25 June 2010
It’s HOT outside! Great weekend wishes! ;) DrB
Contents this week:
· From Denny Adams - Depressed
· From SymanSays – Buzzard, Bat Vumble Bee, People
· From Feedblitz – Faster, Faster!
· From Tom Sokolowski – Irish Confessional
· From Cousin Gaylannie – Signs of the Times
· From Tom Sokolowski – Kicked Out of Bio Class
· From Denny Adams – PC Lament – apologies to Edgar Allen Poe
· From Sokolowski – Wife Asks Husband …
· From Frnk Ingrassia – BP: Some Coffee Spills
· From Barbara Rosenberg – Bitches ‘til the End
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From Denny Adams - Depressed
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I was depressed last night so I called a local Lifeline. Got a call center in Pakistan. I told them I was suicidal. They got all excited and asked if I could drive a truck.
I was depressed last night so I called a local Lifeline. Got a call center in Pakistan. I told them I was suicidal. They got all excited and asked if I could drive a truck.
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From SymanSays – Buzzard, Bat Vumble Bee, People
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Buzzrd, Bat, Bumble Bee, People. -From Tom-
The Buzzard:
If put a buzzard in a pen that is 6 feet by 6 feet and is entirely open at the top, the bird, in spite of it ability to fly, will be an absolute prisoner. The reason is that a Buzzard always begins a flight from the ground with a run of 10-12 feet.
Without space to run, as is habit, it will not even attempt to fly, but will remain a prisoner for life in a small jar with no top.
The Bat:
The ordinary Bat that flies around at night, a remarkably nimble creature in the air, cannot take off from a level place. If it is placed on a floor or flat ground, all it can do us shuffle about helplessly and, no doubt painfully, until it reaches some slight elevation from which it can throw itself into the air, Then, at once it takes off in a flash.
The Bumble Bee:
A Bumble Beer, if dropped into an open tumbler, will be there until it dies, unless it is taken out. It never sees the means of escape at the top, but persists in trying to find some way out through the sides near the bottom. It will seek a way where none exists, until it completely destroys itself.
People: In many ways we are like the Buzzard, the Bat, and the Bumble Bee. We struggle about with all our problems and frustrations; never realizing that all we have to do is look up.
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From Feedblitz – Faster, Faster!
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From Tom Sokolowski – Irish Confessional
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An Irishman goes into the confessional box after years of being away from the Church.
There's a fully equipped bar with Guinness on tap. On the other wall is a dazzling array of the finest cigars and chocolates.
Then the priest comes in.
"Father, forgive me, for it's been a very long time since I've been to confession, but I must first admit that the confessional box is much more inviting than it used to be."
The priest replies: "Get out. You're on my side."
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From Cousin Gaylannie – Signs of the Times
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From Tom Sokolowski – Kicked Out of Bio Class
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Kicked Out Of Biology Class...
I always tried hard in school, but I did not do well in Biology.
In biology class, we were asked what are two things commonly found in cells.
Apparently, African Americans and Mexicans was not the correct answer.
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From Denny Adams – PC Lament – apologies to Edgar Allen Poe
From Denny Adams – PC Lament – apologies to Edgar Allen Poe
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Once upon a midnight dreary,
Once upon a midnight dreary,
fingers cramped and vision bleary,
system manuals piled high
and wasted paper on the floor,
longing for the warmth of bedsheets,
still I sat there doing spreadsheets,
and having reached the bottom line
I took a floppy from the drawer.
Typing with a steady hand,
then, invoked the “save” command,
but, I got a reprimand…
“abort, retry, ignore.”
Was this some occult illusion?
some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices Solomon
himself had never faced before.
Carefully I weighed my options.
These three seemed to be the top ones.
Clearly I must now adopt one…
Choose abort, retry, ignore.
With my fingers pale and trembling,
slowly toward the keyboard bending,
longing for a happy ending,
hoping all would be restored,
praying for some guarantee,
finally I pressed a key.
But on the screen what did I see?
Again, “abort, retry, ignore.”
I tried to catch the chips off guard.
I pressed again but twice as hard.
But luck was just not in the cards,
I saw what I had seen before.
Now, I typed in desperation,
trying random combinations.
Still, there came the incantation,
“Choose abort, retry, ignore.”
There I sat, distraught, exhausted,
by my own machine accosted.
Getting up so greatly frosted –
paced across the office floor.
And then I saw an awful sight,
a bold and blinding flash of light,
a lightening bolt had cut the night
and shook me to my very core.
Then the screen collapses and died.
“Oh no, my data base!” I cried.
Then, I thought a voice replied,
“You’ll see your data never more.”
To this day I do not know,
the place to which lost data go.
Perhaps to heaven, even so,
by the angels, all in store.
But as for productivity, well,
I fear that it goes straight to hell.
And that’s the tale I have to tell,
your choice…
“abort, retry, ignore.”
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From Sokolowski – Wife Asks Husband …
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Wife asks husband, "How many women have you slept with?"
Husband proudly replies, "Only you, Darling - With all the others, I was awake."
Hospital Visiting Hours are 10 am to 4 PM
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From Frnk Ingrassia – BP: Some Coffee Spills
From Frnk Ingrassia – BP: Some Coffee Spills
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From Barbara Rosenberg – Bitches ‘til the End
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Bitches 'til the End!
(Man, I'll tell ya, women can be cold until the end!)
The doctor, after an examination, sighed and said, 'I've got some bad news. You have cancer, and you'd best put your affairs in order.'
The woman was shocked, but managed to compose herself and walk into the waiting room where her daughter had been waiting.
'Well, daughter, we women celebrate when things are good, and we celebrate when things don't go so well. In this case, things aren't well. I have cancer. So, let's head to the club and have a martini.'
After 3 or 4 martinis, the two were feeling a little less somber. There were some laughs and more martinis.
They were eventually approached by some of the woman's old friends, who were curious as to what the two were celebrating. The woman told her friends they were drinking to her impending end, 'I've been diagnosed with AIDS.'
The friends were aghast, gave the woman their condolences and beat a hasty retreat.
After the friends left, the woman's daughter leaned over and whispered, 'Momma, I thought you said you were dying of cancer, and you just told your friends you were dying of AIDS! Why did you do that?'
'Because I don't want any of those bitches sleeping with your father after I'm gone.'
And THAT, my friends, is what is called,
'Putting Your Affairs In Order.'
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