A place to share jokes, funny stories, and to just laugh in general :-)
Please remember this board can be (and is) accessed by children. All jokes should be family friendly. No profanity No jokes of a sexual nature
KEEP IT PG rated
Thanks!
Liste der Diskussionsforen
Es ist Dir nicht erlaubt, Nachrichten in diesem Forum zu schreiben. Man muss dazu mindestens den Mitgliedsrang Brain Springer (Knight) haben!
If you ever testify in court, you might wish you could have been as sharp as this policeman.
He was being cross-examined by a defense attorney during a felony trial. The lawyer was
trying to undermine the policeman's credibility....
Q: "Officer -- did you see my client fleeing the scene?"
A: "No sir. But I subsequently observed a person matching the description of the offender, running several blocks away."
Q: "Officer -- who provided this description?"
A: "The officer who responded to the scene."
Q: "A fellow officer provided the description of this so-called offender. Do you trust your fellow officers?"
A: "Yes, sir. With my life."
Q: "With your life? Let me ask you this then officer. Do you have a room where you change your clothes in preparation for your daily duties?"
A: "Yes sir, we do!"
Q: "And do you have a locker in the room?"
A: "Yes sir, I do."
Q: "And do you have a lock on your locker?"
A: "Yes sir."
Q: "Now why is it, officer, if you trust your fellow officers with your life, you find it necessary to lock your locker in a room you share with these same officers?"
A: "You see, sir -- we share the building with the court complex, and sometimes lawyers have been known to walk through that room."
The courtroom erupted in laughter, and a prompt recess was called.
The officer on the stand has been nominated for this year's "Best Comeback" line -- and we think he'll win.
Yoga Puts Me in a Bad Position
This is a copywritten story and it would be great if you kept the
copyright intact when you forward it.
Copyright 2006 W. Bruce Cameron www.wbrucecameron.com
Experts tell you that to stay in top physical condition, you should
keep your strength and cardiovascular workouts in even proportion with
your stretching exercises. For years I have done this, keeping all
three at the same level, which is to say, zero. But when a newly
opened yoga studio sent me a letter telling me I could come in for a
free lesson, I was eager to go because it stated the program would be
tailored very specifically for my personal needs, which I took to mean
there would be a wine-and-cheese party afterward.
Yoga is a Sanskrit word for "smarter than the average bear." It is
based on the belief that if you lie twisted up on the floor, one arm
behind your neck and the other sticking out between your legs, ankles
on opposing shoulders, your knees grinding into your backbone, you
will find yourself in a state of mental and physical serenity that
only a chiropractor can fix.
When I arrived at the yoga studio I was disappointed to see that I
wouldn't be able to take a lesson after all, because a new Mexican
cafe had opened up across the street and was giving out complimentary
samples. One has to have priorities in life, and my priority is free
food. While I was in the restaurant, however, I ran into two yoga
students who enthusiastically sold me on the number-one benefit of
yoga: Each lesson ends with a nap! It's called "kielbasa," I think
they said--the instructor turns off the lights, gives everyone a
blanket, and lets you lie there like a kindergartener at rest time.
I told the woman at the yoga center that I wanted the lesson that
ended with the nap that sounded like sausage. Within a few minutes I
was led into a large gym and guided to a flat mat on the floor.
The instructor was a painfully slender and fit woman whose arms and
legs glowed with fake muscle tone. "Before we begin," she announced,
"are there any special needs or requests?"
"I'm not sure if it is a need or a request, but I'd like a pillow," I
told her.
She laughed--apparently this wouldn't be "full service" yoga
kielbasa. "Let's begin," she said, and within minutes was talking us
through a series of complex exercises like this: "Take the outer part
of your inner right thigh and push it toward the center of your lower
left knee, opening your hips." I fell to the floor as if I'd been
tossed from a moving bus. "Now reach for the ceiling," she coaxed
softly. "Try to feel your rib cage shatter, as your ligaments snap
and your muscles shred. That's right. Feel your organs fail and your
brain stem swell."
This might not be exactly what she said in her quiet, evil chant, but
it is how I interpreted it. Then she had us bend at the waist, feet
and hands flat on the floor, at which time it occurred to me that I'd
eaten a bean burrito for lunch--and that I was just moments away from
having it occur to other people as well.
The sensation was similar to what happens when you swallow an air
hose and then become a professional contortionist. Nearly sobbing
with effort, I concentrated on not becoming a human Hindenburg while
the instructor continued her sadistic drills without any hint of the
promised Polish sausage.
"Up down," she commanded. "Ache hurt. Pain die." (Again, this
might not be exactly what she said.)
Finally she had us twist ourselves into a position for which the word
"impossible" was invented, and I experienced what I suppose might be
termed "explosive decompression." It sounded like a tuba player being
sat on by an elephant. Everyone looked at me in alarm. "It's okay, I
feel a lot better now," I assured them. The people closest to me were
so relieved they had tears in their eyes.
By nap time nearly all the students had left, which I thought was
rather odd. After all that work, why wouldn't they stick around for
kielbasa? It was the best part!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++++
For reprint permission, including web sites, please write me at
Bruce@wbrucecameron.com
This newsletter may be distributed freely via e-mail but you MUST
include the following subscription and copyright information:
Even though this lady is residing in MY house, she may at some time appear in yours. Be alert!
A very weird thing has happened. A strange old lady has moved into my house.
I have no idea who she is, where she came from, or how she got in. I certainly did not invite her. All I know is that one day she wasn't there, and the next day she was!
She is a clever old lady and manages to keep out of sight for the most part, but whenever I pass a mirror, I catch a glimpse of her. And whenever I look in the mirror to check my appearance, there she is hogging the whole thing, completely obliterating my gorgeous face and body. This is very rude!
I have tried screaming at her, but she just screams back. The least she could do is offer to pay part of the rent, but no. Every once in a while, I find a dollar bill stuck in a coat pocket, or some loose change under a sofa cushion, but it is not nearly enough.
I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I think she is stealing money from me. I go to the ATM and withdraw $100, and a few days later, it's all gone!
I certainly don't spend money THAT fast, so I can only conclude the old lady is pilfering from me. You'd think she would spend some of that money to buy wrinkle cream.
And money isn't the only thing I think she is stealing. Food seems to disappear at an alarming rate -- especially the good stuff like ice cream, cookies, and candy.. She must have a real sweet tooth, but she'd better watch it, because she is really packing on the pounds. I suspect she realizes this, and to make herself feel better, she is tampering with my scale to make me think I am putting on weight, too.
For an old lady, she is quite childish. She likes to play nasty games, like going into my closets when I'm not home and altering my clothes so they don't fit. And she messes with my files and papers so I can't find anything. This is particularly annoying since I am extremely neat and organized.
She has found other imaginative ways to annoy me. She gets into my mail, newspapers, and magazines before I do and blurs the print so I can't read it. And she has done something really sinister to the volume controls on my TV, radio, and telephone. Now, all I hear are mumbles and whispers.
She has done other things--like make my stairs steeper, my vacuum cleaner heavier and all my knobs and faucets harder to turn. She even made my bed higher so that getting into and out of it is a real challenge.
Lately, she has been fooling with my groceries before I put them away, applying glue to the lids, making it almost impossible for me to open the jars.
She has taken the fun out of shopping for clothes. When I try something on, she stands in front of the dressing room mirror and monopolizes it. She looks totally ridiculous in some of those outfits, plus, she keeps me from seeing how great they look on me.
Just when I thought she couldn't get any meaner, she proved me wrong.
She came along when I went to get my picture taken for my driver's license, and just as the camera shutter clicked, she jumped in front of me!
Snow White took photos of the Dwarfs and their surroundings.
She took the film to be developed. After a week or so she
went to get the finished photos.
The clerk said the photos were not back from the processor.
Needless to say, she was disappointed and started to cry.
The clerk, trying to console her, said, "Don't worry. Someday
your prints will come."
A sailor was caught AWOL as he tried to sneak on board his
ship at about 3 am.
The chief petty officer spied him and ordered the sailor to
stop. Upon hearing the sailor's lame explanation for his
tardiness, the officer ordered the sailor, "Take this broom
and sweep every link on this anchor chain by morning or it's
the brig for you!"
The sailor began to pick up the broom and commence
performing his charge. As he began to sweep, a tern landed
on the broom handle. The sailor yelled at the bird to leave,
but it didn't. The lad picked the tern off the broom handle,
giving the bird a toss. The bird left, only to return and
light once again on the broom handle. The sailor went
through the same routine all over again, with the same
result. He couldn't get any cleaning done because he can only
sweep at the chain once or twice before the blasted bird
returns.
When morning came, so did the chief petty officer, to check
up on his wayward sailor.
"What in the heck have you been doing all night? This chain
is no cleaner than when you started! What have you to say
for yourself, sailor?" barked the chief.
"Honest, chief," came the reply, "I tossed a tern all night
and couldn't sweep a link!"
One day, two snakes were going along their way. The first snakes asks, "Are we poisonous?" The second snake says, "I don't know. Why?" The first one replies, "Because I just bit my tongue."
At a recent computer expo (COMDEX), Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry and stated:
"If GM had kept up with technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving $25 cars that got 1000 miles to the gallon."
In response to Bill's comments, General Motors issued a press release stating:
"If GM had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be driving cars with the following characteristics:"
1. For no reason whatsoever your car would crash twice a day.
2. Every time they repainted the lines on the road you would have to buy a new car.
3. Occasionally your car would die on the freeway for no reason, and you would just accept this, restart and drive on.
4. Occasionally, executing a maneuver such as a left turn would cause your car to shut down and refuse to restart, in which case you would have to reinstall the engine.
5. Only one person at a time could use the car, unless you bought "Car95" or "CarNT" but then you would have to buy more seats.
6. Macintosh would make a car that was powered by the sun, reliable, five times as fast, and twice as easy to drive, but would only run on 5% of the roads.
7. The oil, water temperature and alternator warning lights would be replaced by a single "general car fault" warning light.
8. New seats would force everyone to have the same size bottom.
9. The airbag system would say, "Are you sure?" before going off.
10. Occasionally for no reason whatsoever, your car would lock you out and refuse to let you in until you simultaneously lift the door handle, turn the key, and grab hold of the radio antenna.
11. GM would require all car buyers to also purchase a deluxe set of Rand McNally road maps (now a GM subsidiary), even though they neither need them or want them. Attempting to delete this option would immediately cause the car's performance to diminish by 50% or more. Moreover, GM would become a target for investigation by the Justice Department.
12. Every time GM introduced a new model car buyers would have to learn how to drive all over again because none of the controls would operate in the same manner as the old car.
13. You'd press the "start" button to shut off the engine
The Birth of Yahoo
An old, bearded shepherd, with a crooked staff, walks up to a stone pulpit and says . . .
And, lo, it came to pass that the trader by the name of Abraham Com did take unto himself a young wife by the name of Dot. And Dot Com was a comely woman, broad of shoulder and long of leg. Indeed, she had been called Amazon Dot Com. And she said unto Abraham, her husband, "Why doth thou travel far from town to town with thy goods, when thou can trade without ever leaving thy tent?"
And Abraham did look at her as though she were several saddle bags short of a camel load, but simply said, "How, dear?"
And Dot replied, "I will place drums in all the towns and drums in between to send messages saying what you have for sale and they will reply telling you which hath the best price. And the sale can be made on the drums and delivery by Uriah's Pony Stable (UPS)."
Abraham thought long and decided he would let Dot have her way with the drums. And Dot said, "There will be a lot of banging in the land."
And Abraham replied, "It is my most fervent wish that this be so." And the drums rang out and were an immediate success. Abraham sold all the goods he had, at the top price, without ever moving from his tent.
But his success did arouse envy. A man named Maccabia did secret himself inside Abraham's drum and was accused of insider trading.
And the young did take to Dot Com's trading as doth the greedy horsefly to camel dung. They were called Nomadic Ecclesiastical Rich Dominican Siderites, or NERDS for short.
And, lo, the land was so feverish with joy at the new riches and the deafening sound of drums, that no one noticed that the real riches were going to the drum maker, one Brother William of Gates, who bought up every drum company in the land. And indeed did insist on making drums that would only work if you bought Brother William's drumsticks.
And Dot did say, "Oh, Abraham, what we have started is being taken over by others."
And as Abraham looked out over the Bay of Ezekiel, or as it came to be known, "eBay, " he said, "We need a name of a service that reflects what we are." And Dot replied, "Young Ambitious Hebrew Owner Operators."
"Whoopee!" said Abraham.
"No, YAHOO!" said Dot Com.
Mongoloid: Sorry, I really don't know. If you send a message to one of the mods, they may be able to tell you. Hannelore or Bry is your best bet, I believe MadMonkey is having PC problems at the moment and can't get online much. Good luck :o)
This really isn't the place to ask! But, the mods decided to change the settings so pawns can't post, because a few were causing trouble. theres a post about it, but its probably quite far down now.
Not quite, ughaibu! Although I did meet a monk once, Father Francis. He tours the UK singing and raising money for his monastery. Wonderful man, and a great singer.
A man was driving past a beautiful old monastery when his car broke down.
He walked up the long drive and knocked on the door. A Monk answered,
listened to the man's story, then graciously invited him to spend the
night.
The Monks fed the man and led him to a tiny chamber in which to sleep.
He slept serenely until he was awakened by a strange and beautiful
sound.
Next morning, as the Monks were repairing his car, he asked about the
sound that had awakened him.
"We're sorry," the Monks replied. "We cannot tell you about the sound.
You are not a Monk."
Disappointed, the man thanked them for their hospitality and went on
his way.
For years he pondered about the source of the alluring sound.
Finally one day he went by the monastery, explained to the Monks that
he had so enjoyed his previous stay that he wondered if he might be
permitted to spend another night under their peaceful roof. The Monks obliged,
and once again the man was awakened by the strange beautiful sound.
The following morning the man begged the Monks to explain the sound,
and they gave him the same answer as before. "We're sorry. We cannot
tell you about the sound. You are not a Monk."
By now the man's curiosity had turned to obsession. He decided to give
up everything and become a Monk, for that was the only way he could learn
what he wanted to know about the sound. He informed the Monks of his
decision and began the long arduous task of becoming a Monk.
Seventeen years later, the man was finally a true member of the order.
When the celebrating ended, he went humbly to the leader of the order and
asked to be told the source of the sound.
Silently, the old Monk led the new Monk to a huge wooden door. He
opened the door with a golden key. The door swung open to reveal a second
door of silver, then a third door of gold, and so on until they had passed
through twelve doors....each more magnificent than the last. The new Monk's face was
awash with tears of joy as he finally beheld the wondrous source of the
beautiful mysterious sound he had heard so many years before.
/
\
/
\
/
\
/
But....I cannot tell you what it was. You are not a Monk
Here's something just for fun ... something to make you laugh when you don't
feel like laughing. By the way .... I'm not taking responsibility for anyone
crazy enough to do some of these things!
Suggestions for Handling Stress
1. Jam 39 marshmallows up your nose and try to sneeze them out.
2. Use your Mastercard to pay your Visa.
3. Pop some popcorn without putting the lid on.
4. When someone says, "Have a nice day", tell them you have other plans.
5. Find out what a frog in a blender really looks like.
6. Forget Jenny Craig and send yourself chocolates.
7. Make a list of things to do that you've already done.
8. Dance naked in front of your pets.
9. Put your toddlers clothes on backwards and send them off to pre-school like
nothing was wrong.
10. Retaliate for tax woes by filling your tax forms with Roman numerals.
11. Tattoo :Out to Lunch" on your forehead.
12. Tape pictures of your boss/least favorite professor on watermelons and
launch them from high places.
13. Leaf through a National Geographic and draw underwear on all the natives.
14. Go shopping. Buy everything. Sweat in it. Return it the next day.
15. Buy a subscription to Penthouse or High Times and send it to your boss's
work address.
16. Pay your electric bill in pennies.
17. Drive to work in reverse.
18. Relax by mentally reflecting on your favorite episode of "The Flintstones"
during an important finance meeting.
19. Sit naked on a shelled hard-boiled egg.
20. Refresh yourself; put your tongue on a cold steel guard rail.
21. Tell your boss to blow it out his mule and let him figure it out.
22. Polish your car with ear wax.
23. Read the dictionary upside-down and look for secret messages.
24. Start a nasty rumor and see if you can recognize it when it comes back to
you.
25. Bill your doctor for time spent in his waiting room.
26. Braid the hairs in each nostril.
27. Write a short story using alphabet soup.
28. Lie on you back eating celery using your navel as a salt dipper.
29. Stare at people through the tines of a fork and pretend they're in jail.
30. Make up a language and ask people for directions.
Did you hear about the dyslexic devil worshipper?
He sold his soul to Santa!
How many witches does it take to change a lightbulb???
None -- if a candle was good enough for Gramma it's good enough for me!
Sign in a Wiccan Bookstore: "No Shoplifting! Offenders will be Possessed!
Second-time Offenders will be Re-Possessed!"
Definition of Irish Diplomacy;
The Art of telling a man to go to hell, so that he actually looks forward to the
trip.
What's another name for Irish sunblock...?
A pub.
Carpe Nocturnum:
'We get more done after 2 a.m. then most people do all day'
Sign posted at an Artist Cooperative shop:
WARNING! Unattended children may be eaten by starving artists!
How many Witches does it take to change a light bulb?
Depends on what you want to change it into.
If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?
Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo.
Heck is a place for people who don't believe in Gosh.
" I believe in dragons, good men, and other fantasy creatures "
Did you hear, Easter is canceled this year........yeah, they found the body.
A child's version of Easter: easter is when they crucified jesus, and put him
in a cave. three days later he rose again on easter sunday. when he came out
of the cave, he got scared by his shadow, went back in, and they had 3 more
months of winter!
The Mighty God Thor was riding across the skies on his fiery steed Pegasus. He
raised his hammer and bellowed, "I'M THOR! I'M THOR!" Pegasus looked up at
him and muttered, "You thoulda wore your thaddle, thilly."
Blessings on this fine machine,
May its data all be clean.
Let the files stay where they're put,
Away from disk drives keep all soot.
From its screen shall come no whines,
Let in no spikes on power lines.
As oaks were sacred to the Druids,
Let not the keyboard suffer fluids.
Disk Full shall be nor more than rarity,
The memory shall not miss its parity.
From the modem shall come wonders,
Without line noise making blunders.
May it never catch a virus,
And all its software stay desirous.
Oh let the printer never jam,
And turn my output into spam.
I ask of Eris, noble queen,
Keep Murphy far from this machine.
To: Large Human Resident of My Home
From: Her Royal Highness, Princess Feline
Subject: The burdens I must bear
You are my most senior staff member, and by "senior" I mean, of
course, "oldest," because I hold both of your daughters in much higher
regard. This position means you have certain responsibilities,
responsibilities you are not living up to.
Naturally, I am speaking about the dog, who has recently written a
cowardly memo to you in an attempt to spark a revolt in the household.
It was your duty to administer swift and preferably capital
punishment to the insubordinate animal, and your dismal failure in the
matter has led me to craft this letter. This forces me to do
something I am utterly loathe to do--acknowledge your existence. I
must warn you that as a result, I am putting a copy of this memo in
your personnel file.
This whole matter is most unseemly, as the dog lacks standing to
register a complaint of any kind. This is an animal who, when
excited, attempts to make love to the sofa--an animal who, when
allowed outside, rewards us by defecating in our yard!
How often, I ask you, have we been enjoying a lovely evening of our
favorite activity--sitting in front of the television in the family
room, everyone taking turns stroking and worshiping me--only to have
this mutt release a gaseous emission that brings tears to our eyes and
screams of anguish from your children? Of course, you yourself are to
blame here for the bad example you set with your own flatulent
behavior. In fact, there is such a strong link between your initial
discharge and the dog's follow-up volleys that I've come to think of
them as "sympathy farts." You'll never catch a cat performing such an
indelicacy. In my view the both of you should be banished to the
deck--you can watch television and me through the window.
His tendency to bark at the most routine event--such as the ringing
of the doorbell (is this supposed to be some sort of warning? We all
heard the doorbell, for goodness sake!) is most perturbing, as it
interferes with my hobby--bird watching. (I've been observing the
birds in the feeder for more than a year now, and have determined that
most of them can be classified as "edible.")
The only function at which the animal excels is as a pillow for my
mid-late afternoon nap, and sometimes for my early late afternoon nap
as well. Yet even at this he often fails, falling into a restless
state full of leg-twitching and soft yipping. (I know you think he is
dreaming of chasing rabbits, but nothing could be further from the
truth. You know what he is dreaming of? Running from cats, and well
he should. He knows he's in serious trouble with me, you can tell by
the way he slinks around in my presence.)
As a species, canines represent a broken rung on the evolutionary
ladder. Have you ever seen two or more of them mingle together? They
sniff each other in unmentionable places, then race over to lift their
legs on the bushes, proudly strutting around as if they've caught a
mouse or something, when all they've done is urinate on target.
Even worse: I think the fool canine actually likes me. It's probably
because I am so beautiful; but have you ever thought about what it is
like to be licked by that tongue? It's like being wiped down with a
drooling carpet.
In short, the dog has done nothing but cause trouble ever since I,
its replacement as the most beloved animal in the house, arrived to
take the throne. This attempt to violate the chain of command and
appeal to you to stage some sort of peasant uprising is just the
latest affront. We would be much better served if we replaced him
with a pet we would all find more enjoyable and fun.
May I suggest a family of free-range gerbils?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++
The Cameron Column, A Free Internet Newsletter
Copyright W. Bruce Cameron 2004 http://www.wbrucecameron.com/
1. I don't do windows because ... I love birds and don't want one to run into a clean window and get hurt.
2. I don't wax floors because ... I am terrified a guest will slip, hurt themselves, I'll feel terrible and they may sue me.
3. I don't mind the dust bunnies because ... they are very good company, I have named most of them, and they agree with everything I say.
4. I don't disturb cobwebs because ... I want every creature to have a home of their own and hubby loves spiders.
5. I don't Spring Clean because ... I love all the seasons and don't want the others to get jealous.
6. I don't plant a garden because ... I don't want to get in God's way, he is an excellent designer.
7. I don't put things away because ... my husband will never be able to find them again.
8. I don't do gourmet meals when I entertain because .... I don't want my guests to stress out over what to make when they invite me over for dinner.
9. I don't iron because ... I choose to believe them when they say "Permanent Press".
10. I don't stress much on anything because ... "A Type" personalities die young and I want to stick around and become a wrinkled up crusty ol' woman!!!!
It must be somewhere near me, Backoff! We have a roundabout here, and through the village there are loads of '30MPH' signs and speed cameras. As you approach the roundabout it has a national speed limit sign - IMMEDIATELY behind that sign is one that says 'roundabout - reduce your speed'! Exactly where do you get to do the national speed limit?! Unless you have a 1-50 in 1 second car, the sign is useless!
1. DELIA'S WAY
Stuff a miniature marshmallow in the bottom of a sugar cone to
prevent ice cream drips.
THE REAL WOMAN'S WAY
Just suck the ice cream out of the bottom of the cone, for God's
sake. You are probably lying on the couch with your feet up eating
it anyway.
2. DELIA'S WAY
To keep potatoes from budding, place an apple in the bag with the
potatoes.
THE REAL WOMAN'S WAY
Buy Smash and keep it in the cupboard for up to a year.
3. DELIA'S WAY
When a cake recipe calls for flouring the baking tin, use a bit
of the dry cake mix instead and there won't be any white mess on
the outside of the cake.
REAL WOMAN'S WAY
Tesco's sell cakes. They even do decorated versions.
4. DELIA'S WAY
If you accidentally over-salt a dish while it's still cooking,
drop in a potato slice.
REAL WOMAN'S WAY
If you over salt a dish while your are cooking, thats tough.
Now, please recite with me the Real Woman's motto: "I made it, and
you will eat it, and I don't care how bad it tastes"
5. DELIA'S WAY
Wrap celery in aluminium foil when putting in the refrigerator
and it will keep for weeks.
REAL WOMAN'S WAY
Let it keep forever. Who eats it anyway?
6. DELIA'S WAY
Brush some beaten egg white over piecrust before baking to yield
beautiful glossy finish.
REAL WOMAN'S WAY
Sainsbury's frozen pie directions do not include brushing any egg
white over the crust - so we don't do that.
7. DELIA'S WAY
Cure for headaches. Take a lime, cut it in half and rub in on
your forehead. The throbbing will go away.
REAL WOMAN'S WAY
Cure for headaches. Take a lime, cut it in half and drop it in 8
ounces of vodka. Drink the vodka. You might still have the
headache, but at least you will be happy!
8. DELIA'S WAY
If you have a problem opening jars, try using latex dishwashing
gloves. They give a non-slip grip that makes opening jars easy.
REAL WOMAN'S WAY
Forget the gloves, use that gadget you keep in front of the TV
... that's what he's there for isn't it?
And finally .
9. DELIA'S WAY
Freeze leftover wine into ice cubes for future use in casseroles
and sauces.
REAL WOMAN'S WAY
Leftover wine???? .... Hello!!!!!
Q: How many internet mail list subscribers does it take to
change a light bulb?
A: 1,331:
* 1 to change the light bulb and to post to the mail list that
the light bulb has been changed
* 14 to share similar experiences of changing light bulbs and
how the light bulb could have been changed differently.
* 7 to caution about the dangers of changing light bulbs.
* 27 to point out spelling/grammar errors in posts about
changing light bulbs.
* 53 to flame the spell checkers
* 156 to write to the list administrator complaining about the
light bulb discussion and its inappropriateness to this mail
list.
* 41 to correct spelling in the spelling/grammar flames.
* 109 to post that this list is not about light bulbs and to
please take this email exchange to alt.lite.bulb
* 203 to demand that cross posting to alt.grammar, alt.spelling
and alt.punctuation about changing light bulbs be stopped.
* 111 to defend the posting to this list saying that we are all
use light bulbs and therefore the posts **are** relevant to this
mail list.
* 306 to debate which method of changing light bulbs is
superior, where to buy the best light bulbs, what brand of light
bulbs work best for this technique, and what brands are faulty.
* 27 to post URLs where one can see examples of different light
bulbs
* 14 to post that the URLs were posted incorrectly, and to post
corrected URLs.
* 3 to post about links they found from the URLs that are
relevant to this list which makes light bulbs relevant to this
list.
* 33 to concatenate all posts to date, then quote them including
all headers and footers, and then add "Me Too."
* 12 to post to the list that they are unsubscribing because
they cannot handle the light bulb controversy.
* 19 to quote the "Me Too's" to say, "Me Three."
* 4 to suggest that posters request the light bulb FAQ.
* 1 to propose new alt.change.lite.bulb newsgroup.
* 47 to say this is just what alt.physic.cold_fusion was meant
for, leave it here.