Jokes needed
A motorcycle patrolman was rushed to the hospital with an inflamed appendix. The doctors operated and advised him that all was well.
However, the patrolman kept feeling something pulling at the hairs in his crotch. Worried that it might be a second surgery and the doctors hadn't told him about it, he finally got enough energy to pull his hospital gown up enough so he could look at what was making him so uncomfortable.
Taped firmly across his pubic hair were three wide strips of adhesive tape, the kind that doesn't come off easily.
Written in large black letters was the sentence:
"Get well soon....from the nurse in the Jeep you pulled over last week..."
However, the patrolman kept feeling something pulling at the hairs in his crotch. Worried that it might be a second surgery and the doctors hadn't told him about it, he finally got enough energy to pull his hospital gown up enough so he could look at what was making him so uncomfortable.
Taped firmly across his pubic hair were three wide strips of adhesive tape, the kind that doesn't come off easily.
Written in large black letters was the sentence:
"Get well soon....from the nurse in the Jeep you pulled over last week..."
The hospital had elected a new board of directors, and the hospital manager was taking them on a tour of the facility. As they walked past one room the door was slightly ajar and they saw a man furiously masturbating.
"My god, what is going on here?" said one of the new board members.
"Oh, we let him do that," said the manager. "You see, he has a rare disorder where sperm builds up in his gonads. If he does not clear it out four times a day, he might die of a rupture."
The tour then proceeded down the hall, where the next door was also ajar. In there they saw a nurse performing fellatio on a patient.
Without missing a beat, the manager said, "Same disease as the last room-- but he has a better health plan."
"My god, what is going on here?" said one of the new board members.
"Oh, we let him do that," said the manager. "You see, he has a rare disorder where sperm builds up in his gonads. If he does not clear it out four times a day, he might die of a rupture."
The tour then proceeded down the hall, where the next door was also ajar. In there they saw a nurse performing fellatio on a patient.
Without missing a beat, the manager said, "Same disease as the last room-- but he has a better health plan."
A duck hunter was out enjoying a nice morning on the marsh when he decided to take a leak.
He walked over to a tree and propped up his gun.
Just then a gust of wind blew, the gun fell over, and it discharged, shooting him in the genitals.
Several hours later, lying in a hospital bed, he was approached by his doctor.
'Well sir, I have some good news and some bad news.
The good news is that you are going to be OK.
The damage was local to your groin, there was very little internal damage, and we were able to remove all of
the buckshot.'
'What's the bad news,' asked the hunter.
"The bad news is that there was some pretty extensive buckshot damage done to your penis. I'm going to have to refer you to my sister."
"Oh, well I guess that isn't too bad," the hunter replied. 'Is your sister a plastic surgeon."
"Not exactly," answered the doctor.
"She's a flute player in the local symphony and she's going to teach you where to put your fingers so you don't piss in your eye.
He walked over to a tree and propped up his gun.
Just then a gust of wind blew, the gun fell over, and it discharged, shooting him in the genitals.
Several hours later, lying in a hospital bed, he was approached by his doctor.
'Well sir, I have some good news and some bad news.
The good news is that you are going to be OK.
The damage was local to your groin, there was very little internal damage, and we were able to remove all of
the buckshot.'
'What's the bad news,' asked the hunter.
"The bad news is that there was some pretty extensive buckshot damage done to your penis. I'm going to have to refer you to my sister."
"Oh, well I guess that isn't too bad," the hunter replied. 'Is your sister a plastic surgeon."
"Not exactly," answered the doctor.
"She's a flute player in the local symphony and she's going to teach you where to put your fingers so you don't piss in your eye.
A man is driving down a deserted stretch of highway when he notices a sign
out of the corner of his eye....It reads:
SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS HOUSE OF PROSTITUTION
10 MILES
He thinks this is a figment of his imagination and drives on without second
thought....
Soon he sees another sign which reads:
SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS HOUSE OF PROSTITUTION
5 MILES
Suddenly he begins to realize that these signs are for real and drives past
a third sign saying:
SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS HOUSE OF PROSTITUTION NEXT RIGHT
His curiosity gets the best of him and he pulls into the drive. On the far
side of the parking lot is a stone building with a small sign next to the
door reading:
SISTERS OF ST. FR ANCIS
He climbs the steps and rings the bell. The door is answered by a nun in a
long black habit who asks, "What may we do for you my son?"
He answers, "I saw your signs along the highway and was interested in
possibly doing business...."
"Very well my son. Please follow me." He is led through many winding
passages and is soon quite disoriented. The nun stops at a closed door and
tells the man, "Please knock on this door."
He does so and another nun in a long habit, holding a tin cup answers the
door... This nun instructs, "Please place $100 in the cup then go through
the large wooden door at the end of the hallway."
He puts $100 in the cup, eagerly trots down the hall and slips through the
door pulling it shut behind him.
The door locks, and he finds himself back in the parking lot facing another
sign:
GO IN PEACE. YOU HAVE JUST BEEN SCREWED BY THE SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS.
SERVES YOU RIGHT, YOU SINNER
"God has not promised to keep us from life's storms, but to be with us through them"
out of the corner of his eye....It reads:
SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS HOUSE OF PROSTITUTION
10 MILES
He thinks this is a figment of his imagination and drives on without second
thought....
Soon he sees another sign which reads:
SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS HOUSE OF PROSTITUTION
5 MILES
Suddenly he begins to realize that these signs are for real and drives past
a third sign saying:
SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS HOUSE OF PROSTITUTION NEXT RIGHT
His curiosity gets the best of him and he pulls into the drive. On the far
side of the parking lot is a stone building with a small sign next to the
door reading:
SISTERS OF ST. FR ANCIS
He climbs the steps and rings the bell. The door is answered by a nun in a
long black habit who asks, "What may we do for you my son?"
He answers, "I saw your signs along the highway and was interested in
possibly doing business...."
"Very well my son. Please follow me." He is led through many winding
passages and is soon quite disoriented. The nun stops at a closed door and
tells the man, "Please knock on this door."
He does so and another nun in a long habit, holding a tin cup answers the
door... This nun instructs, "Please place $100 in the cup then go through
the large wooden door at the end of the hallway."
He puts $100 in the cup, eagerly trots down the hall and slips through the
door pulling it shut behind him.
The door locks, and he finds himself back in the parking lot facing another
sign:
GO IN PEACE. YOU HAVE JUST BEEN SCREWED BY THE SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS.
SERVES YOU RIGHT, YOU SINNER
"God has not promised to keep us from life's storms, but to be with us through them"
A man, shocked by how his buddy is dressed, asks him, How long have you been wearing that bra? The friend replies, Ever since my wife found it in the glove compartment.
A construction worker is sitting in a two-hole outhouse when another worker steps in. The second worker drops his pants and as he does, he sees a quarter fall out of his pocket down into the pit below. Damn! he says. He takes out his wallet, takes out a twenty and drops it into the filthy, smelly pit. The first guy says "DAMN! Why the hell did you do that!??"
The guy says "You don't think Im going down there for a quarter, do you?"
The guy says "You don't think Im going down there for a quarter, do you?"
One year, a husband decided to buy his mother-in-law a cemetery plot
as a Christmas gift.. The next year, he didn't buy her a gift.
When she asked him why, he replied, "Well, you still haven't used the
gift I bought you last year!"
And that's how the fight started.....
*************
I asked my wife, 'Where do you want to go for our anniversary?'
It warmed my heart to see her face melt in sweet appreciation.
'Somewhere I haven't been in a long time!' she said.
So I suggested, 'How about the kitchen?'
And that's when the fight started....
********************
My wife and I are watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire while we were
in bed. I turned to her and said, 'Do you want to have sex?'
'No,' she answered.
I then said, 'Is that your final answer?'
She didn't even look at me this time, simply saying 'Yes.'
So I said, 'Then I'd like to phone a friend.'
And that's when the fight started....
******************
I tried to talk my wife into buying a case of Miller Light for $14.95.
Instead, she bought a jar of cold cream for $7.95. I told her the beer would make her look better at night than the cold cream.
And that's when the fight started......
****************************
I took my wife to a restaurant. The waiter, for some reason, took my order first.
I'll have the strip steak, medium rare, please.'
He said, 'Aren't you worried about the mad cow?'
'Nah, she can order for herself.'
And that's when the fight started.....
*****************************
My wife sat down on the couch next to me as I was flipping the channels.
She asked, 'What's on TV? '
I said, 'Dust.'
And then the fight started...
================================
My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary.
She said, 'I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 200 in about 3 seconds.'
I bought her a scale.
And then the fight started...
===============================
My wife and I were sitting at a table at her high school reunion, and she kept staring at a drunken man swigging his drink as he sat alone at a nearby table.
I asked her , 'Do you know him?'
'Yes,' she sighed, ' He's my old boyfriend... I understand he took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear he hasn't been sober since.'
'My God!' I said, 'who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?'
And then the fight started...
=========================================================
I rear-ended a car this morning.. So, there we were alongside the road and slowly the other driver got out of his car.
You know how sometimes you just get soooo stressed and little things just seem funny?
Yeah, well I couldn't believe it.... he was a DWARF!!!
He stormed over to my car, looked up at me, and shouted, 'I AM NOT HAPPY!'
So, I looked down at him and said, 'Well, then which one are you?'
And then the fight started...
as a Christmas gift.. The next year, he didn't buy her a gift.
When she asked him why, he replied, "Well, you still haven't used the
gift I bought you last year!"
And that's how the fight started.....
*************
I asked my wife, 'Where do you want to go for our anniversary?'
It warmed my heart to see her face melt in sweet appreciation.
'Somewhere I haven't been in a long time!' she said.
So I suggested, 'How about the kitchen?'
And that's when the fight started....
********************
My wife and I are watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire while we were
in bed. I turned to her and said, 'Do you want to have sex?'
'No,' she answered.
I then said, 'Is that your final answer?'
She didn't even look at me this time, simply saying 'Yes.'
So I said, 'Then I'd like to phone a friend.'
And that's when the fight started....
******************
I tried to talk my wife into buying a case of Miller Light for $14.95.
Instead, she bought a jar of cold cream for $7.95. I told her the beer would make her look better at night than the cold cream.
And that's when the fight started......
****************************
I took my wife to a restaurant. The waiter, for some reason, took my order first.
I'll have the strip steak, medium rare, please.'
He said, 'Aren't you worried about the mad cow?'
'Nah, she can order for herself.'
And that's when the fight started.....
*****************************
My wife sat down on the couch next to me as I was flipping the channels.
She asked, 'What's on TV? '
I said, 'Dust.'
And then the fight started...
================================
My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary.
She said, 'I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 200 in about 3 seconds.'
I bought her a scale.
And then the fight started...
===============================
My wife and I were sitting at a table at her high school reunion, and she kept staring at a drunken man swigging his drink as he sat alone at a nearby table.
I asked her , 'Do you know him?'
'Yes,' she sighed, ' He's my old boyfriend... I understand he took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear he hasn't been sober since.'
'My God!' I said, 'who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?'
And then the fight started...
=========================================================
I rear-ended a car this morning.. So, there we were alongside the road and slowly the other driver got out of his car.
You know how sometimes you just get soooo stressed and little things just seem funny?
Yeah, well I couldn't believe it.... he was a DWARF!!!
He stormed over to my car, looked up at me, and shouted, 'I AM NOT HAPPY!'
So, I looked down at him and said, 'Well, then which one are you?'
And then the fight started...
Jul 9, 2009 at 2:55pm Edited
This is why guys don't have advice columns.
Dear Joe The Advice Guy:
I hope you can help me here. The other day, I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual. I hadn't driven more than a mile down the road when the engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help.
When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in our bedroom with the neighbor's daughter. I am 32, my husband is 34, and the neighbor girl is 22.
We have been married for ten years. When I confronted him, he broke down and admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months. I told him to stop or I would leave him. He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless.
I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become very distant. He won't go to counseling and I'm afraid I can't get through to him anymore.
Can you please help?
Sincerely,
Sheila
******************************
Dear Sheila:
A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the vacuum pipes and hoses on the intake
manifold and also check all grounding wires. If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the injectors.
I hope this helps!
Joe
Dear Joe The Advice Guy:
I hope you can help me here. The other day, I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual. I hadn't driven more than a mile down the road when the engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help.
When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in our bedroom with the neighbor's daughter. I am 32, my husband is 34, and the neighbor girl is 22.
We have been married for ten years. When I confronted him, he broke down and admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months. I told him to stop or I would leave him. He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless.
I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become very distant. He won't go to counseling and I'm afraid I can't get through to him anymore.
Can you please help?
Sincerely,
Sheila
******************************
Dear Sheila:
A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the vacuum pipes and hoses on the intake
manifold and also check all grounding wires. If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the injectors.
I hope this helps!
Joe
The wayward Catholic guy goes into the confessional box after years away from the Church. He notices on one side a fully equipped bar with Guinness on tap. On the other wall is a dazzling array of the finest Cuban cigars. Then the priest comes in.
"Father, forgive me, for it's been a very long time since I've been to confession, but I must first admit that the confessional box is much more inviting than it used to be." The priest replies "Get out. You're on my side."
"Father, forgive me, for it's been a very long time since I've been to confession, but I must first admit that the confessional box is much more inviting than it used to be." The priest replies "Get out. You're on my side."
I can't believe I heard this one while listening to the Mets game last night on the radio:
Announcer 1: Hey, did you hear about the guy who won $133 million in the lottery the other day? He lives in Queens!
Announcer 2: Yah, I bet he called his wife and said, "honey, great news, pack your bags, I won the lottery!"
"Great", she cries. Where are we going?"
After a pause, he said, "Who said anything about 'we'"?
Now, an old joke, mind you, but to hear it on the baseball broadcast, well, I was blown away. I can just imagine the phone calls and emails to WFAN.
Announcer 1: Hey, did you hear about the guy who won $133 million in the lottery the other day? He lives in Queens!
Announcer 2: Yah, I bet he called his wife and said, "honey, great news, pack your bags, I won the lottery!"
"Great", she cries. Where are we going?"
After a pause, he said, "Who said anything about 'we'"?
Now, an old joke, mind you, but to hear it on the baseball broadcast, well, I was blown away. I can just imagine the phone calls and emails to WFAN.
One day, in line at the company cafeteria, Jack says to Mike behind him, "My elbow hurts like heck. I guess I better see a doctor."
"Listen, you don't have to spend that kind of money," Mike replies. "There's a diagnostic computer down at Wal-Mart. Just give it a urine sample and the computer'll tell you what's wrong and what to do about it. It takes ten seconds and costs ten dollars... a lot cheaper than a doctor."
So Jack deposits a urine sample in a small jar and takes it to Wal-Mart. He deposits ten dollars, and the computer lights up and asks for the urine sample. He pours the sample into the slot and waits.
Ten seconds later, the computer ejects a printout: "You have tennis elbow. Soak your arm in warm water and avoid heavy activity. It will improve in two weeks."
That evening while thinking how amazing this new technology was, Jack began wondering if the computer could be fooled. He mixed some tap water, a stool sample from his dog, urine samples from his wife and daughter, and masturbated into the mixture for good measure.
Jack hurries back to Wal-Mart, eager to check the results. He deposits ten dollars, pours in his concoction, and awaits the results.
The computer prints the following:
1. Your tap water is too hard. Get a water softener.
2. Your dog has ringworm. Bathe him with anti-fungal shampoo.
3. Your daughter has a cocaine habit. Get her into rehab.
4. Your wife is pregnant. Twins. They aren't yours. Get a lawyer.
5. If you don't stop playing with yourself, your elbow will never get better.
"Listen, you don't have to spend that kind of money," Mike replies. "There's a diagnostic computer down at Wal-Mart. Just give it a urine sample and the computer'll tell you what's wrong and what to do about it. It takes ten seconds and costs ten dollars... a lot cheaper than a doctor."
So Jack deposits a urine sample in a small jar and takes it to Wal-Mart. He deposits ten dollars, and the computer lights up and asks for the urine sample. He pours the sample into the slot and waits.
Ten seconds later, the computer ejects a printout: "You have tennis elbow. Soak your arm in warm water and avoid heavy activity. It will improve in two weeks."
That evening while thinking how amazing this new technology was, Jack began wondering if the computer could be fooled. He mixed some tap water, a stool sample from his dog, urine samples from his wife and daughter, and masturbated into the mixture for good measure.
Jack hurries back to Wal-Mart, eager to check the results. He deposits ten dollars, pours in his concoction, and awaits the results.
The computer prints the following:
1. Your tap water is too hard. Get a water softener.
2. Your dog has ringworm. Bathe him with anti-fungal shampoo.
3. Your daughter has a cocaine habit. Get her into rehab.
4. Your wife is pregnant. Twins. They aren't yours. Get a lawyer.
5. If you don't stop playing with yourself, your elbow will never get better.
Three Jewish mothers are sitting on a bench in a shopping centre talking
about (what else?) how much their sons love them.
Sadie says "You know the Chagall painting hanging in my living room? My
son, Arnold, bought that for me for my 75th birthday. What a good boy he is
and how much he loves his mother."
Minnie says,"You call that love? You know the Mercedes I just got for
Mother's Day? That's from my son Bernie. What a doll."
Shirley says "That's nothing. You know my son Stanley? He's in analysis
with a psychoanalyst. Five sessions a week. And what does he talk about?
Me."
about (what else?) how much their sons love them.
Sadie says "You know the Chagall painting hanging in my living room? My
son, Arnold, bought that for me for my 75th birthday. What a good boy he is
and how much he loves his mother."
Minnie says,"You call that love? You know the Mercedes I just got for
Mother's Day? That's from my son Bernie. What a doll."
Shirley says "That's nothing. You know my son Stanley? He's in analysis
with a psychoanalyst. Five sessions a week. And what does he talk about?
Me."
Last year I replaced all the windows in my house with that expensive double-pane energy efficient kind and today, I got a call from the contractor who installed them. He was complaining that the work had been completed a whole year ago and I still hadn't paid for them.
Hellloooo,............just because I'm blonde doesn't mean that I am automatically stupid.
So, I told him just what his fast-talking sales guy had told me last year, that in ONE YEAR these windows would pay for themselves!
Helllooooo? It's been a year, I told him!
There was only silence at the other end of the line, so I finally just hung up. He never called back.
I bet he felt like an idiot.
Hellloooo,............just because I'm blonde doesn't mean that I am automatically stupid.
So, I told him just what his fast-talking sales guy had told me last year, that in ONE YEAR these windows would pay for themselves!
Helllooooo? It's been a year, I told him!
There was only silence at the other end of the line, so I finally just hung up. He never called back.
I bet he felt like an idiot.
THE IRISH PRIEST
An Irish priest was transferred to ** Texas **....
Father O'Malley rose from his bed one morning. It was a fine spring day in his new Texas mission parish. He walked to the window of his bedroom to get a deep breath of the beautiful day outside. He then noticed there was a jackass lying dead in the middle of his front lawn.
He promptly called the local police station . The conversation went like
this:
"Good morning. This is Sergeant Jones. How might I help you?"
"And the best of the day to yerself . This is Father O'Malley at St. Ann 's
Catholic Church. There's a jackass lying dead in me front lawn and would ye be so kind as to send a couple o'yer lads to take care of the matter?"
Sergeant Jones, considering himself to be quite a wit, replied with a smirk, "Well now Father, it was always my impression that you people took care of the last rites!"
There was dead silence on the line for a long moment.
Father O'Malley then replied: "Aye, 'tis certainly true; but we are also
obliged to notify the next of kin."
An Irish priest was transferred to ** Texas **....
Father O'Malley rose from his bed one morning. It was a fine spring day in his new Texas mission parish. He walked to the window of his bedroom to get a deep breath of the beautiful day outside. He then noticed there was a jackass lying dead in the middle of his front lawn.
He promptly called the local police station . The conversation went like
this:
"Good morning. This is Sergeant Jones. How might I help you?"
"And the best of the day to yerself . This is Father O'Malley at St. Ann 's
Catholic Church. There's a jackass lying dead in me front lawn and would ye be so kind as to send a couple o'yer lads to take care of the matter?"
Sergeant Jones, considering himself to be quite a wit, replied with a smirk, "Well now Father, it was always my impression that you people took care of the last rites!"
There was dead silence on the line for a long moment.
Father O'Malley then replied: "Aye, 'tis certainly true; but we are also
obliged to notify the next of kin."
This is why guys don't have advice columns.
Dear Joe The Advice Guy:
I hope you can help me here. The other day, I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual. I hadn't driven more than a mile down the road when the engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help.
When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in our bedroom with the neighbor's daughter. I am 32, my husband is 34, and the neighbor girl is 22.
We have been married for ten years. When I confronted him, he broke down and admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months. I told him to stop or I would leave him. He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless.
I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become very distant. He won't go to counseling and I'm afraid I can't get through to him anymore.
Can you please help?
Sincerely,
Sheila
******************************
Dear Sheila:
A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the vacuum pipes and hoses on the intake
manifold and also check all grounding wires. If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the injectors.
I hope this helps!
Joe
Dear Joe The Advice Guy:
I hope you can help me here. The other day, I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual. I hadn't driven more than a mile down the road when the engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help.
When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in our bedroom with the neighbor's daughter. I am 32, my husband is 34, and the neighbor girl is 22.
We have been married for ten years. When I confronted him, he broke down and admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months. I told him to stop or I would leave him. He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless.
I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become very distant. He won't go to counseling and I'm afraid I can't get through to him anymore.
Can you please help?
Sincerely,
Sheila
******************************
Dear Sheila:
A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the vacuum pipes and hoses on the intake
manifold and also check all grounding wires. If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the injectors.
I hope this helps!
Joe
So simple and yet so Irish!
So Paddy asks Murphy: "Why do Scuba divers always fall backwards off their boats?"
To which Murphy replies,"You Thick idiot - If they fell forwards they'd still be in The f*ckin' boat"
So Paddy asks Murphy: "Why do Scuba divers always fall backwards off their boats?"
To which Murphy replies,"You Thick idiot - If they fell forwards they'd still be in The f*ckin' boat"
It's a woman's world!
WOMAN'S PERFECT BREAKFAST
She's sitting at the table with her gourmet coffee.
Her son is on the cover of the Wheaties box.
Her daughter is on the cover of Business Week.
Her boyfriend is on the cover of Playgirl.
And her husband is on the back of the milk carton.
Keep reading-they get better!!!
WOMEN'S REVENGE
'Cash, check or charge?' I asked, after folding items the woman wished
to purchase.
As she fumbled for her wallet, I noticed a remote control for a
television set in her purse.
'So, do you always carry your TV remote?' I asked.
'No,' she replied, 'but my husband refused to come shopping with me,
and I figured this was the most evil thing I could do to him legally.'
________________________________
UNDERSTANDING WOMEN
(A MAN'S PERSPECTIVE)
I know I'm not going to understand women.
I'll never understand how you can take boiling hot wax,
pour it onto your upper thigh, rip the hair out by the root,
and still be afraid of a spider.
________________________________
WIFE VS. HUSBAND
A couple drove down a country road for several miles, not saying a word.
An earlier discussion had led to an argument and
neither of them wanted to concede their position..
As they passed a barnyard of mules, goats, and pigs,
the husband asked sarcastically, 'Relatives of yours?'
'Yep,' the wife replied, 'in-laws.'
________________________________
WORDS
A husband read an article to his wife about how many words women use a day.
30,000 to a man's 15,000.
The wife replied, 'The reason has to be because we have to repeat
everything to men....
The husband then turned to his wife and asked, 'What?'
________________________________
CREATION
A man said to his wife one day, 'I don't know how you can be
so stupid and so beautiful all at the same time.
'The wife responded, 'Allow me to explain.
God made me beautiful so you would be attracted to me;
God made me stupid so I would be attracted to you!
________________________________
WHO DOES WHAT
A man and his wife were having an argument about who
should brew the coffee each morning.
The wife said, 'You should do it because you get up first,
and then we don't have to wait as long to get our coffee.
The husband said, 'You are in charge of cooking around here and
you should do it, because that is your job, and I can just wait for my coffee.'
Wife replies, 'No, you should do it, and besides, it is in the Bible
that the man should do the coffee.'
Husband replies, 'I can't believe that, show me.'
So she fetched the Bible, and opened the New Testament and showed him
at the top of several pages, that it indeed says . 'HEBREWS'
________________________________
The Silent Treatment
A man and his wife were having some problems at home
and were giving each other the silent treatment.
Suddenly, the man realized that the next day, he would need his wife to wake him
at 5:00 AM for an early morning business flight.
Not wanting to be the first to break the silence (and LOSE), he wrote
on a piece of paper,
'Please wake me at 5:00 AM.' He left it where he knew she would find it.
The next morning, the man woke up, only to discover it was 9:00 AM and
he had missed his flight Furious, he was about to go and see why his
wife hadn't wakened him,
when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed.
The paper said, 'It is 5:00 AM. Wake up..'
Men are not equipped for these kinds of contests.
________________________________
God may have created man before woman, but there is always a rough
draft before the masterpiece
WOMAN'S PERFECT BREAKFAST
She's sitting at the table with her gourmet coffee.
Her son is on the cover of the Wheaties box.
Her daughter is on the cover of Business Week.
Her boyfriend is on the cover of Playgirl.
And her husband is on the back of the milk carton.
Keep reading-they get better!!!
WOMEN'S REVENGE
'Cash, check or charge?' I asked, after folding items the woman wished
to purchase.
As she fumbled for her wallet, I noticed a remote control for a
television set in her purse.
'So, do you always carry your TV remote?' I asked.
'No,' she replied, 'but my husband refused to come shopping with me,
and I figured this was the most evil thing I could do to him legally.'
________________________________
UNDERSTANDING WOMEN
(A MAN'S PERSPECTIVE)
I know I'm not going to understand women.
I'll never understand how you can take boiling hot wax,
pour it onto your upper thigh, rip the hair out by the root,
and still be afraid of a spider.
________________________________
WIFE VS. HUSBAND
A couple drove down a country road for several miles, not saying a word.
An earlier discussion had led to an argument and
neither of them wanted to concede their position..
As they passed a barnyard of mules, goats, and pigs,
the husband asked sarcastically, 'Relatives of yours?'
'Yep,' the wife replied, 'in-laws.'
________________________________
WORDS
A husband read an article to his wife about how many words women use a day.
30,000 to a man's 15,000.
The wife replied, 'The reason has to be because we have to repeat
everything to men....
The husband then turned to his wife and asked, 'What?'
________________________________
CREATION
A man said to his wife one day, 'I don't know how you can be
so stupid and so beautiful all at the same time.
'The wife responded, 'Allow me to explain.
God made me beautiful so you would be attracted to me;
God made me stupid so I would be attracted to you!
________________________________
WHO DOES WHAT
A man and his wife were having an argument about who
should brew the coffee each morning.
The wife said, 'You should do it because you get up first,
and then we don't have to wait as long to get our coffee.
The husband said, 'You are in charge of cooking around here and
you should do it, because that is your job, and I can just wait for my coffee.'
Wife replies, 'No, you should do it, and besides, it is in the Bible
that the man should do the coffee.'
Husband replies, 'I can't believe that, show me.'
So she fetched the Bible, and opened the New Testament and showed him
at the top of several pages, that it indeed says . 'HEBREWS'
________________________________
The Silent Treatment
A man and his wife were having some problems at home
and were giving each other the silent treatment.
Suddenly, the man realized that the next day, he would need his wife to wake him
at 5:00 AM for an early morning business flight.
Not wanting to be the first to break the silence (and LOSE), he wrote
on a piece of paper,
'Please wake me at 5:00 AM.' He left it where he knew she would find it.
The next morning, the man woke up, only to discover it was 9:00 AM and
he had missed his flight Furious, he was about to go and see why his
wife hadn't wakened him,
when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed.
The paper said, 'It is 5:00 AM. Wake up..'
Men are not equipped for these kinds of contests.
________________________________
God may have created man before woman, but there is always a rough
draft before the masterpiece
A bear walks into a bar in Billings , Montana and sits down. He bangs on the bar with his paw and demands a beer.
The bartender approaches and says,
'We don't serve beer to bears in bars in Billings '
The bear, becoming angry, demands again that he be served a beer.
The bartender tells him again, more forcefully,
'We don't serve beer to belligerent bears in bars in Billings ..'
The bear, very angry now, says,
'If you don't serve me a beer, I'm going to eat that lady sitting at the end of the bar.'
The bartender says,
'Sorry, we don't serve beer to Belligerent, bully bears in bars in Billings'
The bear goes to the end of the bar, and, as promised, eats the woman. He comes back to his seat and again demands a beer.
The bartender states,
'Sorry, but we especially don't serve beer to belligerent, bully bears in bars in Billings who are on drugs.'
The bear looks at him quizzically and says,
'I'm not on drugs.'
(You're gonna love me for this...)
The bartender says,
'You are now.
That was a barbitchyouate
The bartender approaches and says,
'We don't serve beer to bears in bars in Billings '
The bear, becoming angry, demands again that he be served a beer.
The bartender tells him again, more forcefully,
'We don't serve beer to belligerent bears in bars in Billings ..'
The bear, very angry now, says,
'If you don't serve me a beer, I'm going to eat that lady sitting at the end of the bar.'
The bartender says,
'Sorry, we don't serve beer to Belligerent, bully bears in bars in Billings'
The bear goes to the end of the bar, and, as promised, eats the woman. He comes back to his seat and again demands a beer.
The bartender states,
'Sorry, but we especially don't serve beer to belligerent, bully bears in bars in Billings who are on drugs.'
The bear looks at him quizzically and says,
'I'm not on drugs.'
(You're gonna love me for this...)
The bartender says,
'You are now.
That was a barbitchyouate
A duded-up city rider walks into a seedy tavern in Sturgis, South Dakota.
He sits at the bar and notices a grizzled old biker with his arms folded, staring blankly at a full bowl of chilli.
After fifteen minutes of just sitting there staring at it, the newbie rider bravely asks the old biker,
'If you ain't gonna eat that, mind if I do?'
The old veteran of a thousand rides slowly turns his head toward the young pup and says, 'Nah, you go ahead.'
Eagerly, the guy wearing the shiny new leather fashions reaches over and slides the bowl into his place and starts
spooning it in with delight.
He gets nearly down to the bottom of the bowl and notices a dead mouse in the chilli.
The sight was very shocking and he immediately barfed up the chilli back into the bowl.
The old biker quietly says, 'Yep, that's as far as I got, too.'
He sits at the bar and notices a grizzled old biker with his arms folded, staring blankly at a full bowl of chilli.
After fifteen minutes of just sitting there staring at it, the newbie rider bravely asks the old biker,
'If you ain't gonna eat that, mind if I do?'
The old veteran of a thousand rides slowly turns his head toward the young pup and says, 'Nah, you go ahead.'
Eagerly, the guy wearing the shiny new leather fashions reaches over and slides the bowl into his place and starts
spooning it in with delight.
He gets nearly down to the bottom of the bowl and notices a dead mouse in the chilli.
The sight was very shocking and he immediately barfed up the chilli back into the bowl.
The old biker quietly says, 'Yep, that's as far as I got, too.'
THREE WOMEN, TWO YOUNGER, AND ONE SENIOR CITIZEN, WERE SITTING NAKED IN A SAUNA. SUDDENLY THERE WAS A BEEPING SOUND. THE YOUNG WOMAN PRESSED HER FOREARM AND
THE BEEP STOPPED. THE OTHERS LOOKED AT HER QUESTIONINGLY. 'THAT WAS MY PAGER,' SHE SAID. I HAVE A MICROCHIP UNDER THE SKIN OF MY ARM.
A FEW MINUTES LATER, A PHONE RANG. THE SECOND YOUNG WOMAN LIFTED HER PALM TO HER EAR. WHEN SHE FINISHED, SHE EXPLAINED, 'THAT WAS MY MOBILE PHONE. I HAVE A MICROCHIP IN MY HAND.'
THE OLDER WOMAN FELT VERY LOW -TECH. NOT TO BE OUT DONE, SHE DECIDED SHE HAD TO DO SOMETHING JUST AS IMPRESSIVE. SHE STEPPED OUT OF THE SAUNA AND WENT TO
THE BATH ROOM.. SHE RETURNED WITH A PIECE OF TOILET PAPER HANGING FROM HER REAR END.
THE OTHERS RAISED THEIR EYEBROWS AND STARED AT HER.
THE OLDER WOMAN FINALLY SAID..........WELL, WILL YOU LOOK AT THAT...I'M GETTING A FAX!!
THE BEEP STOPPED. THE OTHERS LOOKED AT HER QUESTIONINGLY. 'THAT WAS MY PAGER,' SHE SAID. I HAVE A MICROCHIP UNDER THE SKIN OF MY ARM.
A FEW MINUTES LATER, A PHONE RANG. THE SECOND YOUNG WOMAN LIFTED HER PALM TO HER EAR. WHEN SHE FINISHED, SHE EXPLAINED, 'THAT WAS MY MOBILE PHONE. I HAVE A MICROCHIP IN MY HAND.'
THE OLDER WOMAN FELT VERY LOW -TECH. NOT TO BE OUT DONE, SHE DECIDED SHE HAD TO DO SOMETHING JUST AS IMPRESSIVE. SHE STEPPED OUT OF THE SAUNA AND WENT TO
THE BATH ROOM.. SHE RETURNED WITH A PIECE OF TOILET PAPER HANGING FROM HER REAR END.
THE OTHERS RAISED THEIR EYEBROWS AND STARED AT HER.
THE OLDER WOMAN FINALLY SAID..........WELL, WILL YOU LOOK AT THAT...I'M GETTING A FAX!!
Miss Beatrice, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was admired for her sweetness and kindness to all. One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room. She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea.
As he sat facing her old Hammond organ, the young minister noticed a cute glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water, and in the water floated, of all things, a condom!
When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist.
'Miss Beatrice', he said, 'I wonder if you would tell me about this?' Pointing to the bowl. 'Oh, yes,' she replied, 'Isn't it wonderful? I was walking through the Park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease.
Do you know I haven't had the flu all winter.
As he sat facing her old Hammond organ, the young minister noticed a cute glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water, and in the water floated, of all things, a condom!
When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist.
'Miss Beatrice', he said, 'I wonder if you would tell me about this?' Pointing to the bowl. 'Oh, yes,' she replied, 'Isn't it wonderful? I was walking through the Park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease.
Do you know I haven't had the flu all winter.
A man is dating 3 women seriously and can't decide which one to marry, so he decides to give each of the women $10,000 to see what they do.
Woman #1 goes out buys clothes, make-up and a gym membership. When asked why she chose to purchase that she tells the man "Because I love you so much, I want to always look good for you so you will never stray.
Woman #2 buys the man a new set of golf clubs and Super Bowl tickets. When asked why she chose to spend the money that way she replies "Because I love you so much, I wanted to get you what your really wanted"
Woman #3 invests the money, doubles her investment and then gives the man the $20,000. The man asks why she gave him not only his money back, but the return as well. She says "Because I love you so much, I want you to know what a good provider I can be and that you need never worry about money"
So, which one does the man marry?
The one with the biggest boobs, of course. (men are like that)
Woman #1 goes out buys clothes, make-up and a gym membership. When asked why she chose to purchase that she tells the man "Because I love you so much, I want to always look good for you so you will never stray.
Woman #2 buys the man a new set of golf clubs and Super Bowl tickets. When asked why she chose to spend the money that way she replies "Because I love you so much, I wanted to get you what your really wanted"
Woman #3 invests the money, doubles her investment and then gives the man the $20,000. The man asks why she gave him not only his money back, but the return as well. She says "Because I love you so much, I want you to know what a good provider I can be and that you need never worry about money"
So, which one does the man marry?
The one with the biggest boobs, of course. (men are like that)
Sep 16, 2009 at 8:29am Edited
The Jean-Paul Sartre Cookbook
We have recently been lucky enough to discover several previously lost diaries of French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre stuck in between the cushions of our office sofa. These diaries reveal a young Sartre obsessed not with the void, but with food. Apparently Sartre, before discovering philosophy, had hoped to write "a cookbook that will put to rest all notions of flavor forever.'' The diaries are excerpted here for your perusal.
October 3
Spoke with Camus today about my cookbook. Though he has never actually eaten, he gave me much encouragement. I rushed home immediately to begin work. How excited I am! I have begun my formula for a Denver omelet.
October 4
Still working on the omelet. There have been stumbling blocks. I keep creating omelets one after another, like soldiers marching into the sea, but each one seems empty, hollow, like stone. I want to create an omelet that expresses the meaninglessness of existence, and instead they taste like cheese. I look at them on the plate, but they do not look back. Tried eating them with the lights off. It did not help. Malraux suggested paprika.
October 6
I have realized that the traditional omelet form (eggs and cheese) is bourgeois. Today I tried making one out of a cigarette, some coffee, and four tiny stones. I fed it to Malraux, who puked. I am encouraged, but my journey is still long.
October 7
Today I again modified my omelet recipe. While my previous attempts had expressed my own bitterness, they communicated only illness to the eater. In an attempt to reach the bourgeoisie, I taped two fried eggs over my eyes and walked the streets of Paris for an hour. I ran into Camus at the Select. He called me a "pathetic dork" and told me to "go home and wash my face." Angered, I poured a bowl of bouillabaisse into his lap. He became enraged, and, seizing a straw wrapped in paper, tore off one end of the wrapper and blew through the straw, propelling the wrapper into my eye. "Ow! You dick!" I cried. I leaped up, cursing and holding my eye, and fled.
October 10
I find myself trying ever more radical interpretations of traditional dishes, in an effort to somehow express the void I feel so acutely. Today I tried this recipe:
Tuna Casserole
Ingredients: 1 large casserole dish
Place the casserole dish in a cold oven. Place a chair facing the oven and sit in it forever. Think about how hungry you are. When night falls, do not turn on the light.
While a void is expressed in this recipe, I am struck by its inapplicability to the bourgeois lifestyle. How can the eater recognize that the food denied him is a tuna casserole and not some other dish? I am becoming more and more frustrated.
October 12
My eye has become inflamed. I hate Camus.
October 25
I have been forced to abandon the project of producing an entire cookbook. Rather, I now seek a single recipe which will, by itself, embody the plight of man in a world ruled by an unfeeling God, as well as providing the eater with at least one ingredient from each of the four basic food groups. To this end, I purchased six hundred pounds of foodstuffs from the corner grocery and locked myself in the kitchen, refusing to admit anyone. After several weeks of work, I produced a recipe calling for two eggs, half a cup of flour, four tons of beef, and a leek. While this is a start, I am afraid I still have much work ahead.
November 15
I feel that I may be very close to a great breakthrough. I had been creating meal after meal, but none seemed to express the futility of existence any better than would ordering a pizza. I left the house this morning in a most depressed state, and wandered aimlessly through the streets. Suddenly, it was as if the heavens had opened. My brain was electrified with an influx of new ideas. "Juice, toast, milk.." I muttered aloud. I realized with a start that I was one ingredient away from creating the nutritious breakfast. Loathsome, true, but filled with existential authenticity. I rushed home to begin work anew.
November 18
Today I tried yet another variation: Juice, toast, milk and Chee-tos. Again, a dismal failure. I have tried everything. Juice, toast, milk and whiskey, juice, toast, milk and chicken fat, juice, toast, milk and someone else's spit. Nothing helps. I am in agony. Juice, toast, milk, they race about my fevered brain like fire, like an unholy trinity of cruel denial. And the fourth ingredient! What could it be? It eludes me like the lost chord, the Holy Grail. I must see the completion of my task, but I have no more money to spend on food. Perhaps man is not meant to know.
November 21
Camus came into the restaurant today. He did not know I was in the kitchen, and before I sent out his meal I loogied in his soup. Sic semper tyrannis.
November 23
Ran into some opposition at the restaurant. Some of the patrons complained that my breakfast special (a page out of Remembrance of Things Past and a blowtorch with which to set it on fire) did not satisfy their hunger. As if their hunger was of any consequence! "But we're starving," they say. So what? They're going to die eventually anyway. They make me want to puke. I have quit the job. It is stupid for Jean-Paul Sartre to sling hash. I have enough money to continue my work for a little while.
November 24
Last night I had a dream. In it, I am standing, alone, on a beach. A great storm is raging all about me. It begins to rain. Night falls. I am struck by how small and insignificant I am, how the entire race of Man is but a speck in the eye of God, and I am but a speck of humanity. Suddenly, a red Cadillac convertible pulls up beside me, in it are these two beautiful girls named Jojo and Wendy. I get in and they take me to their mansion in Hollywood and give me a pound of cocaine and make mad, passionate love to me for the rest of my life.
November 26
Today I made a Black Forest cake out of five pounds of cherries and a live beaver, challenging the very definition of the word "cake." I was very pleased. Malraux said he admired it greatly, but could not stay for dessert. Still, I feel that this may be my most profound achievement yet, and have resolved to enter it in the Betty Crocker Bake-Off.
November 30
Today was the day of the Bake-Off. Alas, things did not go as I had hoped. During the judging, the beaver became agitated and bit Betty Crocker on the wrist. The beaver's powerful jaws are capable of felling blue spruce in less than ten minutes and proved, needless to say, more than a match for the tender limbs of America's favorite homemaker. I only got third place. Moreover, I am now the subject of a rather nasty lawsuit.
December 1
I have been gaining twenty-five pounds a week for two months, and I am now experiencing light tides. It is stupid to be so fat. My pain and ultimate solitude are still as authentic as they were when I was thin, but seem to impress girls far less. From now on, I will live on cigarettes and black coffee.
_____
Sartre died in Paris on April 15, 1980. His last word is reputed to have been, simply, "Trix."
We have recently been lucky enough to discover several previously lost diaries of French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre stuck in between the cushions of our office sofa. These diaries reveal a young Sartre obsessed not with the void, but with food. Apparently Sartre, before discovering philosophy, had hoped to write "a cookbook that will put to rest all notions of flavor forever.'' The diaries are excerpted here for your perusal.
October 3
Spoke with Camus today about my cookbook. Though he has never actually eaten, he gave me much encouragement. I rushed home immediately to begin work. How excited I am! I have begun my formula for a Denver omelet.
October 4
Still working on the omelet. There have been stumbling blocks. I keep creating omelets one after another, like soldiers marching into the sea, but each one seems empty, hollow, like stone. I want to create an omelet that expresses the meaninglessness of existence, and instead they taste like cheese. I look at them on the plate, but they do not look back. Tried eating them with the lights off. It did not help. Malraux suggested paprika.
October 6
I have realized that the traditional omelet form (eggs and cheese) is bourgeois. Today I tried making one out of a cigarette, some coffee, and four tiny stones. I fed it to Malraux, who puked. I am encouraged, but my journey is still long.
October 7
Today I again modified my omelet recipe. While my previous attempts had expressed my own bitterness, they communicated only illness to the eater. In an attempt to reach the bourgeoisie, I taped two fried eggs over my eyes and walked the streets of Paris for an hour. I ran into Camus at the Select. He called me a "pathetic dork" and told me to "go home and wash my face." Angered, I poured a bowl of bouillabaisse into his lap. He became enraged, and, seizing a straw wrapped in paper, tore off one end of the wrapper and blew through the straw, propelling the wrapper into my eye. "Ow! You dick!" I cried. I leaped up, cursing and holding my eye, and fled.
October 10
I find myself trying ever more radical interpretations of traditional dishes, in an effort to somehow express the void I feel so acutely. Today I tried this recipe:
Tuna Casserole
Ingredients: 1 large casserole dish
Place the casserole dish in a cold oven. Place a chair facing the oven and sit in it forever. Think about how hungry you are. When night falls, do not turn on the light.
While a void is expressed in this recipe, I am struck by its inapplicability to the bourgeois lifestyle. How can the eater recognize that the food denied him is a tuna casserole and not some other dish? I am becoming more and more frustrated.
October 12
My eye has become inflamed. I hate Camus.
October 25
I have been forced to abandon the project of producing an entire cookbook. Rather, I now seek a single recipe which will, by itself, embody the plight of man in a world ruled by an unfeeling God, as well as providing the eater with at least one ingredient from each of the four basic food groups. To this end, I purchased six hundred pounds of foodstuffs from the corner grocery and locked myself in the kitchen, refusing to admit anyone. After several weeks of work, I produced a recipe calling for two eggs, half a cup of flour, four tons of beef, and a leek. While this is a start, I am afraid I still have much work ahead.
November 15
I feel that I may be very close to a great breakthrough. I had been creating meal after meal, but none seemed to express the futility of existence any better than would ordering a pizza. I left the house this morning in a most depressed state, and wandered aimlessly through the streets. Suddenly, it was as if the heavens had opened. My brain was electrified with an influx of new ideas. "Juice, toast, milk.." I muttered aloud. I realized with a start that I was one ingredient away from creating the nutritious breakfast. Loathsome, true, but filled with existential authenticity. I rushed home to begin work anew.
November 18
Today I tried yet another variation: Juice, toast, milk and Chee-tos. Again, a dismal failure. I have tried everything. Juice, toast, milk and whiskey, juice, toast, milk and chicken fat, juice, toast, milk and someone else's spit. Nothing helps. I am in agony. Juice, toast, milk, they race about my fevered brain like fire, like an unholy trinity of cruel denial. And the fourth ingredient! What could it be? It eludes me like the lost chord, the Holy Grail. I must see the completion of my task, but I have no more money to spend on food. Perhaps man is not meant to know.
November 21
Camus came into the restaurant today. He did not know I was in the kitchen, and before I sent out his meal I loogied in his soup. Sic semper tyrannis.
November 23
Ran into some opposition at the restaurant. Some of the patrons complained that my breakfast special (a page out of Remembrance of Things Past and a blowtorch with which to set it on fire) did not satisfy their hunger. As if their hunger was of any consequence! "But we're starving," they say. So what? They're going to die eventually anyway. They make me want to puke. I have quit the job. It is stupid for Jean-Paul Sartre to sling hash. I have enough money to continue my work for a little while.
November 24
Last night I had a dream. In it, I am standing, alone, on a beach. A great storm is raging all about me. It begins to rain. Night falls. I am struck by how small and insignificant I am, how the entire race of Man is but a speck in the eye of God, and I am but a speck of humanity. Suddenly, a red Cadillac convertible pulls up beside me, in it are these two beautiful girls named Jojo and Wendy. I get in and they take me to their mansion in Hollywood and give me a pound of cocaine and make mad, passionate love to me for the rest of my life.
November 26
Today I made a Black Forest cake out of five pounds of cherries and a live beaver, challenging the very definition of the word "cake." I was very pleased. Malraux said he admired it greatly, but could not stay for dessert. Still, I feel that this may be my most profound achievement yet, and have resolved to enter it in the Betty Crocker Bake-Off.
November 30
Today was the day of the Bake-Off. Alas, things did not go as I had hoped. During the judging, the beaver became agitated and bit Betty Crocker on the wrist. The beaver's powerful jaws are capable of felling blue spruce in less than ten minutes and proved, needless to say, more than a match for the tender limbs of America's favorite homemaker. I only got third place. Moreover, I am now the subject of a rather nasty lawsuit.
December 1
I have been gaining twenty-five pounds a week for two months, and I am now experiencing light tides. It is stupid to be so fat. My pain and ultimate solitude are still as authentic as they were when I was thin, but seem to impress girls far less. From now on, I will live on cigarettes and black coffee.
_____
Sartre died in Paris on April 15, 1980. His last word is reputed to have been, simply, "Trix."
This is from newshound Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:
======================
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, quote, '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 is, 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.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.
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?
======================
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, quote, '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 is, 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.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.
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?
Working people frequently ask retired people what they do to make their days
interesting. Well, for example, the other day my wife and I went into town and went into a shop.
We were only in there for about 5 minutes. When we came out, there was a
cop writing out a parking ticket.
We went up to him and said, 'Come on man, how about giving a senior citizen
a break?' He ignored us and continued writing the ticket. I called him a
Nazi turd. He glared at me and started writing another ticket for having
worn tires. So my wife called him a *****-head. He finished the second ticket
and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he started writing a third
ticket. This went on for about 20 minutes. The more we abused him, the more
tickets he wrote. Personally, we didn't care. We came into town by bus. We try to have a little fun each day now that we're retired. It's important at our age.
interesting. Well, for example, the other day my wife and I went into town and went into a shop.
We were only in there for about 5 minutes. When we came out, there was a
cop writing out a parking ticket.
We went up to him and said, 'Come on man, how about giving a senior citizen
a break?' He ignored us and continued writing the ticket. I called him a
Nazi turd. He glared at me and started writing another ticket for having
worn tires. So my wife called him a *****-head. He finished the second ticket
and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he started writing a third
ticket. This went on for about 20 minutes. The more we abused him, the more
tickets he wrote. Personally, we didn't care. We came into town by bus. We try to have a little fun each day now that we're retired. It's important at our age.
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Things they don't teach you in Hebrew School
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17. If you have to ask the price, you can't afford it. But if you can
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at 4:00 PM in Florida.
19. Any time a person goes into a delicatessen and orders a pastrami
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