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May 21, 2012


The blog princess is having the Mother of All Frustrating and Confusicating Days.

Will resume normal programming once the sense of humor failure is dealt with.

Posted by Cassandra at May 21, 2012 01:33 PM

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Posted by: MikeD at May 21, 2012 03:07 PM

The bartender cuts off a customer, telling him he's too drunk. The customer insists, "Barkeep, I'm not drunk. Why, I can see that one-eyed cat coming in the door over there."

The bartender answers, "Sir, that proves you're too drunk. That's a two-eyed cat going out the door."
A skeleton walks into a bar and orders a beer and a mop.

Eric Hines

Posted by: E Hines at May 21, 2012 03:36 PM

Amateur hour?

A couple of good old Alabama boys are sitting around talking about the world over a couple of fishing rods and few beers from the ice chest.

"Bubba," says the first one, "I've got a question for you."

"What's that, Earl?" asks Bubba.

"Which one do you think is farther," asks Earl. "Florida, or the moon?"

"That ain't no kind of question, Earl," says Bubba. "Can you SEE Florida?"

Posted by: Grim at May 21, 2012 04:04 PM

A follow-on to the recent snail mail.

Posted by: DL Sly at May 21, 2012 04:13 PM

Grim, I heard a different Earl and Bubba joke. It seems they were at a Georgia game, and Bubba spots Uga on the sidelines "cleaning" himself. Bubba points it out to Earl and says, "Hey Earl, don't you wish YOU could do that?"
Earl responds, "Bubba... that dawg would BITE yew!"

Posted by: MikeD at May 21, 2012 05:40 PM

Yeah, that's an old one from the late, great Lewis Grizzard.

Here's another good joke, from my wild uncle Bill, an American who's spent some years up Yellowknife way:

A Marine Corps general and his Sergeant Major decide to treat themselves to a hot, wet shave from a professional barber. The old man steams their cheeks with hot towels, puts aromatic oils and shaving cream on them, and then scrapes them clear with a straight razor. It takes a while, but when he's done it's the best shave they've ever had in their lives.

The old man then gets some aftershave and splashes it on his hands. He approaches the General, who coils back in the chair. "Don't slap that stuff on me!" he says to the barber. "My wife will think I've been in a whorehouse!"

The barber looks shocked, and casts his eyes on the Sergeant Major. The Sergeant Major says, "Go ahead and slap it on me, son. My wife doesn't know what the inside of a whorehouse smells like."

Posted by: Grim at May 21, 2012 05:51 PM

Thanks for the jokes (and cat picture :), guys.

I am going to bed early.

Posted by: Cassandra at May 21, 2012 06:55 PM

Here's to you feeling better Cass

Bill from CyberSpace

Posted by: Bill Brandt at May 22, 2012 12:10 AM

Late to the party as usual, but I think a nice camping trip will help restore your sense of proportion. Herewith, some helpful hints to make your stay in Teh Great Outdoorsey more enjoyable...

Get even with the bear who raided your food
bag by kicking his favorite stump apart and
eating all the ants.

A hot rock placed in your sleeping bag will
keep your feet warm. A hot enchilada works
almost as well, but the cheese sticks between
your toes.

The best backpacks are named for national
parks or mountain ranges. Steer clear of those
named for landfills.

While the Swiss Army Knife has been popular for
years, the Swiss Navy Knife has remained largely
unheralded. Its single blade functions as a tiny
canoe paddle.

Modern rain suits made of fabrics that "breathe"
enable campers to stay dry in a downpour. Rain
suits that sneeze, cough, and belch, however,
have been proven to add absolutely nothing to
the wilderness experience.

Lint from your navel makes a handy fire starter.
Warning: Remove lint from navel before
applying the match.

You can duplicate the warmth of a down-filled
bedroll by climbing into a plastic garbage bag
with several geese.

The canoe paddle, a simple device used to
propel a boat, should never be confused with
a gnu paddle, a similar device used by Tibetan

A two-man pup tent does not include two men
or a pup...

Posted by: BillT at May 22, 2012 06:12 AM

Heh :)

No matter what insanity is being inflicted upon my bulging Inbox, you guys never fail to make me laugh and restore my badly wounded sense of the absurd.


Posted by: Cassandra at May 22, 2012 11:20 AM

I can't tell jokes very well. Actually, it's not the jokes themselves, I can tell a story. It's the punchlines that I can't seem to deliver in a manner that gets a laugh from the listener. They either acknowledge my failure with a pitying half-smile, or just stare... waiting... for the funny part that has either already come and gone, or (more likely) never arrived at all. It's all about the timing, and no matter how funny the joke was when I first heard it, by the time I get done retelling it you'll have looked at your watch a few times.
Now, one doesn't become the world's worst teller of jokes without at least some insight into how this distinction is merited, and I'm fairly certain that I've identified the so-called "problem" with my delivery, but it doesn't appear curable.
First, I only have a one-joke memory. The only joke I know is the one that I heard last, and I'll forget that one as soon as I hear the next one. This means that I frequently know only really bad jokes, which I then tell particularly badly.
Second, I remember jokes as though they were "facts." "Two ducks walk into a bar." Fact. "First duck says "Give me a beer and two straws." Fact. Bartender asks second duck what he'll have. Fact. Second ducks says "Ouch!" Fact. The bartender replies "Ouch? What's that?" Fact. The second duck says "Well what do you say what you say when you walk into a bar!" Fact. In this joke (which I created for illustration purposes only), the second duck had apparently injured itself when it "walked into a bar." This last fact is the purportedly the humorous one, and that it is not is also a fact. It is possible that any humor escapes the the bartender and first duck as well, but this is speculation and cannot be determined from the facts presented.

Nevertheless, much like my skill at playing basketball, my sheer inability to tell a funny joke is a great source of entertainment for my children. "Watch my dad try to dribble" easily segues into "Watch my dad try to tell a joke." But, like the second duck, any such efforts generally result in some personal injury. Fact.

Posted by: spd rdr at May 22, 2012 02:02 PM

First, I only have a one-joke memory. The only joke I know is the one that I heard last, and I'll forget that one as soon as I hear the next one. This means that I frequently know only really bad jokes, which I then tell particularly badly.

I could totally have written that :p

I can only remember a very few jokes. One is that bulldog joke that MikeD alluded to earlier (That dog would biiiiiiiiiiiht you!), one is a Piggly Wiggly joke, the punchline of which is, "That's OK - the Piggly Wiggly won't let us back in, either", and the other I have forgotten...

Posted by: Cassandra at May 22, 2012 03:22 PM

"Two lawyers walk into a bar..."

Posted by: BillT at May 23, 2012 03:07 AM

An Afghan, an Albanian, an Algerian, an American, an Andorran, an Angolan, an Anguillan, an Antiguan, an Argentine, an Armenian, an Australian, an Austrian, an Azerbaijani, a Bahaman, a Bahraini, a Bangladeshi, a Barbadan, a Barbudan, a Belarussian, a Belgian, Belizan, a Benin, a Bhutani, a Bolivian, a Bosnian, a Botswanan, a Brazilian, a Brunei, a Bulgarian, a Burkina Fasan, a Burmese, a Burundi, a Cambodian, a Cameroon, a Canadian, a Cape Verde Islander, a Central African Republican, a Chadian, a Chilean, a Chinese, a Colombian, a Comoro Islander, a Congolese, a Costa Rican, a Croat, a Cuban, a Cypriot, a Czech, a Dane, a Djibouti, a Dominican, a Dutchman, an Ecuadorean, an Egyptian, an El Salvadoran, an Emirati, an Englishman, an Equatorial Guinean, an Eritrean, an Estonia, an Ethiopian, a Fiji Islander, a Filipino, a Finn, a Frenchman, a Gabonese, a Gambian, a Georgian, a German, a Ghanian, a Greek, a Grenadan, a Grenadine Islander, a Guatemalan, a Guinean, a Guyanese, a Haitian, a Honduran, a Hungarian, an Icelander, an Indian, an Indonesian, an Iranian, an Iraqi, an Irishman, an Israeli, an Italian, an Ivory Coaster, a Jamaican, a Japanese, a Jordanian, a Kazakhstani, a Kenyan, a Kiribati Islander, a Kuwaiti, a Kyrgyzstani, a Laotian, a Latvian, a Lebanese, a Lesothan, a Liberian, a Libyan, a Liechtensteiner, a Lithuanian, a Luxembourger, a Macedonian, a Madagascaran, a Malawian, a Malaysian, a Maldive Islander, a Malian, a Maltese, a Marshall Islander, a Mauritanian, a Mauritius Islander, a Mexican, a Micronesian, a Moldovan, a Monacan, a Mongolian, a Moroccan, a Mozambiquan, a Namibian, a Nauruvian, a Nepalese, a New Zealander, a Nicaraguan, a Nigerian, a North Korean, a Norwegian, an Omani, a Pakistani, a Palauan, a Panamanian, a Papuan, a Paraguayan, a Peruvian, a Pole, a Portuguese, a Qatari, a Romanian, a Russian, a Rwandan, a Saint Kitts and Nevian, a Samoan, a San Marinan, a Sao Toméan, a Saudi, a Scotsman, a Senegalese, a Seychelles Islander, a Sierra Leonean, a Singaporese, a Slovakian, a Slovenian, a Solomon Islander, a Somali, a South African, a South Korean, a Spaniard, a Sri Lankan, a Santa Lucian, a Sudanese, a Surinamer, a Swazilander, a Swede, a Swiss, a Syrian, a Taiwanese, a Tajik, a Tanzanian, a Togolese, a Tongan, a Trinidad and Tobagan, a Tunisian, a Turk, a Turkoman, a Tuvalese, a Ukrainian, a Ugandan, a Uruguayan, an Uzbek, a Vanuatu Islander, a Venezuelan, a Vietnamese, a Yemeni, a Yugoslavian, a Zambian, and a Zimbabwean all troop into a fancy restaurant in Baltimore.

(remember, this is a joke)

The maître d' says, "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I must ask you to leave. We admit no one without a Thai..."

Posted by: BillT at May 23, 2012 04:02 AM

I *so* did not see that one coming! :)

Posted by: Cass at May 23, 2012 07:19 AM

This one is probably suited better to text than speech anyway (as it it long).

Back in the days of the Boer War during the reign of King George, the British Army had an intel problem. To extract valuable intelligence from captured enemy soldiers, they had a large wooden rack they would use to torture the captive. But the problem was, the rack was very large and heavy (with iron chains and mechanical bits of all sorts as racks are wont to have). And thus, it was immobile. And given that battles could occur anywhere, the rack was rarely in place to be available for the intel gathered through it to be timely. Often, by the time a captive was taken, brought behind the lines, put on the rack, and the information was extracted, the data was so old as to be completely useless.

So a bright young British Leftenant (we shall call him Nigel, as that was his name) suggested, "Why not mount the rack on wheels, so that we may bring the rack to the battlefield and thus extract the data on site." All the higher ranking staff officers considered this and agreed that this was a wise plan.

But there was still a problem. The rack, you see, was SO very large that even a full team of horses could not pull it. But it so happens that Leftenant Nigel had served in India. And he told the staff officers that during his time in India, he had seen elephants perform prodigious feats of strength. And he firmly asserted that an elephant would surely have no difficulties pulling the rack. The staff officers agreed that this sounded like a wise plan, and so they filled out their requisition forms to send to India for "Elephant, Indian (1 each)". And in due course of a few months, their Elephant, Indian (1 each) arrived.

But now they had a new problem. For while they could hitch the rack up to their Elephant, Indian (1 each), none of them knew how to make the elephant go. But Leftenant Nigel remembered that during his time in India, mahouts were used to drive the elephants, so perhaps they could requisition one. Well, of course this caused a stir amongst the Quartermasters, as a "mahout" is hardly a proper item to be requisitioned in the British Army! "Perhaps," suggested Leftenant Nigel, "we could requisition an Elephant Engineer and the Quartermaster Corps in India will understand and send a mahout?" Well, the staff thought, that may just work. So they fill out the requisition papers requesting "Engineer, Elephant (1 each)" and wait. In due course of a few months, a mahout does arrive.

So now they put the Engineer, Elephant (1 each) atop their Elephant, Indian (1 each) and harness it to their Rack, Heavy Wooden (1 each... you get the idea). Lo and behold, the rack moves! So now they just need wait for the next battle.

However, a NEW problem arises. It seems the Inspector General has seen all these requests for equipment and personnel from India and wants to know what the devil is going on. "What the devil is going on," quoth he. The staff officers explain that if he will simply accompany them to the next battle, all will be duly explained. So they wait.

And in due course, a battle occurs. The staff officers ride to the site and off the rack goes. The officers, Inspector General, and Leftenant Nigel all arrive on site before the rack (as it still is slow) and position themselves in an excellent position to view the entire battlefield. The British Army is well ordered and organized, standing in ranks... a veritable paragon of British military efficiency. The ravening Boer hordes charging at them, quite a scene. When over the crest of the ridge, what should appear but the elephant drawn rack. And it crests the ridge. The mahout urging the elephant on. The elephant straining against the weight of the rack. They start to come down the hill. The mahout urging the elephant on. The elephant picking up speed. The rack picking up MORE speed...

And the inevitable occurs. The rack overtakes the elephant. They become entangled. They begin to roll! Down the ridge... through the British lines... CRASH! Right into the enemy lines!

"What is the meaning of this catastophe?" roars the Inspector General. "What WAS that... THING?"

The general staff officers quake in their boots, all afraid to admit their role in this disaster. When bright, young Leftenant Nigel speaks up and says...

"Why sir, that's a rambling rack from George's attack, and an elephant engineer."

You may all stone me now.

Posted by: MikeD at May 23, 2012 12:09 PM

You deserve to be stoned, sirrah!

"George's attack," indeed! The monarchs during the Boer Set-to were Queen Vickie (until 1901) and Eddie-the-Seventh (picked up where mum left off and finished the job in 1902).

Now hie thee hence and concoct a new punchline.

Posted by: BillT at May 24, 2012 10:59 AM

It's not my joke, and it wouldn't exactly work with "A rambling rack from George's grandaughter's attack" now would it? Creative license my lad, creative license.

Posted by: MikeD at May 25, 2012 12:28 PM