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A man with a bad stomach complaint goes to his doctor and asks him what he can do. The doctor replies that the illness is quite serious but can be cured by inserting a suppository up his anal passage. The man agrees, and so the doctor warns him of the pain, tells him to bend over and shoves the thing way up his behind. The doctor then hands him a second dose and tells him to do the same thing in six hours.
So, the man goes home and later that evening tries to get the second suppository inserted, but he finds that he cannot reach himself properly to obtain the required depth. He calls his wife over and tells her what to do. The wife nods, puts one hand on his shoulder to steady him and with the other shoves the medicine home.
Suddenly the man screams, "DAMN!"
"What's the matter?" asked the wife, "Did I hurt you?"
"No," replies the man, "but I just realised that when the doctor did that, he had BOTD hands on my shoulder!"
A depressed young woman was so desperate that she decided to end her life by throwing herself into the ocean. When she went down to the docks, a handsome young sailor noticed her tears, took pity on her, and said, "Look, you've got a lot to live for. I'm off to Europe in the morning, and if you like, I can stow you away on my ship. I'll take good care of you and bring you food every day."
Moving closer, he slipped his arm around her shoulder and added, "I'll keep you happy, and you'll keep me happy."
The girl nodded 'yes.' After all, what did she have to lose? That night, the sailor brought her aboard and hid her in a lifeboat. From then on, every night he brought her three sandwiches and a piece of fruit, and they made passionate love until dawn.
Three weeks later, during a routine search, she was discovered by the captain.
"What are you doing here?" the Captain asked.
"I have an arrangement with one of the sailors," she explained. "He's taking me to Europe, and he's screwing me."
"He sure is, lady," said the Captain. "This is the Staten Island Ferry."
There are two drug dealers who die and go to heaven. St. Peter is waiting for them at the pearly gates. He asks them to state their profession.
"Drug Dealers" they reply.
Well, St. Peters not sure, they've never had drug dealers in heaven before so he consults his boss.
God has a quick word with the drug dealers, he says "OK, we've never allowed dealers in here before but I'm willing to give you guys a chance. I'm going to send you back down to earth for a week and you've got to try to get as many people off drugs as possible. If you do well enough, you're in."
He then hand the dealers two metal rings each, one small one and one large one.
He says "Take these rings with you and see if they help you in any way"
A week passes and the dealers are back at the pearly gates looking pleased with themselves.
God says to the first one "How did you do?"
The first dealer says "Well I managed to get 92 people off drugs"
God replies "Wow, in one week that’s very good. How did you do it?"
The dealer says "Well first I showed them the large ring and said 'this is the size of your brain now'. And then I showed them the small ring and said 'This will be the size of your brain if you keep using drugs'. Seeing that most of them quit straight away."
God said "That's very good 92 people is only one week!"
Then he turns to the second dealer and asks "How about you?"
The second dealer replies "I got 4597 people off drugs in a week."
God looks amazed "How?"
The dealer smiles and says "Well I used a similar technique, but I used the rings differently. I showed them the small ring first and said 'That's the size of your asshole BEFORE you go into prison......'"
A man and a woman are riding next to each other in first class. The man sneezes, pulls out his dick and wipes the tip off. The woman can't believe what she just saw and decides she is hallucinating.
A few minutes pass. The man sneezes again. He pulls out his dick and wipes the tip off. The woman is about to go nuts. She can't believe that such a rude person exists. A few minutes pass. The man sneezes yet again. He takes his dick out and wipes the tip off.
The woman has finally had enough. She turns to the man and says, "Three times you've sneezed, and three times you've removed your penis from your pants to wipe it off! What the hell kind of degenerate are you?"
The man replies, "I am sorry to have disturbed you, ma'am. I have a very rare condition such that when I sneeze, I have an orgasm."
The woman then says, "Oh, how strange. What are you taking for it?"
The man looks at her and says, "Pepper."
There were two old men, they were friends for life. They loved to fish, and they did it very often.
One day one man said to the other, "We have been friends for life, so I feel that I can ask you anything and you won't be offended."
The other gentleman said, "You're right, what is it that you would like to ask me?"
The first man said, "What do you see in your wife? She's fat, smelly, and has got to be the ugliest woman I have ever seen. Is it that she gives ya good sex?"
The second man says, "Oh Hell no, I wouldn't have sex with her... She's got Gonorrhoea!"
The first man says, "GONORRHOEA! Yuck, well she's fat & ugly and has Gonorrhoea... what do ya see in her? Does she give good head?"
The second man cringes as he says, "Hell no, she's got Piarrhoea! I don't want head from her."
The first man says, "Piarrhoea! Good God almighty, you say she's got Gonorrhoea & Piarrhoea... and she's fat & ugly?" He sits back and casts out a few more times. "Well I gotta know, what is it? Do you like anal sex?"
The second man has a look of astonishment on his face, "There is no way I'm having anal sex with her, She's got Diarrhoea!"
The first man says, " Diarrhoea, Piarrhoea, & Gonorrhoea? That's down right sick! What DO you see in her?"
The second man says, "Well we have been fishing here for many years and I always catch the most fish... that's because she has got some good worms too!"
Elvis, Liberace and John Belushi are sitting around in Heaven bored out of their heavenly minds. They go to Gabriel and ask if there's any way they can get out. Apprehensively, he agrees to let them return to Earth for a short while, telling them that if they even *think* of committing a sin, they'll go straight to Hell.
So, zap, they're back on Hollywood Boulevard. As they're walking, Elvis sees a bar. He heads towards the door and the moment he touches it, poof!, he's gone. The other two realise that Gabriel was serious.
A little while later, John Belushi sees a little packet of white powder lying in the gutter. He thinks for a moment, bends over to pick it up and poof! Liberace disappears.
A woman is picked up by Dennis Rodman in a bar. They like each other and she goes back with him to his hotel room. He removes his shirt revealing all his tattoos and she sees that on his arm is one which reads, "Reebok". She thinks that's a bit odd and asks him about it. Dennis says, "When I play basketball, the cameras pick up the tattoo and Reebok pays me for advertisement." A bit later, his pants are off and she sees "Puma" tattooed on his leg. He gives the same explanation for the unusual tattoo. Finally, the underwear comes off and she sees the word "AIDS" tattooed on his penis. She jumps back with shock.
"I'm not going to do it with a guy who has AIDS!"
He says, "It's cool baby, in a minute it's going to say "ADIDAS".
A woman goes into a restaurant in a small southern town out in the country.
She orders the chicken and starts to eat. Eating too fast she starts to choke on a chicken bone. Well these two country boys in the next booth notice she is choking so they get up and go over to help her.
The first country boy drops his coveralls and bends over and the second country boy starts licking his butt. The woman watches these two go at it and is grossed out. She pukes all over the place dislodging the chicken bone from her throat. The country boy pulls his overalls back up and says to the other, "You're right Leroy, that 'hind-lick' manoeuvre works like a charm".
Knowing how frequently the financial struggle can get to all of us - starting a new job, school loans, daily bills, etc. - I thought you might be interested in an opportunity to make quite a bit of money with very little investment.
I spoke with my Podiatry friend Bruce Wellmon in Gaffney, SC, and the two of us are considering investing in a fairly large cat ranch, not too far from Gaffney. We think we should start small, with about one million cats. Each cat averages about 12 kittens per year; skins can be sold for about 20¢ for the white ones and up to 40¢ for the black ones. No, forget about the multicoloured. This will give us about 12 million cat skins per year to sell at an average price of around 33¢. This makes our gross revenues about $3 million per year, which averages out to about $10,000 a day, excluding Sundays & holidays.
A good cat man can skin about 50 cats per day, at a daily wage of $3.15. (Remember - we're in the northern part of South Carolina. In Charleston it's 2.97!) It will take only 663 men to operate the ranch, so the net profit would be over $8,200 per day.
Now the cats would be fed on rats exclusively. Rats multiply four times faster than cats. So to save transportation costs for feed we would start a rat ranch adjacent to the cat ranch. If we start with a million rats, we would have four rats per day for each cat. The rats will be fed on the carcasses of the cats that we skin. This will give each rat a quarter of a cat. You can see that this business is a clean operation, self-supporting and really automatic throughout. The cats will eat the rats, the rats will eat the cats, and we get the skins.
Eventually, it is my hope to cross the cats with snakes, for they will skin themselves twice a year. This will save the labour costs of skinning, as well as give us two skins for one cat. Better than twice the profit!
Let me know if you're interested. As you can imagine, we are rather particular as to with whom we're willing to "share the skin"; we want the fewest investors possible.
A couple of women were playing golf one sunny afternoon. The first of the twosome teed off and watched in horror as the ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole.
Sure enough, the ball hit one of the guys, and he immediately clasped his hands together at his crotch, fell to the ground, and proceeded to roll around in agony. The woman rushed over and immediately began to apologise.
She then explained that she was a physical therapist and offered to help ease his pain. "Ummph, ooh, nnooo, I'll be alright... I'll be fine in a few minutes", he replied as he remained in the fetal position still clasping his hands together at his crotch. But she persisted, and he finally allowed her to help him. She gently took his hands away and laid them to the side, loosened his pants and put her hands inside, beginning to massage him.
"Does that feel better?", she asked.
"Ohhh, Yeah....It feels *really* great", he replied, "But my thumb still hurts like hell!"
A blonde woman is driving along a country road out in rolling hills of the Midwest when she sees some movement off in the distance. As she gets closer, she realises that it is another blonde woman in a rowboat in the middle of a field rowing the boat like crazy.
She stops her car at the side of the road and gets out. She yells out to the blonde in the rowboat, "What the hell are you doing?"
The blonde in the boat, obviously flustered, yells back, "I have got to hurry up and get home in time for dinner or I will be in real trouble!"
The blonde at the side of the road is aggravated. "I can't believe this! You are out in the middle of a field in a row boat! It is blondes like you that give blondes like me a bad name! In fact, if I could swim, I would swim out there and kick your butt!"
If you're like me (and I know you are), you probably date quite a bit, and also like me, you find blowing off a chick the most difficult part of the dating process. After a second or perhaps third date that we know didn't go at all well, the closest we ever come to telling a chick it's over is to look her straight in the eye and say, "I'll call you next week." Of course, we have no intention of calling her and we may even feel a slight twinge of guilt.
But I have discovered a great way to blow a chick off. It's safe. It's affordable, and the best thing is the chick has noopportunity to throw things at you. And it's at your fingertips right now.
E-mail.
That's how all the happening, 90's kind of guys are telling chicks they're not worthy. You'll feel like a real man knowing you have told her how you really feel from the safety of your keyboard.
And you can delete her response without ever reading it. What could be more painless?
I have drafted the enclosed Email rejection letter and invite you to use it the next time you need to put your main squeeze on waivers.
The text of the letter follows. Hope it comes in handy.
I regret to inform you that you have been eliminated from further contention to become the future Mrs. (your last name). As you are probably aware, the competition was exceedingly tough this year and dozens of well-qualified candidates such as yourself also failed to make the final cut. I will, however, keep your name on file should an opening come available or I become extremely horny.
So that you may find better success in your future romantic endeavours, please allow me to offer the following reason(s) you were disqualified from the competition:
(Check those that apply)
Sincerely,
Once again, the female staff at Whatsamatta University will be offering courses for men of all marital status in an attempt to help males and females understand each other better. Attendance in at least 10 of the following is required.
Once upon a time, in a kingdom not far from here, a king summoned two of his advisors for a test. He showed them both a shiny metal box with two slots in the top, a control knob, and a lever. "What do you think this is?"
One advisor, an engineer, answered first. "It is a toaster," he said. The king asked, "How would you design an embedded computer for it?" The engineer replied, "Using a four-bit microcontroller, I would write a simple program that reads the darkness knob and quantizes its position to one of 16 shades of darkness, from snow white to coal black. The program would use that darkness level as the index to a 16-element table of initial timer values. Then it would turn on the heating elements and start the timer with the initial value selected from the table. At the end of the time delay, it would turn off the heat and pop up the toast. Come back next week, and I'll show you a working prototype."
The second advisor, a computer scientist, immediately recognised the danger of such short-sighted thinking. He said, "Toasters don't just turn bread into toast, they are also used to warm frozen waffles. What you see before you is really a breakfast food cooker. As the subjects of your kingdom become more sophisticated, they will demand more capabilities. They will need a breakfast food cooker that can also cook sausage, fry bacon, and make scrambled eggs. A toaster that only makes toast will soon be obsolete. If we don't look to the future, we will have to completely redesign the toaster in just a few years."
"With this in mind, we can formulate a more intelligent solution to the problem. First, create a class of breakfast foods. Specialise this class into subclasses: grains, pork, and poultry. The specialisation process should be repeated with grains divided into toast, muffins, pancakes, and waffles; pork divided into sausage, links, and bacon; and poultry divided into scrambled eggs, hard-boiled eggs, poached eggs, fried eggs, and various omelette classes."
"The ham and cheese omelette class is worth special attention because it must inherit characteristics from the pork, dairy, and poultry classes. Thus, we see that the problem cannot be properly solved without multiple inheritance. At run time, the program must create the proper object and send a message to the object that says, 'Cook yourself.' The semantics of this message depend, of course, on the kind of object, so they have a different meaning to a piece of toast than to scrambled eggs."
"Reviewing the process so far, we see that the analysis phase has revealed that the primary requirement is to cook any kind of breakfast food. In the design phase, we have discovered some derived requirements. Specifically, we need an object-oriented language with multiple inheritance. Of course, users don't want the eggs to get cold while the bacon is frying, so concurrent processing is required, too."
"We must not forget the user interface. The lever that lowers the food lacks versatility, and the darkness knob is confusing. Users won't buy the product unless it has a user-friendly, graphical interface. When the breakfast cooker is plugged in, users should see a cowboy boot on the screen. Users click on it, and the message 'Booting UNIX v. 8.3' appears on the screen. (UNIX 8.3 should be out by the time the product gets to the market.) Users can pull down a menu and click on the foods they want to cook."
"Having made the wise decision of specifying the software first in the design phase, all that remains is to pick an adequate hardware platform for the implementation phase. An Intel 80386 with 8MB of memory, a 30MB hard disk, and a VGA monitor should be sufficient. If you select a multitasking, object oriented language that supports multiple inheritance and has a built-in GUI, writing the program will be a snap. (Imagine the difficulty we would have had if we had foolishly allowed a hardware-first design strategy to lock us into a four-bit microcontroller!)."
The king wisely had the computer scientist beheaded, and they all lived happily ever after.
One of the most notorious villains in history, Attila's army had conquered all of Asia by 450 AD--from Mongolia to the edge of the Russian Empire--by destroying villages and pillaging the countryside.
How he died: He got a nosebleed on his wedding night.
In 453 AD, Attila married a young girl named Ildico. Despite his reputation for ferocity on the battlefield, he tended to eat and drink lightly during large banquets. On his wedding night, however, he really cut loose, gorging himself on food and drink. Sometime during the night he suffered a nosebleed, but was too drunk to notice. He drowned in his own blood and was found dead the next morning.
An important Danish astronomer of the 16th century. His ground breaking research allowed Sir Isaac Newton to come up with the theory of gravity.
How he died: Didn't get to the bathroom in time.
In the 16th century, it was considered an insult to leave a banquet table before the meal was over. Brahe, known to drink excessively, had a bladder condition -- but failed to relieve himself before the banquet started. He made matters worse by drinking too much at dinner, and was too polite to ask to be excused. His bladder finally burst, killing him slowly and painfully over the next 11 days.
Pioneered the use of anaesthesia in the 1840s.
How he died: Used anaesthetics to commit suicide.
While experimenting with various gases during his anaesthesia research, Wells became addicted to chloroform. In 1848 he was arrested for spraying two women with sulphuric acid. In a letter he wrote from jail, he blamed chloroform for his problems, claiming that he'd gotten high before the attack. Four days later he was found dead in his cell. He'd anaesthetised himself with chloroform and slashed open his thigh with a razor.
First President of the United States of America
Washington died as the result of syphilis. The treatment in those days was "bleeding." The doctors believed that his disease was caused by "bad blood," so they slit his arms with five razors and removed a few pints. Surprisingly, he was only worse the next day, so they reasoned that not enough blood had been removed. They repeated the procedure. This continued for eleven days until Washington died. The syphilis helped to insure Washington's role as "the father of our country!"
One of the most influential minds of the late 16th century. A statesman, a philosopher, a writer, and a scientist, he was even rumoured to have written some of Shakespeare's plays.
How he died: Stuffing snow into a chicken.
One afternoon in 1625, Bacon was watching a snowstorm and was struck by the wondrous notion that maybe snow could be used to preserve meat in the same way that salt was used. Determined to find out, he purchased a chicken from a nearby village, killed it, and then, standing outside in the snow, attempted to stuff the chicken full of snow to freeze it. The chicken never froze, but Bacon did.
Founding father of the organic food movement, creator of "Organic Farming and Gardening" magazine, and founder of Rodale Press, a major publishing corporation.
How he died: On the "Dick Cavett Show", while discussing the benefits of organic foods.
Rodale, who bragged "I'm going to live to be 100 unless I'm run down by a sugar-crazed taxi driver," was only 72 when he appeared on the "Dick Cavett Show" in January 1971. Part way through the interview, he dropped dead in his chair. Cause of death: heart attack. The show was never aired.
A Greek playwright back in 500 BC. Many historians consider him the father of Greek tragedies.
How he died: An eagle dropped a tortoise on his head.
According to legend, eagles picked up tortoises and attempt to crack them open by dropping them on rocks. An eagle mistook Aeschylus' head for a rock (he was bald) and dropped it on him instead.
Author of the best selling "Complete Book of Running," which started the jogging craze of the 1970s.
How he died: A heart attack....while jogging.
Fixx was visiting Greensboro, Vermont when he walked out of his house and began jogging. He'd only gone a short distance when he had a massive coronary. His autopsy revealed that one of his coronary arteries was 99% clogged, another was 80% obstructed, and a third was 70% blocked....and that Fixx had had three other attacks in the weeks prior to his death.
And finally there's Lully, one of our favourite 16th-century composers, who wrote music for the king of France.
While rehearsing the musicians, he got too serious beating time with his staff, and drove it right through his foot. He died of infection.
Membership at a given course - Additional assessments may be levied by the course owner and the rules are subject to change. For this reason, many players prefer to continue to play several different courses.
Question: Why were there only 49 contestants for the "Miss Ebonics U.S.A." Pageant?
Answer: No contestant wanted to wear a banner that said "Idaho"!
These beguiling ideas about science quoted here were gleaned from essays, exams and classroom discussions. Most were from 5th and 6th graders. They illustrate Mark Twain's contention that the most interesting information comes from children, for they tell all they know and then stop.
Read this message one line at a time and just do what it says. You will be glad you did.
But, there are no grey elephants in Denmark.
Did it work?
Some people say cats never have to be bathed. They say cats lick themselves clean. They say cats have a special enzyme of some sort in their saliva that works like New, Improved Wisk--dislodging the dirt where it hides and whisking it away. I've spent most of my life believing this folklore. Like most blind believers, I've been able to discount all the facts to the contrary - the kitty odours that lurk in the corners of the garage and dirt smudges that cling to the throw run by the fireplace.
The time comes, however, when a man must face reality; when he must look squarely in the face of massive public sentiment to the contrary and announce: "This cat smells like a port-a-potty on a hot day in Juarez." When that day arrives at your house, as has in mine, I have some advise you might consider as you place your feline friend under your arm and head for the bathtub:
Know that although the cat has the advantage of quickness and lack of concern for human life, you have the advantage of strength. Capitalise on that advantage by selecting the battlefield. Don't try to bathe him in an open area where he can force you to chase him. Pick a very small bathroom. If your bathroom is more that four feet square, I recommend that you get in the tub with the cat and close the sliding-glass doors as if you were about to take a shower. (A simple shower curtain will not do!!! A berserk cat can shred a three-ply rubber shower curtain quicker than a politician can shift positions.)
Know that a cat has claws and will not hesitate to remove all the skin from your body!!!! Your advantage here is that you are smart and know how to dress to protect yourself. I recommend canvas overalls tucked into high-top construction boots, a pair of steel-mesh gloves, an army helmet, a hockey face mask, and a long-sleeve flack jacket.
Prepare everything in advance. There is no time to go out for a towel when you have a cat digging a hole in your flak jacket. Draw the water. Make sure the bottle of kitty shampoo is inside the glass enclosure. Make sure the towel can be reached, even if you are lying on your back in the water.
Use the element of surprise. Pick up your cat nonchalantly, as if to simply carry him to his supper dish. (Cats will not usually notice your strange attire. They have little or no interest in fashion as a rule. If he does notice your garb, calmly explain that you are taking part in a product-testing experiment for J.C. Penney.)
Once you are inside the bathroom, speed is essential to survival. In a single liquid motion: shut the bathroom door, step into the tub enclosure, slide the glass door shut, dip the cat in the water, and squirt him with shampoo. You have begun one of the wildest 45 seconds of your life.
Cats have no handles.
Add the fact that you now have soapy fur, and the problem is radically compounded. Do no expect to hold on to him for more than two or three seconds at a time. When you have him, however, you must remember to give him another squirt of shampoo and rub like crazy. He'll then spring free and fall back into the water, thereby rinsing himself off. (The national record is, for cats, three latherings, so don't expect too much.)
Next, the cat must be dried. Novice cat bathers always assume this part will be the most difficult, for humans generally are worn out at this point and the cat is just getting really determined. In fact, the drying is simple compared to what you have just been through. That's because by now the cat is semi-permanently affixed to your right leg. You simply pop the drain plug with your foot, reach for your towel and wait. (Occasionally, however, the cat will end up clinging to the top of your army helmet. If this happens, the best thing you can do is shake him loose and to encourage him toward you leg.) After all the water is drained from the tub, it is a simple matter to just reach down and dry the cat.
In a few days the cat will relax enough to be removed from your leg. He will usually have nothing to say for about three weeks and will spend a lot of time sitting with his back to you. He might even become psychoceramic and develop the fixed stare of a plaster figurine.
You will be tempted to assume that he is angry. This isn't usually the case. As a rule he is simply plotting ways to get through your defences and injure you for life the next time you decide to give him a bath.
But, at least now he smells a lot better. :)