Friday humour - December 13, 2002

     From Tony at Bluehaze:

     Well, we're back from the Queensland IT conference (as Davo mentioned
     last week).  Not quite sure that I'm really that enamoured of their
     weather at this time of year, though.  It's real "big ceiling fan" stuff
     at night ... as in 'not only hot but also quite humid'.  The "schoolies"
     were still out in force too - very busy in the centre of Surfers as
     Russell, Bruce and I found out when we wandered into town one night
     for a few sherbets.  Then it was back down to Melbourne last Friday,
     and we've all been shivering ever since!

     Anyway, this weeks contributions were passed on by a cast of thousands.
     We have such luminaries as the Pres (Biggus), John at CUB, Maria the
     Harding, Marshall (holler) Lanyon, Ron, Darnell (Solucient), Trevor
     (Johannesburg - except he's in Cape Town this week), Brett, Margo,
     Maddus Mickus (UK), QCAT, James, Lan Vu (and even yours truly).

     First up - a couple from Biggus McCallum:

                              A LETTER TO GOD

There was this fellow who worked for Australia Post whose job it was to
process all mail that had illegible addresses.  One day a letter came to
his desk, addressed in a shaky handwriting to God.  He thought, "Oh boy,
better open this one and see what it's all about."

So he opened it and read, "Dear God, I am an 83 year old widow living on a
very small pension.  Yesterday someone stole my purse.  It had 100 dollars
in it which was all the money I had until my next pension payment.  Next Sunday
is Easter, and I had invited two of my friends over for dinner.  Without that
money, I have nothing to buy food with.  I have no family to turn to, and you
are my only hope.  Can you please help me?"

The postal worker was touched, and went around showing the letter to all the
others.  Each of them dug into his wallet and came up with a few dollars.  By
the time he made the rounds, he had collected 96 dollars, which they put into
an envelope and sent over to her.  The rest of the day, all the workers felt a
warm glow thinking of the nice thing they had done.

Easter came and went, and a few days later came another letter from the old
lady to God.  All the workers gathered around while the letter was opened.

It read, "Dear God, How can I ever thank you enough for what you did for me?
Because of your generosity, I was able to fix a lovely dinner for my friends.
We had a very nice day, and I told my friends of your wonderful gift."

"By the way, there was 4 dollars missing.  I think it must have been those
thieving pricks at Australia Post."


                               THE BACON TREE

Back in the cowboy days, a westbound wagon train was lost and low on food.  No
other people had been seen for days.

Unexpectedly, they saw an old Jew sitting beneath a tree.  The leader rushed up
to him and said, "We're lost.  Is there some place ahead where we can get food?"

"Vell," the old Jew said, "I vould definitely NOT go up dat hill und down
other side.  Somevun told me you'll run into a big bacon tree."

"A bacon tree?" asked the wagon train leader.

"Yah, yah, ah bacon tree.  Trust me.  For nuttin vud I lie."

The leader goes back and tells his people that, if nothing else, they might
be able to find food on the other side of the next ridge.

"So why did he say not to go there?" some pioneers asked.

"Oh, you know those Jewish folk - they don't eat bacon."

So the wagon train goes up the hill and down the other side.  Suddenly, Indians
attack and massacre everyone except the leader.  He manages to escape back to
the old Jew, who's enjoying a "glassel tea."

The near-dead man starts shouting. "You fool!  You sent us to our deaths!  We
followed your instructions, but there was no bacon tree.  Just hundreds of
Indians.  They killed everyone but me."

The old Jew holds up his hand and says "Oy, vait a minute."  He gets out an
English-Yiddish dictionary, and begins thumbing through it.

"Gevalt, I made myself ah big mistake.  It vuz not a bacon tree.  It vuz a
ham bush!"

         Now to a couple of Christmassy ones from John over at CUB:


1. I prefer breasts to legs

2. Tying the legs together keeps the inside moist.

3. Smother the butter all over the breasts!

4. If I don't undo my trousers, I'll burst!

5. I've never seen a better spread!

6. I'm in the mood for a little dark meat.

7. Are you ready for seconds yet?

8. It's a little dry, do you still want to eat it?

9. Just wait your turn, you'll get some!

10. Don't play with your meat.

11. Stuff it up between the legs as far as it will go.

12. Do you think you'll be able to handle all these people at once?

13. I didn't expect everyone to come at the same time!

14. You still have a little bit on your chin.

15. How long will it take after you put it in?

16. You'll know it's ready when it pops up.

17. Just pull the end and wait for the bang.

18. That's the biggest bird I've ever had!

19. I'm so full; I've been gobbling nuts all morning

20. Wow, I didn't think I could handle all that and still want more!


    [ NB: We originally ran this sonnet in 1999 (which makes it a repeat),
      but it's worth a re-run.  Maybe just call this a "best of ..." ]

           Twas the night before Christmas
              and all through the house
                everyone felt shitty
                  even the mouse.

                Mum at the whorehouse,
                and dad smoking grass.
                I'd just settled down
               for a nice piece of arse.

                When out on the lawn
                I heard such a clatter
                I sprung from my piece
               to see what's the matter.

                Then out on the lawn
                I saw a big dick
                I knew in a moment
               it must be Saint Nick.

               He came down the chimney
                like a bat out of hell
                I knew in a moment
                the old fucker fell.

              He filled all our stockings
                with pretzels and beer,
                and a big rubber dick
               for my brother the queer.

                He rose up the chimney
                with a thunderous fart
                  the son of a bitch
                blew the chimney apart.

                He swore and he cursed
                as he rode out of sight
                  so piss on you all
                and have a good night.


      Marshall Lanyon (of Microsoft satellite pics fame) just forwarded
      on this link with the comment "can you believe this" ...

Geography knowledge: Click here

         El Capitain Ron passed on this Car Manual translation for the
         benefit of those of us who need to do the odd vehicle repair:


Haynes:  Rotate anticlockwise.
Translation:  Clamp with vicegrips, then beat repeatedly with a hammer

Haynes:  This is a snug fit.
Translation:  You will skin your knuckles!

Haynes:  This is a tight fit.
Translation:  Not a hope in Hell, matey!

Haynes:  As described in Chapter 7...
Translation: That'll teach you not to read through before you start, now you
are looking at scary photos of the inside of a gearbox.

Haynes:  Pry...
Translation:  Hammer a screwdriver into...

Haynes:  Undo...
Translation:  Try lots of heat, a tin of WD40 (catering size), or a ten
pound hammer.

Haynes:  Retain tiny spring...
Translation:  "Jeez!  What was that, it nearly had my eye out!"

Haynes:  Press and rotate to remove bulb...
Translation: OK - that's the glass bit off, now fetch some good pliers to
dig out that pesky bayonet part.

Haynes:  Lightly...
Translation: Start off lightly and build up till the veins on your forehead
are throbbing, then re-check the manual because what you are doing now cannot
be defined as 'lightly'.

Haynes:  Weekly checks...
Translation:  If it ain't broke, don't fix it!

Haynes:  Routine maintenance...
Translation:  If it ain't broke... it's about to be!

Haynes:  One spanner rating.
Translation: Your Mum could do this, so how did you manage to botch it up?

Haynes:  Two spanner rating.
Translation: Now you may think that you can do this because two is a low,
tiny, little number... but you also thought the wiring diagram was a map of
the Tokyo underground (in fact that would have been more use to you).

Haynes:  Three spanner rating.
Translation: But VW's are easy to maintain right, right?  So you think three
spanners has got to be like a 'regular car' two spanner job.

Haynes:  Four spanner rating.
Translation: You are seriously considering this aren't you, you amateur!

Haynes:  Five spanner rating.
Translation: OK - but don't expect us to ride in it afterwards!!!

Haynes:  If not, you can fabricate your own special tool like this...
Translation:  Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!

Haynes:  Compress...
Translation: Squeeze with all your might, jump up and down on, swear at,
throw at the garage wall, then search in the dark corner of the garage for
it whilst muttering "bugger" repeatedly under your breath.

Haynes:  Inspect...
Translation: Squint at really hard and pretend you know what you are looking
at, then declare in a loud knowing voice to your wife "Yep, as I thought,
it's going to need a new one"!

Haynes:  Carefully...
Translation:  You are about to cut yourself!

Haynes:  Retaining nut...
Translation:  Yes, that's it, that big spherical blob of rust.

Haynes:  Adjust gap to specified distance.
Translation: Ha-ha - got you again - you can search this book forever and
you won't find it!

Haynes:  Get an assistant...
Translation: Prepare to humiliate yourself in front of someone you know.

Haynes:  Turning the engine will be easier with the spark plugs removed.
Translation: However, starting the engine afterwards will be much harder.
Once that sinking pit of your stomach feeling has subsided, you can start to
feel deeply ashamed as you gingerly refit the spark plugs.

Haynes:  Refitting is the reverse sequence to removal.
Translation:  But you swear in different places.

Haynes:  Pry away plastic locating pegs ...
Translation:  Snap off ...

Haynes:  Using a suitable drift ...
Translation:  The biggest nail in your tool box isn't a suitable drift!

Haynes:  Everyday toolkit
Translation:  Ensure you have an AAA Card & Mobile Phone

Haynes:  Apply moderate heat...
Translation: Placing your mouth near it and huffing isn't moderate heat.

Haynes:  The bearing inner races can be released by applying light leverage.
Translation: There is absolutely no way those inner races will budge without
the application of a puller (which you haven't got) and a lot of swearing.

Haynes:  Index
Translation: List of all the things in the book except the thing you want to do!

For Added Haynes Fun: Go to the first section, Safety First, and read
the bit about Hydrofluoric Acid - do you really want the advice of a book
that uses this form of understatement???!!?

Now look at the lovely colour section on body repairs - as you look at these
two pages say to yourself over and over until it sinks in, "Mine will never
look like that..."

Flick to the end and look at the colour plug pictures, how do these compare
to the plugs in your VW?  If you cannot locate the plugs in your VW see the
last translation on the list!

  Haynes Manuals are (C)opyright of a very disturbed sadist

     Onto the pics now - beginning with a couple passed on by Margot Clarke:

To catch a thief: Click here
BAT Christmas party: Click here

     Next two were passed on by Brett V:

NBC pictures of the year: Click here
Okay - fetch, boy - c'mon ...  Click here

     And one from an occasional contributor - Lan Vu.  This is a genuine
     suggestion on how to cook your Christmas turkey.  Carefully cut some
     aluminium foil and lay it around your turkey before placing in the
     oven, then watch the family's reaction as you present your creation:

Turkey tan: Click here

     According to Maddus Mickus from East Cheam, this is what you get
     if you soak Mexican jumping beans in Viagra:

Jumping Bean: Click here

     Then there was this suggestion from QCAT up North ...

Drinking fountain: Click here

     James was looking at m-bikes and he came across this one ...

Plant your foot:  Click here

     Darnell Brown over at Solucient thought this might amuse you ...

Ga ga ... ooops:  Click here

     And lastly, some more Don Martin cartoons from a more innocent era.
     As before, apologies for the poor conversion quality (BTW, if anyone
     knows of (or can pass on) some *good quality* scans of Don Martin's
     Mad Magazine output, please let me know ...)

The Princess #1: Click here
The Princess #2: Click here
The Princess #3: Click here
The Princess #4: Click here
Execution: Click here

          Back to textual material now with a quickie from Maria H:


Q: Who has the right of way when four cars approach a four-way stop at the
   same time?

A: The pick up truck with the gun rack and the bumper sticker saying:
   "Guns don't kill people.  I do."

             This one is from Trevor over in Johannesburg:

                               BABY PLANES

A mother and her young son were flying British Airways from London to
Sydney.  The son, who had been looking out the window, turned to his mother
and said, "Why don't big planes have baby planes?"  The mother, who couldn't
think of an answer, told her son to ask the flight attendant.

So, the little boy asked the flight attendant, "If big dogs have baby dogs
and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?"

The flight attendant asked, "Did your mother tell you to ask me that?"

The boy said that she had.

With a clever grin, the flight attendant said, "Tell your mother it's
because British Airways always pulls out on time."

          And finally for the week - a couple more from CUB John:

                         NON-SOLICITED TELEPHONE CALLS

I suppose the world of business would grind to a halt if telephone solicitors
weren't able to call people at home during dinner hour.  But that doesn't make
it any more pleasant.

Now Steve Rubenstein, a writer for the San Francisco Chronicle, has proposed
'Three Little Words' based on his brief experience in a telemarketing operation
that would stop the nuisance for all time.

The three little words are 'Hold On, Please'.

Saying this while putting down your phone and walking off instead of hanging up
immediately would make each telemarketing call so time-consuming that boiler
rooms would grind to a halt.  When you eventually hear the phone company's
beep-beep-beep tone, you know it's time to go back and hang up your handset,
which has efficiently completed its task.

This might be one of those articles you'll want to e-mail to your friends.
Three little words that eliminate telephone soliciting.


                        MONTY PYTHON MEETS MICROSOFT

Reg: People are always complaining about the security in windows, but come on,
Windows is great.  All my friends use it!

Loretta: Yes, and my friends friends.

Reg: Yeah.

Loretta: And my friends friends friends.

Reg: Yeah, all right.  Don't labour the point.  And tell me, what is insecure
in Windows?

Rebel2: Outlook?

Reg: What?

Rebel2: Microsoft Outlook.

Reg: Oh yeah, yeah.  That's insecure.  That's true, yeah.

Rebel3: And Internet Explorer.

Loretta: Oh yeah, Internet Explorer, Reg.  Remember all the security holes
that's had?

Reg: Yeah, all right, I'll grant you Outlook and Internet Explorer are two
things are insecure...

Mathias: And IIS.

Reg: Well, yeah.  Obviously IIS, I mean IIS goes without saying, doesn't
it?  But apart from the Outlook, Internet Explorer, and IIS...

Rebel4: Word Macros.

Rebel2: Passport.

Rebel5: Hotmail.

Reg: Yeah, yeah, all right.  Fair enough...

Rebel1: And Active-X.

Rebels: Oh, yeah

Francis: Yeah.  Yeah, That's a really bad one isn't it?  Active-X.

Rebel6: The Windows kernel itself.

Loretta: Yes, remember when they found that NSA key Reg?

Francis: Yeah, well, that's certainly a bit worrying, isn't it?

Everyone: Huhuhuh.  Huhuhuhuhuh.

Reg: All right.  But apart from the Outlook, Internet Explorer, IIS, Word
Macros, Passport, Hotmail, Active-X and the Windows kernel itself, what is
insecure in Windows?

Rebel2: SQL server?

Reg: Oh f#&% off.
[ End Friday humour ]

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