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Dated humor I found on my computer...


Subject: War Planning


Date: Sat, 2 Feb 2002

President Bush and Colin Powell are sitting in a bar. A guy walks in and asks the barman, "Isn't that Bush and Powell sitting over there?"

The barman says, "Yep, that's them."

So the guy walks over and says, "Wow, this is a real honor. What are you guys doing in here?"

Bush says, "We're planning WW III ".

And the guy says, "Really? What's going to happen?"

Bush says, "Well, we're going to kill 140 million Iraqis this time and one bicycle repairman."

The guy exclaimed, "A bicycle repairman? Why kill a bicycle repairman?

Bush turns to Powell, punches him on the shoulder and says, "See, smart guy?! I told you no one would worry about the 140 million Iraqis!"

Yes, but most of them are so cruel that, even without actually violating the 10-year-old-daughter rule, they would get me kicked off the Form.

"Mommy, Mommy, I'm tired of walking around in circles!"

"Shut up or I'll nail your other foot to the floor!"

The Cleveland Symphony was performing Beethoven's Ninth. In the piece, there's a long passage -- about 20 minutes -- during which the bass violinists have nothing to do. Rather than sit around the whole time looking stupid, some bass players decided to sneak offstage and go to the tavern next door for a quick one. After slamming several beers in quick succession (as bass violinists are prone to do), one of them looked at her watch. "Hey! We need to get back!" she said.

No need to panic," said another bass player. "I thought we might need some extra time, so I tied the last few pages of the conductor's score together with a string. It'll take her a few minutes to get it untangled."

A few moments later, they staggered back to the concert hall and took their places in the orchestra. About this time, a member of the audience noticed the conductor seemed a bit edgy and said as much to her companion.

Well, of course," said her companion. "Don't you see? It's the bottom of the Ninth, the score is tied, and the basses are loaded."

Two men waiting at the Pearly Gates strike up a conversation.
"How'd you die?" the first man asks the second.
"I froze to death," says the second.
"That's awful," says the first man. " How does it feel to freeze to death?"
"It's very uncomfortable at first, "says the second man. "You get the shakes,and you get pains in all your fingers and toes. But eventually, it's a very calm way to go. You get numb and you kind of drift off, as if your sleeping. How about you, how did you die?"
"I had a heart attack," says the first man. "You see, I knew my wife was cheating on me, so one day I showed up at home unexpectedly. I ran up to the bedroom, and found her alone, knitting. I ran down to the basement, but no one
was hiding there, either. I ran up to the second floor, but no one was hiding there either. I ran as fast as I could to the attic, and just as I got there,I had a massive heart attack and died."
The second man shakes his head. "That's so ironic," he says.
"What do you mean?" asks the first man.
"If you had only stopped to look in the freezer, we'd both still be alive."

One day a snail crawled into a Pontiac dealership and started looking at the Formula 400 Firebird on display there. He crawled slowly all around it, even under it, and finally over to a salesman's desk.

"I want to buy that car" he said, producing a wad of bills, "but I want you to do one thing extra to it."

The salesman was quite suprized that a snail would want such a fast, flashy car - and have the money to buy it - but on second thought maybe it was understandable...

"Well, of course. And what is the extra? Whatever it is, I'm sure we can accommodate you" he answered.

The snail told the salesman that he he wanted a large capital "S" painted on each door, as well as on the roof of the car. The salesman agreed, the car was taken into the paintshop, the paperwork was done, and the money paid. As the snail was about to get into the car and drive off, the salesman was overcome with curiosity.

"Excuse me," he said, "but what is the significance of the letter "S"? Is it for Snail?"

To which the snail answered, "No, not at all. All my life I've been a lowly snail, crawling along on the ground - a symbol of plodding, plebian, slow, ordinary life. But now, when I go zooming through traffic, passing everyone, I want them to really notice me, admire me, and say, "Man, look at that S-car go!""

That's back in the original spirit of this thread... really funny and and I'm ashamed to admit it.

A teacher gave her fifth-grade class an assignment: have their parents tell them a story with a moral.

The next day the kids came to class, and one by one, told their stories.

Kathy raised her hand first and said, "We live on a farm and we have hens that lay eggs for market. Once we were taking a basket of eggs to market on the front seat of the pick-up and we hit a big bump in the road. The eggs went flying and broke all over everything."

"And what is the moral to that story?"

"Don't put all your eggs in one basket."

"Very good!" said the teacher.

Then little Lucy raised her hand and said, "We live on a farm, too. But we raise chickens for the meat market. We had a dozen eggs once but when they hatched, we only got ten live chicks. And the moral to that story is, don't count your chickens before they are hatched."

"That was a fine example, Lucy.

Johnny, I believe you had your hand up next."

"Yes Ma'am. My Daddy told me my Aunt Karen was a flight engineer in Desert Storm and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory, and all she had was a bottle of whiskey, a machine gun, and a machete. She drank the whiskey on the way down so it wouldn't break, and then she landed right in the middle of a hundred enemy soldiers. She killed seventy of them with the machine gun until she ran out of bullets, then she killed twenty more with the machete before the blade broke off. Then she killed the last ten with her bare hands."

"Good heavens!" said the horrified teacher. "What did your Daddy tell you was the moral to that terrible story?"

"Stay the heck away from Aunt Karen when she's been drinking."

An elderly couple had dinner at another couple's house, and after eating, the wives left the table and went into the kitchen. The two gentlemen were talking, and one said, "Last night we went out to a new restaurant and it was really great. I would recommend it very highly.

The other man said, "What is the name of the restaurant?"

The first man thought and thought and finally said, "What is the name of that flower you give to someone you love? You know... the one that's red and has thorns."

"Do you mean a rose?"

"Yes, that's the one," replied the man. He then turned towards the kitchen and yelled, "Rose, what's the name of that restaurant we went to last night?

Ouch!

The penguins were great though.

Two of my old pals and I are out walking.
First one says, "Windy, isn't it?"
Second one says, "No, it's Thursday!"
Third one says, "So am I. Let's go get a beer."

An elderly man lay dying in his bed. In death's agony, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort forced himself down the stairs, gripping the railing with both hands.

With labored breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven: There, spread out on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite chocolate chip cookies. Was it heaven? Or was it merely one final act of heroic love from his devoted wife, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?

Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself toward the table. His aged and withered hand made its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when his wife suddenly smacked it with a spatula.

"Stay out of those," she said. "They're for the funeral."

A panda bear walks into a restaurant and orders a sandwich. After the panda eats he starts to leave. As he turns to go, he pulls a pistol and fires a couple of shots into the ceiling.

The waiter says, "Hey! What the heck is that all about?" The panda replies, "I'm a panda, look it up in the dictionary," and walks out.

The waiter happens to have a dictionary handy and he looks up, "Panda: a large black-and-white mammal (Ailuropoda melanoleuca) of western China that suggests a bear, but is related to the raccoons. Eats shoots and leaves."