A little boy goes to his dad and asks, "What is Politics?"
Dad says, "Well son, let me try to expain it this way:
I am the head of the family, so call me The President.
Your mother is the administrator of the money, so we call her the Government.
We are here to take care of your needs, so we will call you the People.
The nanny, we will consider her the Working Class.
And your baby brother, we will call him the Future.
Now think about that and see if it makes sense.
So the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what Dad has said.
Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him.
He finds that the baby has severely soiled his diaper.
So the little boy goes to his parent's room and finds his mother asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny's room.
Finding the door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed.
The next morning, the little boy says to his father, "Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now."
The father says, "Good, son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about."
The little boy replies, "The President is screwing the Working Class while the Government is sound asleep. The People are being ignored and the Future is in deep shit."
President Bush's approval rating walks into a bar. The bartender says "Hold on, buddy! You're gonna have to leave. We don't serve your kind around here."
"Why not?"
"Because you're under 21."
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Cleanliness is next to godliness.
Godliness is next to impossible.
Therefore, cleanliness is next to impossible.
A fellow arrives at the Pearly Gates. Saint Peter asks him what he has done to deserve eternal bliss.
"Well, when I went on a road trip to Black Falls, I saw a biker gang at the side of the road, harassing a helpless old woman. So I stopped, marched right up to the gang's leader, and punched him right in the nose. Then I kicked him in the nuts, yanked him backward by the hair, and pulled out his nose ring. Then I told the rest of the gang, "Anybody who keeps messing with this woman is gonna get the same treatment. You got that?"
"Wow, that was very brave," Saint Peter says. "When did this happen?"
"Oh, just a couple minutes ago."
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"Her eyes in certain light were violet, and all her teeth were even. That's a rare, fair feature: even teeth. She smiled to excess, but she chewed with real distinction." - Eleanor of Aquitaine
After having dug to a depth of 10 meters last year, British scientists found traces of copper wire dating back 100 years and came to the conclusion that their ancestors already had a telephone network more than 100 years ago. Not to be outdone by the Poms, in the weeks that followed, Australian scientists dug to a depth of 20 meters, and shortly after, headlines in the Aussie newspapers read:
"Australian archaeologists have found traces of 150 year old copper wire and have concluded that their ancestors already had an advanced high-tech communications network 50 years earlier than the Brits."
One week later, Maori TV reported the following: "After digging as deep as 30 meters in his backyard in Te Kuiti, Hone Waiata, a King Country Kaumatua, reported that he found absolutely nothing. Hone has therefore concluded that 300 years ago Maori had already gone wireless."
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“Passion makes the world go round. Love just makes it a safer place.”
The notes are from an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting Texas from the East Coast:
Frank: "Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The Judge #3 called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to the Budweiser truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted."
Here are the scorecards from the event:
Chili # 1 (Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili)
Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
Judge # 3 -- (Frank) Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.
Chili # 2 (Arthur's Afterburner Chili)
Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.
Chili # 3 (Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili)
Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.
Judge # 2 -- A beanless chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.
Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now.
Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting shit-faced from all of the beer!
Chili # 4 (Bubba's Black Magic)
Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds?
Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills.
That 300-lb. bitch is starting to look HOT... just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?
Chili # 5 (Linda's Legal Lip Remover)
Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato.
Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks.
Chili # 6 (Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety)
Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge #3-- I shit myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that slut Sally. She must be kinkier than I thought. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone.
Chili # 7 (Susan's Screaming Sensation Chili)
Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should take note that I am worried about Judge #3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava-like shit to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing, it's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.
Chili # 8 (Tommy's Toe-Nail Curling Chili)
Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge # 3 passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor dude, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili?
So the word around Metropolis has spread that the Justice League is on the case, and as a result there is little to no crime happening in the city. As a result, we find Superman, flying through the air, bored as hell and looking for something to do.
As he flies through the air, he runs into The Green Lantern and they stop to talk. "Any crimes happening, anything going on?" says Superman. "Nothin'", says The Green Lantern, "In fact, I'm going off on vacation, see ya later!" The Green Lantern rockets off, leaving Superman almost bored to tears.
So Superman heads into the city trying to find even a minor crime, something, anything to help with his boredom. As he flies over a main highway, he sees Batman and Robin cruising down the street in the Batmobile. "Something must be up!" He says to himself, and flies down to investigate. "What's happening?" He says to the Dynamic Duo. "Is the Joker up to his old tricks? Need some help?" "Nah" Batman says, "We're taking the Batmobile in for maintenance during the downtime, there's nothing to do here." "Damn" says Superman. "Maybe if I head out to the Metroplois outskirts I can find something happening."
So off Superman goes, using his Super-vision to find something to do. As he flies on and on, he suddenly stops. There's Wonder Woman, butt-naked in a wheat field just laying there! "Damn" thinks Superman, "She's hot, and I've wanted a piece of that for a long, long time. But how do I do it?" "I know" he says, "I'll just fly down there at super speed, hit it, and be gone before she knows what's happening!" Already unzipping his fly, Superman accelerates to an amazing speed, heads straight for Wonder Woman, pounds the living hell out of her, and takes off - all in the blink of an eye.
Wonder Woman lies there in a state of shock and says 'What the HELL was that?"
"I don't know!" says the Invisible Man, "But my ass sure hurts!"
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Like a Koala that crapped a rainbow in your brain!
A National Guard unit was involved in a training exercise during their summer training camp. Due to a supply mix-up they didn't have any blank ammunition so they were told to point their rifles and shout "Bang!" if they encountered opposition forces, field judges accompanying their unit would decide who was killed and eliminated from the exercise. That worked quite well for most of the first day of the maneuvers, they killed and captured a number of enemy forces. Later, off in the distance, they saw a solitary soldier marching toward their position, his rifle slung over his shoulder, his hands held out before him as if holding a steering wheel. Through binoculars they could see that he was saying something over and over again. When he got close enough to hear them shout, they "opened fire" on him, shouting, "Bang, bang, bang, bang!" He kept marching toward them. The field judge yelled at the soldier, "You're dead!" He kept marching, shaking his head side to side, but still saying something. This angered the field judge, who then shouted "You're dead! Drop to the ground, soldier!" He kept marching, shaking his head in disagreement, and continued mouthing words they couldn't quite make out. Finally, he got close enough for them to hear what he was saying. He kept repeating ...
"Tank, tank, tank, tank, ... "
It's a Reader's Digest Humor in Uniform joke from about 40 years ago that I just recalled a few days ago. I thought, being an army fellow, California Tanker might get a kick out of it.
A Montana rancher [this might work for Oklahoma too?] got in his pickup and drove to a neighbouring ranch and knocked at the door. A young boy, about 9, opened the door.
"Is yer Dad home?" the rancher asked.
"No sir, he ain't," the boy replied. "He went into town."
"Well," asked the rancher, "is yer Mom here?"
"No, sir, she ain't here neither. She went into town with Dad."
"How about your brother, Howard? Is he here?"
"He went with Mom and Dad."
The rancher stood there for a few minutes, shifting from one foot to the other and mumbling to himself.
"Is there any thing I can do fer ya?" the boy asked politely. "I knows where all the tools are, if you want to borry one. Or maybe I could take a message fer Dad."
"Well," said the rancher uncomfortably, "I really wanted to talk to yer Dad. It's about your brother Howard getting my daughter, Pearly Mae, pregnant."
The boy considered for a moment. "You would have to talk to Pa about that" he finally conceded. "If it helps you any, I know that Pa charges $500 for the bull and $50 for the hog, but, I really don't know how much he gets fer Howard."
A preacher was completing a temperance sermon: with great expression he said, "If I had all the beer in the world, I'd take it and throw it into the river." With even greater emphasis he said, "And if I had all the wine in the world, I'd take it and throw it into the river."
And then finally, he said, "And if I had all the whiskey in the world, I'd take it and throw it into the river."
He sat down. The song leader then stood very cautiously and announced with a smile, "For our closing song, let us sing Hymn # 365: "Shall We Gather at the River."
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"Tact is just not saying true stuff. I'll pass." - Cordelia Chase
An Irishman walks into a bar in Dublin, orders three pints of Guinness and sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three more.
The bartender asks him, "You know, a pint goes flat after I draw it; it would taste better if you bought one at a time."
The Irishman replies, "Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in America, the other in Australia, and I'm here in Dublin. When we all left home, we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the days when we drank together." The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it at that. The Irishman becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same way: He orders three pints and drinks them in turn.
One day, he comes in and orders two pints. All the other regulars notice and fall silent. When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, "I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I would like to offer my condolences on your great loss."
The Irishman looks confused for a moment, then a light dawns in his eyes and he laughs. "Oh, no," he says, "Everyone's fine. I've just quit drinking."