Sunday, September 24, 2006

Bush and Blair Funny Song

have fun!

Bush Pilot (with English subtitles)

The Bush pilot himself reports about his job and the obstacles involved

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Why did the chicken cross the road?

The problem we have here is that this chicken won't realize
that he must first deal with the problem on "THIS" side of the
road before it goes after the problem on the "OTHER SIDE" of
the road. What we need to do is help him realize how stupid
he's acting by not taking on his "CURRENT" problems before
adding "NEW" problems.

Well I understand that the chicken is having problems, which
is why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of
having the chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls,
which is a part of life, I'm going to give this chicken a car
so that he can just drive across the road and not live his
life like the rest of the chickens.

We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just
want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or
not. The chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no
middle ground here.

Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now
against it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled
about the chicken's intentions. I am for it now, and will
remain against it.

To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.

Because the chicken was gay! Can't you people see the plain
truth in front of your face? The chicken was going to the
"other side." That's why they call it the "other side". Yes,
my friends, that chicken is gay. And if you eat that chicken,
you will become gay too. I say we boycott all chickens until
we sort out this abomination that the liberal media
whitewashes with seemingly harmless phrases like "the other
side." That chicken should not be free to cross the road.
It's as plain and simple as that!

In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road.
Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was
good enough.

Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together
- in peace.

It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

I have just released eChicken2006, which will not only cross
roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and
balance your check book. Internet explorer is an integral part
of eChicken. The Platform is much more stable and will never
cra...#@&&^( C \ reboot.

Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move
beneath the chicken?

I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What is your
definition of chicken?

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Annika's Bus Ride from Hell

Annika's bus ride from hell

One day after work I packed up my belongings and went to catch the bus home. We had some leftover soup and half and half from the café so I packed the leftovers into plastic containers and put them in a plastic bag. Wild guess where this is going?

I got on the bus and as I scooted into the isle to sit down, my shoulder bag slipped over my shoulder and bumped into the plastic bag I was holding in my hand, knocking it to the floor. OH OH! I checked, and the soup container was undamaged. The plastic container with the half and half had a crack at the top, though. I noticed that my apron was white. At least it didn’t tip over, I thought, as the bus left the stop and began its journey towards Portland.

A trickle of thick white started to move from under my seat towards the front of the bus. Oh no, I though, there must be another crack in the bottom of the cup! The trickle turned into a stream, which soon split into 2 streams and as the bus turned the corner into several small rivers. Horrified I looked into the plastic bag and see that the container actually cracked all the way through and split in half! 16 ounzes of half and half in a broken container!

The bus approached the next stop and as the bus driver hit the brakes, the rivers went into every direction. By the time the bus stopped, my half and half had reached the front, back and both sides of the bus! Too bad I don’t believe in a pre-tribulational rapture ( I went to Bible college, after all) or I would have begged God for the rapture NOW! Death seemed like a pretty good alternative, too…

Face red like a tomato I stumbled towards the front of the bus and talked to the driver. She vaguely pointed behind her, saying there were some paper towels. 16 OUNCES, HELLO! A lady in the front of the bus offered me her newspaper and now you are must use your imagination the best you can to picture me crawling through the swaying bus trying to soak up half and half with a newspaper while the river keep running back and forth, left and right through the entirety of the bus…

The reactions of the passengers? Oh, what a plethora there was indeed. One person entered the bus and exclaimed: "Hey, someone just lactated all over the bus!" No kidding… Some moaned, others laughed, some grumbled, many muttered complaints… The bus driver had not yet realized the severity of the lactation situation, however. The bus turned a sharp corner and the newspaper lady's feet slipped on the newspaper and she fell off of her seat, her considerable body mass landing on the flour. As she screamed and scrambled to back to her seat, the bus erupted in complaints about the lactator – that would be me, of course!

The bus driver is now on the phone, trying to call an ambulance for the newspaper lady. By the way, I am not making this up nor am I exaggerating. I really lived a nightmare. Maybe I should congratulate myself… Thankfully the woman declined and the driver called a field supervisor instead.

At the next stop the bus driver and the field supervisor together began mopping up the bus with newspapers. They stood right in front of my seat so that I could not get up. The guy behind me starts complaining loudly: "what is the driver doing this for? I say, the one who made the mess needs to do the cleaning! That's right! Why is that person not doing anything? That's not right, why is the one who made the mess not helping, huh?"

The driver looked at me and told me to stay in my seat. Great. This guy in the front keeps nodding at me and smiling and murmuring: "it happens, you know. Things like that just happen, don’t you worry about it…" Very nice of him, really, but he was talking to me like I was 5 and getting everyone's attention directed towards ME! At that moment I felt like chucking all of my theological education and opting for an immediate rapture.

Now I had my bag on one seat and I was sitting on the other and I had a huge mess between my seat, so I am taking up two seats. So then this old guy got on the bus and glared at me for taking up 2 seats. I finally with lots of difficulty rearranged my stuff, horrified at the idea of tipping over the soup container which now no longer had a bag to protect it. The guy sat down next to me and started talking so loudly, that every head in the bus turned again. "You know, I was coming around the corner and I saw that the bus was here already. It's not supposed to be here yet. I actually had to run. Horrible, bla bla bla…" In a very small voice I replied: "It's actually the earlier bus and it's late…" The guy:" Well, it can't be that bus, it was supposed to come at… bla bla bla…" everyone staring at me and this dude…

We finally approached my bus stop, deliverance at long last! The stop before mine someone rang the bell but then didn't get off. The bus driver was livid: "Who rang my bell and did not get off? If that happens again, I will find that person and kick him off my bus. I am not stopping for nothing, I am 13 Minutes late! 13 Minutes!"

The guy next to me in a VERY loud voice: "Oh wow, you were right, this is the earlier bus! I just heard her say she's 13 Minutes late! I can't believe it. The busses nowadays, running so late! 13 Minutes, I just can't believe that, how can it be so late? … bla bla bla…"

Did I mention it was the bus ride from hell?

Mar Mar

Soothingly, the marriage market opens

Just in the nick of time, I've solved the gay marriage problem.

And just as the issue was threatening to burst into the presidential election and polarize the country, I've done it in a way that values all the principles that the various sides cherish.

My plan even helps the American economy, because I've rejected my first idea, of outsourcing gay marriages to Malaysia.

The plan became clear after watching the heavy traffic into San Francisco of gay couples eager to take any vows. Hundreds of couples were getting up in the middle of the night, waiting in long lines in the streets of San Francisco - braving some of the most determined panhandling of our time - and in their eagerness to get married, completely ignored vital wedding issues such as the reception color scheme.

Gay weddings, we were told, were likely to devalue marriage, but the people waiting in line in SF seemed to value marriage as much as the mother of a pregnant bride.

In fact, they seemed to value it more than a lot of straight couples. The 2000 U.S. Census counted 5.5 million unmarried couples living together - up to 72 percent from 1990 - and eight out of nine were heterosexual. The instant availability of any kind of religious sanction of even all-night Las Vegas wedding chapels was doing nothing for them.

The Bush administration, although opposing gay marriage, has put $1.5 billion into its budget to urge these couples to get married. Vice President Cheney is even offering them secure and undisclosed locations.

With so many Americans wanting to get married who can't, and so many who can not wanting there, there must be a solution. And as this White House always explains, the solution is the market.

There's even a precedent.

Right now, a number of Midwestern power plants pumping out less sulfur dioxide than their legal allotment can sell emission rights to other plants that would otherwise be in violation. The Bush administration loves this idea, and its Clear Skies plan would take the system nationwide and include lots of other controlled elements.

The market has shown us the way again.

Under my proposal, gay couples - and I can't make this clear enough - would have absolutely no right to get married.

They could, however, buy unexercised marriage rights from straight couples.

And they wouldn’t be putting anything into the air except rise.

As a compromise, the idea has something for everyone. The ringing declaration that there is no right to gay marriage should soothe the president's voter base. "Marriage," politicians could say firmly, "is between a man and a woman - or the holders of legally transferred rights therefrom."

The idea of a market solution should calm the president's contributors. The sellers of marriage rights could put the money into child care - which doesn’t do quite as well in the president's new budget as marriage encouragement.

And for gay Americans, the actual ability to get married would keep them from having to move to Ontario or worse, Massachusetts.

Admittedly, some may argue that gay marriage is a different kind of issue than power plants, but the answer to that claim is clear:

Gas should have no more rights than gays.

And if a program to make it easier to put mercury into the air is called Clear Skies, a program to let gay people get married could be called Straight Shooting.

To make the outcome even more acceptable, the final arrangement won't even be called gay marriage, a very divisive term. Instead, gay Americans would be offered the opportunity of Market Marriages.

Or as the process will probably be termed, MarMar.

And Americans are always planning to go to Mars.

President Bush says that the prospect of gay marriage is "troubling".

But for something like Market Marriage, he might just be the best man.

Or something fiscally equivalent.

By David Sarasohn - The Oregonian, Thursday, February 26th 2005 503-221-8523



Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig, huh?

A billion

A billion
The next time you hear a politician use the word "billion" in a casual manner, think about how the "politicians" are spending your tax money. A billion is a difficult number for us to comprehend, so here's a little help:

a. A billion seconds ago it was 1959
b. A billion minutes ago Jesus was alive
c. A billion hours ago it was the stone age
d. A billion days ago, if you are creationist, the world did not exist.
e. A billion dollars ago, was 8 hours and 20 minutes at the rate our government is spending it

Anger Management

Anger Management

This is not something you want to do on a regular basis, but just once........or maybe just a couple of times…

When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it
out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on
someone you don't know.

I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to
make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying "Hello."

I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f***ing
number!" and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that
anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call
her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.

After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an @..%$!" and
hung up. I wrote his number down with the word '@..%$' next to it, and
put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or
had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an @..%$!" It
always cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic '@..%$' calling
would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John
Smith from the telephone company. I'm calling to see if you're familiar
with our Caller ID Program?"

He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and
said, "That's because you're an @..%$!" and hung up.

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking Spot. Some
guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently
waited for. I hit the horn andyelled that I'd been waiting for that spot,
but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window,
so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first @..%$ (I had his
number on speed dial,) I thought that I'd better call the BMW @..%$, too.
I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
He said, "Yes, it is." I asked, "Can you tell me where I can see it?" He
said, "Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax. It's a yellow
rambler, and the car's parked right out in front."

I asked, "What's your name?"
He said, "My name is Don Hansen,"
I asked, "When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
He said, "I'm home every evening after five."
I said, "Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"
He said, "Yes?"
I said, "Don, you're an @..%$!"

Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.

Then I came up with an idea. I called @..%$ ..1.
He said, "Hello."
I said, "You're an @..%$!" (But I didn't hang up.)
He asked, "Are you still there?"
I said, "Yeah,"
He screamed, "Stop calling me,"
I said, "Make me,"
He asked, "Who are you?"
I said, "My name is Don Hansen."
He said, "Yeah? Where do you live?" I said, "@..%$, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax, a yellow rambler, I have a black Beamer parked in front."
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying
your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, @..%$," and hung up.

Then I called @..%$ ..2.
He said, "Hello?"
I said, "Hello, @..%$,"
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."
I said, "You'll what?"
He exclaimed, "I'll kick your ass,"
I answered, "Well, @..%$, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34
Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax, and that I was on my way over there to kill my
gay lover.

Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd.
in Fairfax.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax. I got there just in
time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of
six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.

NOW I feel much better.
Anger management really does work.

Life Explained

Life Explained

On the first day, God created the dog and said

“Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years.”

The dog said: “That’s a long time to be barking. How about only ten years and I’ll give you back the other ten?”

So God agreed.

On the second day, God created the monkey and said:

“Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I’ll give you a twenty year life span.”

The monkey said: “Monkey tricks for twenty years? That’s a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the Dog did?”

And God agreed.

On the third day, God created the cow and said:

“You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer’s family. For this, I will give you a life span of sixty years.”

The cow said: “That’s kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I’ll give back the other forty?”

And God agreed again.

On the fourth day, God created man and said:

“Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. For this, I’ll give you twenty years.”

But man said: “Only twenty years? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, then ten the monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?”

“Okay,” said God, “You asked for it.”

So that is why the first twenty years we eat, sleep, play and enjoy ourselves. For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family. For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren. And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone. Life has now been explained to you.

Travel Agents

Travel Agents

The following are actual stories provided by travel agents:

I had someone ask for an aisle seat so that their hair wouldn't get
messed up by being near the window.

* A client called in inquiring about a package to Hawaii. After going
over all the cost info, she asked, "Would it be cheaper to fly to
California and then take the train to Hawaii?"

* I got a call from a woman who wanted to go to Cape Town. I started
to explain the length of the flight and the passport information when she
interrupted me with "I'm not trying to make you look stupid, but Cape
Town is in Massachusetts." Without trying to make her look like the
stupid one, I calmly explained, "Cape Cod is in Massachusetts, Cape
Town is in Africa." Her response ... click.

* A man called, furious about a Florida package we did. I asked what
was wrong with the vacation in Orlando. He said he was expecting an
ocean-view room. I tried to explain that is not possible, since
Orlando is in the middle of the state. He replied, "Don't lie to me. I looked
on the map and Florida is a very thin state."

* I got a call from a man who asked, "Is it possible to see England
from Canada?" I said, "No." He said, "But they look so close on the map."

* Another man called and asked if he could rent a car in Dallas. When
I pulled up the reservation, I noticed he had a one-hour lay-over in
Dallas. When I asked him why he wanted to rent a car, he said, "I
heard Dallas was a big airport, and I need a car to drive between the gates
to save time."

* A nice lady just called. She needed to know how it was possible that
her flight from Detroit left at 8:20 a.m. and got into Chicago at 8:33
a.m. I tried to explain that Michigan was an hour ahead of Illinois,
but she could not understand the concept of time zones. Finally, I
told her the plane went very fast, and she bought that!

* A woman called and asked, "Do airlines put your physical description
on your bag so they know who's luggage belongs to who?" I said, "No,
why do you ask?" She replied, "Well, when I checked in with the airline,
they put a tag on my luggage that said FAT, and I'm overweight. Is
there any connection?" After putting her on hold for a minute while "I
looked into it," (I was actually laughing) I came back and explained that the
city code for Fresno is FAT, and that the airline was just putting a
destination tag on her luggage.

* I just got off the phone with a man who asked, "How do I know which
plane to get on?" I asked him what exactly he meant, to which he
replied, "I was told my flight number is 823, but none of these darn
planes have numbers on them."

* "A woman called and said, "I need to fly to Pepsi-cola on one of
those computer planes." I asked if she meant to fly to Pensacola on a
commuter plane. She said, "Yeah, whatever."

* A business man called and had a question about the documents he
needed in order to fly to China. After a lengthy discussion about passports,
I reminded him he needed a visa. "Oh no I don't, I've been to China many
times and never had to have one of those." I double checked and sure
enough, his stay required a visa. When I told him this he said, "Look,
I've been to China four times and every time they have accepted my
American Express."

* A woman called to make reservations, "I want to go from Chicago to
Hippopotamus, New York." The agent was at a loss for words. Finally,
the agent asked : "Are you sure that's the name of the town?" "Yes,
what flights do you have?" replied the customer. After some searching, the
agent came back with, "I'm sorry, ma'am, I've looked up every airport
code in the country and can't find a Hippopotamus anywhere." The
customer retorted, "Oh don't be silly. Everyone knows where it is.
Check your map!" The agent scoured a map of the state of New York and
finally offered, "You don't mean Buffalo, do you?" "That's it! I knew
it was a big animal!"

English to blow your mind


We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes; but the plural of ox became
oxen not oxes. One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese, yet the plural
of moose should never be meese. You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of
mice; yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men, why shouldn't the plural of pan
be called pen? If I spoke of my foot and show you my feet, and I give you a
boot, would a pair be called beet? If one is a tooth and a whole set are
teeth, why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those, yet hat in the plural would
never be hose, and the plural of cat is cats, not cose. We speak of a
brother and also of brethren, but though we say mother, we never say

Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him, but imagine the feminine,
she, shis and shim.

If Dad is Pop, how's come Mom isn't Mop?

Some reasons to be grateful if you grew up speaking English:

1) The bandage was wound around the wound.
2) The farm was used to produce produce.
3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.
4) We must polish the Polish furniture.
5) He could lead if he would get the lead out.
6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.
7) Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to
present the present.
8) At the Army base, a bass was painted on the head of a bass drum.
9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.
10) I did not object to the object.
11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.
12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.
13) They were too close to the door to close it.
14) The buck does funny things when the does are present.
15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.
16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.
17) The wind was too strong to wind the sail.
18) After a number of Novocain injections, my jaw got number.
19) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.
20) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.
21) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?
22) I spent last evening evening out a pile of dirt.

Screwy pronunciations can mess up your mind! For example... If you have a
rough cough, climbing can be tough when going through the bough on a tree!

Let's face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor
ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple.

We take English for granted.

But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly,
boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a
pig. And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't
groce and hammers don't ham?

Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend?

If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them,
what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught?

If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?

Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English should be
committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.

In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by
truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? How
can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise
guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house
can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out
and in which an alarm goes off by going on