Jokes – Stories #2

Divert Your Course
Believe it or not…this is the transcript of an actual radio conversation between a US naval ship and Canadian authorities off the coast of Newfoundland in October 1995. The Radio conversation was released by the Chief of Naval Operations on Oct. 10, 1995.

Canadians: Please divert your course 15 degrees the South to avoid a collision.

Americans: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees the North to avoid a collision.

Canadians: Negative. You will have to divert your course 15 degrees to the South to avoid a collision.

Americans: This is the Captain of a US Navy ship. I say again, divert YOUR course.

Canadians: No. I say again, you divert YOUR course.


Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your call.
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College Majors
by Dave Barry
Many of you young persons out there are seriously thinking about going to college. (That is, of course, a lie. The only things you young persons think seriously about are loud music and sex. Trust me — these are closely related to college.)

College is basically a bunch of rooms where you sit for roughly two thousand hours and try to memorize things. The two thousand hours are spread out over four years; you spend the rest of the time sleeping and trying to get dates.

Basically, you learn two kinds of things in college:

• Things you will need to know in later life (two hours)
o These include how to make collect telephone calls and get beer stains out of your pajamas
• Things you will not need to know in later life (1,998 hours)
o These are the things you learn in classes whose names end in -ology, -osophy, -istry, -ics, and so on.
o The idea is, you memorize these things, then write them down in little exam books, then forget them. If you fail to forget them, you become a professor and stay in college for the rest of your life.

It’s very difficult to forget everything. For example, when I was in college, I had to memorize — don’t ask me why — the names of three metaphysical poets other than John Donne. I have managed to forget one of them, but I still remember that the other two were named Vaughan and Crashaw. Sometimes, when I’m trying to remember something important like whether my wife told me to get tuna packed in oil or tuna packed in water, Vaughan and Crashaw just pop up in my mind, right there in the supermarket. It’s a terrible waste of brain cells.

After you’ve been in college for a year or so, you’re supposed to choose a major, which is the subject you intend to memorize and forget the most things about. Here is a very important piece of advice: Be sure to choose a major that does not involve Known Facts and Right Answers. This means you must not major in mathematics, physics, biology, or chemistry, because these subjects involve actual facts.

If, for example, you major in mathematics, you’re going to wander into class one day and the professor will say: “Define the cosine integer of the quadrant of a rhomboid binary axis, and extrapolate your result to five significant vertices.” If you don’t come up with exactly the answer the professor has in mind, you fail. The same is true of chemistry: if you write in your exam book that carbon and hydrogen combine to form oak, your professor will flunk you. He wants you to come up with the same answer he and all the other chemists have agreed on. Scientists are extremely snotty about this.
So you should major in subjects like English, philosophy, psychology, and sociology — subjects in which nobody really understands what anybody else is talking about, and which involve virtually no actual facts. I attended classes in all these subjects, so I’ll give you a quick overview of each:

This involves writing papers about long books you have read little snippets of just before class. Here is a tip on how to get good grades on your English papers: Never say anything about a book that anybody with any common sense would say. For example, suppose you are studying Moby-Dick. Anybody with any common sense would say that Moby-Dick is a big white whale, since the characters in the book refer to it as a big white whale roughly eleven thousand times. So in your paper, you say Moby-Dick is actually the Republic of Ireland. Your professor, who is sick to death of reading papers and never liked Moby-Dick anyway, will think you are enormously creative. If you can regularly come up with lunatic interpretations of simple stories, you should major in English.

Basically, this involves sitting in a room and deciding there is no such thing as reality and then going to lunch. You should major in philosophy if you plan to take a lot of drugs.

This involves talking about rats and dreams. Psychologists are obsessed with rats and dreams. I once spent an entire semester training a rat to punch little buttons in a certain sequence, then training my roommate to do the same thing. The rat learned much faster. My roommate is now a doctor. If you like rats or dreams, and above all if you dream about rats, you should major in psychology.

For sheer lack of intelligibility, sociology is far and away the number one subject. I sat through hundreds of hours of sociology courses, and read gobs of sociology writing, and I never once heard or read a coherent statement. This is because sociologists want to be considered scientists, so they spend most of their time translating simple, obvious observations into scientific-sounding code. If you plan to major in sociology, you’ll have to learn to do the same thing.
For example, suppose you have observed that children cry when they fall down. You should write: “Methodological observation of the sociometrical behavior tendencies of prematurated isolates indicates that a casual relationship exists between groundward tropism and lachrymatory, or ‘crying,’ behavior forms.”

If you can keep this up for fifty or sixty pages, you will get a large government grant.
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For Adults Only
Once upon a time there lived a king.
The king had a beautiful daughter, The PRINCESS.

But there was a problem. Everything the princess touched would melt.
No matter what;
Anything she touched would melt.

Because of this, men were afraid of her. Nobody would dare marry her.

The king despaired. What could he do to help his daughter?

He consulted his wizards and magicians. One wizard told the king, ‘If your daughter touches one thing that does not melt in her hands, she will be cured.’

The king was overjoyed and came up with a plan.

The next day, he held a competition. Any man that could bring his daughter an object that would not melt would marry her and inherit the king’s wealth…


The first brought a sword of the finest steel.

But alas, when the princess touched it, it melted.
The prince went away sadly.

The second prince brought diamonds.

He thought diamonds are the hardest substance in the world and would not melt. But alas, once the princess touched them, they melted.

He too was sent away disappointed.

The third prince approached. He told the princess, ‘Put your hand in my pocket and feel what is in there.’

The princess did as she was told, though she turned red.

She felt something hard. She held it in her hand.
And it did not melt!!!

The king was overjoyed. Everybody in the kingdom was overjoyed.

And the third prince married the princess and they both lived happily ever after.

Question: What was in the prince’s pants?

M&M’s of course.

They melt in your mouth, not in your hand.

What were you thinking??

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Wine Without Whining
I’m going to do you a big favor. I’m going to free you from feelings of inadequacy that have been haunting you since sometime in your teens. I’m going to fill you in on the greatest scam ever perpetrated upon the consuming public. I’m going to tell you what I know about wine.

The bottom line is that wine tastes awful. It’s just grape juice gone south (forgive me, southerners). All the millions of poor slobs dutifully disguising the revolted pucker behind looks of thoughtful analysis, parroting gibberish of which they’ve no idea of the meaning, studying for hours so as not to be humiliated by menial restaurant employees once again, have fallen for a complex and insidious canard (see COLD DUCK). An “acquired taste” they call it. Well, you could acquire a taste for Ivory soap.

Herewith is a glossary of selected wine terms and what they really mean:

French for “Trust me”

A bad smell that comes from the grapes; See BOUQUET

Wine so awful that it isn’t worth aging.

A bad smell that’s added during processing; See NOSE

Describes a wine that sneaks up on you and stabs you in the back. Or a wine dealer. From the Latin, “Et tu, Brute”

The pope’s new house was paid for by swindling buyers into paying the price for this wine.

Hurts your throat while swallowing.

Tastes like children’s cough medicine. See ROBUST

What well-born wine snobs talk.

The total effect of AROMA and BOUQUET; something you wish you could hold while drinking.

Tastes like cough medicine. See FRUITY

Many people mistakenly pronounce this to rhyme with Jose. A term for a pinkish wine, named for what an early commentator said his cheeks did when he tasted it.

Having the worst qualities of a single type of grape, rather than a mixture of sins.

How many years we’ve been trying to get rid of this rotgut.
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Coma Wife
The woman’s husband had been slipping in and out of a coma for several months, yet she had stayed by his bedside every single day. One day, when he came to, he motioned for her to come nearer.

As she sat by him, he whispered, eyes full of tears, “You know what? You have been with me all through the bad times When I got fired, you were there to support me. When my business failed, you were there. When I got shot, you were by my side. When we lost the house, you stayed right here. When my health started failing, you were still by my side… You know what?”

“What dear?” She gently asked, smiling as her heart began to fill with warmth.

“I think you’re bad luck.”
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Disney's Moby Dick
Recently, I saw Disney’s “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”, and this gave me the idea what would happen if classic writers were employed by Disney. The question is that the marketing reps would require classic literature to be rewritten to make them more marketable. For example, this might be a conversation between Herman Melville and a marketing rep from Disney.

(MR will stand for Marketing Rep)

What if Herman Melville worked for Disney?

MR: Mr. Melville, I have read your book “Moby Dick”, and it has some good points to it, but we would like you to make some changes to it.
Melville: I don’t understand.
MR: Well, we like the fact the story is about a whale. Kids like animals. We also like the fact that there is a multi-racial crew aboard the Pequod. Queequeg is magnificent. I think Starbuck should be an African-American. However, there are still a few changes we would like you to make.
Melville: Changes?
MR: Yes. For example, there are no women aboard the Pequod. How are we going to sell this story if there is no woman for Ishmael to fall in love with?
Melville: But, there are no women on whalers.
MR: Well, you got a point there, but we still need a woman on the boat. I got it, she can be a princess that is running away from her evil father because she’s going to marry a total jerk.
Melville: There are no princesses in New England.
MR: Yeah, right. I know. She is an animal rights activist and doesn’t believe that they should kill whales. So, she stows away to stop the crew from killing any whales.
Melville: But the whole point is that they kill whales to make their living.
MR: You want this to sell, don’t you? Then we have a woman that will “save the whales”. We need a name. Jasmine, already taken. Belle, no. Esmeralda, no, we gave that one to Hugo. I got it, Cellina. Yeah, Cellina the woman from Greenpeace.
Melville: Green who?
MR: OK, now this Ishmael character. He’s too dark and depressed. We need him to be strong and handsome so that Cellina can fall in love with him.
Melville: But being depressed is the reason he’s going out to sea.
MR: No, he should be into adventure. Listen to this. Ishmael catches Cellina stowing away. However, instead of him turning her in, he decides to help her to save the whales. At risk of his own life, because if they are caught, Captain Ahab will feed them both to the sharks.
Melville: Why would Ishmael help her? He’s signed aboard a whaling ship, you know?
MR: Well, it’s because he sees Cellina’s hour glass figure, her smile, her long beautiful blonde hair, her passion for whales.
Melville: Whoa! He’s going to betray the entire ship for one woman?
MR: Well, Ishmael is an adventurer. He doesn’t really realize what they (the crew) are doing by killing whales. This will be the tension in his relationship with Cellina. She convinces him that what they’re doing is wrong.
Melville: Hold on. Ishmael doesn’t know what they’re doing to the whales? He’s signed on to a whaling ship. I think it would be obvious.
MR: Also, Moby Dick doesn’t have a big enough part in the book. I got it. Ishmael and Cellina befriend the whale. They talk to him at night while nobody else notices. Yeah, and Moby has two side kick dolphins, Francesca and Riggoletto. Yeah, kids love dolphins…..
Melville: The whale talks?…
MR: Sure he does! How else can we make stuffed animal toys to sell?
Melville: And nobody else is going to notice that a great white whale is right next to the boat?
MR: No, they’re all asleep. That is except for Captain Ahab’s evil sidekick parrot, Iago. Oh no, Iago is Jafar’s evil sidekick parrot. I got it: Rasputin. The parrot tells Ahab, then Ahab spies on Ishmael and Cellina to wait for Moby Dick to talk to them. Then Ahab wakes the whole crew so that they can try to kill the whale. Cellina blames Ishmael for this. However, Ishmael sabotages the harpoons in a big fight sequence. Then this typhoon comes and Cellina falls overboard. Ishmael tries to help her, but he can’t because he’s in a fight with Queequeg and Starbuck. Moby dives into the water and rescues Cellina. Then, lightning hits the main sail. Water rushes over the deck. The ship is blown apart. All the crew is in the water drowning. Cellina convinces Moby to save the crew which he does. He puts them all on his back. Then Captain Ahab and Rasputin come up with a big harpoon in a long boat. Ahab says “Now I got you, Moby Dick!!!” Well, at that point Cellina screams, and Ishmael shouts “No!!!” But Right as Ahab is about to throw the harpoon, he is knocked overboard by Francesca and Riggoletto. Ahab is last seen swimming for his life because two sharks (Annastasia and Nikoli) are chasing him and the parrot. The final scene has the whole crew on another boat where the captain is marrying Ishmael and Cellina with Moby Dick, Francesca, and Rigoletto jumping in and out of the water like you see in those Sea World shows…….
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Colonoscopy Journal By Dave Barry
ABOUT THE WRITER: Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.

I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy.

A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis.
Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner.

I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn’t really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, ‘HE’S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!’

I left Andy’s office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called ‘MoviPrep,’ which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America ‘s enemies..

I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous.

Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn’t eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor.

Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons). Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes – and here I am being kind – like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.

The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, ‘a loose, watery bowel movement may result.’

This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.

MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don’t want to be too graphic, here, but, have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.

After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep.

The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous.
Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, ‘What if I spurt on Andy?’ How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.

At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked..

Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep.
At first I was ticked off that I hadn’t thought of this, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode.
You would have no choice but to burn your house.

When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point..

Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand.

There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was ‘Dancing Queen’ by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, ‘Dancing Queen’ had to be the least appropriate.

‘You want me to turn it up?’ said Andy, from somewhere behind me..

‘Ha ha,’ I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.

I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling ‘Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,’ and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.

Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.

On the subject of Colonoscopies.
Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite humorous….. A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies:

1. Take it easy Doc. You’re boldly going where no man has gone before.
2. ‘Find Amelia Earhart yet?’
3. ‘Can you hear me NOW?’
4. ‘Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?’
5. ‘You know, in Arkansas, we’re now legally married.’
6. ‘Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?’
7. ‘You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out…’
8. ‘Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!’
9. ‘If your hand doesn’t fit, you must quit!’
10. ‘Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.’
11. ‘You used to be an executive at Enron, didn’t you?’
12. ‘God, now I know why I am not gay.’
And the best one of all:
13. ‘Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?’
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Genie And The Taliban
Three guys: a Canadian, Osama bin Laden, and Uncle Sam are out walking together one day. They come across a lantern and a genie pops out of it.
“I will give each of you each one wish. That’s three wishes total,” says the genie

The Canadian says, “I’m a farmer, my dad was a farmer, and my son will also farm. I want the land to be forever fertile in Canada.”

With a blink of the genie’s eye, *POOF* the land in Canada was forever made fertile for farming.

Bin Laden was amazed, so he said, “I want a wall around Afghanistan, so that no infidels, Jews, or Americans can come into our precious state.”

Again, with a blink of the genie’s eye, *POOF* there was a huge wall around Afghanistan.

“Uncle Sam” (A former civil engineer), asks, “I’m very curious. Please tell me more about this wall.”

The Genie explains, “Well, it’s about 15,000 feet high, 500 feet thick, and completely surrounds the country; nothing can get in or out – it’s virtually impenetrable.”

Uncle Sam says, “Fill it with water.”
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How To Install A Home Security System
1. Go to a second-hand store and buy a pair of men’s used size 14-16 work boots.

2. Place them on your front porch, along with several empty beer cans, a copy of Guns & Ammo magazine and several NRA magazines.

3. Put a few giant dog dishes next to the boots and magazine.

4. Leave a note on your door that reads: Hey Bubba, Big Jim, Duke and Slim, I went to the gun shop for more ammunition. Back in an hour. Don’t mess with the pit bulls — they attacked the mailman this morning and messed him up real bad. I don’t think Killer took part in it but it was hard to tell from all the blood.

PS – I locked all four of ‘em in the house. Better wait outside.
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Costume Party
A couple was invited to a swanky costume party. Unfortunately, the wife came down with a terrible headache and told her husband to go to the party alone.

He being a devoted husband protested, but she argued and said she was going to take some aspirin and go to bed and there was no need for his good time being spoiled by not going.

So he took his costume and away he went.
The wife, after sleeping soundly for about an hour, awakened without pain and, as it was still early enough, decided to go the party.

Since her husband did not know what her costume was, she thought she would have some fun by watching her husband to see how he acted when she was not with him.

She joined the party and soon spotted her husband cavorting around on the dance floor, dancing with every nice woman he could, and copping a little touch here and a little kiss there.

His wife sidled up to him and being a rather seductive babe herself, he left his current partner high and dry and devoted his time to the new babe that had just arrived. She let him go as far as he wished… Naturally, (since he was her husband.)

Finally, he whispered a little proposition in her ear and she agreed. So off they went to one of the cars and had a quickie.

Just before unmasking at midnight, she slipped away, went home, put the costume away and got into bed, wondering what kind of explanation he would make for his behavior..

She was sitting up reading when he came in, and she asked what kind of a time he had.

He said: “Oh, the same old thing. You know I never have a good time when you’re not there.”

- “Did you dance much?”
- “You know, I never even danced one dance.”

When I got there, I met Pete, Bill Browning and some other guys, so we went into the den and played poker all evening…But you’re not going to believe what happened to the guy I loaned my costume to…”
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How to Handle the IRS
by Dave Barry
(I know this is out of date but it’s still funny as hell!)
It is time once again for our annual feature “Tax Advice for Humans,” the column that explains our complex federal tax laws to you in simple, everyday terms that have virtually nothing to do with reality. This is the only tax-advice column that has the courage to give you the following written guarantee in writing:

“If, as a result of following the advice in this column, you are for any reason whatsoever confined to a federal prison, we will personally come and live in your house, until your refrigerator is out of beer.”

So let’s get started! Most likely the foremost question in your mind, as you prepare to fill out your federal tax forms, is: “Can I cheat?” A lot of taxpayers are thinking that this is a good year to take advantage of the Internal Revenue Service, because of the way it got hammered in those congressional hearings last September. Remember? One by one, taxpayers went before the Senate Finance Committee and told alarming stories like this:
“I got a letter from the IRS computer stating that I owed taxes back to the year 427 B.C., which seemed like a mistake, plus the letter addressed me as `The Dionne Quintuplets,’ so I went down to the IRS office to straighten things out, and the next thing I knew I was being dangled from a helicopter by one leg.”

When the nation heard these stories, everybody was outraged. The IRS formally apologized to the taxpayers and ordered the dismantling of the agency’s primary guillotine.

So a lot of people are thinking that this year, while the IRS is under fire, is a good time to “play fast and loose” with their tax returns, and maybe even get revenge for the years of abuse by yanking the IRS’ chain a little bit. One leading tax-preparation firm, which I will not identify here except by its initials, “H” and “R,” has gone so far as to write taunting remarks in the margins of its clients’ tax returns, such as:

“Hey Audit Breath! If you don’t believe I spent a 100 percent deductible total of $224,123 on Pez, perhaps you would like me to complain to the Senate Finance Committee?”

“No I shall not enclose Form 10448275-J! I shall use Form 10448275-K for INTIMATE HYGIENE PURPOSES HAHAHAHA!”

This kind of thing is of course a lot of fun, but we are not recommending it. What many people do not realize is that, after the IRS finished publicly apologizing to the taxpayers who testified against it last September, it quietly tracked them down and relieved them of all of their worldly possessions including corneas.

So we are not recommending that you cheat. You should heed the words of IRS commissioner Charles Rossotti, who, in this year’s Letter to Taxpayers, states: “Every citizen owes it to the nation to pay his or her fair share of taxes, unless of course he or she has made a whopping cash contribution to a key congressperson or President Bill `Mr. Coffee’ Clinton or Vice President Al `I Honestly Thought That They Were Just A Bunch Of Very Wealthy Buddhist Nuns!’ Gore.”

Here are some questions that you are likely to ask in preparing your tax returns this year:

Q. Did the government change the tax laws again?
A. Ha Ha! That is the stupidest question we have ever heard! Of COURSE the government changed the tax laws! The government had no choice! The government found out that, despite the fact that the U.S. Tax Code is larger than the entire state of Connecticut, there was still one U.S. taxpayer, Norbridge K. Trongle Jr., who was able to correctly prepare his own tax return. The government considered handling this threat to the national security by sending a B-2 “Stealth” bomber to destroy Mr. Trongle’s house and financial records, but the Air Force vetoed this plan because of the risk that the $2 billion plane would be brought down by Mr. Trongle’s lawn sprinkler. So the House and Senate Joint Tax Mutation Committee swung into action and made a number of significant changes to the Tax Code, which you need to know about.

Q. What, specifically, are these changes?
A. Nobody knows.

Q. How many taxpayers will have their total income-tax payments, for the entire year, used to provide food, housing, transportation, medical care, Secret Service protection and chew toys for Buddy, the new White House dog?
A. White House spokes human Mike McCurry says that the “best estimate” is currently “around 300 taxpayers,” but notes that this number could rise significantly “if Buddy is implicated in this Whitewater thing.”

Q. In your opinion, what is the single most common error that I am likely to make, as a taxpayer?
A. In our opinion, that would be having “light” beer in your refrigerator.

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First Time Sex
A girl asks her boyfriend to come over Friday night to meet, and have a dinner with her parents.

Since this is such a big event, the girl announces to her boyfriend that after dinner, she would like to go out and make love for the first time.

The boy is ecstatic, but he has never had sex before, so he takes a trip to the pharmacist to get some condoms.. He tells the pharmacist it’s his first time and the pharmacist helps the boy for about an hour. He tells the boy everything there is to know about condoms and sex. At the register, the pharmacist asks the boy how many condoms he’d like to buy, a 3-pack, 10-pack, or family pack. The boy insists on the family pack because he thinks he will be rather busy, it being his first time and all.

That night, the boy shows up at the girl’s parents house and meets his girlfriend at the door. “Oh, I’m so excited for you to meet my parents, come on in!”

The boy goes inside and is taken to the dinner table where the girl’s parents are seated. The boy quickly offers to say grace and bows his head. A minute passes, and the boy is still deep in prayer, with his head down.

10 minutes pass, and still no movement from the boy.

Finally, after 20 minutes with his head down, the girlfriend leans over and whispers to the boyfriend, ‘I had no idea you were this religious.’

The boy turns, and whispers back, ‘I had no idea your father was a pharmacist.’
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HMO Logic
The phone rings and the lady of the house answers,

“Hello. Mrs. Ward, please.”


“Mrs. Ward, this is Doctor Jones at the Medical Testing Laboratory. When your doctor sent your husband’s biopsy to the lab yesterday, a biopsy from another Mr. Ward arrived as well, and we are now uncertain which one is your husband’s. Frankly the results are either bad or terrible.”

“What do you mean?” asked Mrs. Ward nervously.

“Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer’s, and the other one tested positive for AIDS. We can’t tell which is your husband’s.”

“That’s dreadful! Can’t you do the test again?” asked Mrs. Ward.

Normally we can, but both patient’s HMO’s will only pay for these expensive tests one time.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do now?” asked Mrs. Ward.

“The people at your HMO recommend that you drop your husband off somewhere in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don’t sleep with him.”
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Johnny was 8 years old and like other boys his age rather curious. He had been hearing quite a bit about ‘courting’ from the older boys, and he wondered what it was and how it was done.
One day he took his question to his mother, who became rather flustered.

Instead of explaining things to Johnny, she told him to hide behind the curtains one night and watch his older sister and her boyfriend. This he did. The following morning, Johnny described EVERYTHING to his mother. ‘Sis and her boyfriend sat and talked for a while, then he started kissing and hugging her I figured ‘Sis must be getting sick because her face started looking funny.
He must have thought so too, because he put his hand inside her blouse to feel her heart, just the way the doctor would. Except he’s not as smart as the doctor because he seemed to have trouble finding her heart. I guess he was getting sick too, because pretty soon both of them started panting and getting all out of breath.

His other hand must have been cold because he put it under her skirt. About this time ‘Sis got worse and began to moan and sigh and squirm around and slide down toward the end of the couch. This was when her fever started. I knew it was a fever, because Sis told him she felt really hot. Finally, I found out what was making them so sick — a big eel had gotten inside his pants somehow. It just jumped out of his pants and stood there, about 10 inches long, honest, anyway he grabbed it in one hand to keep it from getting away. When Sis saw it, she got really scared — her eyes got big, and her mouth fell open, and she started calling out to God and stuff like that. She said it was the biggest one she’s ever seen I should tell her about the ones down at the lake by our house!

Anyway, Sis got brave and tried to kill the eel by biting its head off. All of a sudden she grabbed it with both hands and held it tight while he took a muzzle out of his pocket and slipped it over the eel’s head to keep it from biting again. Sis lay back and spread her legs so she could get a scissor-lock on it and he helped by lying on top of the eel. The eel put up a hell of a fight. Sis started groaning and squealing and her boyfriend almost upset the couch. I guess they wanted to kill the eel by squashing it between them. Her boyfriend got up, and sure enough, they killed the eel. I knew because it just hung there, limp, and some of its insides were hanging out. Sis and her boyfriend were a little tired from the battle, but they went back to courting anyway.

He started hugging and kissing her again. By golly, the eel wasn’t dead! It jumped straight up and started to fight again. I guess eels are like cats — they have nine lives or something. This time, Sis jumped up and tried to kill it by sitting on it. After about a 35 minute struggle, they finally killed the eel. I knew it was dead, because I saw Sis’s boyfriend peel its skin off and flush it down the toilet.
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Gossip Backlash
The town gossip (and supervisor of the town’s morals) recently accused a local man of being an alcoholic because she saw his pickup truck parked outside the town’s only bar.

The man stared at her for a moment, said nothing, and walked away.

Later that evening, he parked his pickup truck in front of her house and left it there all night.
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Having A Bad Day?
In a hospital’s Intensive Care Unit, patients always died in the same bed, on Sunday morning, at about 11:00 a.m., regardless of their medical condition.

This puzzled the doctors and some even thought it had something to do with the supernatural. No one could solve the mystery as to why the deaths occurred around 11:00 a.m. on Sunday, so a worldwide team of experts was assembled to investigate the cause of the incidents.

The next Sunday morning, a few minutes before 11:00 a.m., all of the doctors and nurses nervously waited outside the ward to see for themselves what the terrible phenomenon was all about.

Just when the clock struck 11:00, the part-time Sunday sweeper, entered the ward and unplugged the life support system so he could use the vacuum cleaner.

So You Think Your Having a Bad Day????

The average cost of rehabilitating a seal after the Exxon Valdez Oil spill in Alaska was $80,000.00. At a special ceremony, two of the most expensively saved animals were being released back into the wild amid cheers and applause from onlookers. A minute later, in full view, a killer whale ate them both.

Still think you are having a Bad Day????

A woman came home to find her husband in the kitchen shaking frantically, almost in a dancing frenzy, with some kind of wire running from his waist towards the electric kettle. Intending to jolt him away from the deadly current, she whacked him with a handy plank of wood, breaking his arm in two places. Up to that moment, he had been happily listening to his Walkman.

STILL think you’re having a Bad Day????

Two animal rights defenders were protesting the cruelty of sending pigs to a slaughterhouse in Bonn, Germany. Suddenly, all two thousand pigs broke loose and escaped through a broken fence, stampeding madly. The two helpless protesters were trampled to death.

What?? STILL having a Bad Day????

The terrorist Khay Rahnajet didn’t pay enough postage on a letter bomb. It came back with “Return to Sender” stamped on it. Forgetting it was the bomb, he opened it and was blown to bits.

There! Now you feeling Better?
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Diary Of A Viagra Housewife
Day 1
Just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary with not much to celebrate. When the time came to re-enact our wedding night, he locked himself in the bathroom and cried.

Day 2
Today, he says he has a big secret to tell me. He’s impotent, he says, and he wants me to be the first to know. Why doesn’t he tell me something I don’t know! I mean, does he actually think I haven’t noticed?

Day 3
This marriage is in trouble. A woman has needs. Yesterday, I saw a picture of Nelson’s Column and burst into tears.

Day 4
A miracle has happened! There’s a new drug on the market that will fix his ‘problem’. It’s called Viagra. I told him that if he takes Viagra, things will be just like they were on our wedding night. I think this will work. I replaced his Prozac with the Viagra, hoping to lift something other than his mood.

Day 5
What absolute bliss!

Day 6
Life sure is wonderful, but it’s hard to write when he’s doing that.

Day 7
This Viagra thing has really gone to his head. No pun intended! Yesterday, at Burger King, the manager asked me if I’d like a Whopper. He thought they were talking about him. But, I have to admit it’s very nice — I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.

Day 8
I think he took too many over the weekend. Yesterday, instead of mowing the lawn, he was using his new friend as a weed wacker. I’m also getting a bit sore down there.

Day 9
No time to write. He might catch me.

Day 10
Okay, I admit it. I’m hiding. I mean, a girl can only take so much. And to make matters worse, he’s washing the Viagra down with neat whiskey! What am going to do? I feel tacky all over…

Day 11
I’m basically being screwed to death. It’s like living with a Black and Decker drill. I woke up this morning hot-glued to the bed. Even my armpits hurt. He’s a complete pig.

Day 12
I wish he was gay. I’ve stopped wearing make-up, cleaning my teeth or even washing, but he still keeps coming after me! Even yawning has become dangerous…

Day 13
Every time I shut my eyes, there’s a sneak attack! It’s like going to bed with a scud missile. I can hardly walk and if he tries that “Oops, sorry” thing again, I’ll kill the jerk.

Day 14
I’ve done everything to turn him off. Nothing is working. I even started dressing like a nun, but it just seems to make him more horny. Help me!

Day 15
I think I’ll have to kill him. I’m starting to stick to everything I sit on. The cat and dog won’t go near him and our friends don’t come over any more. Last night I told him to go screw himself and he did.

Day 16
The jerk has started to complain about headaches. I hope the bloody thing explodes. I did suggest he might try stopping the Viagra and going back on Prozac.

Day 17
Switched the pills but it doesn’t seem to have made any difference… Dear Lord! Here he comes again!

Day 18
He’s back on Prozac. The lazy sod just sits there in front of the TV all day with that remote control in his hand and expects me to do everything for him. What absolute bliss!
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For Wine Lovers
Wal-Mart announced that they will soon be offering customers a new discount item: Wal-Mart’s own brand of wine. The world’s largest retail chain is teaming up with E&J Gallo Winery of California, to produce the spirits at an affordable price, in the $2-5 range.

Wine connoisseurs may not be inclined to throw a bottle of Wal-Mart brand into their shopping carts, but “there is a market for cheap wine”, said Kathy Micken, professor of marketing. She said: “But the right name is important.”

Customer surveys were conducted to determine the most attractive name for the Wal-Mart brand. The top surveyed names in order of popularity are:

10. Chateau Traileur Parc
9. White Trashfindel
8. Big Red Gulp
7. World Championship Riesling
6. NASCARbernet
5. Chef Boyardeaux
4. Peanut Noir
3. I Can’t Believe It’s Not Vinegar!
2. Grape Expectations

And the number 1 name for Wal-Mart Wine:
1. Nasti Spumante

The beauty of Wal-Mart wine is that it can be served with either white meat (Possum) or red meat (Squirrel).

Bottoms Up!
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Important Health Issue
Do you have feelings of inadequacy?
Do you suffer from shyness?
Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about Margaritas.

Margaritas are the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions. Margaritas can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you’re ready and willing to do just about anything.

You will notice the benefits of Margaritas almost immediately. And with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live. Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past and you will discover many talents you never knew you had. Stop hiding and start living, with Margaritas. Margaritas may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Margaritas. However, women who wouldn’t mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.

Side effects may include: Dizziness, Nausea, Vomiting, Incarceration, Erotic lustfulness, Loss of motor control, Loss of clothing, Loss of money, Loss of vir ginity, Table dancing, Headache, Dehydration, Dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke.

WARNING: The consumption of Margaritas may make you think you are whispering when you are not, may cause you to tell your friends over and over again that you love them, may cause you to think you can sing, and make you think you can logically converse with members of the opposite sex without spitting.

Please share this with others who may need Margarita therapy.
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Art In Ireland
At the National Art Gallery in Dublin, a husband and wife were staring at a portrait that had them completely confused.

The painting depicted 3 black men totally naked, sitting on a bench. Two of the figures had black penises, but the one in the middle had a pink penis.

The curator of the gallery realized that they were having trouble interpreting the painting and offered his personal assessment. He went on for over half an hour explaining how it depicted the sexual emasculation of African Americans in a predominately white, patriarchal society. ‘In fact’, he pointed out, ‘some serious critics believe that the pink penis also reflects the cultural and sociological oppression experienced by gay men in contemporary society’.

After the curator left, an Irishman approached the couple and said, ‘Would you like to know what the painting is really about?’ ‘Now why would you claim to be more of an expert than the curator of the gallery’, asked the couple? ‘Because I am the artist, who painted the picture,’ he replied. ‘In fact, there are no African Americans depicted at all. They’re just three Irish coal miners. The guy in the middle went home for lunch.
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