Friday humour - August 12, 2005


     From Davo at bluehaze:

           G'day
    While doing the daily dial twiddle from 3AW (after listening to the top
    rating Rumour File segment at 7:05) down to Magic 693 (which unfortunately at
    the moment is not in stereo) I stumbled onto some interesting programming on
    what might be called Redneck Radio - 855 3CR - Melbourne's original community
    radio station.  There was a brief editorial which posed the question ...
    
      "Have you ever considered how the National Australia Bank justifies paying
       its CEO $5 million per year at the same time as it is getting rid of 2000
       of its workers?"
    
    This indeed it is something many of us should ponder.
    
    But then I did the maths (math for our US readers).  And it can clearly be
    seen that the bank with record profits comes out way in front.
    
    It does however raise the question.  How can any CEO (or indeed anyone in the
    world) justify such a filthy rich wage?  In this case the NAB is a protected
    species.  Treasurer Costello has forbidden any "unapproved" takeover of
    Australia's "Big Four" banks.  Let's hope he's true to his word - unlike
    other Liberals (you know who they are).
    
    At the same time the Liberal government is desperately trying to dismantle all
    hardly fought for IR reforms gained over 100 years and establish a Fair Pay
    Commission - saying that nobody will be worse off - but there are no
    guarantees.  Tony mentioned this in our last issue.
    
    Might I suggest that this new government controlled quango's first task be
    to look at the "wages" paid to corporate CEOs.
    
    It's also interesting that the national government has committed $20 million
    (so far) of taxpayers money to advertise Liberal Party propaganda before even
    a draft of its proposed IR legislation has been released.  Shades of living
    in the old USSR I'd say.  But nevermind.  Most people simply don't care.
    They are just so happy that Labor didn't get in - which would have apparently
    immediately resulted in an interest rates blowout.
    
    All I will say is ... watch this space.
    
    Whilst giving 3CR a little bit of deserved publicity several of you may
    like to read a bit more about what Tony was referring to about IR "reform"
    last week.  This is an interesting read the "We the People" conference held
    a couple of weeks ago: Click here
    
    On the humour front, Brett the store dude sent this game in.  Give it a try!
    Click here
    
    And now to the meat and vegies ...


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   First up from Brett the Dude

                                   A LESSON IN MORALS

A teacher gave her class of 11 year olds an assignment: Get their parents
to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it.

The next day the kids came back and one by one began to tell their stories.

Karl said, "My father's a farmer and we have a lot of egg laying chooks. One
time we were taking our eggs to market in a basket on the front seat of
the car when we hit a big bump in the road and all the eggs went flying and
broke and made a mess."

"What's the moral of the story?" asked the teacher.

"Don't put all your eggs in one basket!"

"Very good," said the teacher.

Next little Emilie raised her hand and said, "Our family are farmers too. But
we raise chooks for the meat market. One day we had a dozen eggs, but when
they hatched we only got ten live chicks, and the moral to this story is,
'Don't count your chickens before they're hatched'."

That was a fine story Emilie.  Mick, do you have a story to share?"

"Yes. My dad told me this story about my Aunty Sharon. Aunty Sharon was a
flight engineer on a plane in the Gulf War and her plane got hit. She had
to bail out over enemy territory and all she had was 3 bottles of rum,
a machine gun and a machete. She drank all the rum on the way down so
it wouldn't break and then she landed right in the middle of 100 enemy
troops. She killed seventy of them with the machine gun until she ran out
of bullets. Then she killed twenty more with the machete until the blade
broke. And then she killed the last ten with her bare hands."

"Good heavens," said the horrified teacher, "what kind of moral did your
father tell you from that horrible story?"

"Stay the fuck away from Aunty Sharon when she's been on the piss."

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And from Fosters John over at CUB

                                BATTLE OF HASTINGS

King Harold was inspecting his troops on the eve of the Battle of Hastings,
chatting with them a bit, trying to raise their morale, that sort of thing.

He went to the swordsmen first, choosing a soldier at random from amongst
the ranks. "Do you feel ready for the battle tomorrow?" he asked.

"Oh yes, sire," the swordsman responded eagerly.

"Handy with that thing are you?" Harold asked, indicating the man's sword.

"Reasonably so, sire," the man replied. "Watch." He bent down, picked up a
handful of grass, flung it in the air, and waved his sword about. When the
grass fell down again, it had been cut into a neat line of soldier figures.

"Good work, man," said Harold, impressed, "and good luck in the battle."

"Thank you, sire," said the soldier.

King Harold proceeded to inspect the pikemen. "Are you looking forward to
the battle?" he asked one of their number.

"Yes, sire," the man replied.

"Good with your pike, are you?" the King asked.

"Not bad," the pikeman said. "See that flock of birds?" Harold nodded,
and the pike flashed in the soldiers hand. It went sailing through the air,
right through the centre of the flock, and when it came down five birds were
skewered on it.

"Well done," said Harold, "and good luck in the battle tomorrow."

He then went to the archers, who stood proudly with their longbows, looking
inintimidating even to someone on their side. "Are you ready for tomorrow's
battle?" King Harold asked one bowman

The man squinted at him a bit, then said, "Good Lord, it's the King! Um,
yes I'm ready."

"What can you do with that bow, then?" Harold asked him.

"What? Oh, this thing? I dunno. Someone gave me it yesterday and told me to
stay with these people here."

"Well... do you see that barn over there, about twenty yards away?"

The archer peered in the direction of Harold's pointing finger. "Oh yes,
I see it," he said at last.

"Do you think you could hit that?"

"I think so." He lined himself up with the barn, grunting with the effort
of drawing the bow, and loosed the arrow. It sailed past the barn, five feet
too high and ten feet to the left.

"Did I hit it?" he asked.

"Er, yes," said Harold. "Well done, and good luck."

Then the King turned to the captain of archery and said in an undertone,
"Watch out for that man tomorrow, will you? He'll have somebody's eye out
with that thing."


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   This from Little Di

                                 PICKING A WIFE

A man is dating three women and wants to pick one to marry. He decides to
give them a test. He gives each woman a present of $5,000 and watches to
see what they do with the money.

The first does a total make over. She goes to a fancy beauty salon, gets
her hair done, new make up, and buys several new outfits and dresses up
very nicely for the man. She tells him that she has done this to be more
attractive for him because she loves him so much.

The man was impressed.

The second goes shopping to buy the man gifts. She gets him a new set of golf
clubs, some new gizmos for his computer, and some expensive clothes. As she
presents these gifts, she tells him that she has spent all the money on him
because she loves him so much.

Again, the man is impressed.

The third invests the money in the stock market. She earns several times the
$5,000. She gives him back his $5000 and reinvests the remainder in a joint
account. She tells him that she wants to save for their future because she
loves him so much.

Obviously, the man was impressed.

The man thought for a long time about what each woman had done with the
money he'd given her.

Then, he married the one with the biggest tits.

Men are like that, you know.


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These from UK Smithy

                               KING ARTHUR AND THE WITCH

Young King Arthur was ambushed and imprisoned by the monarch of a neighboring
kingdom. The monarch could have killed him but was moved by Arthur's youth and
ideals. So, the monarch offered him his freedom, as long as he could answer
a very difficult question. Arthur would have a year to figure out the answer
and, if after a year, ! he still had no answer, he would be put to death.

The question?.... What do women really want? Such a question would perplex
even the most knowledgeable man, and to young Arthur, it seemed an impossible
query. But, since it was better than death, he accepted the monarch's
proposition to have an answer by year's end.

He returned to his kingdom and began to poll everyone: the princess, the
priests, the wise men and even the court jester. He spoke with everyone,
but no one could give him a satisfactory answer.

Many people advised him to consult the old witch, for only she would have
the answer.

But the price would be high; as the witch was famous throughout the kingdom
for the exorbitant prices she charged.

The last day of the year arrived and Arthur had no choice but to talk to the
witch. She agreed to answer the question, but he would have to agree to her
price first.

The old witch wanted to marry Sir Lancelot, the most noble of the Knights
of the Round Table and Arthur's closest friend!

Young Arthur was horrified. She was hunchbacked and hideous, had only one
tooth, smelled like sewage, made obscene noises, etc. He had never encountered
such a repugnant creature in all his life.

He refused to force his friend to marry her and endure such a terrible burden,
but Lancelot, learning of the proposal, spoke with Arthur.

He said nothing was too big of a sacrifice compared to Arthur's life and
the preservation of the Round Table.

Hence, a wedding was proclaimed and the witch answered Arthur's question thus:

What a woman really wants, she answered ... is to be in charge of her own life.

Everyone in the kingdom instantly knew that the witch had uttered a great
truth and that Arthur's life would be spared.

And so it was, the neighboring monarch granted Arthur his freedom and Lancelot
and the witch had a wonderful wedding.

The honeymoon hour approached and Lancelot, steeling himself for a horrific
experience, entered the bedroom. But, what a sight awaited him. The most
beautiful woman he had ever seen, lay before him on the bed. The astounded
Lancelot asked what had happened

The beauty replied that since he had been so kind to her when she appeared
as a witch, she would henceforth be her horrible deformed self only half
the time and the beautiful maiden the other half.

Which would he prefer? Beautiful during the day! .... or night?

Lancelot pondered the predicament. During the day, a beautiful woman
to show off to his friends, but at night, in the privacy of his castle,
an old witch? Or, would he prefer having a hideous witch during the day,
but by night, a beautiful woman for him to enjoy wondrous, intimate moments?

What would YOU do?

What Lancelot chose is below.   BUT.... make YOUR choice before you scroll
down below. OKAY?

Noble Lancelot, knowing the answer the witch gave Arthur to his question,
said that he would allow HER to make the choice herself.

Upon hearing this, she announced that she would be beautiful all the time
because he had respected her enough to let her be in charge of her own life.

Now.... what's the moral to this story?

The moral is ... If you don't let a woman have her own way ... Things are
going to get ugly.

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                                  SYMBOLIC NAMES

A little Indian boy asked his father, the big chief of the tribe, "Papa,
why is it that we always have long names, while the white men have shorter
names - Bill, Tex or Sam, for example?"  His father replied ...

"Look, son, our names represent a symbol, a sign, or a poem for our
culture. For example, your sister's name is Small Romantic Moon Over The Lake,
because on the night she was born, there was a beautiful moon reflected in
the lake.

Then there's your brother, Big White Horse of the Prairies, because he was
born on a day that the big white horse who gallops over the prairies of the
world appeared near our camp. It's very simple and easy to understand.

Do you have any other questions, Little Broken Condom Made in China?"

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                                 TOWEL HEADS

Recently I received a warning about the use of this politically incorrect
term, so please note, we all need to be more sensitive in our choice of words.

I have been informed the Islamic terrorists, who hate our guts and want to
kill us, do not like to be called "Towel Heads", since the item they wear
on their heads is not actually a towel, but in fact, a small folded sheet.

Therefore, from this point forward, please refer to them as "Little Sheet
Heads."

Thank you for your support and compliance on this delicate matter, and
God Bless America.

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And from Little Di

                                 GOLDFISH FUNERAL

Little Paula was in the garden filling in a hole when her neighbor peered
over the fence.

Interested in what the cheeky-faced youngster was doing, he politely asked,
"What are you up to there, Paula?

"My goldfish died," replied Paula tearfully, without looking up, "and I've
just buried him."

The neighbor was concerned, "I am so sorry for your loss but that seems to
be an awfully big hole for a little tiny goldfish, isn't it?"

Paula nicely patted down the last heap of earth on the grave then replied,
"That's because he's inside your fucking cat."

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Guess who's back ...  And front.  Steve Kerosene has just popped up from a
crack in the floor and submitted this.  Welcome back KeroSteve!

                        My new name is Sloopy Chickendoodle

                        [ ... and mine's Goober Dippinfrack - Ed ]

We all need a little stress-reliever today! This only takes a minute.

Please don't be a bore and ruin it. Send it on to everyone you know including
the person that sent it to you.

Sometimes when you have a stressful day or week, you need some silliness to
break up the day. And, if we are honest, we have a lot more stressful days
than not.

Here is your dose of humour...

A. Follow the instructions to find your new name.

B. Once you have your new name, put it in the subject box and forward it to
friends and family and co-workers. Don't forget to forward it back to The
person who sent it to you, so they know you participated.

And don't go all adult - a senior manager is now known far and wide as
Dorky Gizzardsniffer.

The following in excerpted from a children's book, "Captain Underpants And
the Perilous Plot Professor Poopypants" by Dave Pil! key, in which the evil
Professor forces everyone to assume new names...

1. Use the third letter of your first name to determine your new first name:

  a = snickle
  b = doombah
  c = goober
  d = cheesey
  e = crusty
  f = greasy
  g = dumbo
  h = farcus
  i = dorky
  j = doofus
  k = funky
  l = boobie
  m = sleezy
  n = sloopy
  o = fluffy
  p = stinky
  q = slimy
  r = dorfus
  s = snooty
  t = tootsie
  u = dipsy
  v = sneezy
  w = liver
  x = skippy
  y = dinky
  z = zippy

2. Use the second letter of your last name to determine the first half of your
   new last name:

  a = dippin
  b = feather
  c = batty
  d = burger
  e = chicken
  f = barffy
  g = lizard
  h = waffle
  i = farkle
  j = monkey
  k = flippin
  l = fricken
  m = bubble
  n = rhino
  o = potty
  p = hamster
  q = buckle
  r = gizzard
  s = lickin
  t = snickle
  u = chuckle
  v = pickle
  w = hubble
  x = dingle
  y = gorilla
  z = ! girdle

  3. Use the third letter of your last name to determine the second half
  of your new last name:

  a = butt
  b = boob
  c = face
  d = nose
  e = hump
  f = breath
  g = pants
  h = shorts
  i = lips
  j = honker
  k = head
  l = tush
  m = chunks
  n = dunkin
  o = brains
  p = biscuits
  q = toes
  r = doodle
  s = fanny
  t = sniffer
  u = sprinkles
  v = frack
  w = squirt
  x = humperdinck
  y = hiney
  z = juice

  Thus, for example, George W. Bush's new name is Fluffy Chucklefanny.

Now when you SEND THIS ON...use your new name as the subject. And remember
that children laugh an average of 146 times a day; adults laugh an average
of 4 times a day. Put more laughter in your day.

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This weeks pics are from Burnout, IsK, Moses, Mandie M&Ms, Allnutts, Digi
Maria, UK Smithy, Treetop Eric, Gropwo, Little Di, Cartographer Chris, Digi
Steve, Sir Douglas; Petty, Tandberg, and Leunig from The Age, and Leahy from
The Courier Mail.

From Jeff at Sydney Uni: The scary thing is that it is quite believable!!
 Click here

From IsK: Doesn't pay to be stupid.  A couple of idiot kids are driving down
a residential street when the kid in the back seat tries to knock some kid
off his bike by opening up the driver-side back door: Click here

From UK Smithy: A photo I took yesterday at 1024x768 - thought you might like
it: Click here

Smithy and "you know who you are" assortment ...
 Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here
 Click here Click here

The real Batman Click here

Bumper stickers Click here

Untalent Time Click here

T-shirts: Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here
 Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here

London fights back Click here

Bedside manners Click here

In the news: Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here
 Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here

Greek Pentagon Click here

Monkey business Click here

Candid Camera: Click here Click here Click here Click here Click here
 Click here Click here

Pussy attack Click here

More on Schapelle ... Click here

Teatime Click here

My new boyfriend Click here

Made of what?  Click here Click here

New cabin arrangements Click here

Ho Ho Click here

Clinton's words Click here

Satin sheets Click here

The old carpet joke Click here

Coffee with Mum Click here

Tiger v Crocodile Click here

Batman Click here

Satisfaction - Benni Benassi Click here

Mountain bike disaster Click here

Only in America Click here

Holy shit Click here

Charge of the Spermatozoids Click here

Smartest man in the world Click here

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   This arrived from Nottingham Smithy AND Allnutts of Highett ...

                                SQUIRREL GRIP

I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential
neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous!   Little did I suspect.

I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow
traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from
under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me.

It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it
encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time
to brake or avoid it - it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and
I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me.

I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never
fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his
hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady
little eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed
and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Bonzai!" or maybe,
"Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!"

The leap was nothing short of spectacular...

He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in
the chest.

Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he
brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing,
and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity.

As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans
this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing
some damage!

Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans,
a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet
residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel.

And losing...

I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to
snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left
of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.

That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really
should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept
yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one
would have been the wiser.

But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry
squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!

Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the
force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing
impact, he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather antisocial
and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove
with him!

The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were
continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the
least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand
(the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately
put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy
twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This
is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.

The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed
in anger.

The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy.   I screamed in ... well .. I just plain
screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans,
a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring
at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street
on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back. The man and the
squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on
the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the
mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into
somebody's tree, house, or parked car.

Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle... my brain
was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had
little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.

About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention
to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant attack squirrel of
death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me.

As the faceplate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure
my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however.

The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting
at the moment), so her front end started to drop.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans,
a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at
probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail
sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are
probably getting a little hoarse.

Finally I got the upper hand . I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him
out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time
it worked .. sort-of.

Spectacularly sort-of ... so to speak.

Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off
on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some
paperwork.

Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans,
a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove,
moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by,
and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your
police car. I heard screams.

They weren't mine...

I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel
to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of
tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to
'fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really... Except
for two things.

First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about
me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol
car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back,
doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car.

The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street, aiming
a riot shotgun at his own police car.

So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the
professionals handle it" anyway.

That was one thing. The other?

Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery
from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back
window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous squirrel. And
now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car ... but it was all his.

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn
off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was
best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a whole lot of Band-Aids.

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More from the Digi Lady

                             THE LATEST BLONDE JOKE

The local sheriff was looking for a deputy, so a blonde went in to try out
for the job. "Okay," the sheriff drawled, "What is 1 and 1?"

"Eleven," she replied.

Then the sheriff asked, "What two days of the week start with the letter 'T'?"

"Today and tomorrow," replied the blonde. He was again surprised that the
blonde supplied a correct answer that he had never thought of himself.

"Now, listen carefully, who killed Abraham Lincoln?", asked the sheriff.

The blonde looked a little surprised herself, then thought really hard for
a minute and finally admitted, "I don't know."

The sheriff replied, "Well, why don't you go home and work on that one for
a while?"

So, the blonde wandered over to the beauty parlor, where her best friend was
waiting to hear the results of the interview. The blonde was exultant. "It
went great! First day on the job and I'm already working on a murder case!"

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Another from Digi Maria

                                 MABEL AND MAUD

Two old ladies are outside their nursing home, having a drink and a smoke,
when it starts to rain. One of the old ladies pulls out a condom, cuts off
the end, puts it over her cigarette, and continues smoking.

Maude: What in the hell is that?

Mabel: A condom. This way my cigarette doesn't get wet.

Maude: Where did you get it?

Mabel: You can get them at any drugstore.

The next day, Maude hobbles herself into the local drugstore and announces
to the pharmacist that she wants a box of condoms.

The pharmacist, obviously embarrassed, looks at her kind of strangely (she
is after all, over 80 years of age), but very delicately asks what brand of
condom she prefers.

"Doesn't matter Sonny, as long as it fits on a Camel."

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And also from Lars at CUB, courtesy of Fosters John

                                PAY ON THE KNOCKER

On their wedding night, the young bride approached her new husband and asked
for $20.00 for their first love making encounter. In his highly aroused
state her husband readily agreed.

This scenario was repeated each time they made love, for the next 30 years,
with him thinking that it was a cute way for her to afford new clothes and
other incidentals that she needed.

Arriving home around noon one day, she was surprised to find her husband in
a drunken state. He explained that his employer was going through a process
of corporate downsizing, and he had been let go. It was unlikely that at
the age of 55, he'd be able to find another position that paid anywhere near
what he'd been earning, and therefore, they were financially ruined.

Calmly, his wife handed him a bank book which showed thirty years of deposits
and interest totalling nearly $1 million. Then she showed him certificates of
deposits issued by the bank which were worth over $2 million, and informed him
that they were one of the largest depositors in the bank. She explained that
for the 30 years she had charged him for sex, these holdings had multiplied
and these were the results of her savings and investments.

Faced with evidence of cash and investments worth over $3 million, her husband
was so astounded he could barely speak, but finally he found his voice and
blurted out, "If I'd had any idea what you were doing, I would have given
you all my business!"

 ----- fh --------- fh --------- bluehaze --------- fh --------- fh -----

Quote of the Week

  "I smoke ten to fifteen cigars a day. At my age I have to hold on to
   something."
               - George Burns

  [ For memory good old George went to God at age 101.

   Say Goodnight Gracie ...    Ed ]

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[ End Fri humour ]

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