Classic joke thread...

[Teresa Heilevang]

Sickest joke of all time:



Two Middle East mothers are sitting in a cafe chatting over a plate of
tabouli and a pint of goat's milk.

The older of the mothers pulls a bag out of her purse and starts flipping through photos. Then they start reminiscing.

'This is my oldest son Mohammed. He would be 24 years old now.'

'Yes, I remember him as a baby' says the other mother cheerfully.

'He's a martyr now though' mum confides.

'Oh, so sad dear' says the other.

And this is my second son Kalid. He would be 21'

'Oh, I remember him,' says the other happily, 'he had such curly hair when he was born'.

'He's a martyr too' says mum quietly.

'Oh, gracious me ...' Says the other.

'And this is my third son. My baby. My beautiful Ahmed. He would be 18,' she whispers.

'Yes' says the friend enthusiastically, 'I remember when he first started school.'

'He's a martyr also,' says mum, with tears in her eyes.

After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Muslim mother looks wistfully at the photographs and says...

'They blow up so fast, don't they?'

[Teresa Heilevang]

An unemployed man is desperate to support his family of a wife and three kids. He applies for a janitor's job at a large firm and easily passes an aptitude test.

The human resources manager tells him, 'You will be hired at minimum wage of $5.35 an hour. Let me have your e-mail address so that we can get you in the loop. Our system will automatically e-mail you all the forms and advise you when to start and where to report on your first day.'

Taken aback, the man protests that he is poor and has neither a computer nor an e-mail address.

To this the manager replies, 'You must understand that to a company like ours that means that you virtually do not exist. Without an e-mail address you can hardly expect to be employed by a high-tech firm. Good day.'

Stunned, the man leaves Not knowing where to turn and having $10 in his wallet, he walks past a farmers' market and sees a stand selling 25 lb. crates of beautiful red tomatoes. He buys a crate, carries it to a busy corner and displays the tomatoes. In less than 2 hours he sells all the tomatoes and makes 100% profit. Repeating the process several times more that day, he ends up with almost $100 and arrives
home that night with several bags of groceries for his family.

During the night he decides to repeat the tomato business the next day. By the end of the week he is getting up early every day and working into the night. He multiplies his profits quickly.

Early in the second week he acquires a cart to transport several boxes of tomatoes at a time, but before a month is up he sells the cart to buy a broken-down pickup truck.

At the end of a year he owns three old trucks. His two sons have left their neighborhood gangs to help him with the tomato business, his wife is buying the tomatoes, and his daughter is taking night courses at the community college so she can keep books for him.

By the end of the second year he has a dozen very nice used trucks and employs fifteen previously unemployed people, all selling tomatoes. He continues to work hard.

Time passes and at the end of the fifth year he owns a fleet of nice trucks and a warehouse that his wife supervises, plus two tomato farms that the boys manage. The tomato company's payroll has put hundreds of homeless and jobless people to work. His daughter reports that the business grossed over one million dollars.

Planning for the future, he decides to buy some life insurance.

Consulting with an insurance adviser, he picks an insurance plan to fit his new circumstances. Then the adviser asks him for his e-mail address in order to send the final documents electronically.

When the man replies that he doesn't have time to mess with a computer and has no e-mail address, the insurance man is stunned, 'What, you don't have e-mail? No computer? No Internet? Just think where you would be today if you'd had all of that five years ago!'

'Ha!' snorts the man. 'If I'd had e-mail five years ago I would be sweeping floors at Microsoft and making $5.35 an hour.'

Which brings us to the moral of the story:

Since you got this story by e-mail, you're probably closer to being a janitor than a millionaire.

Sadly, I received it also.

[Teresa Heilevang]

Excerpts from a Dog's Diary

* 8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
* 9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
* 9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
* 10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
* 12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
* 1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
* 3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
* 5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
* 7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
* 8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
* 11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

Excerpts from a Cat's Diary

Day 983 of my captivity.

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.

They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.

In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. ********!

The re was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow --but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.

The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.

The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now . . .

[PegLeg45]

Harry, Bill and Steve are sitting at the corner bar enjoying themselves, when Ted walks in looking distressed.

"Ted, you look awful. What's wrong?" Harry asks.

Ted says, "Last night I got really drunk, and then somewhere between here and my house, I was abducted by an alien?"

Everyone is shocked.

"I heard about this kind of thing happening!" Bills says. "What did the alien do to you?"

"I don't remeber all the details," Ted says. "All I remember is being 'probed' by the alien."

Everyone is horrified.

"I heard that they'll do that!" Steve says. "What did the alien look like?"

Ted responds, "Carl."

[PegLeg45]

A cannibal was walking through the jungle and came upon a restaurant opened by a fellow cannibal.

Feeling somewhat hungry, he sat down and looked over the menu...

Broiled Missionary: $10.00
Fried Explorer: $15.00
Baked Politician: $100.00

The cannibal called the waiter over and asked, "Why such a price difference for the politician?"

The waiter replied, "Have you ever tried to clean one?"

[Sponsor]

[Big Frank]

Barak Obama was out jogging one morning along the parkway when he tripped, fell over the bridge railing and  landed in the creek below.

Before the Secret Service guys could get to him, 3  kids who were fishing pulled him out of the water. He was so grateful he offered the kids whatever they wanted.

The first kid said, 'I want to go to Disneyland.'

Barak said, 'No problem, I'll take you  there on my special Senator's airplane.

The second kid said, 'I want a new pair of Nike Air Jordan shoes.'

Barak said, 'I'll get them for you and even  have Michael Jordan sign them!'

The third kid said, 'I want a motorized  wheelchair with a built in TV and stereo headset!'

Barak was a little perplexed by this and said,  'But you don't look like you're  handicapped.'

The kid said, 'I will be after my dad finds out I saved your ass from drowning!'

[deepwater]

This is really good if you own a wood stove or fireplace.

 

 FARWOOD
 
 "Hello, is this here the Sheriff's Office?"

 "Yes. What can I do for you?"

  "I'm calling to report my neighbor, Virgil Smith.
 He's  drillin' holes in his farwood and hiding marijuana inside!"

 "Thank you very much for the call, sir."

 The next day, the Sheriff & his deputies descend on
 Virgil's house. They search the shed where the
 firewood is kept.
 Using axes, they split every piece of wood, but finds
 no marijuana. They sneer at Virgil and leave.

 The phone rings at Virgil's house.

 "Hey, Virgil!  This here is Floyd. Did the Sheriff come?"

 "Yeah!"

 "Did they split yer farwood?"

 "Yep!"

 "Happy Birthday, buddy!"

 (Who says rednecks aren't real bright?!)

 

[deepwater]

HOW DID WE SURVIVE ? ? ?
Looking back, it's hard to believe that we have lived as long as we have.
As children we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags.
Riding in the back of a pickup truck on a warm day was always a special treat.
Our baby cribs were painted with bright colored lead based paint.
We often chewed on the crib, ingesting the paint.
We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors, or cabinets, and when we rode our bikes we had no helmets.
We drank water from the garden hose and not from a bottle.
We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.
No one was able to reach us all day.
We played dodge ball and sometimes the ball would really hurt.
We played with toy guns, cowboys and Indians, army, cops and robbers, and used our fingers to simulate guns when the toy ones or the BB gun was not available.
We ate cupcakes, bread and butter, and drank sugar soda, but we were never over weight; we were always outside playing.
Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team.
Those who didn't, had to learn to deal with disappointment.
Some students weren't as smart as others or didn't work hard so they failed a grade and were held back to repeat the same grade.
That generation produced some of the greatest risk-takers and problem solvers.
We had the freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it all.
Almost all of us would have rather gone swimming in the lake instead of a pristine pool (talk about boring), the term cell phone would have conjured up a phone in a jail cell, and a pager was the school PA system.
We all took gym, not PE... and risked permanent injury with a pair of high top Ked's (only worn in gym) instead of having cross-training athletic shoes with air cushion soles and built in light reflectors.
I can't recall any injuries but they must have happened because they tell us how much safer we are now.
Flunking gym was not an option... even for stupid kids!
I guess PE must be much harder than gym.
Every year, someone taught the whole school a lesson by running in the halls with leather soles on linoleum tile and hitting the wet spot.
How much better off would we be today if we only knew we could have sued the school system.
Speaking of school, we all said prayers and the pledge (amazing we aren't all brain dead from that), and staying in detention after school caught all sorts of negative attention for about the next two weeks.
We must have had horribly damaged psyches.
Schools didn't offer 14 year olds an abortion or condoms (we wouldn't have known what either was anyway) but they did give us a couple of baby aspirin and cough syrup if we started getting the sniffles.
What an archaic health system we had then.
Remember school nurses?
Ours wore a hat and everything.
I thought that I was supposed to accomplish something before I was allowed to be proud of myself.
I just can't recall how bored we were without computers, PlayStation, Nintendo, X-box or 270 digital cable stations.
I must be repressing that memory as I try to rationalize through the denial of the dangers could have befallen us as we trekked off each day about a mile down the road to some guy's vacant 20, built forts out of branches and pieces of plywood, made trails, and fought over who got to be the Lone Ranger.
What was that property owner thinking, letting us play on that lot.
He should have been locked up for not putting up a fence around the property, complete with a self-closing gate and an infrared intruder alarm.
Oh yeah...and where was the Benadryl and sterilization kit when I got that bee sting?
I could have been killed!
We played king of the hill on piles of gravel left on vacant construction sites and when we got hurt, mom pulled out the 48 cent bottle of mercurochrome and then we got butt-whooped.
Now it's a trip to the emergency room, followed by a 10-day dose of a $49 bottle of antibiotics and then mom calls the attorney to sue the contractor for leaving a horribly vicious pile of gravel where it was such a threat.
We didn't act up at the neighbor's house either because if we did, we got butt-whooped (physical abuse) there too... and then we got butt-whooped again when we got home.
Mom invited the door to door salesman inside for coffee, kids choked down the dust from the gravel driveway while playing with Tonka trucks (remember why Tonka trucks were made tough... it wasn't so that they could take the rough berber in the family room), and Dad drove a car with leaded gas.
Our music had to be left inside when we went out to play and I am sure that I nearly exhausted my imagination a couple of times when we went on two week vacations.
I should probably sue the folks now for the danger they put us in when we all slept in campgrounds in the family tent.
Summers were spent behind the push lawnmower and I didn't even know that mowers came with motors until I was 13 and we got one without an automatic blade-stop or an auto-drive.
How sick were my parents?
Of course my parents weren't the only psychos.
I recall Donny Reynolds from next door coming over and doing his tricks on the front stoop just before he fell off.
Little did his mom know that she could have owned our house.
Instead she pick him up and swatted him for being such a goof.
It was a neighborhood run amuck.
To top it off, not a single person I knew had ever been told that they were from a dysfunctional family.
How could we possibly have know that we needed to get into group therapy and anger management classes?
We were obviously so duped by so many societal ills, that we didn't even notice that the entire country wasn't taking Prozac!
How did we survive? 

[deepwater]

MAN IS LYING IN BED IN THE HOSPITAL WITH AN OXYGEN MASK OVER HIS MOUTH.

A YOUNG NURSE APPEARS TO SPONGE HIS HANDS AND FEET. "NURSE", HE MUMBLES
FROM BEHIND THE MASK, ARE MY TESTICLES BLACK?"

EMBARRASSED, THE YOUNG NURSE REPLIES, "I DON'T KNOW, I'M ONLY HERE TO
WASH YOUR HANDS AND FEET.

HE STRUGGLES AGAIN TO ASK, NURSE, ARE MY TESTICLES BLACK?"

FINALLY, SHE PULLS BACK THE COVERS, RAISES HIS GOWN, HOLDS HIS PRIVATES
IN ONE HAND AND HIS TESTICLES IN HER OTHER HAND AND TAKES A CLOSE LOOK
AND SAY'S,

"THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THEM!"

FINALLY, THE MAN PULLS OFF HIS OXYGEN MASK AND REPLIES," THAT WAS VERY
NICE BUT, ARE --MY--TEST--RESULTS--BACK ?

[deepwater]

I'm on a roll here.
Mike was going to be married to Julie, so his father sat
him down for a little fireside chat ..

He says "Mike, let me tell you something. On my wedding
night in our honeymoon suite, I took off my pants and
handed them to your mother, and said, 'Here - try these on."

So, she did and said, 'These are too big, I can't wear them.'

So I replied, 'Exactly. I wear the pants in this family and I
always will.' Ever since that night we have never had any problems.

"Hmmm," says Mike. He thinks that might be a good thing to try.

On his honeymoon, Mike takes off his pants and says to Julie,
"Here try these on." So she does and says, "These are too large,
they don't fit me."

So Mike says, "Exactly. I wear the pants in this family and I
always will, and I don't want you to ever forget that."

Then Julie takes off her pants and hands them to Mike and says,
"Here you try on mine." So he does and says, "I can't get into your
pants."

So Julie says, "Exactly. And if you don't change your smart ass
attitude, you never will."