storm, in which George Clooney goes to sea in a fishing boat and is killed by special effects. Sophie did not care for it. I could see her point: I thought Farm Faces was less formulaic. It goes without saying that your baby will poop massively on the plane. This must have something to do with atmospheric pressure, because it never fails. Each year, more baby poop is produced on airplanes than in all of Portugal. Fortunately, most planes have a little changing shelf in the bathroom, which is the perfect size for a baby, provided that it is a baby gerbil. For human babies, you have to use the seat, which then must be burned when the plane lands. The only really practical place to change a baby on an airplane would be on the wing, but of course you can't take the baby out there. The other passengers would never let you back inside. You know what we need? We need an airline just for people with babies (it could be called 'Shrieking Prairie Dogs From Hell Airlines'). The planes would not have seats: Everyone would squat on the floor. The preflight safety lecture would consist of a demonstration of how to get a Lego out of a child's mouth. The inflight meal would be Cheerios eaten off the floor. If the noise reached a certain decibel level, plastic tubes would automatically pop out of the ceiling to dispense liquid horse tranquillser to the parents. The inflight movie would be Farm Faces, starring George Clooney as: Worm. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Okay - onto some pics. All from Bluehaze this week, so (as ever) they may take 10-15 seconds to load down. First two from Steve Kerassitis: No parking: Click here Frankston City Council: Click here And some snowman cartoons as passed on by the QCAT guys: Snowman 1: Click here Snowman 2: Click here Snowman 3: Click here Snowman 4: Click here Snowman 5: Click here Meltdown: Click here Arrh, what the heck - let's dig back and give you a few more classics from Steve Kerassitis to finish off the images department. Steve passed these on to us a few months ago: Pussy eyes: Click here No windows: Click here Watch out: Click here That tickles: Click here Austin: Click here Ahhh, that's better: Click here Hello! I'm Mr Zeb: Click here ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now back to the character-level stuff, and it's another one from Steve Kerassitis ... all about affairs: ------------------ AFFAIR NUMBER ONE There was a middle-aged couple who had two stunningly beautiful blonde teen-age daughters. They decided to try one last time for the son they always wanted. After months of trying, the wife became pregnant and sure enough, nine months later delivered a healthy baby boy. The joyful father rushed to the nursery to see his new son. He took one look and was horrified to see the ugliest child he had ever seen. He went to his wife and said that there was no way that he could be the father of that child. "Look at the two beautiful daughters I fathered." Then he gave her a stern look and asked, "Have you been fooling around on me?" The wife just smiled sweetly and said, "Not this time...." AFFAIR NUMBER TWO A mortician was working late one night. It was his job to examine the dead bodies before they were sent off to be buried or cremated. As he examined the body of Mr. Schwartz, who was about to be cremated, he made an amazing discovery: Schwartz had the longest penis he had ever seen! "I'm sorry, Mr. Schwartz," said the mortician, "But I can't send you off to be cremated with a tremendously huge penis like this. It has to be saved for posterity." And with that the coroner used his tools to remove the dead man's penis. He stuffed his prize into a briefcase and took it home. The first person he showed was his wife. "I have something to show you that you won't believe," he said, and opened his briefcase. "Oh my god!" she screamed, "Schwartz is dead!" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Next - a couple of quickies from Maria the Harding: ------------------ Instructor Nursing School. A woman enrolled in nursing school was attending an anatomy class. The subject of the day was involuntary muscles. The instructor, hoping to perk up the students a bit, asked a woman, "Do you know what your arse-hole does when you're having an orgasm?" "Sure" she said. "He's at home, taking care of the kids." ... and ... A woman walked up to a little old man rocking in a chair on his porch. "I couldn't help noticing how happy you look," she said. "What's your secret for a long happy life?" "I smoke three packs of cigarettes a day," he said. "I also do a gram of cocaine a day, a case of whisky a week, eat junk food and never exercise." "That's amazing," said the woman, "how old are you?" "Twenty-six," he said. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nikki Scarlett (our resident CSIRO bass player) just forwarded on some "muzo" humour. So all you muzo types out there, get into these (and gidday to Harrers and to Thermo Bob): ------------------ Q: What do you call a beautiful woman on a trombonist's arm? A: A tattoo. Q: What do you call a drummer in a three-piece suit? A: "The Defendant" Q: What's the similarity between a drummer and a philosopher? A: They both perceive time as an abstract concept. Q: Why do some people have an instant aversion to banjo players? A: It saves time in the long run. Q: What's the difference between a jet airplane and a trumpet? A: About three decibels. Q: What's the latest crime wave in New York City? A: Drive-by trombone solos. Q: What is another term for trombone? A: A wind driven, manually operated, pitch approximator. Q: What is the dynamic range of a bass trombone? A: On or off. Q: Why do people play trombone? A: Because they can't move their fingers and read music at the same time. Q: What do a viola and a lawsuit have in common? A: Everyone is relieved when the case is closed. Q: Why are harps like elderly parents? A: Both are unforgiving and hard to get into and out of cars. Q: What's the difference between an oboe and a bassoon? A: You can hit a baseball further with a bassoon. Q: How are a banjo player and a blind javelin thrower alike? A: Both command immediate attention and alarm, and force everyone to move out of range. Q: What's the best recording of the Walton Violin Concerto? A: "Music Minus One" Tuba Player: "Did you hear my last recital?" Friend: "I hope so." Q: What's the difference between alto clef and Greek? A: Some conductors actually read Greek. Musica ficta: When you lose your place and have to bluff until you find it again. Vibrato: Used by singers to hide the fact that they are on the wrong pitch. # # # Female vocalist asks her keyboard player, "I'd like to do 'My Funny Valentine' tonight, but can you think of a way to 'jazz' it up?" Keyboard player replies, "Sure, we can do the first chorus in G minor, then modulate to G#minor for the second chorus in 5/4 time, then modulate to A minor in 3/4 time for the bridge, then cut off the last 3 bars!" She claims, "that might be too complicated to do without a rehearsal!" Keyboard player responds, "Well, that's how you did it last night!" # # # A reason to practice The following advice, given by a teacher to his student combo, was overheard at a summer jazz camp. To protect the guilty, the teacher will remain anonymous. Nonetheless, it remains one of the Great, Ultimate Truisms of jazz (let alone any style of music). It's verisimilitude is timeless: "Man, if you play like that, you are NEVER gonna get laid." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now to some material that floated past on our ol' Westerly list recently (well, this first one was recent): ------------------ A fellow bought a new Mercedes and was out on the interstate for a nice evening drive. The top was down, the breeze was blowing through his hair and he decided to open her up. As the needle jumped up to 80mph he suddenly saw a flashing red and blue light behind him. "There ain't no way they can catch a Mercedes," he thought to himself and opened her up further. The needle hit 90, 100 110 and finally 120 with the lights still behind him. "What in hell am I doing?" he thought and pulled over. The cop came up to him, took his licence without a word and examined it and the car. "I've had a tough shift and this is my last pull over. I don't feel like more paperwork, so if you can give me an excuse for that driving that I haven't heard before, you can go!" "Last week my wife ran off with a cop," the man said, "and I was afraid you were trying to give her back!" "Have a nice night", said the officer. ----====#=#=#=#====---- ... and ... (this one floated through back in July): A guy has been asking the prettiest girl in town for a date and finally she agrees to go out with him. He takes her to a nice restaurant, buys her a fancy dinner with expensive wine and on the way home he pulls over to the side of the road in a secluded spot. They start necking and he's getting pretty randy. He starts to reach under her skirt and she stops him, saying she's a virgin and wants to stay that way. "Well ... okay," he says, "then how about a blow job?" "EEEEyyyyyyeeeewwwwwww!" she screams. "I'm not putting that thing in my mouth!" He says, "Well then, how about a hand job?" "I've never done that," she says. "What do I have to do?" "Well," he answers, "remember when you were a kid and you used to shake up a Coke bottle and spray your brother with it?" She nods. "Well, it's just like that." So he pulls it out and she grabs hold of it and starts shaking it. A few seconds later, his head flops back on the headrest, his eyes close, snot starts to run out of his nose, wax blows out of his ears and he screams out in pain. "What's wrong?!" she cries out. "TAKE YOUR BLOODY THUMB OFF OF THE END!!" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- And to finish off for the week, the year, the millennium, and probably for all time ... a couple more from Steve Kerassitis: ------------------ Two guys in a bar - one says "Did your hear the news - Mike is dead!" "Whooo - what the hell happened to him?" "Well, he was on his way over to my house the other day and when he arrived outside the house, he didn't brake properly and boom - he hit the pavement and the car flips up and he crashed through the sunroof. Went flying through the air and smashed through my upstairs bedroom window." "What a horrible way to die!" "No no, he survived that, that didn't kill him at all. So, he's landed in my upstairs bedroom and he's all covered in broken glass on the floor. Then, he spots the big old antique wardrobe we have in the room and reaches up for the handle to try to pull himself up. He's just dragging himself up when bang, this massive wardrobe comes crashing down on top of him, crushing him and breaking most of his bones." "Oh, what a way to go ... that's terrible!" "No no, that didn't kill him - he survived that. He managed to get the wardrobe off him and crawls out onto the landing, then he tries to pull himself up on the banister - but under his weight, the banister breaks and he goes falling down on to the first floor. In mid air, all the broken banister poles spin and fall on him, pinning him to the floor, sticking right through him." "Now that is the most unfortunate way to go!" "No no, that didn't kill him, he even survived that. So he's on the downstairs landing, just beside the kitchen. He crawls in to the kitchen, tries to pull himself up on the cooker, but reached for a big pot of boiling hot water, and ... whoosh, the whole thing came down on him and burned most of his skin off." "Man, what a way to go!" "No no, he survived that, he survived that! He's lying on the ground, covered in boiling water and he spots the phone and tries to pull himself up to call for help, but instead he grabs the light switch and pulls the whole thing off the wall, and the water and electricity didn't mix and so he got electrocuted - wallop - 10,000 volts through him." "Now that is one AWFUL way to go!" "No no, he survived that, he ..." "Hold on now, just how the hell DID he die?" "I shot him!" "You shot him? What the hell did you shoot him for?" "He was wrecking my bloody house." ----====#=#=#=#====---- ... and ... The year is 2222 and Mike and Maureen land on Mars after accumulating enough frequent flier points. They meet a Martian couple and are talking about all sorts of things. Mike asks if Mars has a stock market, if they have laptop computers, how they make money, etc. Finally, Maureen bring up the subject of sex. "Just how do you guys do it?" asks Maureen. "Pretty much the way you do," responds the Martian. Discussion ensues, and finally the couples decide to swap partners for the night and experience one another. Maureen and the male Martian go off to a bedroom where the Martian strips. He's got only a teeny, weeny member - about half an inch long and just a quarter inch thick. "I don't think this is going to work," says Maureen. "Why?" he asks, "What's the matter?" "Well," she replies, "It's just not long enough to go inside me!" "No problem," he says, and proceeds to slap his forehead with his palm. With each slap of his forehead, his member grows until it's quite impressively long. "Well now," she says, "That is quite impressive, but it's still pretty narrow." "That's no problem either," he says, and starts pulling his ears. With each pull, his member grows wider and wider until the entire measurement is extremely exciting to the woman. "Oh, wow!" she exclaims, as they fell into bed and made mad, passionate love. The next day the couples rejoin their normal partners and go their separate ways. As they walk along, Mike asks "Well, was it any good?" "Well, I hate to say it," says Maureen, "but it was pretty wonderful. How about you?" "Arrgghh - it was horrible," he replies, "I just got a headache. All she kept doing the whole time was slapping my forehead and pulling my ears." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [ End Friday humour ]
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