HUMOR Digest - 29 Sep 1998 to 30 Sep 1998
There are 13 messages totalling 556 lines in this issue.
 
Topics of the day:
 
  1. Choosing A Profession <clean,lengthy>
  2. Cars
  3. alarm clocks
  4. This Explains It All???!!! (mature)
  5. Cows
  6. Humor:Clinton,Flowers..suggestive
  7. Windy <adult>
  8. All the President's Dolls
  9. Jerry Seinfeld
 10. Pierre - the French Fighter Pilot
 11. Accounting 1-A (Pun)
 12. The construction team
 13. Cricket -- The Future <adult>
 
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Date:    Tue, 29 Sep 1998 13:18:12 -0400
From:    Chalapathi Rao Poduri <chaps@TC4HQ.CMCLTD.COM>
Subject: Choosing A Profession <clean,lengthy>
 
Last weekend, I had been to a friend's place for a dinner.  After
the dinner while chatting, I noticed a notebook of his 12 year old
son.  I picked it up and casually started browsing through it. It
seems that was his personal essay notebook. I could see different
essays there, but the one in particular attracted my attention was:
 
               - I want to be a Programmer -
 
There are different professions which one can choose when one grows
up. Some become doctors, some engineers, some lawyers and some
leaders. When I was a little boy, I wanted to be a traffic
policeman.  It was a thrill to watch one man controlling the
whole traffic. But now a days, as they have replaced them with the
traffic signals, I guess, no thrill is left in that profession now.
 
For a while, I was thinking of becoming a lawyer, but now a days,
every time I watch TV, I hear the opposition leaders say, "There is
no law and order in this country", I doubt, what would I do as a
lawyer in the country where there is no law ? Some time back, I
wanted to become a Prime Minister, but then again there is a
question of what to do after my turn ends within 6-7 months ? That
narrows me down to only two good options, a Doctor or a Programmer.
 
Rahul is my new friend. His father is Programmer. He is a rich man.
Most of the things in his home are imported.  Rahul tells me that,
his father was in America when Rahul was born. Rahul wants to be a
programmer like his father.  He says, its the only profession where
you get a lot of money without working really hard. I couldn't
quite understand that though. Rahul tells me that, Raju's father is
not a good man.  He has a destructive mind. ( Raju's father is
colleague of Rahul's father and is a 'Tester'.)
 
(The following paragraph was scratched, but with a lot of efforts I
could read it.)  Rahul's father is not at all working when he says,
he is working. Yesterday, when I quietly went into his room and
glanced at his computer, I found out that, he was looking at some
dirty pictures. When I tried to confront Rahul with this and asked
him, is this the kind of work a Programmer does when he works ?
Rahul calmly replied, "What about your own father ? First thing he
asks people to do is to undress when he starts working."  I had no
answer to that. (My father is a Doctor.)
 
Rahul further told me that, there are some dirty things like this
in every Profession. Even President of America has to some dirty
things with his Interns. Sometimes I think, Rahul is right. I don't
like Doctors. They are bad. My father enjoys giving injections to
people. Even my mother cannot escape from his cruelty. I have
decided, I am never going to be a Doctor.
 
It seems there are two types of Programmers. Some are Y2K
programmers and others are just Programmers.  Rahul tells me that,
the future of Y2K programmers is bad. He thinks, after year 2000,
they don't have any future till 9998. I am not sure how does he
know that. Rahul is quite sure that, Sanju's father (a Y2K
programmer ) will become a compounder at my father's office in year
2000.
 
An interesting thing I have noticed about these Programmers is
that, they are paid, even rewarded for the mistakes which they
correct later. After talking to Rahul, I came to know this. There
is something called a 'Bug' which is actually a mistake done by the
Programmer during his work. Later when 'Tester' finds it or
customer reports it, Programmer fixes it. The Programmers fixing
some 'critical' bugs are even rewarded for that.  I think this is
cool !  I think, if Clinton were a Programmer rather than a
President, he would have got a free trip to Switzerland alone with
Monica, after 'correcting' his own mistake. Isn't it cool ?

On the other hand, when my father made a mistake during one of his
operations and operated on the right kidney of a patient instead of
left, he was sued and ultimately fined for that. Amazing is the
world of Programmers really !  Plus Rahul tells me there are two
special privileges for every programmer, an e-mail account and an
Internet access.  Rahul thinks that, programmers are using these
two privileges exclusively for dirty things, but I have decided to
use those for really useful and good purposes, when I will become a
Programmer.  I want to work very hard (not like Rahul's father)
when I become a Programmer. But Rahul suggests me, if I want to
work hard, I need to find some other profession. Anyway, I still
want to become a Programmer.
 
------------------------------
 
Date:    Tue, 29 Sep 1998 04:11:42 -0400
From:    Jim Moore Jr <jimjr@QIS.NET>
Subject: Cars
 
* Hopefully, the price of new cars has peaked.  Good thing too. I
  mean most dealers have a showroom and a recovery room as it is.
                             - - - - -
 
* For an auto mechanic, frustration is having a pound of grease on
  both hands and no upholstery to wipe them on.
                             - - - - -
 
* I think a lot of trouble with the new cars is the bucket seats --
  not everyone has the same size bucket.
                             - - - - -
 
* You can tell the Japanese economy is suffering just by their
  new cars.  My neighbor bought one.  The first time he washed it,
  it shrunk from midsize to compact.
                             - - - - -
 
* My neighbor bought the car in the first place because of the
  huge rebates offered.  The car's pretty smooth, but the rebate
  check keeps bouncing.
                             - - - - -
 
* You can often get a good price on a car with one of those "Take
  over the payments" ads you see in the newspapers.  Only problem
  is most of them are 1980's models.
                             - - - - -
 
* I guess the biggest problem I face with both my Mazda and Mrs
  JimJr aging is getting the car started in the morning, and her
  started at nite.
                             - - - - -
 
* I don't see the sense of increasing horsepower and top speed in
  the new cars with traffic the way it is.  The other week on an
  Interstate highway, I had to leave the car twice to make
  payments.
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Indexed UGA Humor Digests 1997-1998:
     (text)  www2.crosswinds.net/baltimore/~jimjr
      (zip)  www.geocities.com/BourbonStreet/6293
 
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------------------------------
 
Date:    Tue, 29 Sep 1998 11:20:59 +0300
From:    Leo Heler <leopold@ACID.MATCO.RO>
Subject: alarm clocks
 
    This morning I had to get up really early (again!), so I set
the damn alarm clock. This was the radio type, which, at a given
time would start the radio. I had several types of alarm clocks and
this seems to be the best.
    The first one, when I was really small was the sun. When it was
light in the room, I used to wake up. Then, they sent me to school,
and I had to wake up earlier. I got an old fashioned, mechanic,
hammer-between-two-big-bells alarm clock. It was fine for me, but
it had the disadvantage that it would wake up the whole building.
    The sound was like doomsday. After a short time, they changed
the clock. It was a good move, since the whole family went on
Prozac because of the clock.
     So, I got that electronic, three-tunes, alarm clock. This was
fine. First melody meant: six 'o clock, go to high school and play
basketball; the court won't be to crowded. The second tune, it was:
seven 'o clock, go and be prepared to wait in order to play. The
third, it was nine 'o clock, run for the math annual examination. I
still have that clock, but I can't use it. I can't stand those
tunes anymore. They are so associated with the idea of waking up,
that I simply (and desperately) hate them.
    This radio alarm clock is much better. The tune is not the
same, and the only thing that I got to hate was the morning show.
But there is a great disadvantage about this little fellow: the
snooze button. Why the hell they put it there for? If I set the
clock for 5:00 AM that's because I WANNA wake up that early. Now,
waking up is like that: 5:00 AM. Radio tune. My hand hits the
snooze. ZZZzzz. 5:10. Snooze. 5:20 Snooze. And so on, until I
eventually get late.
    There is one more thing about the alarms: they should be swift,
revigorating, not funeral marches or something. A year and sometime
ago, I was on the mountain with this friend of mine, on a very
difficult winter mountain crossing. The weather was bad, so we
stopped at a shelter, decided that we'll wake up in the morning and
check the weather. My watch was a Casio with altimeter and three
<bee-beep> alarms, which wakes me up all the time. He, he had got
what athletic coaches wear: an alarm chronograph, the type that
hangs from your neck. Manufactured somewhere in Taiwan, I suppose.
    Well, the sound was <beep pause beep pause> and so on. There
were five or more seconds between the beeps. His watch went
beeping, before mine. Well, I woke up at the first beep, than I
felt asleep. Five seconds later Beep. Awake. Asleep. Awake. Asleep.
And that kept until my watch started beeping!
 
------------------------------
 
Date:    Tue, 29 Sep 1998 07:06:14 -0400
From:    Terry Galan <galante@MCMAIL.CIS.MCMASTER.CA>
Subject: This Explains It All???!!! (mature)
 
ALL BABIES start out with the same number of raw cells which,
over nine months, develop into a complete female baby. The problem
occurs when the cells are instructed by the little chromosomes to
make a male baby instead. Because there are only so many cells to
go around, the cells necessary to develop a male's reproductive
organs have to come from cells already assigned elsewhere in the
female. Recent tests have shown that these cells are removed from
the communications center of the brain, migrate lower in the body
and develop into male sexual organs.
 
If you visualize a normal brain to be similar to a full deck of
cards, this means that males are born a few cards short, so to
speak. And some of their cards are in their shorts. This difference
between the male and female brain manifests itself in various ways.
 
Little girls will tend to play things like house or learn to read.
Little boys, however, will tend to do things like placing a bucket
over their heads and running into walls. Little girls will think
about doing things before taking any action. Little boys will just
punch or kick something and will look surprised if someone asks
them why they just punched their little brother who was half asleep
and looking the other way. This basic cognitive difference
continues to grow until puberty, when the hormones kick into action
and the trouble really begins.
 
After puberty, not only the size of the male and female brains
differ, but the center of thought also differs. Women think with
their heads. Male thoughts often originate lower in their bodies
where their ex-brain cells reside. Of course, the size of this
problem varies from man to man. In some men only a small number of
brain cells migrate and they are left with nearly full mental
capacity but they tend to be rather dull, sexually speaking. Such
men are known in medical terms as "Republicans." Other men suffer
larger brain cell relocation. These men are medically referred to
as "Democrats." A small number of men suffer massive brain cell
migration to their groins. These men are usually referred to as...
"Mr. President."
 
------------------------------
 
Date:    Tue, 29 Sep 1998 08:59:21 -0400
From:    Bill Stebbins <bs16@CORNELL.EDU>
Subject: Cows
 
A town in Poland had only one cow and it stopped giving milk. The
townspeople did a little research and discovered they could get a
cow from Moscow for 2000 rubles - or one from Minsk for only 1000
rubles. So, naturally, --- they got the cow from Minsk.
 
It was a great cow had a wonderful disposition, and gave lots of
milk and lots of cream. Everybody loved it dearly. The people
decided they would mate the cow and get more cows like it, and then
they would never have to worry about their milk supply again.
 
So they got a bull and led the cow and the bull into the pasture.
When the bull came in from the right to mount the cow, the cow
moved to the left. When the bull moved in to mount the cow from the
left, the cow moved to the right. This went on all day.
 
Finally, in desperation, the people decided to go ask the rabbi
what to do. After all he was very wise.
 
They told him the story. "Rabbi, we've tried all day to mate our
cow. When the bull moves in from the right the cow moves left and
when the bull moves in from the left the cow moves to the right.
What do we do?"
 
The Rabbi thought a moment and asked, "Did you buy this cow from
Minsk?"
 
"Rabbi!" they replied as one, "You are so wise! We never said we
bought the cow from Minsk. How did you know that?"
 
The Rabbi said, sadly, "My wife is from Minsk."
 
 
http://www.people.cornell.edu/pages/bs16
http://members.xoom.com/bs16/
 
------------------------------
 
Date:    Tue, 29 Sep 1998 09:32:37 EST
From:    JD STONE <jstone@EMH1.LEAD.ARMY.MIL>
Subject: Humor:Clinton,Flowers..suggestive
 
Have you heard that Jennifer Flowers was asked if she had a
'similar' experience like Lewinski had with Clinton?
 
She said 'Close, but no cigar.'
 
------------------------------
 
Date:    Tue, 29 Sep 1998 13:11:59 -0400
From:    Paul Benoit <Paul_Benoit@SPEEDLINE.COOKSON.COM>
Subject: Windy <adult>
 
An American was waiting on a London street corner.
An attractive English girl was passing by when a gust
of wind blew her dress above her waist.
"A bit airy..." remarked the American.
Hearing this, the Cockney girl replied indignantly,
" 'ell yes!  What did you expect - feathers?!"
 
------------------------------
 
Date:    Tue, 29 Sep 1998 16:52:15 -0500
From:    Les Pourciau at UMem <POURCIAU@LATTE.MEMPHIS.EDU>
Subject: All the President's Dolls
 
And you can own your own set! Go to
http://www.treasuresfromrussia.com
and scroll down to "All the President's Dolls." Click there and you
will see them all!  Hurry and don't miss this opportunity!
 
------------------------------
 
Date:    Tue, 29 Sep 1998 19:10:13 EDT
From:    Sue Sevin <SueS7@AOL.COM>
Subject: Jerry Seinfeld
 
Misc. Jerry Seinfeld from his book "SeinLanguage"
 
I will never understand why they cook on TV.
         I can't smell it.
         Can't eat it.
         Can't taste it.
The end of the show they hold it up to the camera, "Well, here it
is. You can't have any. Thanks for watching. Goodbye."
 
Sunday paper is the worst.  Weekend.  You want to relax.  "Oh, by
the way, here's a thousand pages of information you had no idea
about."  How can they tell you everything they know every single
day of the week and then have this much left over on Sunday when
nothing's going on?
 
Fear of success is one of the new fears I've heard about lately.
And I think it's definately a sign that we're running out of fears.
A person suffering from fear of success is scraping the bottom of
the fear barrel.  Are we going to need AA-type meetings for these
people? They get up to the microphone and go, "Hi, my name is bill
and I can't stand the thought of having a stereo and a cream
colored couch."
 
According to most studies, people's number one fear is public
speaking. Number two is death.  Death is number two.  Does that
seem right?  That means to the average person, if you have to go to
a funeral, you're better off in the casket than doing the eulogy.
 
------------------------------
 
Date:    Tue, 29 Sep 1998 19:28:21 -0400
From:    Steve and Cindy <atlas@EZNET.NET>
Subject: Pierre - the French Fighter Pilot
 
   Pierre, a French fighter pilot, took his girlfriend, Marie out
for a pleasant little picnic by the river Seine. It's a beautiful
day and love was in the air so Marie leaned over to Pierre and
said, "Pierre, kiss me!"
   So our hero grabbed a bottle of red wine and splashed it on
Marie's lips.  "What are you doing, Pierre?" shrieked Marie.
   "Well, my name is Pierre, the French fighter pilot, and when I
have red meat I like to have red wine!"
   His answer was good enough for Marie and things began to heat
up. So she said, "Pierre, kiss me lower."
   Our hero ripped off her blouse, grabbed a bottle of white wine
and starts pouring it all over her breasts. "Pierre, what are you
doing?!"
   "My name is Pierre, the French fighter pilot, and when I have
white meat I like to have white wine!"
   They resumed their passionate interlude and things really steam
up. Marie leaned over once more and softly whispered into Pierre's
ear, "Pierre, kiss me lower."
   Pierre tore off her underwear, grabbed a bottle of Cognac and
sprinkled it all over her groin. He took a match and lit it on
fire.  Patting the flames out furiously, Marie screamed, "PIERRE!
WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!?"
   "My name is Pierre, the French Fighter Pilot, and when I go
down, I go down in flames!"
 
------------------------------
 
Date:    Tue, 29 Sep 1998 20:27:39 -0800
From:    Stan Kegel <kegel@FEA.NET>
Subject: Accounting 1-A (Pun)
 
In the days before calculators, accountants were frequently unable
to get their debits to balance with their credits. So, in order to
over-come the discrepancy, they often created a bogus account
entitled  "Taste" to store the unbalanced amount and allow the
books to balance. Unfortunately, the government soon heard of this
practice, and declared a new law: that there would, from this point
on...  be no accounting for Taste.
 
------------------------------
 
Date:    Wed, 30 Sep 1998 04:37:27 +0100
From:    Catweasel <catweasel@CATWEASEL.ORG>
Subject: The construction team
 
PRESIDENT
leaps tall buildings with a single bound
is more powerful than a locomotive
is faster then a speeding bullet
walks on water
gives policy to God
 
VICE PRESIDENT
leaps short buildings in a single bound
is more powerful than a switch engine
is just as fast as a speeding bullet
walks on water (if the sea is calm)
talks with God
 
PROJECT MANAGER
leaps short buildings with a running start and a favourable wind
is almost as powerful as a switch engine
is faster than a speeding BB
walks on water in an indoor pool
talks with God if a special request is approved
 
ESTIMATOR
barely clears a quonset hut
loses tug-of-war with a caboose
can fire a speeding bullet
is occasionally addressed by God
 
ENGINEER
makes marks on walls trying to jump over them
recognises locomotives two out of three times
can sometimes handle a gun without inflicting self injury
dog paddles
talks to animals (but they can't understand him)
 
ARCHITECT
runs into buildings
says, "look at the choo-choo"
is not issued live ammunition
can stay afloat with a life jacket
talks to walls (which understand him perfectly well)
 
INSPECTOR
falls over doorstep when entering a building
is run over by locomotives
wets himself with a water pistol
plays in mud puddles
mumbles to himself
 
JOB FOREMAN
lifts buildings and walks under them
kicks locomotives off the tracks
catches speeding bullets in his teeth and eats them
freezes water with a single glance
he IS God
 
 
http://www.catweasel.org
 
------------------------------
 
Date:    Wed, 30 Sep 1998 09:42:04 -0400
From:    Chalapathi Rao Poduri <chaps@TC4HQ.CMCLTD.COM>
Subject: Cricket -- The Future <adult>
 
Hi everybody, with many games like tennis being played by both men
and women (mixed doubles) - the day is not far off when cricket is
played by both men and women together....
 
When that happens, the commentary COULD be like this:
 
"She walks in and takes her position.  She makes sure that she is
mentally prepared for the long session that she is to endure
without wearing out.
 
His objective was to wear her out.  He could go on for hours
without getting tired.  He had this practice of rubbing the balls
against his pants before he started.  It was his way of making
sure that the balls were sufficiently lubricated so that they slide
gently over the field.  Now he looks like he is sufficiently
charged.
 
He comes in and without much ado, she wields the bat.  She looks
like she is ready to take him.  She tightens her grip of the bat,
squeezing it and moving it up and down.
 
He tries to take charge by coming into her with full force. But
then, she takes full control of the proceedings, effortlessly
stroking him over point and deep fine leg.
 
As time elapses and she keeps stroking him, she realizes that he is
getting harder and harder and more difficult to stop. It gets
really hot and both of them are really sweating it out.
 
She has a wierd position and faces him with her legs spread apart.
He consistently finds the gap between her legs.  Every now and then
he taunts her by asking "Howzzat?".
 
Her control over the whole situation isn't as good as she would
like it to be.  She was loosing her strength.  She wanted to adjust
her position before he came.  She knew that he was gonna come
anytime then.  To heighten her misery, she wasn't wearing any
protective guard.
 
But, there was nothing she could do about it now.  Finally, the
inevitable had to happen.  It was more of an accident than an
accident.
 
She was bed-ridden for the next 10 months and all she could think
of was the day of the delivery."
 
------------------------------
 
End of HUMOR Digest - 29 Sep 1998 to 30 Sep 1998
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