HUMOR Digest - 14 Apr 1999 to 15 Apr 1999
There are 12 messages totalling 577 lines in this issue.

Topics of the day:

  1. Rules for Dining Out
  2. There Oughta Be A Woid!
  3. Kiddie Sayings  (Part 2 of 2)
  4. Ad Campaigns That Went Astray
  5. Tax Time !!!
  6. Missouri loves company, but...  {political humor}
  7. Why is a ship called "she"? (Male chauvanist)
  8. Helpful Work Phrases
  9. The Flutist (Pun)
 10. Trash Day (Family - Clean)
 11. The Origin Of **** <adult>
 12. Top That

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Date:    Wed, 14 Apr 1999 04:53:08 -0400
From:    Jim Moore Jr <jimjr@QIS.NET>
Subject: Rules for Dining Out

* Rule number one: If you're traveling, never ever eat in any
  place called "Mom's" -- well, unless the only other places
  in town to dine are named "Eats" and "Dirty Harry's".
                           - - - - -

* Rule number two: If you've entered a restaurant in the "Little
  Italy" section of the town, and you've noticed all the waiters
  are wearing shoulder hostlers, you'd better just leave.
                           - - - - -

* Rule number three: If you're waiting in line to be seated at
  a nice restaurant, you can always figure a wait of two hours
  or a twenty -- whichever comes first.
                           - - - - -

* Rule number four: If you're given a choice of tables by the
  maitre d'hotel, my suggestion is that you always request one
  near a waiter.
                           - - - - -

* Rule number five: If you notice that the tablecloth and the
  napkins are made of a better material than any suit you own,
  you'd better hope your credit card is not maxed-out.
                           - - - - -

* Rule number six: If you're in a fancy restaurant & you find
  you cannot pronounce some dish on the menu, chances are you
  probably can't afford it either
                           - - - - -

* Rule number seven: If you've been served bread & rolls while
  awaiting your meal, and you find the place is using a cheap
  substitute for margarine, you'd probably better just leave.
                           - - - - -

* Rule number eight: If you notice a bottle of Maalox along with
  a variety of other antacids among the condiments on the table,
  you'd probably better not order anything spicy.

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

Date:    Wed, 14 Apr 1999 05:24:53 -0500
From:    "Don E. Z'Boray" <zboray@NEWBIE.NET>
Subject: There Oughta Be A Woid!

Randy W., A friend of mine in Los Angeles, put his mind to the oft-
experienced problem of facing modern situations for which there are
no existing words or phrases in the English language. The following
are his suggestions for some situations to which we might all be
able to relate ...

arachnoleptic fit, n:
    The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally
    walked through a spider web.

Beelzebug, n:
    Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom
    at 3 in the morning and cannot be cast out.

bozone, n:
    The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas
    penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign
    of breaking down at any time in the future.

cashtration, n:
    The act of buying a house, which renders the subject
    financially impotent for an indefinite period.

caterpallor, n:
    The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit
    you're eating.

dopelar effect, n:
    (1) The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when you come
        at them rapidly.
    (2) The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come
        at you rapidly.

extraterrestaurant, n:
    An eating place where you feel you've been abducted and
    experimented on.  Also known as ETry.

foreploy, n:
    Any misrepresentation or outright lie about yourself that leads
    to sex.

Grantartica, n:
    The cold, isolated place where arts companies without funding
    dwell.

intaxication, n:
    Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize
    it was your money to start with.

kinstirpation, n:
    A painful inability to get rid of relatives who come to visit.

lullabuoy, n:
    An idea that keeps floating into your head and prevents you
    from drifting off to sleep.


http://www.Newbie.NET/

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

Date:    Wed, 14 Apr 1999 06:27:06 -0400
From:    Bill Stebbins <bs16@CORNELL.EDU>
Subject: Kiddie Sayings  (Part 2 of 2)

My grandson was visiting one day when he asked, "Grandma, do
you know how you and God are alike?"

I mentally polished my halo while I asked, "No, how are we alike?"

"You're both old," he replied.
          *******************************

A little girl was diligently pounding away on her father's word
processor. She told him she was writing a story. "What's it about?"
he asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "I can't read."
          *******************************

I didn't know if my granddaughter had learned her colors yet, so I
decided to test her. I would point out something and ask what color
it was. She would tell me, and always she was correct. But it was
fun for me, so I continued. At last she headed for the door, saying
sagely, "Grandma, I think you should try to figure out some of
these yourself!"
          *******************************

A ten-year-old, under the tutelage of her grandmother, was becoming
quite knowledgeable about the Bible. Then one day she floored her
grandmother by asking, "Which Virgin was the mother of Jesus the
Virgin Mary or the King James Virgin?"
          *******************************

A Sunday school class was studying the Ten Commandments. They were
ready to discuss the last one. The teacher asked if anyone could
tell her what it was. Susie raised her hand, stood tall, & quoted,
"Thou shall not take the covers off the neighbor's wife.
          *******************************

This next one really happened in Corona, Ca with my son Austin's
best buddy Reece!

It was March 17, 1999 (St. Patrick's Day), and the supermarket was
bustling as normal.  Mom busy loading groceries onto the conveyer
belt with one year old in shopping cart and four year old son,
Reece, nearby. An older, grandpa type pinches Reece and tells him
he's not wearing green!

Reece, a bit stunned, quickly returns the pinch with a kick to the
shin of the elderly man and says, "Well, you're not wearing blue!".

By the way, I forgot to tell you that Reece loves to play cowboy,
and that particular day he was wearing his leather, pointed-toe
cowboy boots. OUCH!!!

          thanks to Steve Kilbride


http://www.people.cornell.edu/pages/bs16
http://members.xoom.com/bs16/

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

Date:    Wed, 14 Apr 1999 07:07:19 -0400
From:    Terry Galan <galante@MCMAIL.CIS.MCMASTER.CA>
Subject: Ad Campaigns That Went Astray

 1. Coors put its slogan, "Turn it loose," into Spanish, where it
    was read as "Suffer from diarrhea".

 2. Clairol introduced the "Mist Stick", a curling iron, into
    German only to find out that "mist" is slang for manure. Not
    too many people had a use for the "manure stick".

 3. An American T-shirt maker in Miami printed shirts for the
    Spanish market which promoted the Pope's visit. Instead of "I
    saw the Pope" (el Papa), the shirts read "I saw the potato" (la
    papa).

 4. Pepsi's "Come alive with the Pepsi Generation" translated into
    "Pepsi brings your ancestors back from the grave", in Chinese.

 5. When Gerber started selling baby food in Africa, they used the
    same packaging as in the US, with the beautiful Caucasian baby
    on the label. Later they learned that in Africa, companies
    routinely put pictures on the label of what's inside, since
    most people can't read.

 6. Frank Perdue's chicken slogan, "it takes a strong man to make a
    tender chicken" was translated into Spanish as "it takes an
    aroused man to make a chicken affectionate".

 7. The Coca-Cola name in China was first read as "Ke-kou-ke-la",
    meaning "Bite the wax tadpole" or "female horse stuffed with
    wax", depending on the dialect. Coke then researched 40,000
    characters to find a phonetic equivalent "ko-kou-ko-le",
    translating into "happiness in the mouth".

 8. When Parker Pen marketed a ball-point pen in Mexico, its ads
    were supposed to have read, "it won't leak in your pocket and
    embarrass you". Instead, the company thought that the word
    "embarazar" (to impregnate) meant to embarrass, so the ad read:
    "It won't leak in your pocket and make you pregnant". OOPS!

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

Date:    Wed, 14 Apr 1999 08:23:31 -0400
From:    Paul Benoit <pbenoit@SPEEDLINETECH.COM>
Subject: TAX TIME !!!

            April 15th is Tax Day in the USA.
         Here's some humor to help you through it
         ---------------------------------------

A businessman on his deathbed called his friend and said,
"Bill, I want you to promise me that when I die you will have
my remains cremated."

"And what," his friend asked, "do you want me to do with
your ashes?"

The businessman said, "Just put them in an envelope and mail
them to the Internal Revenue Service, and write on the envelope,
'Now you have everything'."
               ----------------------------

I just heard the most marvelous rumor of them all... that
Form 1040 has been found to cause cancer in laboratory rats!
               ----------------------------

A new arrival, about to enter a hospital, saw two white-coated
doctors searching through the flower beds.

"Excuse me," he said, "have you lost something?"

"No," replied one of the doctors. "We're doing a heart transplant
for an income-tax inspector and need to find a suitable stone."
               ----------------------------

Dear IRS,
   I would like to cancel my subscription.
   Please remove me from your mailing list.
               ----------------------------

Called in for an audit, the young man was confronted by a surly IRS
agent.

"It says here, Mr. Briggs, that you are a bachelor, and yet you
claim a dependent son. Surely this must be a mistake...?"

Looking him straight in the eye, Mr. Briggs replied, "Yup, it
surely was."
               ----------------------------

Intaxication:
Euphoria at getting a refund from the IRS, which lasts
until you realize it was your money to start with.
               ----------------------------

Thank God for the IRS  -  Without them I'd be stinking rich!

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

Date:    Wed, 14 Apr 1999 09:58:38 -0400
From:    Jim Mica <jmica@ITHACA.EDU>
Subject: Missouri loves company, but... (political humor}

TIME magazine, April 19th
"Winners and Losers"  (As a Loser)

CHARLTON  HESTON
N.R.A. head loses state ballot on concealed weapons.
Next up: Missouri overrun by locusts?

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

Date:    Wed, 14 Apr 1999 10:51:52 -0400
From:    rlb <rlb@DORUK.COM.TR>
Subject: Why is a ship called "she"? (Male chauvanist)

(Found on the wall of an office in the naval academy where I teach
 a few classes:)

Why is a ship called "she"?

A ship is called "she" because there is always a great deal of
bustle about her; there is usually a gang of men about; she has a
waist and stays; it takes a lot of paint to keep her good-looking;
it is not the initial expense that breaks you, it is the upkeep;
she can be all decked out; it takes an experienced man to handle
her correctly, and without a man at the helm, she is absolutely
uncontrollable. She shows her topsides, hides her bottom and, when
coming into port, always heads for the buoys.

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

Date:    Wed, 14 Apr 1999 21:11:27 -0400
From:    Gwen Eckman <gwen@CE.UDEL.EDU>
Subject: Helpful Work Phrases

 1) Thank you. We're all refreshed and challenged by your unique
    point of view.

 2) The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an
    artist.

 3) I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to
    pronounce.

 4) Any connection between your reality and mine is purely
    coincidental.

 5) I have plenty of talent and vision. I just don't give a damn.

 6) I like you. You remind me of when I was young and stupid.

 7) What am I? Flypaper for freaks!?

 8) I'm not being rude. You're just insignificant.

 9) I'm already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth.

10) Ahhh, I see the f**k-up fairy has visited us again.

11) I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about
    you.

12) It's a thankless job, but I've got a lot of Karma to burn off.

13) Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely
    ceremonial.

14) No, my powers can only be used for good.

15) How about never? Is never good for you?

16) I'm really easy to get along with once you people learn to
    worship me.

17) You sound reasonable... Time to up my medication.

18) I'll try being nicer if you'll try being smarter.

19) I'm out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message.

20) I don't work here. I'm a consultant.

21) Who me? I just wander from room to room.

22) My toys! My toys! I can't do this job without my toys!

23) It might look like I'm doing nothing, but at the cellular level
    I'm really quite busy.

24) At least I have a positive attitude about my destructive
    habits.

25) You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers.

26) I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself
    in public.

27) Someday, we'll look back on this, laugh nervously and change
    the subject.

          --forwarded by a friend

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

Date:    Wed, 14 Apr 1999 18:10:25 -0700
From:    Stan Kegel <kegel@FEA.NET>
Subject: The Flutist (Pun)

The bushmen of the Kalahari eke out their existance by hunting and
gathering. On one particular day, a woman & her young son wandered
far from their encampment in search of edible roots. While foraging
among some cracks in the dry earth, she stirred up a nest of
scorpions, sustaining several stings in the process. These proved
fatal in a matter of minutes, leaving her bushbaby to fend for
himself.

After the longest possible wait, the child meandered off in search
of his people. He never found them. Rather, he was found by a small
Bantu hunting party which took the child back to their village. In
time, the boy became accepted as a member of the tribe. Upon
attaining manhood, since he was a bushbaby and also was found in
bushes, he was given the tribal name of Bush.

The tribe lived in an area through which wildebeest made their
annual migration. This had been a major source of worry for the
tribe, because the neighboring warlords demanded tribute based on
the number of animals which passed through its boundaries.

One day while at the river bank, Bush picked up a few reeds and
fashioned a flute. After making one, he fashioned a few more. He
noticed that three wildebeests were beside him making for the
river.

Without thinking, he placed the reeds on his lips and blew. The
sounds made by several reeds being blown at the same time struck a
particularly discordant note to the animal's ears. They stampeded
away, colliding with one another in their race across the river.

Bush thought long and hard about this. If he could refine the
technique of positioning the several reeds in his mouth and making
the same musical sounds, perhaps he could frighten away the
wildebeests and eliminate for his village the dreaded tribute
demanded by the warlords. He decided it was worth a try.

Some weeks later, a villager sighted the first of a long line of
wildebeests leading the trek of his tribe on their migration. The
villagers gathered to watch. Each had a long face, unhappy about
the impending tribute they would have to pay. Into the crowd strode
Bush, refined reed flutes in his hand. Thereupon, he loudly
declared... "Lip my reeds, no gnu taxes!"

          --by Gilbert Krebs

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

Date:    Wed, 14 Apr 1999 23:55:03 EDT
From:    Lacey Hoedl <Wit49727@AOL.COM>
Subject: Trash Day (Family - Clean)

Every Wednesday morning for the past nine years, my wife has
interrupted the usual flow of chaos by shrieking, "oh my gosh, it's
trash day!"  The children, all three of whom are in various stages
of school preparation, react to this statement as if she has just
spoken Romanian, stopping & staring at her in numb incomprehension.
"Hurry!"  my wife urges them.

Being obedient children, they immediately proceed to hurry.
However, with no specific instructions beyond that, they don't seem
to be hurrying to do anything in particular -- certainly, trash
collection is in no way involved. They bump into each other in the
hallway a lot, shouting at each other to "get out of the way!"

"Gather up all the garbage!"  my wife and I command.  The kids
respond by forming a committee to debate the fairness of this
directive.  After a brief discussion, they reach the consensus that
everyone should be held responsible for his or her "own" junk.  As
corollary to this absurd principle, they initiate an anthropologic
study into the contents of each receptacle.  For example, since the
parents cook, most of the trash under the sink is "theirs."  My
oldest daughter haughtily declares that she "never" throws anything
away.  My son, checking through the downstairs trash can to gather
evidence that he's not accountable for that one, begins to feel
remorse over some of the things he's discarded, and starts pulling
items out.

"We're running late!"  my wife warns.  This could be our Official
Family Motto.

I recently purchased a shredder for my confidential documents, only
to discover I don't have any confidential documents.   However, a
fifteen-year-old girl's entire life is cause for secrecy, and I can
hear her using the device now, grinding up correspondence from her
friends in school.  "We don't have time for that!"  I tell her.  A
few minutes later, my son joins her and begins shredding what
sounds like a potato.

The school bus chugs by, and I pick up the phone to call the
attendance line.  "For absences, press 1," the recording tells me.
"For late arrivals, press 2.  If you're the Camerons calling
because it's trash day, press 3."

"We're pigs," my oldest daughter announces.  I regard her warily.
"We throw away too much stuff."

"It would be better just to dump it all on the floor in your
bedroom like you do," I agree.

Despite my expectations, a single garbage can has now found its way
to the curb.  My son places it in the center of the driveway, so
that no one will be able to drive to work.  A gusty wind blows an
empty milk jug out of the container and into the woods.  My boy
responds with the reflexes of a glacier, watching the carton bounce
away.

I open the door.  "Hey!"  I tell him.  "Go get that!"

He stares at me blankly.  "The milk jug!"  I yell.

"Oh, okay, Dad!" he responds cheerfully.  Having seen his bus pass
by has put him in a euphoric mood.  He picks up a second plastic
milk container and, to my amazement, tosses it into the wind,
jubilantly clapping his hands as it flies into the trees.

"Why did you do that?"  I shriek.

"Well it seemed like a waste of time to go after just one!"  he
responds logically.  He'll make someone a fine husband someday.

All week long my children have been denying that the kitchen trash
needs to be emptied, jumping up and down on the contents to
compress them.  As a result, when I drag the plastic container from
under the sink, it weighs as much as a collapsed star.  I wrestle
it to the end of the driveway and the neighborhood dogs trot up to
see what the Camerons will have on the breakfast buffet this
morning.

My daughter is right; we do throw too much stuff away.  By the time
we're finished, we've dragged so much junk out to the end of my
driveway it resembles the inside of my garage.  The shredder falls
silent and the kids go to school, and what passes for peace at the
Cameron house settles over the morning.  Until next Wednesday.


Copyright 1999 W. Bruce Cameron
http://www.wbrucecameron.com

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

Date:    Thu, 15 Apr 1999 09:45:26 -0400
From:    Chalapathi Rao Poduri <chaps@TC4HQ.CMCLTD.COM>
Subject: The Origin Of **** <adult>

Did you know?...

In ancient England people could not have sex unless they had
consent of the king (unless they were in the Royal Family ). When
people wanted to have a baby, they had to get the consent of the
king, and the king gave them a placard that they hung on their door
while they were having sex.

The placard had F.U.C.K. (Fornication Under Consent of the King) on
it
 
Hence that's where the word F**k came from. Now, aren't you glad
you learned something new today ?

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

Date:    Wed, 14 Apr 1999 21:10:08 -0700
From:    Keith Sullivan <KSullivan@WORLDNET.ATT.NET>
Subject: Top That

Stephen Sprenger, who owns the H&R Block on Denny Way [Seattle],
says it's that time of year:  the time for ceiling deductions. 
Ceiling deductions?

Sprenger says, "You ask how many miles the client drove and he
looks at the ceiling and says, 'About 8,000.'"

          --Jean Godden
            The Seattle Times

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

End of HUMOR Digest - 14 Apr 1999 to 15 Apr 1999
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