Last night, my friend and I were sitting in the living room and I said to her, "I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle. If that ever happens, just pull the plug."
She got up, unplugged the TV, and threw out my wine.
She's such a bitch...
Jokes, please.....
Moderator: Moderators
-
englishangel
- Forum Moderator
- Posts: 6956
- Joined: Mon Feb 07, 2005 12:22 pm
- Real Name: Mary Faulkner (Vincett)
- Location: Amersham, Buckinghamshire
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Ajarn Philip
- Button Grecian
- Posts: 1902
- Joined: Sat Jul 14, 2007 7:30 pm
- Real Name: AP
This isn't really a joke, but it's not worth a thread of its own and, although I can't say I agree with all of it, it's mildly amusing, so...
CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL THE KIDS WHO WERE BORN IN THE
1910s, 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s and (early) 70s!!
First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us.
They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a tin, lots of fried food and didn't get tested for diabetes.
Then, after that trauma, our baby cots were covered with bright coloured llead-based paints.
We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes we had no helmets, not to mention the risks we took hitchhiking .
As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags.
Riding in the back of a van - loose - was always great fun.
We drank water from the garden hosepipe and NOT from a bottle.
We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.
We ate cakes, white bread and real butter and drank pop with sugar in it, but we weren't overweight because...
WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!!
We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.
No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O.K.
We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the
bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.
We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, or any video games at all, no 99 channels on cable, no video tape movies, no surround sound, no cell phones, no text messaging, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms..........WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!
We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.
We played with worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.
Made up games with sticks and tennis balls and although we were told it would happen, we did not poke out any eyes.
We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just yelled for them!
Local teams were 'picked' and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!
The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!
These generations produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!
The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.
We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned. . .
HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!
And YOU are one of them!
CONGRATULATIONS!
You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids before the lawyers and the government regulated our lives for our own good.
And while you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave their parents were...
Kind of makes you want to run through the house holding a pair of scissors, doesn't it?
CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL THE KIDS WHO WERE BORN IN THE
1910s, 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s and (early) 70s!!
First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us.
They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a tin, lots of fried food and didn't get tested for diabetes.
Then, after that trauma, our baby cots were covered with bright coloured llead-based paints.
We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes we had no helmets, not to mention the risks we took hitchhiking .
As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags.
Riding in the back of a van - loose - was always great fun.
We drank water from the garden hosepipe and NOT from a bottle.
We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.
We ate cakes, white bread and real butter and drank pop with sugar in it, but we weren't overweight because...
WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!!
We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.
No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O.K.
We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the
bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.
We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, or any video games at all, no 99 channels on cable, no video tape movies, no surround sound, no cell phones, no text messaging, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms..........WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!
We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.
We played with worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.
Made up games with sticks and tennis balls and although we were told it would happen, we did not poke out any eyes.
We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just yelled for them!
Local teams were 'picked' and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!
The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!
These generations produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!
The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.
We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned. . .
HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!
And YOU are one of them!
CONGRATULATIONS!
You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids before the lawyers and the government regulated our lives for our own good.
And while you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave their parents were...
Kind of makes you want to run through the house holding a pair of scissors, doesn't it?
-
jhopgood
- Button Grecian
- Posts: 1884
- Joined: Mon Jun 07, 2004 6:26 pm
- Real Name: John Hopgood
- Location: Benimeli, Alicante
Two Scots, the best man Archie and the groom Jock are sitting in the pub discussing Jock's forthcoming wedding.
"Ach, it's all going to be grand", says Jock. "I've everything organised already, the flowers, the church, the cards, the reception, the rings, the minister, and you've taken care of ma stag night".
Archie nods approvingly.
"Havens, I've even bought a kilt to be married in," continued Jock.
"A kilt?" exclaims Archie, "That's braw; you'll look pure deed smart in that!"
"And what's the tartan?" Archie then enquires.
"Och," says Jock, "I'd imagine she'll be in white..."
"Ach, it's all going to be grand", says Jock. "I've everything organised already, the flowers, the church, the cards, the reception, the rings, the minister, and you've taken care of ma stag night".
Archie nods approvingly.
"Havens, I've even bought a kilt to be married in," continued Jock.
"A kilt?" exclaims Archie, "That's braw; you'll look pure deed smart in that!"
"And what's the tartan?" Archie then enquires.
"Och," says Jock, "I'd imagine she'll be in white..."
Barnes B 25 (59 - 66)
-
J.R.
- Forum Moderator
- Posts: 15835
- Joined: Wed Mar 09, 2005 4:53 pm
- Real Name: John Rutley
- Location: Dorking, Surrey
I love this one. I trust it doesn't offend anyone !
_________________________________
Students were assigned to read 2 books, "Titanic" and "My Life" by Bill Clinton.
One smart ass student turned in the following book report, with the proposition that they were nearly identical stories!
His cool professor gave him an A+ for this report:
Titanic: $29.99
Clinton: $29.99
Titanic: Over 3 hours to read
Clinton: Over 3 hours to read
Titanic: The story of Jack and Rose, their forbidden love, and subsequent catastrophe.
Clinton: The story of Bill and Monica, their forbidden love, and subsequent catastrophe.
Titanic: Jack is a starving artist.
Clinton: Bill is a bullshit artist.
Titanic: In one scene, Jack enjoys a good cigar.
Clinton: Ditto for Bill.
Titanic: During ordeal, Rose's dress gets ruined.
Clinton: Ditto for Monica.
Titanic: Jack teaches Rose to spit.
Clinton: Let's not go there.
Titanic: Rose gets to keep her jewelry.
Clinton: Monica's forced to return her gifts.
Titanic: Rose remembers Jack for the rest of her life.
Clinton: Clinton doesn't remember Jack.
Titanic: Rose goes down on a vessel full of seamen.
Clinton: Monica...ooh, let's not go there, either.
Titanic: Jack surrenders to an icy death.
Clinton: Bill goes home to Hillary...basically the same thing.
_________________________________
Students were assigned to read 2 books, "Titanic" and "My Life" by Bill Clinton.
One smart ass student turned in the following book report, with the proposition that they were nearly identical stories!
His cool professor gave him an A+ for this report:
Titanic: $29.99
Clinton: $29.99
Titanic: Over 3 hours to read
Clinton: Over 3 hours to read
Titanic: The story of Jack and Rose, their forbidden love, and subsequent catastrophe.
Clinton: The story of Bill and Monica, their forbidden love, and subsequent catastrophe.
Titanic: Jack is a starving artist.
Clinton: Bill is a bullshit artist.
Titanic: In one scene, Jack enjoys a good cigar.
Clinton: Ditto for Bill.
Titanic: During ordeal, Rose's dress gets ruined.
Clinton: Ditto for Monica.
Titanic: Jack teaches Rose to spit.
Clinton: Let's not go there.
Titanic: Rose gets to keep her jewelry.
Clinton: Monica's forced to return her gifts.
Titanic: Rose remembers Jack for the rest of her life.
Clinton: Clinton doesn't remember Jack.
Titanic: Rose goes down on a vessel full of seamen.
Clinton: Monica...ooh, let's not go there, either.
Titanic: Jack surrenders to an icy death.
Clinton: Bill goes home to Hillary...basically the same thing.
John Rutley. Prep B & Coleridge B. 1958-1963.
-
Mrs C.
- Button Grecian
- Posts: 2300
- Joined: Wed Feb 16, 2005 2:22 pm
- Real Name: Janet Chandler
- Location: C.H.
While on his walk , Ex Prime Minister Tony Blair falls over, has a heart attack and dies because the accident and emergency ward at his nearest hospital has just been closed. So his soul arrives in Heaven and he is met by Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates.
"Welcome to Heaven," says Saint Peter, "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a politician around these parts, so we're not sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in; I'm a good Christian; I'm a believer," says the ex PM.
"I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from God Himself. He says that since the implementation of his new HEAVEN CHOICES policy, you have to spend one day in Hell and one day in Heaven. Then you must choose where you'll live for eternity."
"But I've already made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven," replies Blair.
"I'm sorry ... but we have our rules and bureaucracy. " Peter interjects. And, with that, St. Peter escorts him to an elevator and he goes down, down, down ... all the way to Hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush golf course.
The sun is shining in a cloudless sky. The temperature is a perfect 21degrees. In the distance is a beautiful club-house. Standing in front of it are MPs from all the years of the Great British democracy. There are luminaries who had helped Blair over the years. The whole set of the Party leaders from the past were there, everyone laughing, happy, and casually but expensively, dressed. They run to greet him, to hug him and to reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at the expense of 'suckers and peasants.' They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar. The Devil himself comes up to Blair with a frosty drink, "Have a tequila and relax, Tony!"
"Uh, I can't drink any more, I took a pledge," says Blair, dejectedly.
"This is Hell, son. You can drink and eat all you want and not worry and it just gets better from there!"
So Tony takes the drink and finds himself liking the Devil, who he thinks is a really very friendly bloke who tells funny jokes like himself and pulls hilarious nasty pranks, like the ones he and Hewitt pulled with the NHS and with Kelly on Education. They are having such a great time that, before he realises it, it's time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves as Blair steps on the elevator and heads upward. When the elevator door reopens, he is in Heaven again and Saint Peter is waiting for him.
"Now it's time to visit Heaven," the old man says, opening the gate.
So for 24 hours Blair is made to hang out with a bunch of honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's company, talk about things other than money and treat each other decently. Not a nasty prank or egotistical remark among them. No fancy country clubs here and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or lobster. Surprisingly these people are all poor. He doesn't see anybody he knows and he isn't even treated like someone special!
"Whoa," he says uncomfortably to himself. "Mandelson never prepared me for this!"
The day done, Saint Peter returns and says, "Well, you've spent a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now you must choose where you want to live for eternity. With the 'Deal or No Deal' theme playing softly in the background, Blair reflects for a minute .. then answers: "Well, I would never have thought I'd say this -- I mean, Heaven has been delightful and all -- but I really think I belong in Hell with my friends."
So Saint Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell. The doors of the elevator open and he is in the middle of a concrete jungle covered with garbage and toxic industrial wasteland, kind of like the eroded, infested areas that Prescott created in the South East housing blight. He is horrified to see all of his friends, dressed in rags and chained together, picking up the roadside rubbish and putting it into black plastic bags. They are groaning and moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime.
The Devil comes over to Blair and puts an arm around his shoulder. "I don't understand," stammers a shocked Tony, "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a club-house and we ate lobster and caviar and drank tequila. We lazed around and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks miserable!"
The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly and slurrs, "Yesterday we were campaigning; today we've got your vote!"
"Welcome to Heaven," says Saint Peter, "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a politician around these parts, so we're not sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in; I'm a good Christian; I'm a believer," says the ex PM.
"I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from God Himself. He says that since the implementation of his new HEAVEN CHOICES policy, you have to spend one day in Hell and one day in Heaven. Then you must choose where you'll live for eternity."
"But I've already made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven," replies Blair.
"I'm sorry ... but we have our rules and bureaucracy. " Peter interjects. And, with that, St. Peter escorts him to an elevator and he goes down, down, down ... all the way to Hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush golf course.
The sun is shining in a cloudless sky. The temperature is a perfect 21degrees. In the distance is a beautiful club-house. Standing in front of it are MPs from all the years of the Great British democracy. There are luminaries who had helped Blair over the years. The whole set of the Party leaders from the past were there, everyone laughing, happy, and casually but expensively, dressed. They run to greet him, to hug him and to reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at the expense of 'suckers and peasants.' They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar. The Devil himself comes up to Blair with a frosty drink, "Have a tequila and relax, Tony!"
"Uh, I can't drink any more, I took a pledge," says Blair, dejectedly.
"This is Hell, son. You can drink and eat all you want and not worry and it just gets better from there!"
So Tony takes the drink and finds himself liking the Devil, who he thinks is a really very friendly bloke who tells funny jokes like himself and pulls hilarious nasty pranks, like the ones he and Hewitt pulled with the NHS and with Kelly on Education. They are having such a great time that, before he realises it, it's time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves as Blair steps on the elevator and heads upward. When the elevator door reopens, he is in Heaven again and Saint Peter is waiting for him.
"Now it's time to visit Heaven," the old man says, opening the gate.
So for 24 hours Blair is made to hang out with a bunch of honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's company, talk about things other than money and treat each other decently. Not a nasty prank or egotistical remark among them. No fancy country clubs here and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or lobster. Surprisingly these people are all poor. He doesn't see anybody he knows and he isn't even treated like someone special!
"Whoa," he says uncomfortably to himself. "Mandelson never prepared me for this!"
The day done, Saint Peter returns and says, "Well, you've spent a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now you must choose where you want to live for eternity. With the 'Deal or No Deal' theme playing softly in the background, Blair reflects for a minute .. then answers: "Well, I would never have thought I'd say this -- I mean, Heaven has been delightful and all -- but I really think I belong in Hell with my friends."
So Saint Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell. The doors of the elevator open and he is in the middle of a concrete jungle covered with garbage and toxic industrial wasteland, kind of like the eroded, infested areas that Prescott created in the South East housing blight. He is horrified to see all of his friends, dressed in rags and chained together, picking up the roadside rubbish and putting it into black plastic bags. They are groaning and moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime.
The Devil comes over to Blair and puts an arm around his shoulder. "I don't understand," stammers a shocked Tony, "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a club-house and we ate lobster and caviar and drank tequila. We lazed around and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks miserable!"
The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly and slurrs, "Yesterday we were campaigning; today we've got your vote!"
The best way to forget your troubles is to wear tight shoes.
-
John Knight
- Deputy Grecian
- Posts: 314
- Joined: Sat Feb 04, 2006 10:19 am
- Location: Surrey
(You really have to wonder who writes these things!!! - JK)
The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate
father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive,
Mr. Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, "Well, I'm off now. The man
should be here soon."
Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer
happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning,
Ma'am", he said, "I've come to..."
"Oh, no need to explain," Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, "I've been
expecting you."
"Have you really?" said the photographer. "Well, that's good. Did you know
babies are my specialty?"
"Well that's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a
seat".
After a moment she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"
"Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the
couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor
is fun. You can really spread out there."
"Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work out for Harry and
me!"
"Well, Ma'am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try
several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure
you'll be pleased with the results."
"My, that's a lot!", gasped Mrs. Smith.
"Ma'am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I'd love to be In
and out in five minutes, but I'm sure you'd be disappointed with that."
"Don't I know it," said Mrs. Smith quietly.
The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his
baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus," he said.
"Oh, my God!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat.
"And these twins turned out exceptionally well - when you consider their
mother was so difficult to work with."
"She was difficult?" asked Mrs. Smith.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job
done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good
look"
"Four and five deep?" said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement.
"Yes", the photographer replied. "And for more than three hours, too. The
mother was constantly squealing and yelling - I could hardly concentrate,
and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the
squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in."
Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "Do you mean they actually chewed on your,
uh...equipment?"
"It's true, Ma'am, yes.. Well, if you're ready, I'll set-up my tripod and
we can get to work right away."
"Tripod?"
"Oh yes, Ma'am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too
big to be held in the hand very long."
Mrs. Smith fainted
The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate
father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive,
Mr. Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, "Well, I'm off now. The man
should be here soon."
Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer
happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning,
Ma'am", he said, "I've come to..."
"Oh, no need to explain," Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, "I've been
expecting you."
"Have you really?" said the photographer. "Well, that's good. Did you know
babies are my specialty?"
"Well that's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a
seat".
After a moment she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"
"Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the
couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor
is fun. You can really spread out there."
"Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work out for Harry and
me!"
"Well, Ma'am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try
several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure
you'll be pleased with the results."
"My, that's a lot!", gasped Mrs. Smith.
"Ma'am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I'd love to be In
and out in five minutes, but I'm sure you'd be disappointed with that."
"Don't I know it," said Mrs. Smith quietly.
The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his
baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus," he said.
"Oh, my God!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat.
"And these twins turned out exceptionally well - when you consider their
mother was so difficult to work with."
"She was difficult?" asked Mrs. Smith.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job
done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good
look"
"Four and five deep?" said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement.
"Yes", the photographer replied. "And for more than three hours, too. The
mother was constantly squealing and yelling - I could hardly concentrate,
and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the
squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in."
Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "Do you mean they actually chewed on your,
uh...equipment?"
"It's true, Ma'am, yes.. Well, if you're ready, I'll set-up my tripod and
we can get to work right away."
"Tripod?"
"Oh yes, Ma'am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too
big to be held in the hand very long."
Mrs. Smith fainted
Prep B 49 / Barnes B 39 - 1946-1952
-
J.R.
- Forum Moderator
- Posts: 15835
- Joined: Wed Mar 09, 2005 4:53 pm
- Real Name: John Rutley
- Location: Dorking, Surrey
Blonde's yearly diary !
January - Took new scarf back to store because it was too tight
February - Fired from pharmacy job for failing to print labels.... Helllloooo!!! .....bottles won't fit in the typewriter !
March - -Got really excited - finished jigsaw puzzle in 6 months – .....box said "2-4 years!"
April - Trapped on escalator for hours.....power went out !
May - Tried to make Kool-Aid.....wrong instructions....8 cups of water won't fit into those little packets !
June - Tried to go water skiing..... couldn't find a lake with a slope.
July - Lost breast stroke swimming competition..... learned later, the other swimmers cheated, they used their arms !
August - Got locked out of my car in rain storm - car swamped because soft-top was open.
September - The capital of California is "C" .....isn't it ?
October - Hate M & M's.....they are so hard to peel.
November - Baked turkey for 4 ½ days .....instructions said 1 hour per pound and I weigh 108 lbs !
December - Couldn't call 911 ....."duh"..... there's no "eleven" button on the stupid phone !
January - Took new scarf back to store because it was too tight
February - Fired from pharmacy job for failing to print labels.... Helllloooo!!! .....bottles won't fit in the typewriter !
March - -Got really excited - finished jigsaw puzzle in 6 months – .....box said "2-4 years!"
April - Trapped on escalator for hours.....power went out !
May - Tried to make Kool-Aid.....wrong instructions....8 cups of water won't fit into those little packets !
June - Tried to go water skiing..... couldn't find a lake with a slope.
July - Lost breast stroke swimming competition..... learned later, the other swimmers cheated, they used their arms !
August - Got locked out of my car in rain storm - car swamped because soft-top was open.
September - The capital of California is "C" .....isn't it ?
October - Hate M & M's.....they are so hard to peel.
November - Baked turkey for 4 ½ days .....instructions said 1 hour per pound and I weigh 108 lbs !
December - Couldn't call 911 ....."duh"..... there's no "eleven" button on the stupid phone !
John Rutley. Prep B & Coleridge B. 1958-1963.
-
englishangel
- Forum Moderator
- Posts: 6956
- Joined: Mon Feb 07, 2005 12:22 pm
- Real Name: Mary Faulkner (Vincett)
- Location: Amersham, Buckinghamshire
