SMS and Jokes

Deep Thoughts (Jokes)

The statement below is true. The statement above is false.

Gargling is a good way to see if your throat leaks.

Remember: First you pillage, THEN you burn.

The next time you feel like complaining remember: Your garbage disposal probably eats better than thirty percent of the people in this world.

Life... I am five feet, three inches tall and pleasingly plump. After I had a minor accident, my mother accompanied me to the emergency room. The ER nurse asked for my height and weight, and I blurted out, "Five-foot-eight, 125 pounds." While the nurse pondered over this information, my mother leaned over to me. "Sweetheart," she gently chided, "this is not a chat room on the Internet."

Dictionary of New Slang.-Part 2 One in the departure lounge - to need to defecate imminently. Abra-Kebabra: A magic act performed on Saturday night, where fast food vanishes down the performer's throat, and then shortly afterwards, it suddenly reappears on the taxi floor. Aeroplane skirt - a skirt with a very long slit up it that goes all the way up to the 'cockpit'. Beaver Leaver: or Vagina Decliner. A homosexual. BVH:Blue-Veined Hooligan. The 1-eyed skinhead. BOBFOC: Body Off Baywatch, Face Off Crimewatch. Bone of Contention: A hard-on that causes an argument. e.g. one that arises when a man is watching Olympic beach volleyball on TV with his girlfriend. Britney Spears - Modern Rhyming Slang for 'beers'. e.g. "Give us a couple of Britney's will ya Doreen". Bum Gravy - This one speaks for itself ! You may get this after a dodgy curry. Bunny boiler - an unhinged and overly possessive woman. From the rabbit boiling scene in the film "Fatal Attraction". e.g. "I don't like the look of her mate, could be a bunny boiler". Cider Visor: Beer Goggles for the young drinker. Cliterature: 1-handed reading material. Cock-A-Doodle-Poo: The bowel movement that, needing to come out urgently, wakes you up in the morning to get to the toilet quick Council gritter - Modern Rhyming Slang for 'shitter'. e.g. "Does she take it up the council?". Crappuccino: The particularly frothy type of diarrhoea that you get when abroad. Donald Trump - Modern Rhyming Slang for 'dump' (defecate). e.g. "I'm just nipping out for a Donald". Drink-link - a modern term for a cashpoint machine (ATM). Named so because it is common to visit one before going out on the booze ! Flogging On: Surfing the Internet for some left-handed websites. FuckShitFuckShitFuckShit: The sound made when driving through too narrow a gap at too high a speed. Furry monkey - slang term for vagina. As used by Daisy Donovan on Channel 4's Eleven O'Clock Show Jackson Pollock(s) - Modern Rhyming Slang for 'bollocks' (testicles). e.g."He needs a good kick in the Jackson's". Johnny-no-stars - a young man of substandard intelligence, i.e. the typical adolescent who works in a burger restaurant. The 'no-stars' bit comes from the badges displaying stars that staff at fast-food restaurants often wear which show their level of training. McSplurry: The type of bowel movement you experience after dining for a week in fast food restaurants. Nelson Mandela - Modern Rhyming Slang for 'Stella' (the lager). Pat Cash - Modern Rhyming Slang for 'slash' (to urinate). Porridge wog - a rather un-PC term for a Scottish person. Ragmans coat - untidy and very hairy vagina. e.g. "Yeah, she looks quite fit but I bet she's got one like a ragmans coat !" Release a chocolate hostage - to defecate. Have heard this one from a few people. e.g. " I'm just nipping out to release a chocolate hostage". Skin chimney - excellent (but disgusting of course) term for vagina. Spam fritter - Modern Rhyming Slang for 'shitter' (anus). Similar to "Gary Glitter". Sperm Wail: or Spuphemism. A verbal outburst during the male orgasm. Starfish Trooper: or Arsetronaut. A homosexual. Swamp donkey - an unattractive woman. e.g. "Blimey, have you seen those swamp donkeys sitting in the corner !". Tart fuel - similar to 'bitch piss', bottled alcopop's regularly drank by young women. Tea towel holder - the anus. Derived from the fact that those round plastic holders that you push tea towels into resemble the anus. Wallace and Gromit - Modern Rhyming Slang for 'vomit'. Wigger - a white man who is trying to act like a black man. Especially applied to a white rapper, i.e. Vanilla Ice. X-Piles: Unwanted visitors from Uranus.

Suicide Attempt At the 1994 annual awards dinner given for Forensic Science, AAFS, President Dr. Don Harper Mills astounded his audience with the legal complications of a bizarre death. Here is the story: On March 23,1994 the medical examiner viewed the body of Ronald Opus and concluded that he died from a shotgun wound to the head. Mr. Opus had jumped from the top of a ten story building intending to commit suicide. He left a note to that effect, indicating his despondency. As he fell past the ninth floor his life was interrupted by a shotgun blast passing through a window which killed him instantly. Neither the shooter nor the descender was aware that a safety net had been installed just below at the eighth floor level to protect some building workers and that Ronald Opus would not have been able to complete his suicide the way he had planned. "Ordinarily," Dr. Mills continued, "a person who sets out to commit suicide and ultimately succeeds, even though the mechanism might not be what he intended, is still defined as committing suicide." That Mr. Opus was shot on the way to certain death, but probably would not have been successful because of the safety net, caused the medical examiner to feel that he had a homicide on his hands. The room on the ninth floor, whence the shotgun blast emanated, was occupied by an elderly man and his wife. They were arguing vigorously and he was threatening her with a shotgun. The man was so upset that when he pulled the trigger he completely missed his wife and the pellets went through the window, striking Mr. Opus. When one intends to kill subject A but kills subject B in the attempt, one is guilty of the murder of subject B. When confronted with the murder charge the old man and his wife were both adamant. They both said they thought the shotgun was unloaded. Thed old man said it was his long-standing habit to threaten his wife with the unloaded shotgun. He had no intention to murder her. Therefore the killing of Mr. Opus appeared to be an accident; that is, the gun had been accidentally loaded. The continuing investigation turned up a witness who saw the old couple's son loading the shotgun about six weeks prior to the fatal accident. It transpired that the old lady had cut off her son's financial support and the son, knowing the propensity of his father to use the shotgun threateningly, loaded the gun with the expectation that his father would shoot his mother. The case now becomes one of murder on the part of the son for the death of Ronald Opus. Now comes the exquisite twist. Further investigation revealed that the son was, in fact, Ronald Opus. He had become increasingly despondent over the failure of his attempt to engineer his mother's murder. This led him to jump off the ten story building on March 23rd, only to be killed by a shotgun blast passing through the ninth story window. The son had actually murdered himself so the medical examiner closed the case as a suicide.

A man wrote a letter to a small hotel in a Midwest town, which he planned to visit on his vacation. He wrote, "I would very much like to bring my dog with me. He is well groomed and very well behaved. Would you be willing to permit me to keep him in my room with me at night?" An immediate reply came from the hotel owner, who said, "I've been operating this hotel for many years. In all that time, I've never had a dog steal towels, bedclothes, silverware or pictures off the walls. I've never had to evict a dog in the middle of the night for being drunk and disorderly. And I've never had a dog run out on a hotel bill. Yes, indeed, your dog is welcome at my hotel, and if your dog will vouch for you, you're welcome to stay here, too!"

A poker hand "A royal fuck" Denial "I didn't fucking do it" Perplexity "I know fuck all about it" Apathy "Who gives a fuck?" Resignation "Oh fuck it" Suspicion "Who the fuck are you" Panic "Lets get the fuck out of here" Directions "Fuck off" Maternal "Motherfucker" Incestuous "Motherfucker" Ambiguity "I'm not so fucking sure" And, never forget the words of these famous people: General Custer Where did all them fucking Indians come from?" Mayor of Hiroshima What the fuck was that?" Captain of the Titanic Where's all the fucking water coming from? Michelangelo You want me to paint what on the fucking ceiling? Einstein Any fucker could understand that Sean Penn Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck John Lennon Is that a real fucking gun Donald Campbell The fucking throttle is stuck Anne Boleyn Heads are going to fucking roll Richard Nixon Who's going to fucking know? Niki Lauda I thought I could fucking smell petrol Mark Thatcher What fucking map? Picasso It does so fucking look like her Christopher Columbus Where the fuck are we? Michael Jackson It's a fucking skin condition Pythagarus How the fuck did you work that one out? Walt Disney Fuck a duck Joan of Arc I don't suppose it will fucking rain Miss Marples I haven't got a fucking clue Noah Scattered showers, my fucking arse The mind boggles at the many creative uses of the word. How can anyone be offended when you say "FUCK". Use it frequently in your daily speech, you will be proud and it will add to your fucking prestige and stature. Why not say "FUCK YOU !" to someone today! A friend of mine assures me that he overheard this sentence uttered by an Irishman trying to get some fags out of a machine in a pub.... "The fucking fucker's fucking fucked." Such economy of language and admirable use of the word as adjective, noun, adverb and verb.

IF AIRLINES SOLD PAINT . . . Customer: Hi. How much is your paint? Clerk: Well, sir, that all depends on quite a lot of things. Customer: Can you give me a guess? Is there an average price? Clerk: Our lowest price is $12 a gallon, and we have 60 different prices up to $200 a gallon. Customer: What's the difference in the paint? Clerk: Oh, there isn't any difference; it's all the same paint. Customer: Well, then I'd like some of that $12 paint. Clerk: When do you intend to use the paint? Customer: I want to paint tomorrow. It's my day off. Clerk: Sir, the paint for tomorrow is the $200 paint. Customer: When would I have to paint to get the $12 paint? Clerk: You would have to start very late at night in about 3 weeks. But you will have to agree to start painting before Friday of that week and continue painting until at least Sunday. Customer: You've got to be fucking kidding! Clerk: I'll check and see if we have any paint available. Customer: You have shelves FULL of paint! I can see it! Clerk: But it doesn't mean that we have paint available. We sell only a certain number of gallons on any given weekend. Oh, and by the way, the price per gallon just went to $16. We don't have any more $12 paint. Customer: The price went up as we were talking? Clerk: Yes, sir. We change the prices and rules hundreds of times a day, and since you haven't actually walked out of the store with your paint yet, we just decided to change. I suggest you purchase your paint as soon as possible. How many gallons do you want? Customer: Well, maybe five gallons. Make that six, so I'll have enough. Clerk: Oh no, sir, you can't do that. If you buy paint and don't use it, there are penalties and possible confiscation of the paint you already have. Customer: WHAT? Clerk: We can sell enough paint to do your kitchen, bathroom, hall and north bedroom, but if you stop painting before you do the bedroom, you will lose your remaining gallons of paint. Customer: What does it matter whether I use all the paint? I already paid you for it! Clerk: We make plans based upon the idea that all our paint is used, every drop. If you don't, it causes us all sorts of problems. Customer: This is crazy!! I suppose something terrible happens if I don't keep painting until after Saturday night! Clerk: Oh yes! Every gallon you bought automatically becomes the $200 paint. Customer: But what are all these, "Paint on sale from $10 a liter" signs? Clerk: Well that's for our budget paint. It only comes in half-gallons. One $5 half-gallon will do half a room. The second half-gallon to complete the room is $20. None of the cans have labels, some are empty and there are no refunds, even on the empty cans. Customer: To hell with this! I'll buy what I need somewhere else! Clerk: I don't think so, sir. You may be able to buy paint for your bathroom and bedrooms, and your kitchen and dining room from someone else, but you won't be able to paint your connecting hall and stairway from anyone but us. And I should point out, sir, that if you paint in only one direction, it will be $300 a gallon. Customer: I thought your most expensive paint was $200! Clerk: That's if you paint around the room to the point at which you started. A hallway is different. Customer: And if I buy $200 paint for the hall, but only paint in one direction, you'll confiscate the remaining paint. Clerk: No, we'll charge you an extra use fee plus the difference on your next gallon of paint. But I believe you're getting it now, sir. Customer: You're insane! Clerk: Thanks for painting with United.

The following is taken from a Florida newspaper: A man was working on his motorcycle on his patio and his wife was in the house in the kitchen. The man was racing the engine on the motorcycle and somehow, the motorcycle slipped into gear. The man, still holding the handlebars, was dragged through a glass patio door and along with the motorcycle dumped onto the floor inside the house. The wife, hearing the crash, ran into the dining room, and found her husband laying on the floor, cut and bleeding, the motorcycle laying next to him and the patio door shattered. The wife ran to the phone and summoned an ambulance. Because they lived on a fairly large hill, the wife went down the several flights of long steps to the street to direct the paramedics to her husband. After the ambulance arrived and transported the husband to the hospital, the wife uprights the motorcycle and pushed it outside. Seeing that gas had spilled on the floor, the wife obtained some papers towels, blotted up the gasoline, and threw the towels in the toilet. The husband was treated at the hospital and was released to come home. After arriving home, he looked at the shattered patio door and the damage done to his motorcycle. He became despondent, went into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and smoked a cigarette. After finishing the cigarette, he flipped it between his legs into the toilet bowl while still seated. The wife, who was in the kitchen, heard a loud explosion and her husband screaming. She ran into the bathroom and found her husband lying on the floor. His trousers had been blown away and he was suffering burns on the buttocks, the back of his legs and his groin. The wife again ran to the phone and called for an ambulance. The same ambulance crew was dispatched and the wife met them at the street. The paramedics loaded the husband on the stretcher and began carrying him to the street. While they were going down the stairs to the street accompanied by the wife, one of the paramedics asked the wife how the husband had burned himself. She told them and the paramedics started laughing so hard, one of them tipped . The stretcher dumped the husband out. He fell down the remaining steps and broke his arm. Now THAT is a bad day...

I read last week how there are more than one hundred thousand battered women in the UK each year. All these years I've been eating them raw.

There's this guy from Kentucky named Roscoe. One day he gets up and hears a voice in his head say: "Quit your job, take your money and go to Las Vegas". Roscoe ignores it. A week later he wakes up, same thing: "Quit your job, take your money and go to Las Vegas." He ignores it again. Then for a week straight, all day and all night, he hears the voice: "Quit your job, take your money and go to Las Vegas." So finally, Roscoe does. As he steps into the Las Vegas Airport, the voice says: "Go to Caesars." When he walks into Caesars, the voice says: "Go to the roulette table." He goes to the roulette table. The voice says "Put all your money on red 23." Roscoe puts all his money on red 23. The dealer spins the wheel. It comes up black 17. The voice says "Fuck."

If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it was, and always will be yours. If it never returns, it was never yours to begin with. If it just sits in your living room, messes up your stuff, eats your food, uses your telephone, takes your money, and never behaves as if you actually set it free in the first place, you either married it or gave birth to it!

Signs You've Chosen A "No Frills" Airline They don't sell tickets, they sell chances. All the insurance machines in the terminal are sold out. Before the flight, the passengers get together and elect a pilot. You cannot board the plane unless you have the exact change. Before you took off, the stewardess tells you to fasten your Velcro. The Captain asks all the passengers to chip in a little for gas. When they pull the steps away, the plane starts rocking. The Captain yells at the ground crew to get the cows off the runway. You ask the Captain how often their planes crash and he says, "Just once." No movie. Don't need one. Your life keeps flashing before your eyes. You see a man with a gun, but he's demanding to be let off the plane. All the planes have both a bathroom and a chapel.

What my mother taught me 1. My Mother taught me about ANTICIPATION... "Just wait until your father gets home." 2. My Mother taught me about RECEIVING.... "You are going to get it when we get home!" 3. My Mother taught me to MEET A CHALLENGE... "What were you thinking? Answer me when I talk to you ... Don't talk back to me!" 4. My Mother taught me LOGIC... "If you fall out off that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me. 5.My Mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE... "If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way." 6. My Mother taught me to THINK AHEAD... "If you don't pass your spelling test, you'll never get a good job. 7. My Mother taught me ESP... "Put your sweater on; don't you think I know when you're cold?" 8. My Mother taught me HUMOR... "When that lawn mower cuts off you toes, don't come running to me." 9. My Mother taught me how to BECOME AN ADULT... "If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up." 10. My Mother taught me about SEX.... "How do you think you got here?" 11. My Mother taught me about GENETICS... "You're just like your father." 12. My Mother taught me about my ROOTS... "Do you think you were born in a barn?" 13. My Mother taught me about WISDOM OF AGE... "When you get to be my age, you will understand. 14. And my all time favorite... JUSTICE... "One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you. ... Then you'll see what its like." 15. My mother taught me / /TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE/..../"If you're going to kill each other, do it outside - I just finished cleaning!" 16. My mother taught me / /RELIGION/....../"You better pray that will come out of the carpet." 17. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL/...../"If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!" 18. My mother taught me FORESIGHT/....../"Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident." 19. My mother taught me IRONY/...../"Keep laughing and I'll give you something to cry about." 20. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS./..../"Shut your mouth and eat your supper!" 21. My mother taught me about / /CONTORTIONISM./..../"Will you look at the dirt on the back of your neck!" 22. My mother taught me about STAMINA/...../"You'll sit there 'til all that spinach is gone." 23. My mother taught me about WEATHER./..../"It looks as if a tornado swept through your room. 24. My mother taught me how to solve / /PHYSICS PROBLEMS./...../"If I yelled because I saw a meteor coming toward you; would you listen then?" 25. My mother taught me about / /HYPOCRISY/...../"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times - Don't exaggerate!!!" 26. My mother taught me / /THE CIRCLE OF LIFE/...../"I brought you into this world, and I can take you out." 27. My mother taught me about / /BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION./.../"Stop acting like your father!" 28. My mother taught me about / /ENVY./...../"There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do!"

"Microsoft Announcement!" RE: "Geordie Version Of Windows 98" It has come to our attention that a few copies of the Geordie version of Windows 98 may have accidentally been shipped outside of Newcastle. If you have one of the Newcastle editions you may need some help understanding the commands. The Newcastle edition may be recognised by looking at the loading screen. It reads Windiz 98 with a background picture of a Brown Ale bottle superimposed on a photograph of the Tyne Bridge. It is shipped with the Brown Ale screen saver. Also note: The Recycle Bin is labelled 'Aal ya shite' Dial-upNetworking is called 'Me mates' Control Panel is known as 'How te fuck aboot wi the settins' The Hard Drive is referred to as 'Big disk' Floppies are known as 'Them litil plastic bastads' Other Features: OK = it's alreet, cancel = fuck that, yes = aye, no= nee fuckin' chance, find = gan gerit ya fucking sel', goto = owa there help = ah cannit dee it, stop = divvent move, start = hadaway and shite, settings = settins, programs = stuff that dis stuff personal folder = me shite Also note that Windiz 98 does not recognise capital letters or punctuation marks. Some programs that are exclusive to Windiz 98: tiperiter = a word processor, cullarin book = a graphics package, addin masheen = calculator, tunes = CD player, porn = Microsoft Internet Explorer, pikchas = a graphics viewer, dole money = accounting software, Toon = a spreadsheet of Newcastle United FC's recent scores, bevvy = local off-licences by area code and price of Brown Ale. tax records = usually an empty file, Kappa tracksuit inventory = usually a 5 meg file We regret any inconvenience it may cause if you received a copy of the Newcastle edition. You may return it to Microsoft for a replacement version.

One sunny morning around Easter a rabbit came out of her hole in the ground to enjoy the fine weather. The day was so nice that she became careless and a fox sneaked up behind her and caught her. "I am going to eat ye for lunch!", said the fox. "Wait!", replied the rabbit, "You should at least wait a few days." "Oh yeah? Why should I wait?" "Well, I am just finishing my postgraduate thesis on 'The Superiority of Rabbits over Foxes and Wolves'." "Are ye crazy? I should eat ye right now! Everybody knows that a fox will always win over a rabbit." "Not really, not according to my research. If you like, you can come into my hole and read it for yourself. Then, if you're not convinced, you can go ahead and have me for lunch." "Ye really are a daft eejit!" But since the fox was curious and had nothing to lose, it went with the rabbit. The fox never came out. A few days later the rabbit was again taking a break from writing and sure enough, a big huge horrible wolf came out of the bushes and was ready to set upon her. "Wait!" yelled the rabbit, "you can't eat me right now." "And why might that be, my furry appetiser?" "I am almost finished writing my postgrad thesis on 'The Superiority of Rabbits over Foxes and Wolves'." The wolf laughed so hard that he almost lost his grip on the rabbit. "Maybe I shouldn't eat you. You really are sick... in the head. You might have something contagious." "Come and read it for yourself. Then you can eat me afterward if you disagree with my conclusions. You can't say fairer than that..." So the wolf went down into the rabbit's hole... and never came out. The rabbit finished her thesis and was out celebrating in the local lettuce patch. Another rabbit came along and asked, "What's up? Ye seem fierce happy." "Yup, I just finished me thesis." "Congratulations. What's it about?" "'The Superiority of Rabbits over Foxes and Wolves'." "Are ye sure? That doesn't sound right." "Oh yes. Come and read it for yourself." So together they went down into the rabbit's hole. As they entered, the friend saw the typical graduate student abode, albeit a rather messy one after writing a big long thesis. The PC with the controversial work was sitting in one corner. To the right there was a pile of fox bones, to the left a pile of wolf bones. And in the middle was this large, very well fed lion. The moral of the story: The title of your thesis doesn't matter. The subject don't matter. And the research don't matter either. All that matters is who your advisor is.

Meaningful Descriptions The plan was simple, like my brother Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while. "Oh, Jason, take me!" she panted, her breasts heaving like a student on 31p-a-pint night. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something. Her artistic sense was exquisitely refined, like someone who can tell butter from "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter." She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up. It came down the stairs looking very much like something no one had ever seen before. The knife was as sharp as the tone used by Glenda Jackson MP in her first several points of parliamentary procedure made to Robin Cook MP, Leader of the House of Commons, in the House Judiciary Committee hearings on the suspension of Keith Vaz MP. The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slenderleg behind her, like a dog at a lamppost. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free cashpoint. The dandelion swayed in the gentle breeze like an oscillating electric fan set on medium. It was a working class tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with their power tools. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a dustcart reversing. She was as easy as the Daily Star crossword. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room temperature British beef. She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs. Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a first-generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened. It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a tumble dryer. She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't. McMurphy fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a paper bag filled with vegetable soup. Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze. Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever. He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left York at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Peterborough at 4:19p.m. at a speed of 35 mph. The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the full stop after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met. The thunder was ominous sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play. The red brick wall was the colour of a brick-red crayon. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut. The door had been forced, as forced as the dialogue during the interview portion of Family Fortunes. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do

A Completely Factual Guide for Americans Visiting Britain / Vocabulary/ The Brits have peculiar words for many things. Money is referred to as "goolies" in slang, so you should for instance say "I'd love to come to the pub but I haven't got any goolies." "Quid" is the modern word for what was once called a "shilling" -- the equivalent of seventeen cents American. Underpants are called "wellies" and friends are called "tossers." If you are fond of someone, you should tell him he is a "great tosser" -- he will be touched. The English are a notoriously demonstrative, tactile people, and if you want to fit in you should hold hands with your acquaintances and tossers when you walk down the street. Public nuzzling and licking are also encouraged, but only between people of the same sex. / Habits/ Ever since their government wholeheartedly embraced full union with Europe, the Brits have been attempting to adopt certain continental customs, such as the large midday meal followed by a two- or three-hour siesta, which they call a "wank." As this is still a fairly new practice in Britain, it is not uncommon for people to oversleep (alarm clocks, alas, do not work there due to the magnetic pull from Greenwich). If you are late for supper, simply apologize and explain that you were having a wank -- everyone will understand and forgive you. / Universities/ University archives and manuscript collections are still governed by quaint medieval rules retained out of respect for tradition; hence patrons are expected to bring to the reading rooms their own ink-pots and a small knife for sharpening their pens. Observing these customs will signal the librarians that you are "in the know" -- one of the inner circle, as it were, for the rules are unwritten and not posted anywhere in the library. Likewise, it is customary to kiss the librarian on both cheeks when he brings a manuscript you've requested, a practice dating back to the reign of Henry VI. One of the most delightful ways to spend an afternoon in Oxford or Cambridge is gliding gently down the river in one of their flat- bottomed boats, which you propel using a long pole. This is known as "cottaging." Many of the boats (called "yer-I-nals") are privately owned by the colleges, but there are some places that rent them to the public by the hour. Just tell a professor or policeman that you are interested in doing some cottaging and would like to know where the public yerinals are. The poles must be treated with vegetable oil to protect them from the water, so it's a good idea to buy a can of Crisco and have it on you when you ask directions to the yerinals. That way people will know you are an experienced cottager. / Food/ British cuisine enjoys a well deserved reputation as the most sublime gastronomic pleasure available to man. Thanks to today's robust dollar, the American traveller can easily afford to dine out several times a week (rest assured that a British meal is worth interrupting your afternoon wank for). Few foreigners are aware that there are several grades of meat in the UK. The best cuts of meat, like the best bottles of gin, bear Her Majesty's seal, called the British Stamp of Excellence (BSE). When you go to a fine restaurant, tell your waiter you want beef and won't settle for anything less. If he balks at your request, custom dictates that you jerk your head imperiously back and forth while rolling your eyes to show him who is boss. Once the waiter realizes you are a person of discriminating taste, he may offer to let you peruse the restaurant's list of exquisite British wines. If he doesn't, you should order one anyway. The best wine grapes grow on the steep, chalky hillsides of Yorkshire and East Anglia -- try an Ely '84 or Ripon '88 for a rare treat indeed. When the bill for your meal comes it will show a suggested amount. Pay whatever you think is fair, unless you plan to dine there again, in which case you should simply walk out; the restaurant host will understand that he should run a tab for you. / Transportation/ Public taxis are subsidized by the Her Majesty's Government. A taxi ride in London costs two pounds, no matter how far you travel. If a taxi driver tries to overcharge you, you should yell "I think not, you charlatan!", then grab the nearest bobby and have the driver arrested. It is rarely necessary to take a taxi, though, since bus drivers are required to make detours at patrons' requests. Just board any bus, pay your fare of thruppence (the heavy gold-colored coins are "pence"), and state your destination clearly to the driver, e.g.: "Please take me to the British Library." A driver will frequently try to have a bit of harmless fun by pretending he doesn't go to your requested destination. Ignore him, as he is only teasing the American tourist (little does he know you're not so ignorant!). Speaking of the British Library, you should know that it has recently moved to a new location at Kew. Kew is a small fishing village in Wales. It can be reached by taking the train to Cardiff; once there, ask any local about the complimentary shuttle bus to Kew. (Don't forget that buses are called "prams" in England, and trains are called "bumbershoots"--it's a little confusing at first. Motorcycles are called "lorries" and the hospital, for reasons unknown, is called the "off-license." It's also very important to know that a "doctor" only means a PhD in England, not a physician. If you want a physician, you must ask for an "MP" (which stands for "master physician").) For those travelling on a shoestring budget, the London Tube may be the most economical way to get about, especially if you are a woman. Chivalry is alive and well in Britain, and ladies still travel for free on the Tube. Simply take some tokens from the baskets at the base of the escalators or on the platforms; you will find one near any of the state-sponsored Tube musicians. Once on the platform, though, beware! Approaching trains sometimes disturb the large Gappe bats that roost in the tunnels. The Gappes were smuggled into London in the early 19th century by French saboteurs and have proved impossible to exterminate. The announcement "Mind the Gappe!" is a signal that you should grab your hair and look towards the ceiling. Very few people have ever been killed by Gappes, though, and they are considered only a minor drawback to an otherwise excellent means of transportation. (If you have difficulty locating the Tube station, merely follow the signs that say "Subway" and ask one of the full-time attendants where you can catch the bumbershoot.) One final note: for preferential treatment when you arrive at Heathrow airport, announce that you are a member of Shin Fane (an international Jewish peace organization -- the "shin" stands for "shalom"). As savvy travellers know, this little white lie will assure you priority treatment as you make your way through customs; otherwise you could waste all day in line. You might, in fact, want to ask a customs agent to put a Shin Fane stamp in your passport, as it will expedite things on your return trip. Bollocks to your mum! ("farewell and good health to your family")

A Completely Factual Guide for Americans Visiting France The following advisory for American travellers heading for France was compiled from information provided by the US State Department, the Central Intelligence Agency, the US Chamber of Commerce, the Food and Drug Administration, the Centres for Disease Control, and some very expensive spy satellites that the French don't know about. It is intended as a guide for American travellers only. No guarantee of accuracy is ensured or intended. / General overview/ France is a medium-sized foreign country situated in the continent of Europe. It is an important member of the world community, though not nearly as important as it thinks. It is bounded by Germany, Spain, Switzerland and some smaller nations of no particular consequence and with not very good shopping. France is a very old country with many treasures, such as the Louvre and EuroDisney. Among its contributions to western civilisation are champagne, Camembert cheese and the guillotine. Although France likes to think of itself as a modern nation, air conditioning is little used and it is next to impossible to get decent Mexican food. One continuing exasperation for American visitors is that the people wilfully persist in speaking French, though many will speak English if shouted at. As in any foreign country, watch your change at all times. / The People/ France has a population of 54 million people, most of whom drink and smoke a great deal, drive like lunatics, are dangerously oversexed, and have no concept of standing patiently in line. The French people are in general gloomy, temperamental, proud, arrogant, aloof, and undisciplined; and those are their good points. Most French citizens are Roman Catholic, though you would hardly guess it from their behaviour. Many people are communists, and topless sunbathing is common. Men sometimes have girls' names like Marie, and they kiss each other when they hand out medals. American travellers are advised to travel in groups and to wear baseball caps and colourful trousers for easier mutual recognition. / Safety/ In general, France is a safe destination, though travellers are advised that, from time to time, it is invaded by Germany. By tradition, the French surrender more or less at once and, apart from a temporary shortage of Scotch whisky and increased difficulty in getting baseball scores and stock market prices, life for the visitor generally goes on much as before. A tunnel connecting France to Britain beneath the English Channel has been opened in recent years to make it easier for the Government to flee to London. France is currently hosting the football world cup (no, not the real football). Football in Europe appears to be a game where the object is to trash as many of the local cafes and shops as possible. The winner is the side which collects the most police riot shields. Visitors are advised to avoid the sites where football matches are taking place until the world cup is over. (Please note: we believe that an American team is taking part but they may or may not be playing American rules; supporters will not be subject to the Geneva convention and any injuries suffered are not insured. Oh and trust us, you don't want to know what French hospitals are like) / History/ France was discovered by Charlemagne in the Dark Ages. Other important historical figures are Louis XIV, the Huguenots, Joan of Arc, Jacques Cousteau and Charles de Gaulle, who was President for many years and is now an airport. / Government/ The French form of government is democratic but noisy. Elections are held more or less continuously, and always result in a run-off. For administrative purposes, the country is divided into regions, departments, districts' municipalities, cantons, communes, villages, cafes, booths and floor tiles. Parliament consists of two chambers, the Upper and Lower (though, confusingly, they are both on the ground floor), whose members are either Gaullists or communists, neither of whom is to be trusted, frankly. Parliament's principal preoccupations are setting off atomic bombs in the South Pacific, and acting indignant when anyone complains. According to the most current State Department intelligence, the President now is someone named Jacques. Further information is not available at this time. / Culture/ The French pride themselves on their culture, though it is not easy to see why. All their songs sound the same, and they have hardly ever made a movie that you would want to watch for anything but the nude scenes. And nothing, of course, is more boring than a French novel. / Cuisine/ Let's face it, no matter how much garlic you put on it, a snail is just a slug with a shell on its back. Croissants, on the other hand, are excellent, though it is impossible for most Americans to pronounce this word. In general, travellers are advised to stick to cheeseburgers at leading hotels such as Sheraton and Holiday Inn. / Economy/ France has a large and diversified economy, second only to Germany's in Europe, which is surprising because people hardly work at all. If they are not spending four hours dawdling over lunch, they are on strike and blocking the roads with their lorries and tractors. France's principal exports, in order of importance to the economy, are wine, nuclear weapons, perfume, guided missiles, champagne, high-calibre weaponry, grenade launchers, landmines, tanks, attack aircraft, miscellaneous armaments and cheese. / Public holidays/ France has more holidays than any other nation in the world. Among its 361 national holidays are 197 saints' days, 37 National Liberation Days, 16 Declaration of Republic Days, 54 Return of Charles de Gaulle in Triumph as if he Won the War Single-Handed Days, 18 Napoleon Sent into Exile Days, 17 Napoleon Called Back from Exile Days, and 112 France is Great and the Rest of the World is Rubbish Days. Other important holidays are National Nuclear Bomb Day January 12), the Feast of St Brigitte Bardot Day (March 1), and National Guillotine Day (November 12). / Conclusion/ France enjoys a rich history, a picturesque and varied landscape, and a temperate climate. In short, it would be a very nice country if it weren't inhabited by French people. The best thing that can be said for it is that it is not Germany.

A bus carrying five passengers was hit by a car in St. Louis, but by the time police arrived on the scene, fourteen pedestrians had boarded the bus and had begun to complain of whiplash injuries and back pain.

ANAGRAMS Tony Blair PM - I'm Tory plan B Virginia Bottomley - I'm an evil Tory bigot Michael Heseltine - Elect him, he's alien David Mellor - Dildo marvel The Houses of Parliament - Loonies far up the Thames Rt Hon Margaret Thatcher - Grantham Hatchet Terror Francois Mitterand - Mad strain of cretin Performance related pay - Mere end of year claptrap Dame Agatha Christie - I am a right death case The Metropolitan Police Force - I'm fellatio, the erect porno cop Benson and Hedges - NHS been a godsend Eastenders - Needs a rest Home and Away - Aha... yawn mode Eldorado - Real dodo Selina Scott - Elastic snot Peter Ustinov - Eruptive snot Actors - Scrota Robert DeNiro - Error on bidet Rita Hayworth - Hot hairy wart Sir Alec Guinness - Clearing sinuses Mel Gibson - Big melons Arnold Schwarzenegger - He's grown large 'n' crazed Kylie Minogue - I like 'em young Gloria Estefan - Large fat noise Chris Rea - Rich arse Marti Pellow - Ill tapeworm Madonna, the material girl - Real dim man-eating harlot Ossie Ardiles - Arse is soiled Diego Maradona - O dear, I'm a gonad Martina Navratilova - Variant rival to a man Gabriela Sabatini - Insatiable airbag Irritable Bowel Syndrome - O my terrible drains below Boddington's, the cream of Manchester - Boddington's, stomach ache fermenter Stella Artois, reassuringly expensive - Pint o' lager virtually erases sexiness Pentium Processor - Computerises porn Monica Lewinsky - A lick wins money David Ginola - Vagina dildo George Michael - I come he gargle Motorway Service Station - I eat coronary vomit stews Dormitory - Dirty room Evangelist - Evil's agent Desperation - A rope ends it The Morse Code - Here come dots Slot Machines - Cash lost in 'em Mother-in-law - Woman Hitler Snooze Alarms - Alas, no more Zs Alec Guinness - Genuine Class Semolina - Is no meal The public art galleries - Large picture halls, I bet A decimal point - I'm a dot in place The earthquakes - That queer shake Eleven plus two - Twelve plus one Contradiction - Accord not in it President Clinton of the USA - To copulate, he finds interns This one's truly amazing: To be or not to be: that is the question, whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. - In one of the Bard's best-thought-of tragedies, our insistent hero, Hamlet, queries on two fronts about how life turns rotten.

Of all tales of the supernatural, this one is perhaps the best documented, the most disturbing, and the most difficult to explain... The Princess of Amen-Ra lived some 1,500 years before Christ. When she died she was laid in an ornate wooden coffin and buried deep in a vault at Luxor, on the banks of the Nile. In the late 1890s four rich young Englishmen visiting the excavations at Luxor were invited to buy an exquisitely fashioned mummy case containing the remains of Princess of Amen-Ra. They drew lots. The man who won paid several thousand pounds and had the coffin taken to his hotel. A few hours later he was seen walking out towards the desert. He never returned. The next day, one of the remaining three men was shot by an Egyptian servant accidentally. His arm was so severely wounded it had to be amputated. The 3rd man in the foursome found on his return home that the bank holding his entire savings had failed. The 4th guy suffered a severe illness, lost his job, and was reduced to selling matches in the street. Nevertheless, the coffin reached England (causing other misfortunes along the way), where it was bought by a London businessman. After three of his family members had been injured in a road accident and his house damaged by fire, the businessman donated it to the British Museum. As the coffin was being unloaded from a truck in the museum courtyard, the truck suddenly went into reverse and trapped a passer-by. Then as the casket was being lifted up the stairs by two workmen, one fell and broke his leg. The other, apparently in perfect health, died unaccountably two days later. Once the Princess was installed in the Egyptian Room trouble really started. The night watchmen frequently heard frantic hammering and sobbing from the coffin. Other exhibits in the room were also often hurled about at night. One watchman died on duty causing the other watchmen to want to quit. Cleaners refused to go near the Princess too. When a visitor derisively flicked a dust cloth at the face painted on the coffin his child died of measles soon afterwards. Finally the authorities had the mummy carried down to the basement figuring it could not do any harm down there. Within a week one of the helpers was seriously ill and the supervisor of the move was found dead on his desk. By now, the papers had heard of it. A journalist photographer took a picture of the mummy case and when he developed it the painting on the coffin was of a horrifying human face. The photographer was said to have gone home, locked his bedroom door, and shot himself. Soon afterwards the museum sold the mummy to a private collector. After continual misfortune (and deaths) the owner banished it to the attic. A well known authority on the occult, Madame Helena Blavatsky, visited the premises. Upon entry, she was sized with a shivering fit and searched the house for the source of "an evil influence of incredible intensity." She finally came to the attic and found the mummy case. "Can you exorcise this evil spirit?" asked the owner. "There is no such thing as exorcism. Evil remains evil forever. Nothing can be done about it. I implore you to get rid of this evil as soon as possible." But no British museum would take the mummy; the fact that almost 20 people had met with misfortune, disaster or death from handling the casket in barely 10 years was now well known. Eventually, a hard-headed American archaeologist (who dismissed the happenings as quirks of circumstance) paid a handsome price for the mummy and arranged for its removal to New York. In April 1912 the new owner escorted his treasure aboard a sparkling new White Star liner about to make its maiden voyage to New York. On the night of April 14th, amid scenes of unprecedented horror, the Princess of Amen-Ra accompanied 1500 passengers to their deaths at the bottom of the Atlantic. The name of the ship was Titanic

I am unsure as to the identity of the father of my baby, after all when you eat a tin of beans you can't be sure which one made you fart. I am unsure how it all happened, all I remember is that he was huge and he kept calling me "a lucky lucky bitch".

These statements are allegedly genuine extracts from letters sent to a Local Council by tenants somewhere in the West Midlands, UK: I wish to complain that my father hurt his ankle very badly when he put his feet in the hole in his back passage. The lavatory is blocked, this is caused by the boys next door throwing their balls on the roof. This is to let you know that their is a smell coming from the man next door. The toilet seat is cracked, where do I stand. I am writing on behalf of my sink, which is running away from the wall. I request your permission to remove my drawers in the kitchen. Our lavatory seat is broken in half and is now in three pieces. Can you please tell me when our repairs are going to be done as my wife is about to become an expectant mother. I want some repairs doing to my cooker as it has backfired and burnt my knob off. I am still having trouble with smoke in my built in drawers. The toilet is blocked and we cannot bath the children until it is cleared. The person next door has a large erection in his back garden which is unsightly and dangerous. Will you please send someone to mend our broken path. Yesterday my wife tripped on it and is now pregnant. Our kitchen floor is very damp, we have two children and would like a third, so will you please send someone to do something about it. Will you please send a man to look at my water, it is funny colour and not fit to drink. Would you please send a man to look at my spout, I am an old age pensioner and I need it straight away. I woke this morning and I found my water boiling. This is to let you know that our lavatory seat is broken and we cannot get BBC2. Could you please send someone to fix our bath tap. My wife got her toe stuck in it and it is very uncomfortable for us. I want to complain about the farmer across the road. Every morning at 5.30 his cock wakes me up and it is getting too much. When I applied for a rebate you said that you would have to take something off. Now that you have taken it off, I have been told that you should have put some on. So will you please take off what you took off and put on what you should have put on when you took it off. When the workmen were here they put their tools in my wife's new drawers and made a mess. Please send men with clean tools to finish the job and keep my wife happy.

Thank you for taking the time to fill out this questionnaire. Your answers will be used in market studies that will help McDonnell Douglas serve you better in the future - as well as allowing you to receive mailings and special offers from other companies, governments, extremist groups, and mysterious consortia. As a bonus for responding to this survey, you will be registered to win a brand new F-117A in our Desert Thunder Sweepstakes! Comments or suggestions about our fighter planes? Please write to: McDONNELL DOUGLAS CORPORATION Marketing Department Military Aerospace Division

Remember when eating out was a relaxing experience? Someone else cooked for you, served you and cleaned up after you. All you had to do was chew, swallow and pay. No longer, though. Today, you feel like a laboratory rat who has to struggle through a maze every time it wants a chunk of cheese: "Good evening," the maitre d' said. "Table for four?" "Yes, Thank you." "Smoking or non?" "Non smoking." "Would you prefer to dine indoors or outdoors this evening?" "I guess indoors would be good." "Very well, sir," he said. "Would you like to be seated in the main dining room, the enclosed patio, or our lovely solarium?" "Uh, let me see...uh..." "I can give you a table with a lovely view in our lovely solarium." "I think the solarium would be lovely," I said. We followed him there... "Now, would you prefer a view overlooking the golf course, the sunset on the lake or the majestic mountains to the West?" "Whatever you recommend," I said. Let HIM make a decision for a change, I thought. He sat us by a window facing the golf course, lake or mountains. I couldn't tell which because it was dark outside. Then, a young man, better dressed and better looking than any of us, presented himself at our table... "Good evening, my name is Paul, and I'll be your waiter this evening. Would you like a few minutes before I take your order?" "No," I said. "I'm just a meat-and-potatoes guy, so I'll have the filet mignon and a baked potato." "Soup, or salad?" "Salad." "We have a mixed-green salad, hearts of palm, or a very fine endive salad with baby shrimp." "Just a mixed-green salad, okay?" "Whatever you say, sir. Dressing?" I didn't want to make another decision... "Whatever you've got will be fine." "We have Creamy Italian, Blue Cheese, Vinaigrette, Thousand Island, Honey Dijon and Ranch." "Just bring me one. Surprise me." "Creamy Italian is our house specialty. Would that be all right, sir?" "Yeah." I was curt. I was done with civility. "And for your baked potato?" I knew what was coming! "I just want the baked potato dry, you understand? I don't want anything on it." "No butter? No sour cream?" "No." "No chives? No bacon chips
" "No! Don't you understand English? I don't want anything on it. Just bring me a baked potato and a steak." "Would you prefer the six, eight, or 12-ounce steak, sir?" "Whatever." "Would you like that rare, medium rare, medium, medium well or well done? Or, if you prefer, we can butterfly it for you." "Pauly Boy," I said, "you are really starting to get me steamed." "Which brings up the vegetables, sir. Would you like steamed broccoli, creamed corn, sauteed zucchini, or diced carrots?" That did it. I threw my napkin to the floor, stood up, put my face right in his arrogant kisser and said, "How'd you like to settle this outside?" "Fine with me, sir. Would you prefer the parking lot, the side alley or the street in front of the restaurant?" "I prefer right here." Then I sucker-punched him: he ducked, then countered with a left hook right under my eye. It was the first time all night he hadn't offered me a selection. I collapsed semiconscious into my chair, as someone in authority rushed over and berated Pauly. I felt my tie being loosened, my collar unbuttoned, hands slapping my face. When I regained my senses, I saw the very concerned maitre d' right in front of my nose. He apologized and offered to buy me a drink, call the paramedics, whatever I wanted. "No, no," I said. "I'll be all right. Just bring me a glass of water." "Yes, sir, right away," he said. "Would you prefer imported mineral water, sparkling water, or club soda with a wedge of lime?

How to Write Good - Part 2 1. Verbs has to agree with their subjects. 2. And don't start a sentence with a conjunction. 3. Also too, never, ever use repetitive redundancies. 4. No sentence fragments. 5. Don't use no double negatives. 6. Eliminate commas, that are, not necessary. Parenthetical words however should be enclosed in commas. 7. Never use a big word when a diminutive one would suffice. 8. DO NOT use exclamation points and all caps to emphasize!!! 9. Use words correctly, irregardless of how others use them. 10. Understatement is always the absolute best way to put forth earth shaking ideas. 11. Use the apostrophe in it's proper place and omit it when its not needed. 12. If you've heard it once, you've heard it a thousand times: Resist hyperbole; not one writer in a million can use it correctly. 13. Puns are for children, not groan readers. 14. The passive voice should never be used. 15. Do not put statements in the negative form. 16. A writer must not shift your point of view. 17. Place pronouns as close as possible, especially in long sentences of 10 or more words, to their antecedents. 18. Writing carefully, dangling participles must be avoided. 19. If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is. 20. Take the bull by the hand and avoid mixing metaphors. 21. Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky. 22. Everyone should be careful to use a singular pronoun with singular nouns in their writing. 23. Always pick on the correct idiom. 24. The adverb always follows the verb. 25. Be careful to use the rite homonym. 26. Proofread carefully to see if you any words out.

Fun Things to Do in a Public Toilet 1. Stick your palm open under the stall wall and ask your neighbour, "May I borrow a highlighter?" 2. Say "Uh oh, I knew I shouldn't put my lips on that." 3. Cheer and clap loudly every time somebody breaks the silence with a bodily function noise 4. Say, "Hmmm, I've never seen that color before." 5. Drop a marble and say, "Oh shoot! My glass eye!" 6. Say "Darn, this water is cold." 7. Grunt and strain real loud for 30 seconds and then drop a cantaloupe into the toilet bowl from a high place and sigh relaxingly. 8. Say, "Now how did that get there?" 9. Say, "Humus. Reminds me of humus." 10. Fill up a large flask with Mountain Dew. Squirt it erratically under the stall walls of your neighbors while yelling, "Whoa! Easy boy!!" 11. Say, "Interesting....more sinkers than floaters" 12. Using a small squeeze tube, spread peanut butter on a wad of toilet paper and drop under the stall wall of your neighbor. Then say, "Whoops, could you kick that back over here, please? 13. Say, "C'mon Mr. Happy! Don't fall asleep on me! 14. Say, "Boy, that sure looks like a maggot" 15. Say, "Darn, I knew that drain hole was a little too small. Now what am I gonna do?" 16. Play a well known drum cadence over and oven again on your butt cheeks 17. Before you unroll toilet paper, conspicuously lay down your "Cross-Dressers Anonymous" newsletter on the floor visible to the adjacent stall. 18. Lower a small mirror underneath the stall wall and adjust it so you can see your neighbor and say, "Peek-a-boo!" 19. Drop a D-cup bra on the floor under the stall wall and sing "Born Free."

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19]

Jokes