HUMOR Digest - 13 May 1997 to 14 May 1997
There are 11 messages totalling 480 lines in this issue.

Topics of the day:

  1. Charity <some adult humor>
  2. Quote (off. R. Catholics?)
  3. Terrorize Your Roommate (4/4, language)
  4. From Good to Bad to Worse
  5. Pool Safety (penile theme)
  6. I'd love to, but... (1 of 3)
  7. Nuns in Heaven <Adult>
  8. The waiter's spoon
  9. Bus route
 10. Elmo joke (cute)
 11. The Polly Nomial Story <clean>

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Date:    Tue, 13 May 1997 03:21:33 -0400
From:    Jim Moore Jr <jimjr@PIPELINE.COM>
Subject: Charity <some adult humor>

*   Despite warnings from his guide, an American, who was skiing in
  Switzerland, got separated from his group and fell uninjured into
  a deep crevasse.  Several hours later, a rescue party found the
  yawing pit and, to reassure the stranded skier, shouted to him,
  "We're from the Red Cross."
    "Sorry," the imperturbable American yelled back, "I already gave
  at the Office."
                                - - - - -

*   Some tourists were stranded on a deserted island.  All but one
  of the men were extremely upset at their plight.  Finally a man
  asked the guy why it was he didn't seem the least bit concerned.
    He just smiled and said "Hell man, I just pledged over $110,000
  to the United Way Campaign.  Ain't no why they're gonna leave
  me stranded on some stupid island."
                                - - - - -

* A homeless man is standing outside a hotel in Columbia Maryland
  where people were just emerging from a fancy dress ball.  The
  poorly dressed man asked this one Yuppette for a dollar.  She says,
  "What is wrong with you ?  I just came from a charity ball where I
  spent one thousand dollars for a dress; two hundred to have my hair
  done and nails polished; three hundred for shoes; and the tickets to
  this event were fifteen hundred dollars, only fifty of which is tax
  deductible.  How dare you ask me for a dime when I've just spent all
  that money on you."
                                - - - - -

*   A fellow named Max was the best collector this one charity ever had.
  He always turned in the most funds every year.  Finally the chairman
  prevailed upon Max to teach his methods to others.  Max tells the
  novice collector to first get two bags and follow him.  He goes into
  a restaurant and proceeds to the Men's room.  Finding a man in there
  alone at a urinal, Max pulls a large knife and says he's collecting
  for charity.  The man "donates" generously into Max's opened bag.
    The novice collector is stuck dumbfounded.  He says, "You can't do
  that!  Worthy cause or not.  That's illegal.  I want no part of this.
  I'm am curious though as to what the other bag's for."
    Max shrugs his shoulders and sez "Not everybody gives."

------------------------------

Date:    Tue, 13 May 1997 10:33:12 UT+0200
From:    Lize Lubbe <Lize.Lubbe@LUBBE.DYNAGEN.CO.ZA>
Subject: Quote (off. R. Catholics?)

While cleaning my office I came across a piece of paper with this
quote from Moby-Dick:

   " ... of all erections on earth few are domed like St Peter's ..."

I wonder, did Melville smile when he wrote that?

------------------------------

Date:    Tue, 13 May 1997 13:19:27 +0200
From:    Brian Myers <bmyers@IAFRICA.COM>
Subject: Terrorize Your Roommate (4/4, language)

 76. Make cue cards for your roommate. Get them out whenever you'd like to
have a conversation.
 77. Talk like a pirate, all the time. Threaten to make your roommate walk
the plank if he/she doesn't swab the deck. Arrrrrrrrrrrgh!
 78. Set up about twenty plants in an organized formation. When your
roommate walks in, pretend to be in the middle of delivering a speech to the
plants. Whisper to them, "We'll continue this later," while eyeing your
roommate suspiciously.
 79. Buy a telescope. Sit on your bed and look across the room at your
roommate through the telescope. When you're not using the telescope, act
like your roommate is too far away for you to see.
 80. Keep some worms in a shoebox. When doing homework, go and consult with
the worms every so often. Then become angry, shouting at the worms that
they're stupid and they don't know what they're talking about.
 81. Watch "Psycho" every day for a month. Then act excited every time your
roommate goes to take a shower.
 82. Wear a paper hat. Every time your roommate walks in, say, "Welcome to
McDonalds, can I take your... Oh, it's just you." Take off the hat, sit, and
pout.
 83. Go through your roommate's textbooks with a red pen, changing things
and making random corrections. If your roommate protests, tell him/her that
you just couldn't take it anymore.
 84. Leave the room at random, knock on the door, and wait for your roommate
to let you back in. If he/she asks about it, go on a tangent about the
importance of good manners.
 85. Hang a horseshoe above the door. Make up stories about having had good
luck. Then, take the horseshoe down and wrap your head in bandages.  When
you see your roommate, look above the door where the horseshoe used to be,
hold your head, and mutter, "Stupid horseshoe...."
 86. Carve a jack-o-lantern. Complain to your roommate that the
jack-o-lantern has been staring at you. The next day, tell your roommate
that the jack-o-lantern thinks he/she has been staring at it.  Confide in
your roommate that you really don't like the     jack-o-lantern, but you
can't convince it to move out.
 87. As soon as your roommate turns the light off at night, begin singing
famous operas as loud as you can. When your roommate turns on the light,
look around and pretend to be confused.
 88. Hang a basketball net on the wall. Challenge your refrigerator to
basketball games, and play them in front of your roommate. Do so for about a
month. Confide in your roommate that you think the refrigerator has been
taking steroids.
 89. Drink lots of lemonade. Talk obnoxiously for hours about how much you
love lemonade. Then, one day, paint your face yellow. From then on, complain
about how much you hate lemonade.
 90. Late at night, start conversations that begin with, "Remember the good
old days, when we used to..." and make up stories involving you and your
roommate.
 91. Whenever your roommate sneezes, go and hide in the closet for about and
hour. Look around nervously for the rest of the day.
 92. Sit and stare at your roommate for hours. Bring others in to join you.
Eat peanuts, throwing a few at your roommate. Then say, "Boy, these zoos
just aren't what they used to be."
 93. Tell your roommate that your toe hurts, and that means there's going to
be an earthquake, soon. While your roommate is out, trash everything on
his/her side of the room. When he/she returns, explain that the  earthquake
hit, but only on one side of the room.
 94. Buy a gun. Clean it every day. One day, put a band-aid on your
forehead, and refuse to discuss the gun ever again.
 95. Buy a lobster. Pretend to play cards with it. Complain to your roommate
that the lobster is making up his own rules.
 96. Make pancakes every morning, but don't eat them. Draw faces on them,
and toss them in the closet. Watch them for several hours each day.
Complain to your roommate that your "pancake farm" isn't evolving into a
self-sufficient community. Confide in your roommate that you think the king
of the pancakes has been taking bribes.
 97. While you are ironing, pretend to burn yourself. Start a garbage can
fire in the middle of the room. Toss the iron inside. If your roommate
objects, explain that you are just trying to get even.
 98. Buy some turtles. Paint numbers on their backs. Race them down the hall.
 99. Create an army of animal crackers. Put them through basic training.
Set up little checkpoints around the room. Tell your roommate that the camel
spotted him/her in a restricted area and said not to do it again.  Ask your
roommate to apologize to the camel.
100. Put out a plate of cookies at night. Tell your roommate that they're
for the Sandman. Take a bite out of one of the cookies while your roommate
is asleep. The next morning, accuse your roommate of having bitten one of
the cookies. If he/she tries to tell you the Sandman did it, insist that you
know what the Sandman's teeth marks look like and that those are, in fact,
not the Sandman's teeth marks. Grumble angrily  and storm out of the room.

=================================================
Brian Myers, an American in Cape Town.

------------------------------

Date:    Tue, 13 May 1997 09:03:44 -0400
From:    Terry Galan <galante@MCMAIL.CIS.MCMASTER.CA>
Subject: From Good to Bad to Worse

 Bad: You can't find your vibrator.
 Worse: Your daughter "borrowed" it.

 Bad: You find a porn movie in your son's room.
 Worse: You're in it.

 Bad: Your children are sexually active.
 Worse: With each other.

 Bad: Your husband's a crossdresser.
 Worse: He looks better than you.

 Bad: Your son's involved in Satanism.
 Worse: As a sacrifice.

 Bad: Your wife wants a divorce.
 Worse: She's a lawyer.

 Bad: Your wife's leaving you.
 Worse: For another woman.

 Bad: Your wife's leaving you.
 Worse: To enter a convent.

 Bad: Your wife's arrested for soliciting.
 Worse: She implicates you.

 Good: Hot outdoor sex.
 Bad: You're arrested.
 Worse: By your husband.

 Good: The postman's early.
 Bad: He's wearing camos and has an AK-47.

 Good: The secretary said "yes."
 Bad: Your wife says "no."

 Good: The teacher likes your son.
 Bad: Sexually.
 Worse: He's gay.

 Good: You came home for a quickie.
 Bad: So did the postman.

 Good: You came home for a quickie.
 Bad: Your wife walks in.

 Good: You get a three-day weekend.
 Bad: You get the flu on Friday.

 Good: You get tickets to the theatre.
 Bad: It's performance art.

 Good: You go to see a strip show.
 Bad: Your daughter's the headliner.

 Good: Your boyfriend's exercising.
 Bad: So he'll fit in your clothes.

 Good: Your car conveniently "runs out of gas."
 Bad: For real.

 Good: Your child's "waiting for Mr. Right".
 Bad: Your son, that is.

 Good: Your daughter's on the Pill.
 Bad: She's eleven.

 Good: Your neighbor exercises in the nude.
 Bad: He weighs 350 pounds.

 Good: Your son's doing extra credit work.
 Bad: Making a sex education video.

 Good: Your uncle leaves you a fortune.
 Bad: It's counterfeit.

 Good: Your wife bought a porn video.
 Bad: Your daughter's the star.

 Good: Your wife likes outdoor sex.
 Bad: You live downtown.

 Good: Your wife meets you at the door nude.
 Bad: She's coming home.

 Good: Your wife's kinky.
 Bad: With the neighbors.
 Worse: All of them.

------------------------------

Date:    Tue, 13 May 1997 08:24:27 -0500
From:    Cyndi <cyndi.johnson@MAIL.UTEXAS.EDU>
Subject: Pool Safety (penile theme)


Man's penis catches in pool suction hole
LAKELAND, Fl. - Police and paramedics made an early morning
call to a motel to free a man whose penis was caught in a
swimming pool suction fitting.
A clerk at the Scottish Inn motel made a 911 call at 4:45 a.m.
Friday, saying the 33-year-old man was trapped in the swimming
pool.
"As I approached the man," a police officer wrote in his report,
"I could see his pants were down to his knees and his penis
was stuck in a suction hole located in the northside wall of the
swimming pool."
A police officer identified the man as Robert Scott Cheuvront
of Lakeland.
The pool's pump was shut off before paramedics arrived, but
the man still could not free himself because his penis had
become swollen in the small hole that serves as part of the
pool's filtration system.
Paramedics inserted a lubricant around the suction fitting,
and after 40 minutes, authorities were able to free the man.

------------------------------

Date:    Tue, 13 May 1997 09:46:07 -0400
From:    "Harter, Doug" <Harter@EXCHANGE.PADER.GOV>
Subject: I'd love to, but... (1 of 3)

I'd love to, but I made an appointment with a cuticle specialist.
I'd love to, but having fun gives me prickly heat.
I'd love to, but I changed the lock on my door and now I can't get out.
I'd love to, but I did my own thing and now I've got to undo it.
I'd love to, but I don't want to leave my comfort zone.
I'd love to, but I feel a song coming on.
I'd love to, but I have some real hard words to look up in the dictionary.
I'd love to, but I have to answer all of my 'occupant' letters.
I'd love to, but I have to be on the next train to Bermuda.
I'd love to, but I have to bleach my hare.
I'd love to, but I have to check the freshness dates on my dairy products.
I'd love to, but I have to draw 'Cubby' for an art scholarship.
I'd love to, but I have to floss my cat.
I'd love to, but I have to fluff my shower cap.
I'd love to, but I have to fulfill my potential.
I'd love to, but I have to go to court for kitty littering.
I'd love to, but I have to go to the post office to see if I'm still wanted.
I'd love to, but I have to jog my memory.
I'd love to, but I have to knit some dust bunnies for a charity bazaar.
I'd love to, but I have to rotate my crops.
I'd love to, but I have to sit up with a sick ant.
I'd love to, but I have to stay home and see if I snore.
I'd love to, but I have to study for a blood test.
I'd love to, but I have to thaw some karate chops for dinner.
I'd love to, but I have to wash/condition/perm/curl/tease/torment my hair.
I'd love to, but I have too much guilt.
I'd love to, but I left my body in my other clothes.
I'd love to, but  I never go out on days that end in 'Y'.
I'd love to, but I prefer to remain an enigma.
I'd love to, but I promised to help a friend fold road maps.
I'd love to, but I think you want the OTHER Luke.


*If a woman wants to learn to drive, don't stand in her way.

------------------------------

Date:    Tue, 13 May 1997 20:11:29 -0400
From:    Jacqueline C Grant <jgrant@HEJIRA.HUNTER.CUNY.EDU>
Subject: Nuns in Heaven <Adult>

I do not know the origins of this one.  But don't let that stop you from
enjoying it.

        Four nuns who had recently died, went to heaven and were waiting
at the gate for verification of whether or not they deserved to enter
heaven.  The man at the gate said that if any of them had ever sinned, now
would be the time to confess.  The first nun confessed that she had
sinned, because she saw a penis.  The man told her to go over to a nearby
fountain and wash her eyes out and she will allowed to enter heaven.  The
second nun confessed that she had sinned, because she had touched a penis.
The man told her to go to the fountain and wash her hands and she too
would be allowed to enter heaven.  Then the fourth nun immediately ran
past the third nun straight to the fountain and began washing her mouth
out.  When the man told her that she would have a chance to wash away her
sins, she replied that she didn't want to have to go after the third nun
washed her bottom in the fountain.  :-)

------------------------------

Date:    Tue, 13 May 1997 19:36:53 -0500
From:    Cereal Killer <lvermont@UWIMONA.EDU.JM>
Subject: The waiter's spoon

It seems that a man entered a restaurant and sat at the only open table. As
he sat down, he knocked the spoon off the table with his elbow.

A nearby waiter reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a clean spoon and
set it on the table. The diner was impressed. "Do all the waiters carry
spoons in their pockets?"  The waiter replied, "Yes. Ever since we had that
efficiency expert out, he determined that 17.8% of our diners knock the
spoon off the table. By carrying clean spoons with us, we save trips to the
kitchen."

The diner ate his meal. As he was paying the waiter, he commented, "Forgive
the intrusion, but do you know that you have a string hanging from your
fly?" The waiter replied, "Yes, we all do. Seems that the same efficiency
expert determined that we spend too much time washing our hands after using
the men's room.  So, the other end of that string is tied to my penis. When
I need to go, I simply pull the string to get my penis out, go, and return
to work.  Since I don't actually touch myself, there's no need to wash my
hands. Saves a lot of time."

"Wait a minute," said the diner. "How do you get your penis back in your pants?"

"Well, I don't know about the other guys, but I use the spoon."

------------------------------

Date:    Wed, 14 May 1997 01:25:10 GMT
From:    "Aditya, the Hindu Skeptic" <aditya@SMART1.NET>
Subject: Bus route

From the news on Friday. A bus driver en route to a mental hospital in
Zimbabwe with 20 patients stopped at a waterhole for a few beers. On
his return to the bus he found all 20 patients had vanished. Undaunted
he stopped at the first bus stop and picked up 20 new (and unsuspecting)
passengers. He drove to the hospital as planned and handed over the
passengers, warning hospital personnel that his charges were
particularly vociferous.

Hospital staff were finally convinced about the real state of affairs
when the stories from all 20 passengers showed too many similarities.
They investigated and uncovered the truth. The real patients in the
meantime had disappeared permanently among the rural populace.

------------------------------

Date:    Tue, 13 May 1997 19:17:36 -0800
From:    Steven & Susan <sgarrett@NWRAIN.COM>
Subject: Elmo joke (cute)

Q.  What's the last thing a Tickle Me Elmo doll gets before it leaves
the factory?

A.  Two test tickles.

------------------------------

Date:    Wed, 14 May 1997 09:14:04 -0400
From:    Chalapathi Rao Poduri <chaps@TC4HQ.CMC.STPH.NET>
Subject: The Polly Nomial Story <clean>

 Once upon a time (1/T) pretty little Polly Nomial was strolling
 across a field of vectors when she came to the boundary of a
 singularly large matrix.
 Now Polly Nomial was convergent, and her mother had made it an
 absolute condition that she must never enter such an array without
 her brackets on.  Polly, however, who had changed her variables that
 morning and was feeling particularly badly behaved, ignored this
 condition on the basis that it was insufficient and made her way
 amongst the complex elements.
 Rows and columns closed in on her from all sides. Tangents approached
 her surface. She became tensor and tensor. Quite suddenly, two
 branches of a hyperbola touched at a single point. She oscillated
 violently, lost all sense of directorix, and went completely
 divergent. As she reached a turning point, she tripped over a square
 root that was protruding from the erf and plunged headlong down a
 steep gradient. When she rounded off once more, she found herself
 inverted apparently alone in a non-Euclidean space.
 She was being watched, however, by that smooth operator, Curly Pi,
 who was lurking inner product. As his eyes devoured her curvilinear
 coordinates, a singular expression crossed his face. He wondered, was
 she still convergent?  He decided to integrate improperly at once.
 Hearing a common fraction behind her, Polly rotated and saw Curly Pi
 approaching with his power series extrapolated.
 She could see at once by his degenerate conic and his dissipative
 terms that he was set for no good.
 "Arcsinh!" she gasped.
 "Ho, ho," he said. "What a symmetric little asymptote you have; I can
 see that your angles have lots of secs."
 "Oh, sir," she protested, "keep away from me. I haven't got my
 brackets on."
 "Calm yourself, my dear," said our suave operator, "Your fears are
 purely imaginary."
 "I, I," she thought, "Perhaps he's not normal, but homologous."
 "What order are you?" the brute demanded.
 "Seventeen," replied Polly.
 Curly leered. "I suppose you've never been operated on?"
 "Of course not," Polly replied quite properly, "I am absolutely
 convergent."
 "Come, come," said Curly Pi. Let's go off to a decimal place I know
 and I'll take you to the limit."
 "Never," gasped Polly.
 "Abscissa!" he swore, using the vilest oath he knew. His patience was
 gone.  Coshing her over the coefficient with a log until she was
 powerless, Curly removed her discontinuities. He stared at her
 significant places and began soothing her points of inflection. Poor
 Polly! The algorithmic method was now her only hope. She felt his
 hand tending to her asymptotic limit. Her convergence would soon be gone
 forever.
 There was no mercy, for Curly was a heavyside operator. Curly's
 radius squared itself; Polly's loci quivered. He integrated by parts.
 He integrated by partial fractions. After he cofactored, he performed
 Runge-Kutta on her.  The complex beast even went all the way around
 and did a contour integration.  What an indignity to be multiply
 connected on her first integration. Curly went on operating until he
 had satisfied his hypothesis, then he exponentiated and became
 completely orthogonal.
 When Polly got home that night, her mother noticed that she was no
 longer piece-wise continuous but had been truncated in several
 places. But it was too late to differentiate now. As the months went
 by, Polly's denominator increased monotonically. Finally she went to
 the hospital and generated a small but pathological function which
 left surds all over the place and drove Polly to seek analysis.

------------------------------

End of HUMOR Digest - 13 May 1997 to 14 May 1997
************************************************
