Humour

[bearcar1]

WARNING: Watch Your Step!

BC1
Jim

 

[dsquire]

WARNING: Watch Your Step!

BC1
Jim

Now you tell me!

Cheers

Don

 

[dsquire]

How the Internet started:-


A revelation with an Incredibly Big Message (IBM):

Well, you might have thought that you knew how the Internet started, but here's the TRUE story ....

In ancient Israel , it came to pass that a trader by the name of Abraham Com did take unto himself a young wife by the name of Dot.

And Dot Com was a comely woman, broad of shoulder and long of leg. Indeed, she was often called Amazon Dot Com.

And she said unto Abraham, her husband: "Why dost thou travel so far from town to town with thy goods when thou canst trade without ever leaving thy tent?"

And Abraham did look at her - as though she were several saddle bags short of a camel load, but simply said: "How, dear?"

And Dot replied: "I will place drums in all the towns and drums in between to send messages saying what you have for sale, and they will reply telling you who hath the best price.

And the sale can be made on the drums and delivery made by Uriah's Pony Stable (UPS)."

Abraham thought long and decided he would let Dot have her way with the drums. And the drums rang out and were an immediate success. Abraham sold all the goods he had at the top price, without ever having to move from his tent.

To prevent neighbouring countries from overhearing what the drums were saying, Dot devised a system that only she and the drummers knew. It was called Must Send Drum Over Sound (MSDOS), and she also developed a language to transmit ideas and pictures - Hebrew To The People (HTTP)

But this success did arouse envy. A man named Maccabia did secrete himself inside Abraham's drum and began to siphon off some of Abraham's business. But he was soon discovered, arrested and prosecuted for insider trading.

And the young men did take to Dot Com's trading as doth the greedy horsefly take to camel dung.

They were called Nomadic Ecclesiastical Rich Dominican Sybarites, or NERDS.

And lo, the land was so feverish with joy at the new riches and the deafening sound of drums that no one noticed that the real riches were going to that enterprising drum dealer, Brother William of Gates, who bought off every drum maker in the land.

And indeed did insist on drums to be made that would work only with Brother Gates' drumheads and drumsticks.

And Dot did say: "Oh, Abraham, what we have started is being taken over by others."

And Abraham looked out over the Bay of Ezekiel , or eBay as it came to be known. He said: "We need a name that reflects what we are."

And Dot replied: "Young Ambitious Hebrew Owner Operators." "YAHOO," said Abraham. And because it was Dot's idea, they named it YAHOO Dot Com.

Abraham's cousin, Joshua, being the young Gregarious Energetic Educated Kid (GEEK) that he was, soon started using Dot's drums to locate things around the countryside. It soon became known as God's Own Official Guide to Locating Everything (GOOGLE)

...... and that is how it all began.


Cheers

Don

 

[Maryak]

That's what's known as a

line into new unusual xfactors (LINUX)

which resulted in amongst others

Renewed entry derivative handling alternate threads or REDHAT

Best Regards
Bob

 

[GOOFY063]

.

I THINK YOU ARE THE FATHER OF ONE OF MY KIDS


A guy goes to the supermarket and notices an attractive woman waving at him. She says "Hello!”.
He's rather taken aback because he can't place where he knows her from.
So he says, 'Do you know me?'
To which she replies, 'I think you're the father of one of my kids.'
Now his mind travels back to the only time he has ever been unfaithful to his wife and says, 'Are you the stripper from the bachelor party that I made love to on the pool table with all my buddies watching while your partner whipped my butt with wet celery?'

She looks into his eyes and says calmly, "No, I'm your son's teacher."

 

[Maryak]

I LIKE IT :bow: :bow: :bow: :bow:

 

[Twmaster]

Marriage is like a game of cards....

At some point you have two hearts and a diamond....

Some time later you really want a club and a spade.....

 

[robwilk]

Marriage is like a game of cards....

At some point you have two hearts and a diamond....

Some time later you really want a club and a spade.....

:big: I like it
I will have to remember that one

Rob.....

 

[rake60]

Marriage is like a game of cards....

At some point you have two hearts and a diamond....

Some time later you really want a club and a spade.....

My wife says it's more like a game of American Football.

Some days she wants to get us and kick me in the"End Zone".
:hDe:

Rick

 

[rake60]

WOMEN

A real woman is a man's best friend.

She will never stand him up and never let him down.

She will reassure him when he feels insecure and comfort him after a bad day.

She will inspire him to do things he never thought he could do; to live without
fear and forget regret.

She will enable him to express his deepest emotions and give in to his most
intimate desires.

She will make sure he always feels as though he's the most handsome man
in the room and will enable him to be the most confident, sexy, seductive and
invincible...

No wait...Sorry.

I'm thinking of beer.
It's beer that does all that stuff.

Never mind...

 

[tel]

Rof} Rof} Rof}

 

[bearcar1]

Beer..........

Since the beginning of man........

allowing ugly people to have sex



BC1
Jim

 

[mzetati]

Neighborhood Hazard
(or: Why the Cops Won't Patrol Brice Street Anymore)

I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential
neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect... I
was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow
traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from
under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a
squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it
encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no
time to brake or avoid it
- it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a
motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time
to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I
discovered, can take care of themselves! Inches before impact, the squirrel
flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my
oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His
mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am
pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Bonsai!" or maybe, "Die you
gravy-sucking, heathen !" The leap was nothing short of spectacular ... as
he shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in
the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would
have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack.
Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity.
As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans
this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing
some damage! Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser,
dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph
down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a
squirrel. And losing...

I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed
to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the
left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the
throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there.
It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the
pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have
headed home. No one would have been the wiser.

But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary peeved-off
squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH! Somehow he
caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of
the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact,
he landed squarely on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and
extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove
with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks
were continuing, and now I could not reach him.

I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw,
only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking
back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the
throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one
result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very,
very good at it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement.
The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I
screamed in ... well ... I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in
jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove,
and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet
residential street on one wheel and with a squirrel on his back. The man
and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder. With the sudden
acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and
try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his
own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree,
house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the
throttle .... my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the
back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big
cruiser. About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying
sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is an evil
mutant attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE
my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway, he began
hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had
little effect on the squirrel, however.

The RPM's on The Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting
at the moment) so her front end started to drop. Now picture a large man on
a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly-torn
t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still
on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly
closed full-face helmet.

By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse. Finally I got the
upper hand ... I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my
helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked
... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of .. so to speak. Picture a new scene. You
are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential
street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly a
large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn
t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving
at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and
with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your
police car.

I heard screams. They weren't mine... I managed to get the big motorcycle
under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used
maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop
sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to fess up (and to get
my glove back). I really would have. Really. Except for two things. First,
the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at
the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car
were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back,
doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the
car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street
and was aiming a shotgun at his own police car. So the cops were not
interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it"
anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I could clearly see shredded
and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could
also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist
at me.

That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat
shredded patrol car ... but it was all his. I took a deep breath, turned on
my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately
left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair
of gloves. And some Band-Aids.

 

[Dan Rowe]

"let the professionals handle it"

:bow: :bow: :bow: ;D ;D ;D

Dan

 

[GOOFY063]

A PLANE IS ON ITS WAY TO TORONTO, WHEN A BLONDE IN ECONOMY CLASS GETS UP, AND MOVES TO THE FIRST CLASS SECTION AND SITS DOWN.

THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT WATCHES HER DO THIS, AND ASKS TO SEE HER TICKET.

SHE THEN TELLS THE BLONDE THAT SHE PAID FOR ECONOMY CLASS, AND THAT SHE WILL HAVE TO SIT IN THE BACK.

THE BLONDE REPLIES, "I'M BLONDE, I'M BEAUTIFUL, I'M GOING TO TORONTO AND I'M STAYING RIGHT HERE."

THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT GOES INTO THE COCKPIT AND TELLS THE PILOT AND THE CO-PILOT THAT THERE IS A BLONDE BIMBO SITTING IN FIRST CLASS, THAT BELONGS IN ECONOMY, AND WON'T MOVE BACK TO HER SEAT.

THE CO-PILOT GOES BACK TO THE BLONDE AND TRIES TO EXPLAIN THAT BECAUSE SHE ONLY PAID FOR ECONOMY SHE WILL HAVE TO LEAVE AND RETURN TO HER SEAT.

THE BLONDE REPLIES, "I'M BLONDE, I'M BEAUTIFUL, I'M GOING TO TORONTO AND I'M STAYING RIGHT HERE."

THE CO-PILOT TELLS THE PILOT THAT HE PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE THE POLICE WAITING WHEN THEY LAND TO ARREST THIS BLONDE WOMAN WHO WON'T LISTEN TO REASON.


THE PILOT SAYS, "YOU SAY SHE IS A BLONDE? I'LL HANDLE THIS, I'M MARRIED TO A BLONDE. I SPEAK BLONDE."

HE GOES BACK TO THE BLONDE AND WHISPERS IN HER EAR,

AND SHE SAYS, "OH, I'M SORRY." AND GETS UP AND GOES BACK TO HER SEAT IN ECONOMY..

THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT AND CO-PILOT ARE AMAZED AND ASKED HIM WHAT HE SAID TO MAKE HER MOVE WITHOUT ANY FUSS.

"I TOLD HER, "FIRST CLASS ISN'T GOING TO TORONTO ".

 

[Maryak]

If you can complete this...............Welcome to Oz

Best Regards
Bob

View attachment Australian Citizen Test.pdf

 

[tel]

*beer* I think I passed!

 

[ttrikalin]

In the beautiful forest a little bunny runs energetically, filled with energy, excitement and joy.

It comes across a deer who's lying down shooting heroin.
- Look at you, the bunny says, filled with misery on such a bright day! Stop the heroin and come run and exercise with me, channel your energy to others, clear your head!
the bunny's energy rubs off.
- OK, I'm game, says the deer, let's go run together!

A few meters down the trail they see a fox on LSD.
- Look at you, the deer says. Trapped in a maze of illusions! Feel our energy and excitement, come exercise with us, let's run around the forest and enjoy this bright day!
the fox see's their energetic run, and motivated joins them.

A little while down the trail they come across the big bad wolf and little red riding hood; both stoned. Empty stares, half opened mouths, drooling.
- Look at you, says the fox. Stop wasting these moments, feel the energy that transcends us, get off your lazy a$$3$ and come run around with us!
The big bad wolf turns a tired eye towards them:
- Get a grip of yourselves and go shoot your poison! I'm done running up and downevery time the bunny gets on ecstasy...

/*******************/

loses in translation -- just heard that on a greek tv show... :big:

tom in MA

 

[rake60]

Sometimes you have to admit an email forward is GOOD! LOL

"I just had a call from a charity asking me to donate some of my clothes to
the starving people throughout the world.

I told them to kiss my butt. Anybody who fits into my clothes isn't starving."

 

[Maryak]

For all our Matloe's

[ame=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_poMZSUUyg&feature=player_detailpage]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_poMZSUUyg&feature=player_detailpage[/ame]

Best Regards
Bob