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Wednesday, June 07, 2006

It's Wednesday Again


Weird Fact :
It takes about 63,000 trees to make the newsprint for the average Sunday edition of The New York Times.
(And they push their enviroment agenda on Us? )
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Weird Fact :
In France, it is illegal for a person to kiss another on railways
.
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There was once a small boy who banged a drum all day and loved every moment of it. He would not be quiet, no matter what anyone else said or did. Various attempts were made to do something about the child.

One person told the boy that he would, if he continued to make so much noise, perforate his eardrums. This reasoning was too advanced for the child, who was neither a scientist nor a scholar.

A second person told him that drum beating was a sacred activity and should be carried out only on special occasions.

The third person offered the neighbors plugs for their ears.

A fourth gave the boy a book.

A fifth gave the neighbors books that described a method of controlling anger through biofeedback.

A sixth person gave the boy meditation exercises to make him placid and docile.

None of these attempts worked.

Eventually, a wise person came along with an effective motivation. He looked at the situation, handed the child a hammer and chisel, and asked, "I wonder what is INSIDE the drum?"

No more problem.
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Several of us were talking computers when the conversation turned to our children and the impact computers have had on them. One of the Dads in the group said he didn't realize how much his son was into computers until he asked him to empty the kitchen trash. The son replied, "Sure Dad, I'll be glad to delete it for you."
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Fresh from a visit to the dentist, I decided to stop at my bank. Barely able to enunciate, I told the teller, "I'm sorry about not speaking more clearly. I've had Novocain." "You should have used the drive-through," she said. "Why?" "Everyone who goes through sounds like you," she explained.
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John was furious when his steak arrived too rare. "Waiter," he shouted, "Didn't you hear me say, 'well done'?" "I can't thank you enough, sir," replied the waiter. "I hardly ever get a compliment."
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Every time a new Pope is elected, there's a whole lot of rituals and ceremonies that have to be gone through, in accordance with tradition. Well there's one tradition that very few people know about. Shortly after the new Pope is enthroned, the Chief Rabbi seeks an audience. He is shown into the Pope's presence, whereupon he presents him with a silver tray bearing a velvet cushion. On top of the cushion is an ancient, shriveled parchment envelope. The Pope symbolically stretches out his arm in a gesture of rejection. The Chief Rabbi then retires, taking the envelope with him and does not return until the next Pope is elected. John Paul II was intrigued by this ritual, whose origins were unknown to him. He instructed the best scholars of the Vatican to research it, but they came up with nothing. When the time came and the Chief Rabbi was shown into his presence, he faithfully enacted the ritual rejection but, as the Chief Rabbi turned to leave, he called him back. "My brother," the Holy Father whispered, "I must confess that we Catholics are ignorant of the meaning of this ritual enacted for centuries between us and you, the representative of the Jewish people. I have to ask you, what is it all about?" The Chief Rabbi shrugs and replies: "But we have no more idea than you do. The origin of the ceremony is lost in the traditions of ancient history." The Pope said: "Let us retire to my private chambers and enjoy a glass of wine together, then, with your agreement, we shall open the envelope and discover at last the secret." The Chief Rabbi agreed. Fortified in their resolve by the wine, they gingerly pried open the curling parchment envelope and with trembling fingers, the Chief Rabbi reached inside and extracted a folded sheet of similarly ancient paper. As the Pope peered over his shoulder, he slowly opened it. They both gasped with shock. It was the check for the Last Supper.



My name is Chief Charles Quinn of the Canadian Volunteer Emergency Response/ Western Canada Regional Command, in Surrey, British Columbia. While driving my customary route home from my duty hours in my personal car, which has a Ham radio capable of receiving our work radio frequency, I stopped at the corner store to pick up some milk and cigarettes. While I was walking to my car after just leaving the store, a blue Chevrolet Cavalier swerved from the street, jump the curb, crossed 85 feet of parking lot and T-Boned the passenger side of my 1990 Eagle Premiere. I walked over to the driver of the car in order to see if he was all right , and to get the insurance information from him, thinking of just how I was going to let him have it for wrecking my car, when the 6'4" man exited his vehicle, handed me a 1/4 full bottle of Canadian Club Rye Whiskey, and said, "Quick, get rid of this before the cops come, will ya?" I took the bottle from him, as asked, and watched the look of relief on his face slowly transform into realization, and acceptance, as he finally bothered to look closely at who he was talking to.... I was in full uniform!
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Wanda's dishwasher quit working so she called a repairman. Since she had to go to work the next day, she told the repairman, "I'll leave the key under the mat. Fix the dishwasher, leave the bill on the counter, and I'll mail you a check. Oh, by the way don't worry about my bulldog. He won't bother you. But, whatever you do, do NOT, under ANY circumstances, talk to my parrot!" "I REPEAT, DO NOT TALK TO MY PARROT!!!" When the repairman arrived at Wanda's apartment the following day, he discovered the biggest, meanest looking bulldog he has ever seen. But, just as she had said, the dog just lay there on the carpet watching the repairman go about his work. The parrot, however, drove him nuts the whole time with his incessant yelling, cursing and name calling. Finally the repairman couldn't contain himself any longer and yelled, "Shut up, you stupid ugly bird!" To which the parrot replied, "Get him, Spike!"
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While waiting for my first appointment in the reception room of a new dentist, I noticed his certificate, which bore his full name. Suddenly, I remembered that a tall, handsome boy with the same name had been in my high school class some 41 years ago. Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was way too old to have been my classmate. After he had examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended the local high school. "Yes," he replied. "When did you graduate?" I asked. He answered, "In 1962 . Why?" "You were in my class!" I exclaimed. He looked at me closely and then asked, "What did you teach?"
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As a member of the Marine Corps, I was stationed at Twenty-Nine Palms Base in California. Among those serving there was a private who was determined not to re-enlist. At inspection one morning, the officer asked him, "Are you married, son?" "No, sir," he replied. "Engaged." "There's no need to get married," the officer said, sensing an opportunity to change the private's plans for discharge. "The Marine Corps is your wife. It clothes you, feeds you, puts a roof over your head, keeps you in top physical condition and provides you with companionship. What else could you possibly want?" "With all due respect, sir," answered the private, "a divorce!"
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One Sunday morning when my son, David, was about 5, we were attending a church in our community. It was common for the preacher to invite the children to the front of the church and have a small lesson before beginning the sermon. He would bring in an item they could find around the house and relate it to a teaching from the Bible. This particular morning, the visual aid for his lesson was a smoke detector. He asked the children if anyone knew what it meant when an alarm sounded from the smoke detector. My child immediately raised his hand and said, "It means Daddy's cooking dinner." ~~#~~#~~#~~#~~~#~~~#
For the umpteenth time Mrs. Youngston came to her parish priest to tell him, "Father, I'm so scared! Joe says he's going to kill me if I continue to come to your church." "Yes, yes, my child," replied Father Francis McCrady, more than a little tired of hearing this over and over. "I will continue to pray for you, Mrs. Youngston. Have faith - the Lord will watch over you." "Oh yes, Father, he has kept me safe thus far, only....." "Only what, my child?" "Well, Father, now he says if I keep coming to your church, he's going to kill YOU!" "Well, now," said the priest, "Perhaps it's time to check out Father Lawrence Greider's parish over on the other side of town."
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After another frustrating day out on the course, Bob was once again sitting at the dinner table moaning about his lack of playing ability. "If only I had Tiger Woods' length," he cried. "I know," his wife replied, who was by now becoming so sick at having to listen to his carrying on day after day that she couldn't sit quietly and take it anymore. "If you only had Tiger Woods' length, if you only had Tiger Woods' length. Let me tell you something, Buster, the only thing that having Tiger Woods' length would mean to your game is that you'd be able to hit the ball that much farther into the woods!"
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A brunette, a redhead, and a blonde were on their way to Heaven. God told them that the stairway to Heaven was 1000 steps, and that on every 5th step He would tell them a joke. He told them not to laugh at any of the jokes along the way or else they would not be able to enter Heaven. The brunette went first and started laughing on the 45th step, so she could not enter Heaven. The redhead went next and started laughing on the 200th step, so she could not enter Heaven either. Then, it was the blonde's turn. When she got to the 999th step, she started laughing. "Why are you laughing?" God asked. "I didn't tell a joke." "I know," the blonde replied. "I just got the first joke."
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In a Chicago hospital, a gentleman had made several attempts to get into the men's restroom, but it had always been occupied.

A nurse noticed his predicament.

Sir, she said "You may use the ladies room if you promise not to touch any of the buttons on the wall."

He did what he needed to, and as he sat there he noticed the buttons he had promised not to touch.

Each button was identified by letters: WW, WA, PP, and a red one labeled ATR.

Who would know if he touched them?

He couldn't resist.. He pushed WW. Warm water was sprayed gently upon his bottom.

What a nice felling, he thought. Men restrooms don't have nice things like this.

Anticipating greater pleasure, he pushed the WA button. Warm air replaced the warm water, gently drying his underside.

When this stopped, he pushed the PP button. A large powder puff caressed his bottom adding a fragile scent of spring flower to this unbelievable pleasure. The ladies restroom was more than a restroom, it is tender loving pleasure.

When the powder puff completed its pleasure, he couldn't wait to push the ATR button which he knew would be supreme ecstasy.

Next thing he knew he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed, and a nurse was staring down at him.

"What happened?" he exclaimed. The last thing I remember was pushing the ATR button.

"The button ATR is an Automatic Tampon Remover. Your penis is under your pillow."

MEN, THEY NEVER LISTEN
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A big corporation recently hired several cannibals. "You are all part of our team now", said the HR rep during the welcoming briefing. you get all the usual benefits and you can go to the cafeteria for something to eat, but please don't eat any of the other employees". The cannibals promised they would not. Four weeks later their boss remarked, "You're all working very hard, and I'm satisfied with you. However, one of our secretaries has disappeared. Do any of you know what happened to her?" The cannibals all shook their heads no. After the boss had left, the leader of the cannibals said to the others, "Which one of you idiots ate the secretary?" A hand rose hesitantly, to which the leader of the cannibals continued, "You fool For four weeks we've been eating Managers and no one noticed anything, but noooooo, you had to go and eat someone who actually does something!!! "
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Q) If an elephant's front legs were doing 60 miles per hour... what would the back legs be doing? A) Hauling ass!
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butcher in his shop, and he's real busy, and he notices a dog in the shop. He shoos him away. But later, he notices the dog is back again. So he goes over to the dog, and notices he has a note in his mouth. He takes the note, and it reads "Can I have 12 sausages and a leg of lamb, please. The dog has money in his mouth, as well." The butcher looks inside and, lo and behold, there is a ten pound note there. So he takes the money, and puts the sausages and lamb in a bag, placing it in the dog's mouth. The butcher is well impressed, and since it's close to closing time, he decides to shut up shop and follow the dog. So off he goes. The dog is walking down the street, when he comes to a level crossing. The dog puts down the bag, jumps up and presses the button. Then he waits patiently, bag in mouth, for the lights to turn. They do, and he walks across the road, with the butcher following him all the way. The dog then comes to a bus stop, and starts looking at the timetable. The butcher is in awe at this stage. The dog checks out the times, and then sits on one of the seats provided. Along comes a bus. The dog walks around the front, looks at the number, and goes back to his seat. Another bus comes. Again the dog goes and looks at the number, notices it's the right bus, and climbs on. The butcher, by now open-mouthed, follows him onto the bus. The bus travels through the town and out into the suburbs, the dog looking at the scenery. Eventually he gets up, and moves to the front of the bus. He stands on 2 back paws and pushes the button to stop the bus. Then he gets off, his groceries still in his mouth. Well, dog and butcher are walking along the road, and then the dog turns into a house. He walks up the path, and drops the groceries on the step. Then he walks back down the path, takes a big run, and throws himself -Whap!- against the door. He goes back down the path, runs up to the door and -Whap!- throws himself against it again. There's no answer at the house, so the dog goes back down the path, jumps up on a narrow wall, and walks along the perimeter of the garden. He gets to the window, and beats his head against it several times, walks back, jumps off, and waits at the door. The butcher watches as a big guy opens the door, and starts laying into the dog. Kicking him and punching him, and swearing at him. The butcher runs up, and stops the guy. "What the hell are you doing? The dog is a genius. He could be on TV, for heaven's sake!", to which the guy responds. "Genius me butt - this is the second time this week that he's forgotten his key!"

4 Comments:

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At June 11, 2006 4:52 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

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At June 11, 2006 4:55 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

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At June 11, 2006 5:41 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

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