Adam was walking around the Garden of Eden feeling very
lonely, and he heard a loud voice ask him, "What is wrong
with you?" Adam said he didn't have anyone to talk to. Then
the loud voice said he was going to give him a companion and
it would be a woman.
He said "this person will cook for you and wash your
clothes, she will always agree with every decision you make.
She will bear your children and never ask you to get up in
the middle of the night to take care of them. She will not
nag you, and will always be the first to admit she was wrong
when you've had a disagreement. She will never have a
headache, and will freely give you love and compassion
whenever needed."
Adam asked "What would a woman like this cost me??"
The answer was "an arm and a leg."
Adam then asked "What can I get for just a rib???"
The rest is history.
Comments
This guy goes ice fishing, takes out an auger and starts drilling.
Loud Voice From Above: There's no fish there.
Guy goes to another spot and drills.
Loud Voice From Above: There's no fish there, either.
Guy tries a third spot.
Loud Voice From Above: Nope. Not there either.
Guy, getting a little nervous: "Are you God?
Loud Voice From Above: No. I'm the arena manager.
Comments
Once upon a time there lived a man who had a maddening passion for baked beans. He loved them but they had a very embarrassing and somewhat odorous reaction to them. Then on day he met a girl and fell in love. When it was apparent that they would marry, he thought to himself, "She is such a sweet and gentile girl; she will never go for this kind of carrying on," so he made the supreme sacrifice and gave up his beans. They were married shortly thereafter.
Some months later his car broke down on the way home from work. Since they lived in the country, he called his wife and told her that he would be late since he had to walk home. On the way home he passed a small cafe, and the odor of freshly baked beans was overwhelming. Since he still had several miles to walk, he figured that he would work off any ill-effects before he got home. He stopped at the cafe, and before leaving he had eaten 3 large orders of baked beans. All the way home he putt-putted, and after arriving, felt reasonably safe that he had putted his last.
His wife seemed somewhat excited to see him and explained delightedly, "Darling, I have the most wonderful surprise for dinner tonight." She then blindfolded him and led him to his chair at the head of that dinner table. She seated him, and just as she was about to remove the blindfold, the telephone rang. She made him vow not to touch the blindfold until she returned, then went to answer the phone. He seized the opportunity, shifted his weight to the other leg and let go. It was not only loud, but as ripe as rotten eggs. He took the napkin from his lap and vigorously fanned the air about him. Things had just returned to normal when he felt another urge coming on, so he shifted his weight to the other leg and let go again. This one was a true prize-winner. While keeping his ear to the conversation in the hall, he went on like this for 10 minutes until he discerned the phone farewell, which indicated the end of his loneliness and freedom. He placed the napkin on his lap and folded his hands on top of it. Smiling contentedly to himself, he was the picture of innocence. When his wife returned, after apologizing for taking so long, he asked if he had peeked, and he assured her he had not. At this point she removed the blindfold and there was to his surprise twelve dinner guests seated around the table for a birthday party.
Seth Croston Barber <kn1ght@cyberis.net>
Last modified: Wed Oct 06 13:29:35 PDT 1999
Comments
Here is a true story someone found regarding exams at Cambridge University.
It seems that during an examination one day a bright young student popped up and
asked the proctor to bring him Cakes and Ale. The following dialog ensued:
Proctor: I beg your pardon?
Student: Sir, I request that you bring me Cakes and Ale.
Proctor: Sorry, no.
Student: Sir, I really must insist. I request and require that you
bring me Cakes and Ale.
At this point, the student produced a copy of the four hundred year old Laws of
Cambridge, written in Latin and still nominally in effect, and pointed to the
section which read (rough translation from the Latin):
"Gentlemen sitting examinations may request and require Cakes and Ale".
Pepsi and hamburgers were judged the modern equivalent, and the student sat
there, writing his examination and happily slurping away.
Three weeks later the student was fined five pounds for not wearing a sword to
the examination.
Comments
A magazine recently ran a "Dilbert quotes" contest. They were looking
for people to submit quotes from their real life Dilbert-type managers.
Here are some of the submissions...
As of tomorrow, employees will only be able to access the building using
individual security cards. Pictures will be taken next Wednesday and
employees will receive their cards in two weeks. (This was the winning
quote from Fred Dales at Microsoft Corp. in Redmond, WA.)
What I need is a list of specific unknown problems we will encounter.
(Lykes Lines Shipping)
E-mail is not to be used to pass on information or data. It should be used
only for company business. (Accounting Manager, Electric Boat Company)
This project is so important, we can't let things that are more important
interfere with it. (Advertising/Marketing Manager, United Parcel Service)
Doing it right is no excuse for not meeting the schedule. No one will
believe you solved this problem in one day! We've been working on it for
months. Now, go act busy for a few weeks and I'll let you know when it's
time to tell them. (R&D Supervisor, Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing/3M
Corp.)
My Boss spent the entire weekend retyping a 25-page proposal that only
needed corrections. She claims the disk I gave her was damaged and she
couldn't edit it. The disk I gave her was write-protected. (CIO, Dell
Computers)
Quote from the Boss: "Teamwork is a lot of people doing what I say."
(Marketing Executive, Citrix Corporation)
"How About Friday?" My sister passed away and her funeral was scheduled
for Monday. When I told my Boss, he said she died so that I would have
to miss work on the busiest day of the year. He then asked if we could
change her burial to Friday. He said, "That would be better for me."
(Shipping Executive, FTD Florists)
"We know that communication is a problem, but the company is not going to
discuss it with the employees." (Switching Supervisor, AT&T Long Lines
Division)
We recently received a memo from senior management saying: "This is to
inform you that a memo will be issued today regarding the subject
mentioned above." (Microsoft, Legal Affairs Division)
One day my Boss asked me to submit a status report to him concerning a
project I was working on. I asked him if tomorrow would be soon enough.
He said "If I wanted it tomorrow, I would have waited until tomorrow to
ask for it!" (New Business Manager, Hallmark Greeting Cards.)
Speaking the Same Language: As director of communications I was asked to
prepare a memo reviewing our company's training programs and materials.
In the body of the memo one of the sentences mentioned the "pedagogical
approach" used by one of the training manuals. The day after I routed the
memo to the executive committee, I was called into the HR director's
office, and told that the executive vice president wanted me out of the
building by lunch. When I asked why, I was told that she wouldn't stand
for "perverts" (pedophilia?) working in her company. Finally he showed me
her copy of the memo, with her demand that I be fired -- and the word
"pedagogical" circled in red. The HR manager was fairly reasonable, and
once he looked the word up in his dictionary, and made a copy of the
definition to send back to her, he told me not to worry. He would take
care of it. Two days later a memo to the entire staff came out -
directing us that no words which could not be found in the local Sunday
newspaper could be used in company memos. A month later, I resigned. In
accordance with company policy, I created my resignation memo by pasting
words together from the Sunday paper. (Taco Bell Corporation)
This gem is the closing paragraph of a nationally-circulated memo from a
large communications company: "(Company name) is endeavorily determined to
promote constant attention on current procedures of transacting business
focusing emphasis on innovative ways to better, if not supersede, the
expectations of quality!" (Lucent Technologies)
Comments
Recently, the Minnesota Orchestra was doing Beethoven's
Ninth under the baton of Milton Katims.....
Now at this point, you must understand two things:
1. There's a quite long segment in this symphony where the bass
violins don't have a thing to do. Not a single note for page after page.
2. There is a night club right across the street from the
Minnesota's Orchestra Hall, rather favored by local musicians.
It had been decided that during this performance, once the bass
players had played their parts in the opening of the Ninth, they
were to quietly lay down their instruments and leave the stage,
rather than sit on their stools looking and feeling dumb for
twenty minutes. Well, once they got backstage, someone suggested
that they trot across the street and drink a few brews.
After they had downed the first couple rounds, one said, "Shouldn't
we be getting back? It'd be awfully embarrassing if we were late."
Another, presumably the one who suggested this excursion in the
first place, replied, "Oh, I anticipated we could use a little
more time, so I tied a string around the last pages of the
conductor's score. When he gets down to there, Milton's going
to have to slow the tempo way down while he waves the
baton with one hand and fumbles with the string with the other."
So they had another round, and finally returned to the Opera house, a
little tipsy by now. However, as they came back on stage, one look
at their conductor's face told them they were in serious trouble.
Katims was furious! And why not? After all...
It was the bottom of the Ninth,
the basses were loaded,
and the score was tied.
Comments
A Charlotte, North Carolina man, having purchased a case of rare, very
expensive cigars, insured them against ... get this ....fire. Within a
month, having smoked his entire stockpile of fabulous cigars, and having yet
to make a single premium payment on the policy, the man filed a claim against
the insurance company. In his claim, the man stated that he had lost the
cigars in "a series of small fires."
The insurance company refused to pay, citing the obvious reason that the man
had consumed the cigars in a normal fashion. The man sued...and won.
In delivering his ruling, the judge stated that since the man held a policy
from the company in which it had warranted that the cigars were insurable,
and also guaranteed that it would insure the cigars against fire, without
defining what it considered to be "unacceptable fire," it was obligated to
compensate the insured for his loss.
Rather than endure a lengthy and costly appeal process, the insurance
company accepted the judge's ruling and paid the man $15,000 for the rare
cigars he lost in "the fires."
*** Now we get to the funny part ***
After the man cashed his check, however, the insurance company had him
arrested on 24 counts of arson. With his own insurance claim and testimony
from the previous case being used as evidence against him, the man was
convicted of intentionally burning the rare cigars and sentenced to 24
consecutive one year terms.
Comments
A lady named Linda went to Arkansas last week to visit her in-laws, and
while there, went to a store. She parked next to a car with a woman
sitting in it, her eyes closed and hands behind her head, apparently
sleeping. When Linda came out a while later, she again saw the woman, her
hands still behind her head but with her eyes open. The woman looked very
strange, so Linda tapped on the window and said "Are you okay?"
The woman answered "I've been shot in the head, and I am holding my brains
in." Linda didn't know what to do, so she ran into the store, where store
officials called the paramedics. They had to break into the car because
the door was locked. When they got in, they found that the woman had bread
dough on the back of her head and in her hands.
A Pilsbury biscuit cannister had exploded, apparently from the heat in the
car, making a loud explosion like that of a gunshot, and hit her in the
head.
When she reached back to find what it was, she felt the dough and thought it
was her brains. She passed out from fright at first, then attempted to hold
her brains in.
Comments
In the past, staff has been permitted to make trips to the restroom under informal guidelines. Effective immediately, a Restroom Trip Policy (RTP) will be established to provide a consistent method of accounting for each employee's restroom time and ensuring equal treatment of all employees.
Under the policy, a "Restroom Trip bank" will be established for each employee. The first day of each month, employees will be given a Restroom Trip Credit of 20. Restroom trip credits can be accumulated from month to month.
Currently, the entrances to all restrooms are being equipped with personnel identification stations and computer-linked voice print recognition. During the next three weeks, each employee must provide two copies of voice prints (one normal, one under stress) to the Board Chair. The voice print recognition stations will be operational, but not restrictive, for the month of April; employees should acquaint themselves with the stations during that period.
If an employee's Restroom Trip Bank Balance reaches zero, the doors to all restrooms will not unlock for the employee's voice until the first of the next month.
In addition all restroom stalls are being equipped with time paper roll retractors. If the stall is occupied for more than three minutes, an alarm will sound. Thirty seconds after the alarm sounds, the roll of paper in the stall will retract, the toilet will flush and the stall door will open. If you have any questions about the new policy, please ask one of the administrators.
Seth Croston Barber <kn1ght@cyberis.net>
Last modified: Wed Oct 06 13:29:36 PDT 1999
Comments
A young man wishing to purchase a birthday gift for his sweetheart decided upon a pair of gloves. Accompanied by his sister, he went to make the purchase, while his sister bought a pair of bloomers.
In delivering, the packages got mixed up, the sister getting the gloves and he the bloomers. He sent the package without opening it to his sweetheart with this following note:
This little token is to remind you that I'm keeping tab of your birthday. I chose these because I think you need them. I have noticed that you aren't in the habit of wearing them when we go out in the evening. If it had not been for my sister, I would have chosen longer ones. They are very delicate in color but the lady I bought them from showed me a pair she had been wearing for three weeks and they hardly looked soiled. I had her slip them on and they looked very sweet. How I wish I could put them on you for the first time but no doubt other gentlemen's hands will come in contact with them before I have a chance to see them. I didn't know your exact size, yet I should be capable of judging that better than any other person. When you take them off, blow into them before putting them away. Naturally they will be a little damp from wearing. Be sure to keep them on while cleaning or they may shrink. I hope you will accept them in the spirit in which they are being given and will wear them on Friday night.
Yours only,
P.S. Notice the number of times I shall kiss the back of them during the coming year. The clerk said the latest style is to wear them unbuttoned and hanging down.
Fatal error: Call to undefined function: printfooter() in /mnt/raid2/home1/k/kn1ght/public_html/jokes/gloves.phtml on line 16
Comments
Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bedsheets,
Still I sat there, doing spredsheets:
Having reached the bottom line,
I took a floppy from the drawer.
Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE command
But got instead a reprimand: it read "Abort, Retry, Ignore".
Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices Solomon himself had never faced before.
Carefully, I weighed my options.
These three seemed to be the top ones.
Clearly, I must now adopt one -
Choose : "Abort, Retry, Ignore".
With my fingers pale and trembling,
Slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee
Finally I pressed a key --
But on the screen what did I see?
Again: "Abort, Retry, Ignore".
I tried to catch the chips off-guard --
I pressed again, but twice as hard.
Luck was just not in the cards,
I saw what I had seen before.
Now I typed in desperation,
Trying random combinations.
Still there came the incantation -
Choose: "Abort, Retry, Ignore".
There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted;
Getting up, I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw an awful sight,
A bold and blinding flash of light,
A lightning bolt that cut the night and shook me to my very core.
The PC screen collapsed an died,
"Oh no -- my database", I cried.
I thought I heard a voice reply,
"You'll see your data-- Nevermore!"
To this day I do not know
The place to which our data goes
Perhaps it goes to Heaven where the angels have it stored.
But as for productivity - well,
I fear it has gone straight to Hell.
And that's the tale I have to tell -
Your choice: "Abort, Retry, Ignore".
---Anonymous
Comments
It seems that a little old English lady was looking for some rooms in Switzerland. She asked the local village school master to help her. A place that suited her was finally found and the lady returned to London for her luggage. She remembered then that she had not noticed a bathroom, or as she called it, a "water closet". So she wrote to the school master. He was puzzled by the initials "W.C.", never dreaming, of course, that she was asking about a bathroom. He finally asked the help of the parish priest who decided that W.C. stood for Wesleyan Church. This was his reply:
Dear Madam,
The W.C. is situated nine miles from the house in the center of a beautiful grove of trees. It is capable of holding 350 people at a time and is open on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday each week. A large number of folks attend during the summer months, so it is suggested you go early, although there is plenty of standing room. Some folk like to take their lunch and make a day of it, especially on Thursday when there is organ accompaniment. The acoustics are very good and everyone can hear the slightest sound.
It may be of interest to you to know that my daughter was married in our W.C. and it was there she met her husband.
We hope you will be there in time for our bazaar to be held very soon. The proceeds will go towards the purchase of plush seats which the folks agree are a long-felt need, as the present ones all have holes in them.
My wife is rather delicate, therefore she cannot attend regularly. It has been six months since the last time she went. Naturally, it pains her very much not to be able to go more often.
I shall close now with the desire to accommodate you in every way possible and I will be happy to save you a seat down front or near the door, whichever you prefer.
School Master
Comments