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Are there any fellowships that have a "bad jokes" board? I don't mean a joke that is not a good joke, I mean; "I can't believe that was just said"... a place to post posts that would get blocked or cause me to be hidden on this board. Anyone?
POLICE HUMOR - WYOMING STATE POLICE - GOTTA LOVE 'EM!!!!!
IN MOST OF THE NORTHERN STATES, THERE IS A POLICY OF CHECKING ON ANY STALLED VEHICLE ON THE HIGHWAY WHEN THE TEMPERATURES DROP DOWN TO THE SINGLE DIGITS OR BELOW. ABOUT 3 A.M. ONE VERY COLD MORNING IN MARCH 2004, A STATE POLICE OFFICER RESPONDED TO A CALL: THERE WAS A CAR OFF THE SHOULDER OF THE ROAD ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF CASPER.
HE LOCATED THE CAR, STUCK IN DEEP SNOW AND WITH THE ENGINE STILL RUNNING. PULLING IN BEHIND THE CAR WITH HIS EMERGENCY LIGHTS ON, THE OFFICER WALKED TO THE DRIVER'S DOOR TO FIND AN OLDER MAN PASSED OUT BEHIND THE WHEEL WITH A NEARLY EMPTY VODKA BOTTLE ON THE SEAT BESIDE HIM.
THE DRIVER CAME AWAKE WHEN THE OFFICER TAPPED ON THE WINDOW. SEEING THE ROTATING LIGHTS IN HIS REAR VIEW MIRROR AND THE STATE POLICEMAN STANDING NEXT TO HIS CAR, THE MAN PANICKED, JERKED THE GEARSHIFT INTO "DRIVE" AND HIT THE GAS. THE CAR'S SPEEDOMOTER WAS SHOWING 20-30-40 AND THEN 50 MPH, BUT IT WAS STILL STUCK IN THE SNOW, WHEELS SPINNING.
THE POLICEMAN, HAVING A SENSE OF HUMOR, BEGAN RUNNING IN PLACE NEXT TO THE SPEEDING, BUT STILL STATIONARY CAR. THE DRIVER WAS TOTALLY FREAKED THINKING THE OFFICER WAS ACTUALLY KEEPING UP WITH HIM. THIS GOES ON FOR ABOUT 30 SECONDS WHEN THE PATROLMAN YELLED AT THE MAN ORDERING HIM TO "PULL OVER!" THE MAN OBEYED, TURNED HIS WHEEL AND STOPPED THE ENGINE. NEEDLESS TO SAY, THE MAN FROM CASPER WAS ARRESTED AND IS PROBABLY STILL SHAKING HIS HEAD OVER THE STATE PATROLMAN WHO COULD RUN 50 MILES PER HOUR.
The town founder had passed away and the whole town turned out, as did his family who arrived from all over the globe. This threw the mortuary into an uproar. They had some employees doing two or three jobs and others switching jobs to get everything done.
After the chapel services, all the members of the funeral party piled into the different cars for the drive to the cemetery. The procession was very long, and one group of family members, not knowing their way, decided to ask the driver how much further it would be. The patriarch tapped the driver on the shoulder, and said, "Pardon me....."
The driver let out a scream and turned with a grimace of horror to see who had tapped him. In doing so, he drove the car into the ditch and through a farmer's fence, almost overturning it.
After calming everyone down, the driver somberly explained, "I'm so sorry for what happened, but you see, I usually drive the hearse."
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:
A blonde and a lawyer are seated next to each other on a flight from LA to NY. The lawyer asks if she would like to play a fun game. The blonde, tired, just wants to take a nap, politely declines and rolls over to the window to catch a few winks.
The lawyer persists and explains that the game is easy and a lot of fun. He explains, "I ask you a question, and if you don't know the answer, you pay me $5.00, and vise versa." Again, she declines and tries to get some sleep.
The lawyer, now agitated, says, "Okay, if you don't know the answer you pay me $5.00, and if I don't know the answer, I will pay you $500.00." This catches the blonde's attention and, figuring there will be no end to this torment unless she plays, agrees to the game.
The lawyer asks the first question. "What's the distance from the earth to the moon?" The blonde doesn't say a word, reaches into her purse, pulls out a $5.00 bill and hands it to the lawyer. Okay says the lawyer, your turn.
She asks the lawyer, "What goes up a hill with three legs and comes down with four legs?" The lawyer, puzzled, takes out his laptop computer and searches all his references, no answer. He taps into the air phone with his modem and searches the net and the library of congress, no answer.
Frustrated, he sends emails to all his friends and coworkers, to no avail. After an hour, he wakes the blonde, and hands her $500.00. The blonde says, "Thank you," and turns back to get some more sleep.
The lawyer, who is more than a little miffed, wakes the blonde and asks, "Well, what's the answer?" Without a word, the blonde reaches into her purse, hands the lawyer $5.00, and goes back to sleep.
A store that sells new husbands has just opened in New York City, where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates:
You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors and the value of the products increase as the shopper ascends the flights. The shopper may choose any item from a particular floor, or may choose to go up to the next floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building!
So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband.
On the first floor the sign on the door reads: Floor 1 - These men Have Jobs.
The second floor sign reads: Floor 2 - These men Have Jobs and Love Kids.
The third floor sign reads: Floor 3 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, and are Extremely Good Looking. "Wow," she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.
She goes to the fourth floor and sign reads: Floor 4 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Good Looking and Help with Housework.
"Oh, mercy me!" she exclaims, "I can hardly stand it!"
Still, she goes to the fifth floor and sign reads: Floor 5 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Gorgeous, Help with Housework, and Have a Strong Romantic Streak.
She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor and the Sign reads: Floor 6 - You are visitor 31,456,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store.
To avoid gender bias charges, the store's owner opens a New Wives store just
across the street.
The first floor has wives that love sex.
The second floor has wives that love sex and have money.
The third through sixth floors have never been visited.
For all of us who are married, were married, wish you were married, or
wish you weren't married, this is something to smile about the next
time
you open a box of chocolates:
Sally was driving home from one of her business trips in Northern
Arizona
when she saw an elderly Navajo woman walking on the side of the road.
As
the trip was a long and quiet one, she stopped the car and asked the
Navajo woman if she would like a ride.
With a silent nod of thanks, the woman got into the car. Resuming the
journey, Sally tried in vain to make a bit of small talk with the
Navajo
woman. The old woman just sat silently, looking intently at
everything
she saw, studying every little detail, until she noticed a white bag
on
the seat next to Sally.
"What in bag?" asked the old woman.
Sally looked down at the white bag and said, "It's a box of
chocolates.
I got it for my husband."
"The Navajo woman was silent for another moment or two. Then speaking
with the quiet wisdom of an elder, she said: "Good trade."
A recent widow was crying to a grief counselor. "We were married twenty-five years before he died," she said, dabbing away a tear. "Never had an argument in all those years."
"Amazing," said the councelor. "How did you do it?"
"I outweighed him by forty pounds and he was a coward."
skipinnz: That joke is funny... but true. A long time ago, the Vatican added fish as acceptable food to eat during Lent... during that time, the Pope's family owned a large fishing fleet. Go figure... politics even in religion!
skipinnz: I got it! And it's funnier still because my dad works for a Chicken Franchise company as the Franchise Operations Manager and they use Inghams as the supplier :-)
A man walked into the produce section of his local supermarket, and asked
to buy half a head of lettuce.
The boy working in that department told him that they only sold whole heads of lettuce.
The man was insistent that the boy ask his manager about the matter.
Walking into the back room, the boy said to the manager, "Some old man wants to buy half a head of lettuce."
As he finished his sentence, he turned to find the man standing right behind him, so he
quickly added, "and this gentleman kindly offered to buy the other half."
The manager approved the deal, and the man went on his way.
Later the manager said to the boy, "I was impressed with the way you got yourself out of that situation earlier.
We like people who think on their feet here. Where are you from son?"
"New Zealand, sir," the boy replied.
"Well, why did you leave New Zealand?" the manager asked.
The boy said, "Sir, there's nothing but ladies of the night and rugby players there."
"Is that so?" replied the manager, adding, "My wife is from New Zealand!"
"Really?" the boy responded. "Who'd she play for?"
The CEO of Inghams Chicken managed to arrange a meeting with the Pope at
the Vatican. After receiving the Papal blessing, he whispered, “Your
Holiness, we have an offer for you. Inghams is prepared to donate $100
million dollars to the church if you change the Lord’s Prayer from ‘give
us this day our daily bread’ to, ‘give us this day our daily chicken.’”
The Pope responded, “That is impossible. The prayer is the word of the
Lord. It must not be changed.”
“Well,” said the Inghams man, “we anticipated your reluctance. For this
reason, we will increase our offer to $300 million dollars. All we
require is that you change the Lord’s Prayer from ‘give us this day our
daily bread’ to ‘give us this day our daily chicken.’”
Again, the Pope replied, “That, my son, is impossible, for the prayer is
the word of the Lord and it must not be changed.”
Finally, the Inghams’ CEO said, “Your Holiness, we at Inghams respect
your adherence to your faith, but we do have one final offer. We will
donate $500 million dollars – that’s half a billion dollars – to the
great Catholic Church if you would only change the Lord’s Prayer from
‘give us this day our daily bread’ to ‘give us this day our daily
chicken.’ Please consider it.”
And he left.
The next day the Pope convened the College of Cardinals. “There is some
good news,” he announced, “and some bad news.” “The good news is that
the Church will come into $500 million dollars.”
“And the bad news, Your Holiness?” asked a Cardinal.
I was walking across a bridge one day, and I saw a man standing on the edge, about to jump off. So I ran over & said, "Stop! Don't do it!... There's so much to live for!"
He said, "Like what?"
I said, "Well, are you religious or atheist?"
He said, "Religious."
I said, "Me too! Are you Christian or Buddhist?"
He said, "Christian."
I said, "Me too! Are you Catholic or Protestant?"
He said, "Protestant."
I said, "Me too! Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?"
He said, "Baptist!"
I said, "Wow! Me too! Are you Baptist Church of God or Baptist Church of the Lord?"
He said, "Baptist Church of God!"
I said, "Me too! Are you original Baptist Church of God, or Reformed Baptist Church of God?"
He said, "Reformed Baptist Church of God!"
I said, "Me too! Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1879, or Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915?"
He said, "Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915!"
(Cacher) Utilisez le bloc-notes pour voir à quoi ressemblera votre profil avec les balises html avant de le soumettre comme nouveau profil. (Uniquement pour les abonnés) (rednaz23) (Montrer toutes les astuces)