The racing-car driver picked up a girl after a race, went home with her and took her to bed

Home Thoughts for Everyday Life Back Next

While undressing for bed one night, ol' Bill notices something like a red rash around his penis. Alarmed, he thinks, "I can't let Hilary see this!" and decides to get to his doctor at the Bethesda Naval Hospital the next day.

"Doc" he says, "I've got this red ring around my... you know. What is it and how do I get rid of it?" The doctor says, "Well, I'm not exactly sure what it is but take these pills for a week and see if that takes care of it. If not, come back and we'll try something else."

Bill takes the pills for a week but unfortunately, the red ring is still there after seven days. He goes back to his doctor and tells him that the pills hadn't helped. So the doctor prescribes another medication, capsules this time, and gives him the same instructions. "Take them for a week and come back if the situation doesn't improve."

Bill takes the capsules for a week and damn, the red ring is still there after seven days. So he goes back to his doctor and asks, "What next?" The doctor gives him a cream in a tube this time. "Rub this on every day for a week and let me know."

After a week, Bill goes back to the doctor and says, "Great news, doc! The rash is gone! That stuff in the tube was wonderful. What was it?" The doctor replies, "Lipstick remover."

A minister dies and is waiting in line at the Pearly Gates. Ahead of him is a guy wearing sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket, and jeans.

Saint Peter addresses this guy, "Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you into the Kingdom of Heaven?"

The guy replies, "I'm Joe Cohen, taxi-driver, of Noo Yawk City."

Saint Peter consults his list. He smiles and says to the taxi-driver, "Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven."

The taxi-driver goes into Heaven with his robe and staff, and it's the minister's turn. He stands erect and booms out, "I am Joseph Snow, pastor of Saint Mary's for the last forty-three years."

Saint Peter consults his list. He says to the minister, "Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven."

"Just a minute," says the minister. "That man was a taxi-driver, and he gets a silken robe and golden staff. How can this be?"

"Up here, we work by results," says Saint Peter. "While you preached, people slept; while he drove, people prayed."

Bedroom Golf

Each player shall furnish his own equipment for play, normally one club and two balls.
Course played on must be approved by the owner of the hole.
Unlike outdoor golf, the object is to get the club in the hole and keep the balls out of the hole.
For most effective play, the club should have a firm shaft. Course owners are permitted to check shaft stiffness before play begins.
Course owners reserve the right to restrict the length of the club to avoid damage to the hole.
The object of the game is to take as many strokes as necessary until the course owner is satisfied that the play is complete. Failure to do so may result in being denied permission to play the course again!
It is considered bad form to begin playing the hole immediately upon arrival at the course. The experienced player will normally take time to admire the entire course, with special attention to well formed bunkers.
Players are cautioned not to mention other courses they have played on or are currently playing, to the owner of the course being played. Upset course owners have been known to damage a player's equipment for this reason.
Players are encouraged to have proper rain gear along, just in case.
Players should assure themselves that their match has been properly scheduled, particularly when a new course is being played on for the first time. Previous players have been known to become irate if they discover someone else playing what they consider to be a private course.
Players should not assume a course is in shape for play at all times. Some players may be embarrassed if they find the course to be temporarily under repair. Players are advised to be extremely tactful in this situation. More advanced players will find alternate means of play when this is the case.
Players are advised to obtain the course owner's permission before attempting to play the back nine.
Slow play is encouraged; however, players should be prepared to proceed at a quicker pace, at least temporarily, at the course owners request.
It is considered outstanding performance, time permitting, to play the same hole several times in one match.
The course owner will be the sole judge of who is the best player.

Players are advised to think twice before considering membership at a give course. Additional assessments may be levied by the course owner and the rules are subject to change at any time. For this reason, many players prefer to continue playing on several different courses.

M E M O R A N D U M

to: all employees

from: management

subject: BUSINESS TALK

date: 8/11/00

cc: all hod

It has been brought to management's attention that some individuals throughout the company have been using foul language during the course of normal conversation with their coworkers. Due to complaints received from some employees who may be easily offended, this type of language will no longer be tolerated.

We do however realize the critical importance of being able to accurately express your feelings when communicating with coworkers, therefore, a list of preferred new phrases has been provided so that proper exchange of ideas and information can continue in an effective manner without risk of offending our more sensitive employees.

PREFERRED: Perhaps I can work late
OLD: When the fuck do you expect me to do this?

PREFERRED: Perhaps you should check with ...
OLD: Tell someone who gives a shit

PREFERRED: Of course I'm concerned
OLD: Ask me if I give a shit

PREFERRED: I wasn't involved in that project
OLD: Its not my fucking problem

PREFERRED: I'm not sure I can implement this
OLD: Fuck it, it won't work

PREFERRED: I'll try to schedule that
OLD: Why the hell didn't you tell me sooner

PREFERRED: Are you sure this is a problem
OLD: Who the fuck cares

PREFERRED: He's not familiar with the problem
OLD: He's got his head up his ass

PREFERRED: So you weren't happy with it?
OLD: Kiss my ass

PREFERRED: I'm a bit overloaded at this moment
OLD: Fuck it, I'm on salary

PREFERRED: I don't think you understand
OLD: Shove it up your ass

PREFERRED: I love a challenge
OLD: This job sucks

PREFERRED: I see
OLD: Blow me

PREFERRED: Yes, we really should discuss it
OLD: Another fucking meeting!!!!

PREFERRED: I don't think this will be a problem
OLD: I really don't give a shit

PREFERRED: He's somewhat insensitive
OLD: He's a fucking prick

PREFERRED: She's an aggressive go getter
OLD: She's a ball busting bitch

PREFERRED: I think you could use more training
OLD: You don't know what the fuck you're doing

Your co-operation in this matter will be greatly appreciated.

Regards,

Management.

'Twas The Night Before Y2K

'Twas the night before Y2K and, all through the nation,
We awaited the bug--the millennium sensation.
The chips were replaced in computers with care
In hopes that old "bugsy" wouldn't stop there.
While some folks would think they were snug in their beds,
Others had visions of dread in their heads.
And Ma, with her PC, and I, with my Mac
Had just logged on the 'net and kicked back with a snack.
When, over the server there arose such a clatter,
I called Mr. Gates to see what was the matter.
But he was away, so I flew like a flash...
Off to the bank to withdraw all my cash.
When what, to my wondering eyes, should I see--
My good old Mac looked sick to me.
The hack of all hackers was looking so smug,
I knew that it must be the Y2K bug.
His image downloaded in no time at all.
He whistled and shouted, "Let all systems fall!
Go Intel, go Gateway, now HP, Big Blue,
Go everything--Compaq and Pentium, too.
All processors big, all processors small...
Crash away, crash away, crash away all!"
All the controls the planes need for their flight,
All microwaves, trains, and all traffic lights.
As I drew in my breath and was turning around
Out from the modem he came with a bound,
He was covered in fur and, slung on his back
Was a sack full of virus, set for attack.
His eyes--how they twinkled, his dimples--how merry,
His midnight approach, though, soon became scary.
He had a broad little face and a round little belly
And a sack full of virus that quivered like jelly.
He was chubby and plump, perpetually grinning.
I laughed when I saw him, though my hard-drive stopped spinning.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know a new feeling of dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work.
He changed all the clocks, then turned with a jerk.
With a twitch of his nose and a quick little wink
All things electronic soon went on the blink.
He zoomed from my system to the next folks online.
He caused such a disruption; could this be a sign?
Then I heard him exclaim with a loud hearty cry,
"Happy Y2K to all, kiss your PC good-bye!"

Dear Santa...

You must be surprised that I'm writing to you today, the 26th of December. Well, I would very much like to clear up certain things that have occurred since the beginning of the month, filled with illusion, I wrote you my letter. I asked for a bicycle, an electric train set, a pair of rollerblades, and a football uniform. I destroyed my brain studying the whole year. Not only was I the first in my class, but I had the best grades in the whole school. I'm not going to lie to you, there was no one in my entire neighborhood that behaved better than me, with my parents, my brothers, my friends, and with my neighbors. I would go on errands, and even help the elderly cross the street. There was virtually nothing within reach that I would not do for humanity. What balls do you have leaving me a fucking yo-yo, a stupid whistle and a pair of socks? What the fuck were you thinking, you fat son of a bitch, that you've taken me for a sucker the whole fucking year to come out with some shit like this under the tree. As if you hadn't fucked me enough, you gave that little faggot across the street so many toys that he can't even walk into his house. Please don't let me see you trying to fit your big fat ass down my chimney next year. I'll fuck you up. I'll throw rocks at those stupid reindeer and scare them away so you'll have to walk back to the fucking North Pole, just like what I have to do now since you didn't get me that fucking bike. FUCK YOU SANTA. Next year you'll find out how bad I can be, you FAT-SON-OF-A-BITCH.

Sincerely,

Little Johnny

Yet another... Night Before Christmas

Christmas Physics

After many careful hours of painstaking research, I have compiled the most expansive physics experiment ever performed on Santa Claus. I hope you can give me the due credit when you show off your cute article. After all, it is my life, my thesis, my reason for existence on this blessed earth. Well, here is my inquiry into Santa Claus.

1. No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer which only Santa has ever seen.

2. There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - 378 million according to the Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there exists at least one good child in each.

3. Santa has 31 of hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house. This means that Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second - a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

4. The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each good child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariable described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload - not even counting the weight of the sleigh - to 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison - this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth.

5. 353,00 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance - this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecrafts re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second. Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.

In conclusion - If Santa ever DID deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he's dead now.

X-mas Survival Quiz

In this holiday season, the presents are under the tree, the good feelings are flowing... then the criminals kick into high gear and you have to see your family. Every bit of good is offset with a little bit of bad. Can you thrive and survive this holiday season? Take this quiz and find out.

PART I: THE NIGHT BEFORE X-MAS:

1: When up on the roof there arises such a clatter, you...

A. Jump out of bed shouting "Santa's here!"
B. Jump out of bed shouting "What the %&!@ was that?!"
C. Grab a shotgun and start firing toward the sound of footsteps.

2: Finish this famous line from a X-mas tradition: "On..."

A. "a gada da vida."
B. "top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese..."
C. "Cupid, on Comet, on Donder and Blitzen!"

3: By the way, what is a Blitzen?

A. An incredible drink with five kinds of rum.
B. Isn't it that thing they serve with jam at a deli?
C. A reindeer, stupid!

4: If a fat man in a red suit gives you a wink and twists his head, this means...

A. He's Santa!
B. He's got a facial tick!
C. He's gonna show you the candy cane he's got hidden in his pants!

5: How do you answer when the kids ask you when Santa will come?

A. About thirty minutes after Mrs. Claus says she's in the mood.
B. Ever since he got hired by Microsoft... Easter.
C. When all the little boys and girls are asleep.

PART II: A FAMILY KIND OF X-MAS:

6: It's December 23 and you finally realize you'd better buy some gifts. What do you do?

A. Rush to the mall. Since everyone else shopped early it should be fairly empty, right?

B. Rush to McDonalds and buy every book of gift certificates they have.

C. Rush to the liquor store. You can't go wrong with vodka!

7: If you want to have a peaceful visit, the best topic to discuss with Dad is...

A. Why you don't believe in G-d anymore.
B. Politics.
C. The weather.

8: When Mom starts asking those questions you really don't want to answer, you...

A. Turn red, start shouting, and leave the house in a huff.

B. Say "oh look, an elf" and hide while she's distracted.

C. Lie and hope she's had so much spiked eggnog that she won't remember a thing in the morning.

9: The family's singing "Deck The Halls." When you get to "Don we now our gay apparrel," your bachelor uncle starts crying, then admits that for the past seventeen years he's been secretly living with someone named Don who is all alone tonight. You...

A. Tell him to invite Don over to join in the festivities.

B. Try to protect him from your father who is loudly pronouncing that God will punish him!

C. Start a fire in the kitchen to take everyone's mind off it.

10: The videotape to rent for the big family get-together this X-mas is...

A. It's A Wonderful Life... because they expect it.

B. It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown... because it's the only video left in the store.

C. ID4... because all the kids will side with you and the adults will give in rather than hear them whine.

SCORING THE QUIZ:
As always, the scoring is simple. 1 point for every A, 3 for every B, and
5 for every C. Tally up your points and consult the chart below.

10-22 Points:
In the words of Mr. T., "I pity the fool" who gets this score. You're in
for a bad X-mas. We're talking a riding in the black van in "Twister"
kind of X-mas. Then again, X-mas is supposed to be the time
for miracles, but I wouldn't count on it.

24-38 Points:
You remember question #6? Read answer C, then buy yourself a gift
too. You're going to need it.

40-50 Points:
You're at or close to the right mixture of distrust and dishonesty that
will help you have a safe and sane X-mas. Just remember this final
simple rule to help you get through it... It's not the gift itself that
counts, but whether or not they kept the receipt.

The Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas - Old Santa was pissed.
He cussed out the elves and threw down his list.
Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works.
I've busted my ass for damn near a year,
Instead of "Thanks Santa" - what do I hear?
The old lady bitches cause I work late at night
The elves want more money - The reindeer all fight.
Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS
And just when I thought that things would get better
Those assholes from IRS sent me a letter
They say I owe taxes - if that ain't damn funny
Who the hell ever sent Santa Clause any money?
And the kids these days - they all are the pits
They want the impossible ...Those mean little shits
I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds
Assembling dolls...Their arms, legs and heads
I made a ton of yo yo's - No request for them
They want computers and robots...they think I'm IBM!
Flying through the air...dodging the trees
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees
I'm quitting this job...there's just no enjoyment
I'll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment
There's no Christmas this year...now you know the reason
I found me a blonde.. I'm going SOUTH for the season!

Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water.
But silly Jill forgot the Pill,
And now they have a daughter.

M E M O R A N D U M

to: all employees

from: management

subject: special high intensity training

date: 8/11/00

cc: all hod

In order to ensure the highest level of quality work and productivity from employees, it will be our policy to keep all employees well trained through our program called :

SPECIAL HIGH INTENSITY TRAINING (S.H.I.T.)

We are trying to give our employees more S.H.I.T. than anyone else.

If you feel that you do not receive your share of S.H.I.T. on the job, please see your manager. You will immediately be placed at the top of the S.H.I.T. list and our managers are especially skilled at seeing that you get all the S.H.I.T. you can handle.

Employees who don’t take their S.H.I.T. will be placed in DEPARTMENTAL EMPLOYEE EVALUATION PROGRAMS (D.E.E.P.S.H.I.T). Those who fail to take D.E.E.P.S.H.I.T. seriously will have to get to EMPLOYEE ATTITUDE TRAINING (E.A.T.S.H.I.T.). Since our managers took S.H.I.T. before they were promoted, they don’t have to do S.H.I.T. any more, as they are full of S.H.I.T. already.

If you are full of S.H.I.T. already, you may be interested in a job training others. We can add your name to our BASIC UNDERSTANDING LECTURE LIST (B.U.L.L.S.H.I.T.). Those who are full of B.U.L.L.S.H.I.T. will get the S.H.I.T. jobs, and can apply for promotion to DIRECTOR OF INTENSITY PROGRAMMING (D.I.P.S.H.I.T.).

If you have further questions, please direct them to our HEAD OF TRAINING SPECIAL HIGH INTENSITY TRAINING (H.O.T.S.H.I.T.).

Thank you,

BOSS IN GENERAL

SPECIAL HIGH INTENSITY TRAINING

(B.I.G.S.H.I.T.)

A Confused Mother Writing to Her Son

Dear Son

Just a few lines to let you know that I’m still alive. I’m writing this letter slowly because I know you cannot read fast. You won’t know the house when you come home - we’ve moved.

About your father, he has a lovely new job. He has 500 men under him. He is cutting the grass at the cemetery.

There was a washing machine in the new house when we moved in, but it isn’t working very good. Last week I put fourteen shirts into it, pulled the chain, and I haven’t seen the shirts since.

Your sister, Mary, had a baby this morning. I haven’t found out whether it’s a boy or a girl, so I don’t know whether you’re an aunt or an uncle.

Your Uncle Dick drowned last week in a vat of whiskey in the Dublin Brewery. Some of his work mates dived in to save him, but he fought them off bravely. We cremated his body and it took 3 days to put out the fire.

Your father didn’t have much to drink at Christmas. I put a bottle of castor oil in his pint of beer - it kept him going till New Year’s Day.

I went to the doctor on Thursday and your father came with me. The doctor put a small tube into my mouth and told me to keep it shut for ten minutes. Your father offered to buy it from him.

It only rained twice last week. First for 3 days, and then for 4 days. Monday it was so windy that one of our chickens laid the same egg four times.

We had a letter yesterday from the undertaker. He said if the last instalment wasn’t paid on your grandmother within five days, up she comes.

Much Love,

Mother

p/s I was going to send you ten dollars, but

I had already sealed the envelope.

I'M GLAD I'M A MAN

I'm glad I'm a man, you better believe.
I don't live off of yogurt, diet coke, or cottage cheese.
I don't bitch to my girlfriends about the size of my breasts.
I can get where I want to - north, south, east or west.

I don't get wasted after only 2 beers,
and when I do drink I don't end up in tears.
I won't spend hours deciding what to wear.
I spend 5 minutes max fixing my hair.

And I don't go around checking my reflection
in everything shiny from every direction.
I don't whine in public and make us leave early, and
when you ask why get all bitter and surly.

I'm glad I'm a man, I'm so glad I could sing.
I don't have to sit around waiting for that ring.
I don't gossip about friends or stab them in the back.
I don't carry our differences into the sack.

I'll never go psycho and threaten to kill you
or think every guy out there's trying to steal you.
I'm rational, reasonable, and logical too.
I know what the time is and I know what to do.

And I honestly think its a privilege for me
to have these two balls and stand when I pee.
I live to watch sports and play all sorts of ball.
It's more fun than dealing with women after all.
I won't cry if you say it's not going to work.
I won't remain bitter and call you a jerk.

Feel free to use me for immediate pleasure.
I won't assume it's permanent by any measure.

Yes, I'm so very glad I'm a man, you see.
I'm glad I'm not capable of child delivery.
I don't get all bitchy every 28 days.
I'm glad that my gender gets me a much bigger raise.
I'm a man by chance and I'm thankful it's true.
I'm so glad I'm a man and not a woman like you!

I'M GLAD I'M A WOMAN

I'm glad I'm a woman, yes I am, yes I am.
I don't live off of Budweiser, Beer Nuts and Spam.
I don't brag to my buddies about my erections.
I won't drive to Hell before I ask for directions.

I don't get wasted at parties, and act like a clown.
And I know how to put that damned toilet seat down!
I won't grab your hooters, I won't pinch your butt.
My belt buckle's not hidden beneath my beer gut.

And I don't go around "readjusting" my crotch,
or yell like Tarzan when my headboard gets a notch.
I don't belch in public, I don't scratch my behind.
I'm a woman you see-I'm just not that kind!

I'm glad I'm a woman, I'm so glad I could sing.
I don't have body hair like shag carpeting.
It doesn't grow from my ears or cover my back.
When I lean over you can't see 3 inches of crack.
And what's on my head doesn't leave with my comb.
I'll never buy a toupee to cover my dome.

Or have a few hairs pulled from over the side.
I'm a woman, you know-I've got far too much pride!
And I honestly think its a privilege for me,
to have these two boobs and sit down when I pee.
I don't live to play golf and shoot basketball.
I don't swagger and spit like a Neanderthal.

I won't tell you my wife just does not understand,
or stick my hand in my pocket to hide that gold band.
Or tell you a story to make you sigh and weep,
then screw you, roll over and fall sound asleep!
Yes, I'm so very glad I'm a woman, you see.
Forget all about that old penis envy.

I don't long for male bonding, I don't cruise for chicks.
Join the Hair Club For Men, or think with my dick.
I'm a woman by chance and I'm thankful, it's true.
I'm so glad I'm a woman and not a man like you!

The following are the top three winners of a Most Embarrassing Moments Contest in the "New Woman Magazine".

1.)

While in line at the bank one afternoon, my toddler decided to release some pent-up energy and ran amok. I was finally able to grab hold of her after receiving looks of disgust and annoyance from other patrons. I told her that if she did not start behaving "right now", she would be punished.

To my horror, she looked me in the eye and said in a voice just as threatening, "If you don't let me go right now, I will tell Grandma that I saw you kissing Daddy's pee-pee last night!"

The silence was deafening after this enlightening exchange. Even the tellers stopped what they were doing. I mustered up the last of my dignity and walked out of the bank with my daughter in tow.

The last thing I heard when the door closed behind me were screams of laughter.

2.)

It was the day before my eighteenth birthday. I was living at home, but my parents had gone out for the evening, so I invited my girlfriend over for a romantic night alone. As we lay in bed after making love, we heard the telephone ring downstairs. I suggested to my girlfriend that I give her a piggyback ride to the phone. Since we didn't want to miss the call, we didn't have time to get dressed. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, the lights suddenly came on and a whole crowd of people yelled, SURPRISE!!!"

My entire family, aunts, uncles, Grandparents, cousins and all my friends were standing there. My girlfriend and I were frozen in a state of shock and embarrassment for what seemed like an eternity.

Since then, no one in my family has planned a surprise party again.

3.)

One of the funniest "most-embarrassing-moment" stories I've come upon in a long time was about a lady who picked up several items at a discount store. When she finally got up to the checker, she learned that one of her items had no price tag.

Imagine her embarrassment when the checker got on the intercom and boomed out for all the store to hear, "PRICE CHECK ON LANE THIRTEEN, TAMPAX,  SUPERSIZE."

That was bad enough, but somebody at the rear of the store apparently misunderstood the word "tampax" for "THUMBTACKS." In a business-like tone, a voice boomed back over the intercom, "DO YOU WANT THE KIND YOU PUSH IN WITH YOUR THUMB OR THE KIND YOU POUND IN WITH A HAMMER???"

Two drunks were sitting on a street corner wondering if they should buy a beer with their last dollar. One of the drunks suggested that they buy a hotdog. The other started bitching, complaining that he couldn't drink a hotdog. The other drunk told him his idea.

"What we do is buy a hotdog, go into a bar, and order two drinks. After we drink our beers you drop down to your knees, and I'll unzip my pants and pull out the hotdog so you can suck on it. The bartender will throw us out thinking we're queers."

The other drunk thought this was a great idea, so they bought a hotdog. They went into the first bar, ordered their drinks, and drank them quickly. Then the drunk dropped to his knees and started to suck the hotdog. Sure enough, the bartender kicked them out thinking they were queer.

They hit about ten or fifteen bars when the first drunk started to complain about his knees hurting. He asked if in the next bar the other drunk would do the dirty work. The second drunk said, "I'd rather not. I lost the hotdog after about the fifth bar."

During a Biology class, the teacher asked the class:

"Why is that during childhood, gals tend to grow taller than guys?"

A student replied: "That's because guys have "balls" and that weighs them down."

Teacher: "Then why is that at maturity, guys tend to grow taller than gals?"

Student: "That's because gals have breasts and they are heavier than the guys' ‘balls’.”

Teacher FAINTED.

A SECRETARY COMPLAINS ABOUT HER BOSS.

She says "My boss is so sex-crazed. Every time he comes into the office, I must do the LAPTOP position, and then the DESKTOP position, followed by the SPREADSHEET format.

I must LOAD UP his SOFT DISK into a HARD DISK, so that he can INSERT in my C DRIVE and then the A DRIVE.

Then he'll ask me to EJECT his SOFTWARE outside my C DRIVE so that he is VIRUS FREE.

Then he changes his mind and decides to ENTER, ENTER, ENTER the whole day till he is in MICROSOFT stage.

Once I tried to ESC (escape) but he caught me and SHIFTed me to his HOME where he started pressing BACKSPACE, and said "TURNOVER".

Today, many a times he works without CAPSLOCK (without "cap" or "helmet") and sometimes as an  ALTernative he CRASHES @ my SYSTEM until he looses his CTRL (control) and again he LOGS IN...

This process may continue until I SHUT DOWN his MAIN SYSTEM.

Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal, and says to the first man he meets, “Do you want to go to heaven?"

The man said, "I do Father."

The priest said, "Then leave this pub right now!" and approached a second man.  "Do you want to got to heaven?"

"Certainly, Father," was the man's reply.

"Then leave this den of Satan," said the priest, as he walked up to O'Toole. "Do you want to go to heaven?"

"No, I don't Father," O'Toole replied.

The priest looked him right in the eye, and said, "You mean to tell me that when you die you don't want to go to heaven?"

O'Toole smiled, "Oh, when I die, yes, Father.  I thought you were getting a group together to go right now."

On their wedding night, Amanpreet displays his "magnificent beast" to his naive new bride, Lori, and tells her it's the only one in the world.  She, of course, believes him.

A month later he went to a conference for a couple of weeks. Upon his return, Lori questions him.

"Preet, I thought you said you had the only one in the world. But Quint, down at the drug store, has one, too!"

"Well, uh, " Amanpreet stutters, "you see, Quint and I were, uh, in the Air Force together, yeah, that's it, in the military, and I had two, so, uh, I gave him one of mine."

Lori sighed.  "Oh. I see. Well, why did you give him the *best* one?"

(> ”” <)

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