The Definitive Humor Thread

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Dogs_In_A_Pile
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I Do Believe It Works This Way

Not Raising Hogs

Dear Secretary Vilsack:

My friend, Bud, over in Iowa, received a check the other day for $1,000 from the government for not raising hogs. So, I want to go into the business of "not raising hogs" myself next year.

What I want to know is, in your opinion, what is the best type of farm not to raise hogs on, and what is the best breed of hogs not to raise? Also, is it possible to get a grazing permit to not raise hogs on public lands (preferably in a wolf or grizzly recovery area so environmentalists will pay me for any not raised hogs lost)? I want to be sure that I approach this endeavor in keeping with all government policies.

I would prefer not to raise Razor hogs, but if that is not a good breed not to raise, then I can just as easily not raise Yorkshires or Durocs. As I see it, the hardest part of this program will be keeping an accurate inventory of how many hogs I haven't raised, but I understand that I will be able to accelerate the depreciation on the computer that I will buy for keeping those records. If I can get $1,000 for not raising 50 hogs, will I get $2,000 for not raising 100 hogs - or are the payments progressive? I plan to operate on a small scale at first, holding myself down to about 4,000 "not raised" hogs, which will give me $80,000 income the first year.

Then I can buy an airplane. Now, another thing... these hogs I will not raise will not eat 100,000 bushels of corn. I understand you also pay farmers for not raising corn and wheat. Will I qualify for payments for not raising wheat and corn not to feed the 4,000 hogs I am not going to raise? As I am not going to use subsidized irrigation water to not water that corn and wheat that I will not be raising to not feed my not raised hogs, will the government pay me the subsidy for the water not used? What about ESA mitigation credits that I could sell to developers for their use in habitat conservation plans and safe harbor agreements?

Also, if I do not raise hogs on public lands, will I still qualify for drought relief payments about 7 out of every 10 years like the folks who raise cows there do? Can I pledge a BLM or Forest Service permit to not raise hogs as security on a loan from my bank, and will my grazing permit be extended for 10 years if I do? How about predator control to protect my not raised hogs, and do you happen to know which states will provide the best animal damage reimbursements and best property tax breaks? Is it true that in the future I will be allowed to lock the gates on public lands to protect the hogs that I am not raising there, and will you provide the locks?

I want to get started not raising hogs as soon as possible, as this seems to be a good time of the year to not raise hogs and grain. I am also considering the "not milking cows" business, so please send me any information on that program as well.

In view of these circumstances, I understand that I will qualify for "earned income" tax credits and the government will also consider me totally unemployed, so I plan to file for unemployment and food stamps as well. Will I also be able to take an oil depletion allowance for the oil and gasoline that I will not be using in the farm equipment that I will not have?

Thank you for making these benefits available to us common folk.

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

From Buffalo's alt weekly The Beast:

 

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Bill Maher's New Rules

 

And my most favorite one of all:

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

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A gardening joke

Italian   Tomato   Garden:  
  

An  old Italian lived alone in   New Jersey .  He wanted to plant his  annual  tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground  was hard. 

His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in  prison.. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his  predicament: 

Dear  Vincent,    
I  am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won't be able to plant my  tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a  garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over..  I  know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days.  
Love, Papa 

A  few days later he received a letter from his son..  


Dear  Pop, 
Don't dig up that garden. That's where the bodies are buried..  
Love, 
Vinnie 

   
   
At  4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up  the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man  and left. 


That  same day the old man received another letter from his son.  

Dear  Pop, 
Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do  under the circumstances. 
  

Love  you,

Vinnie   

 

 
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A gardening joke

 An  old Italian lived alone in   New Jersey .  He wanted to plant his  annual  tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground  was hard. 

His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in  prison.. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his  predicament: 

Dear  Vincent,    
I  am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won't be able to plant my  tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a  garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over..  I  know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days.  
Love, Papa 

A  few days later he received a letter from his son..  


Dear  Pop, 
Don't dig up that garden. That's where the bodies are buried..  
Love, 
Vinnie 

   
   
At  4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up  the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man  and left. 


That  same day the old man received another letter from his son.  

Dear  Pop, 
Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do  under the circumstances. 
  

Love  you,

Vinnie   

 

 
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Re: A gardening joke: ROFL!
suesullivan wrote:

 An  old Italian lived alone in   New Jersey .  He wanted to plant his  annual  tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground  was hard. 

His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in  prison.. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his  predicament: 

Dear  Vincent,    
I  am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won't be able to plant my  tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a  garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over..  I  know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days.  
Love, Papa 

A  few days later he received a letter from his son..  


Dear  Pop, 
Don't dig up that garden. That's where the bodies are buried..  
Love, 
Vinnie 

   
   
At  4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up  the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man  and left. 


That  same day the old man received another letter from his son.  

Dear  Pop, 
Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do  under the circumstances. 
  

Love  you,

Vinnie   

 

 

ROFL!!!!!!!!!

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

:D

Huge +1, that's hilarious =)

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

Did you hear what the Canadian gangster said?

Heeey, fugitabootit.

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Letter From My Dear Mum ...

suesullivan,

... you reminded me of ... ... a letter from my dear mother. I'm usually such a very private person at heart ... but I'm so sure you'll value her as much as I ...

Best,

Paul

Dear Son,
Just a few lines to let you know I'm still alive. I'm writing this letter slowly because I know you can't read very fast. You won't know the house when you come home we've moved.

About your father, he has lovely new job, he has 500 men under him he works in the cemetary.

There was a washing machine in the new house when we moved in, but it isn't working too good. Last week I put 14 shirts into it, pulled the chain, and haven't seen them since.

Your sister Mary had a baby this morning, I haven't found out whether it's a boy or a girl, so I don't know whether you're an aunt or an uncle.

Your Uncle dick drowned last week in a vat of whisky in a Dublin brewery. Some of his workmates dived in to save him but he fought them off bravely. We cremated his body and it took 3 days for the fire to go out.

Your father didn't have much to drink at Christmas. I put castor oil in his beer, it kept him going till the new year.

I went to the doctor on thursday and your father came with me. The doctor put a small glass tube in my mouth and told me not to open it for ten minutes. Your father offered to buy it from him.

It only rained twice last week, first for three days then for four days. Monday, it was so windy that one of the chickens laid the same egg.

We had a letter from the undertaker, He said if we don't pay up the instalments on your grandmother within 7 days, up she comes.

Your Loving Mother

P.S.- I was going to send you �10.00, but I had already sealed the envelope.
 

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Do You Speak English?

Best,

Paul

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Savage chicken

Small Talk

gSmall Talk

Decisions

Why?

Today is the first day ...

Screen time

 

And lots more on http://www.savagechickens.com.

 

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Re: Letter From My Dear Mum ...

How funny! My dad's got a wall hanging with that letter on it (or one very close to it) "Letter from an Irish Mother," I think it's titled. I read it every time we're back for a visit. The speaking English skit was a good chuckle too, thanks!

p.s. I never got back to you on the higher education thread, but I've always noticed your Gatto quote. He's been a great source of inspiration and critical thinking for me as well...

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

Aloha gang!  My first post, though I've been lurking since last year....Thought this thread would be an appropriate place to debut as I don't have to opine on any of the other valuable issues presented on this great site.  Just share some laughs....I do want to really thank the regulars (and irregulars) who contribute to this site-regularly.  Building a great community...Lokahi, Imua.  Steve.

 

 

The US has made a new weapon that destroys people but keeps the building standing. Its called the stock market.

Do you have any idea how cheap stocks are? Wall Street is now being called Wal-Mart Street.

I want to warn people from Nigeria. if you get any emails from Washington asking for money, it's a scam. Don't fall for it.

What worries me most about the credit crunch, is that if one of my checks is returned stamped „insufficient funds‟. I won‟t know whether that refers to mine or the bank's. 

The current stimulus package before Congress contains tax breaks for purchasing a home and buying a new car. So I plan to get a double tax break by buying a new Chevy van and living in it. 

The way things are going the only people who will have jobs are those in the unemployment office. 

According to the NY Times, it seems that Verizon will likely receive over a billion dollars of stimulus money to bring fast Internet connections to rural and low-income areas. Soon, people living in Newark and Georgia will be able to go online at 128 kilobits per second to see that they have no money in their savings account. 

Toyota, riding the demand for fuel-efficient cars, has officially ended General Motors 77-year reign as the world‟s largest automaker. As a result, GM now assumes the title of world‟s largest former employer. 

The poor economy is even affecting the NFL, who will be cutting 150 employees. We‟re hoping most of them will be the Detroit Lions. 

Members of Congress have complained that the Big Three automakers are too inefficient to be competitive. And if there is anyone who knows about being inefficient, it‟s the US Congress. 

Liquidity: that gushing feeling in your pants when you look at your 401k statement. 

The Labor Department reports that the number of laid-off workers currently receiving unemployment benefits is at an all-time high of 4.99 million. Last year only 2.77 million people were on unemployment.

In other news:

Since February of 2008, workplace violence has decreased by 45 percent.

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

Two ladies talking in heaven...

1st woman:  Hi Wanda.

2nd woman:  Hi Sylvia. How'd you die?
 
1st woman:  I froze to death.

2nd woman:  How horrible!

1st woman:  It wasn't so bad. After I quit shaking from the cold, I began to get warm & sleepy, and finally died a peaceful death. What about you?

2nd woman:  I died of a massive heart attack. I suspected that my husband was cheating, so I came home early to catch him in the act. But instead, I found him all by himself in the den watching TV.

1st woman:   So, what happened?
 
2nd woman:  I was so sure there was another woman there somewhere that I started running all over the house looking. I ran up into the attic and searched, and down into the basement. Then I went through every closet and checked under all the beds.  I kept this up until I had looked everywhere, and finally I became so exhausted that I just keeled over with a heart attack and died.

1st woman:   Too bad you didn't look in the freezer---we'd both still be alive.

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

The wages of Sin are Death... but after they take out Taxes, it's really just a tired feeling.

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

A LITTLE KNOWN BASEBALL FACT:

The first testicular guard (Cup) was used in baseball in 1874 and the first helmet was used in 1934.

It took 60 years for men to realize that the brain is also important.

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

... aaahhh, what a beautiful child ...

... but such language!!!

Best,

Paul

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Drafting Guys over 60

New Direction for any war: Send Service Vets over 60!

I am over 60 and the Armed Forces thinks I'm too old to track down terrorists.. You can't be older than 42 to join the military. They've got the whole thing ass-backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least 35.

For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds.  Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy.

Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. 'My back hurts!  I can't sleep, I'm tired and hungry' We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some asshole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for a while.

An 18-year-old doesn't even like to get  up before 10 a.m. Old guys always get up early to pee so what the hell. Besides, like I said, 'I'm tired and can't sleep and since I'm already up, I may as well be up killing fanatical s-o-b's....

If  captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser...

Boot camp would be easier for old guys.  We're used to getting screamed and yelled at and we're used to soft food.. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We've been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling.

They could lighten up on the obstacle course however. I've been in combat and didn't see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any push ups after completing basic training.

Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too. I've never seen anyone outrun a bullet.

An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave, to start up a conversation with a pretty girl.  He still hasn't figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head.

These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way.

Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists. The last thing an enemy would want to see is a couple of million pissed off old farts with attitudes and automatic weapons who know that their best years are already behind them.

***p.s.  How about recruiting Women over 50 ....with PMS !!! You think Men have attitudes !!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh my God!!!

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

Yes, yes, I should know better than to post something this controversial on the humor thread... but, man, when I saw this, I laughed so hard I sprayed tea out of my nose and nearly wet my pants:

http://truthsite.org/GunsNReligion/

(granted, I do have a very disturbed sense of humor and this is hilarious for all the wrong reasons... so wrong, so very wrong)

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An Owl in My Room

 

Well!  It's been a long time since I found obscenity funny, and I'm not usually amused by gender hostility . . . . But I do remember a day when foul language was not required to get published, and when obnoxious, obscene behavior was not required to make it as a stand-up comic.  (Yes, I am very old . . . ). 

I don't recall exactly what triggered it, but I recently remembered this essay by James Thurber, and how it reliably made me laugh spasmodically, regardless of how many times I read it.  Some momentary pitch-everything insanity made me discard my copy of the volume in which it was contained, and so, I was compelled to buy a second copy last week.  And, rereading the essay for the upteenth time, I found it just as funny as it was ten years ago, so much so, that my throat is still burning from the strain of laughing myself breathless.  I suspect that this is the kind of humor that, like pigeons, either has a devastating effect on us, or leaves us cold, entirely, but here goes:

There's an Owl in My Room

I saw Gertrude Stein on the screen of a newsreel theater one afternoon and I heard her read that famous passage of hers about pigeons on the grass, alas (the sorrow is, as you know, Miss Stein's).  After reading about the pegions on the grass alas, Miss Stein said, "This is a simple description of a landscape I have seen many times."  I don't really believe that that is true.  Pigeons on the grass alas may be a simple description of Miss Stein's own consciousness, but it is not a simple description of a plot of grass on which pigeons have alighted, are alighting, or are going to alight.  A truly simple description of the pigeons alighting on the grass of the Luxembourg Gardens (which , I believe, is where the pigeons alighted) would say of the pigeons alighting there only that they were pigeons alighting.  Pigeons that alight anywhere are neither sad pigeons nor gay pigeons, they are simply pigeons.

It is neither just nor accurate to connect the word alas with pigeons.  Pigeons are definitely not alas.  They have nothing to do with alas and they have nothing to do with hooray (not even when you tie red, white, and blue ribbons on them and let them loose at band concerts); they have nothing to do with mercy me or isn't that fine, either.  White rabbits, yes, and Scotch terriers, and bluejays, and even hippopotamusses, but not pigeons.  I happen to have studied pigeons very closely and carefully, and I have studied the effect, or rather the lack of effect, of pigeons very carefully.  A number of pigeons alight from time to time on the sill of my hotel window when I am eating breakfast and staring out the window.  They never alas me, they never make me feel alas; they never make me feel anything. 

Nobody and no animal and no other bird can play a scene so far down as a pigeon can.  For instance, when a pigeon on my window ledge becomes aware of me sitting there in a chair in my blue polka-dot dressing-gown, worrying, he pokes his head far out from his shoulders and peers sideways at me, for all the world (Miss Stein might surmise) like a timid man peering around the corner of a building trying to ascertain whether he is being followed by some hoofed fiend or only by the echo of his own footsteps.  And yet it is not for all the world like a timid man peering around the corner of a builiding trying to ascertain whether he is being followed by a hoofed fiend or only by the echo of his on footsteps, at all.  And that is because there is no emotion in the pigeon and no power to arouse emotion.  A pigeon looking is just a pigeon looking.  When it comes to emotion, a fish, compared to a pigeon, is practically beside himself.

A pigeon peering at me doesn't make me sad or glad or apprehensive or hopeful.  With a horse or a cow or a dog it would be different.  It would be especially different with a dog.  Some dogs peer at me as if I had just gone completely crazy or as if they had just gone completely crazy.  I can go so far as to say that most dogs peer at me that way.  This creates in the consciousness of both me and the dog a feeling of alarm or downright terror and legitimately permits me to work into a description of the landscape, in which the dog and myself are figures, a note of emotion.  Thus I should not have minded if Miss Stein had written:  dogs on the grass, look out, dogs on the grass, look out, look out, dogs on the grass, look out Alice.  That would be a simple description of dogs on the grass.  But when any writer pretends that a pigeon makes him sad, or makes him anything else, I must instantly protest that this is a highly specialized fantastic impression created in an individual consciousness and that therefore it cannot fairly be presented as a simple description of what actually was to be seen.

People who do not understand pigeons -- and pigeons can be understood only when you understand that there is nothing to understand about them -- should not go around describing pigeons or the effect of pigeons.  Pigeons come closer to a zero of impingement than any other birds.  Hens embarrass me the way my old Aunt Hattie used to when I was twelve and she still insisted I wasn't big enough to bathe myself; owls disturb me; if I am with an eagle I always pretend that I am not with an eagle; and so on down to swallows at twilight who scare the hell out of me.  But pigeons have absolutely no effect on me.  They have absolutely no effect on anybody.  They couldn't even startle a child.  That is why they are selected from among all birds to be let loose, with colored ribbons attached to them, at band concerts, library dedications, and christening of new dirigibles.  If anybody let loose a lot of owls on such an occasion there would be rioting and catcalls and whistling and fainting spells and throwing of chairs and goodness knows what else.

From where I am sitting now I can look out the window and see a pigeon being a pigeon on the roof of the Harvard Club.  No other thing can be less what it is not than a pigeon can, and Miss Stein, of all people, should understand that simple fact.  Behind the pigeon I am looking at, a blank wall of tired gray bricks is stolidly trying to sleep off oblivion; underneath the pigeon the cloistered windows of the Harvard Club are staring in horrified bewilderment at something they have seen across the street.  The pigeon is just there on the roof being a pigeon, having been and being, a pigeon and, what is more, always going to be, too.  Nothing could be simpler than that.  If you read that sentence aloud you will instantly see what I mean.  It is a simple description of a pigeon on a roof.  It is only with an effort that I am conscious of the pigeon, but I am acutely aware of a great sulky red iron pipe that is creeping up the side of the building intent on sneaking up on a slightly tipsy chimney which is shouting its head off.

There is nothing a pigeon can do or be that would make me feel sorry for it or for myself or for the people in the world, just as there is nothing I could do or be that would make a pigeon feel sorry for itself.  Even if I plucked his feathers out it would not make him feel sorry for himself and it would not make me feel sorry for myself or for him.  But try plucking the quills out of a porcupine or even plucking the fur out or a jackrabbit.  There is nothing a pigeon could be, or can be, rather which could get into my consciousness like a fumbling hand in a bureau drawer and disarrange my mind or pull anything out of it.  I bar nothing at all.  You could dress up a pigeon in a tiny suit of evening clothes and put a tiny silk hat on his head and a tiny gold-headed cane under his wing and send him walking into my room at night.  It would make no impression on me.  I would not shout, "Good gracious, the birds are in charge!"  But you could send an owl into my room, dressed only in the feathers it was born with, and no monkey busines, and I would pull the covers over my head and scream.

No other thing in the world falls so far short of being able to do what it cannot do as a pigeon does.  Of being unable to do what it can do, to, as far as that goes.

 

Well, there you have it . . . . This essay is so hilarious to me that I hand-transcibed it to share it with you all.  I have little doubt that those who are annoyed by my viewpoints will see in my appreciation of this work some evidence of latent mental infirmity, but there it is. 

I guess this tickles me because Thurber does a remarkable job of pointing up how much our perceptions are influenced by our interior state.  Or maybe that he is such a phenomenal wordsmith that one can easily envision him holding forth at a cocktail party, snifter in hand, about the soulless character of the pigeon.  Regardless, this piece still holds its magic for me, and I hope you enjoy it, too.

 

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread
This is so funny!  Watch the gal at the first of it. 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 This is square dancing Midwest style

 

   How we  have fun in the midwest .... Maybe  people from the East coast and West coast will stay where they are  !!!

 Diana

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

       So maybe this one will work .  

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

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Re: The Definitive Humor Thread

Had a guy on another thread talking about how he wanted to fly in under the radar, parachute into Denali Park with his buddies, build himself a quick cabin, go hunt the biggest bear he could find (with a 9mm no less) while they all survived on canned crops that got air dropped in. Guy was obviously a few nickels short of a dollar... but, man, them cans of crops sound loverly...

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TESTOSTERONE, ESTROGEN, AND GUNPOWDER

http://backwoodshome.com/blogs/MassadAyoob/2009/06/24/testostrone-estrog...

I am not by any means an expert on the Gender Wars.  During the Sexual Revolution, I was MIA, and during the Battle Between the Sexes I was a POW.

However, I’ve noticed that cute threads on this topic sometimes pop up in the Internet gun forums.  A few years ago there was one called “Ten Reasons Why Guns Are Better Than Women.” (Your primary doesn’t get jealous of your backup. You can get a silencer for a gun. You can trade a .44 for two .22s.)

This was quickly followed by a riposte on the theme of “Ten Reasons Why Guns Are Better Than Men.” (Guns don’t leave spent casings all over the toilet seat.  Guns work whether you stroke their ego or not. And, yes, you can trade a .44 for two .22s.)

I was reminded of this by a recent “joke for guys” on the Internet titled “Spring Classes For Women.”  A self-styled shooterchick of my acquaintance responded.  Apparently, one rule of life that should be right up there with “do not eat the yellow snow” is, “do not tease smart women who carry guns and have shooting trophies.”  Her responses can be found in bold, below.

I’ll go hide behind solid cover now…

Spring Classes for Women at
THE ADULT LEARNING CENTER

REGISTRATION MUST BE COMPLETED

by Tuesday, June 23, 2009

NOTE: DUE TO THE COMPLEXITY AND DIFFICULTY LEVEL OF THEIR CONTENTS, CLASS SIZES WILL BE LIMITED TO 8 PARTICIPANTS MAXIMUM.

Class 1
Up in Winter, Down in Summer - How to Adjust a Thermostat
Step by Step, with Slide Presentation.
Meets 4 wks, Monday and Wednesday for 2 hrs beginning at 7:00 PM..

It was Hot, it was cold, go outside if you don’t like it.

Class 2
Which Takes More Energy - Putting the Toilet Seat Down, or Bitching About It for 3 Hours?
Round Table Discussion.
Meets 2 weeks, Saturday 12:00 for 2 hours.

Doesn’t matter bitching is an art form, a means of expression.

Class 3
Is It Possible To Drive Past a Wal-Mart Without Stopping?–Group Debate.
Meets 4 weeks, Saturday 10:00 PM for 2 hours.

Not if they may have ammo.

Class 4
Fundamental Differences Between a Purse and a Suitcase–Pictures and Explanatory Graphics.
Meets Saturdays at 2:00 PM for 3 weeks.

A suitcase is rigid, hard to the touch. A purse needs to hold all your personal items, a camera, a recorder, and all his sh#t you need to keep track of.

Class 5
Curling Irons–Can They Levitate and Fly Into The Bathroom Cabinet?
Examples on Video.
Meets 4 weeks, Tuesday and Thursday for 2 hours beginning at 7:00 PM

They don’t need to; they can happily coexist with the Hair/beard trimmer that men leave on the counter.

Class 6
How to Ask Questions During Commercials and Be Quiet During the Program.
Help Line Support and Support Groups.
Meets 4 Weeks, Friday and Sunday 7:00 PM

When is there a break on Glocktalk?

Class 7
Can a Bath Be Taken Without 14 Different Kinds of Soaps and Shampoos?
Open Forum.
Monday at 8:00 PM, 2 hours.

No

Class 8
Health Watch–They Make Medicine for PMS - USE IT!
Three nights; Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 7:00 PM for 2 hours.

Do they have an equivalent for crabby men?

Class 9
I Was Wrong and He Was Right!–Real Life Testimonials.
Tuesdays at 6:00 PM Location to be determined.

This is a class on Fantasy/Mythology

Class 10
How to Parallel Park In Less Than 20 Minutes Without an Insurance Claim.
Driving Simulations.
4 weeks, Saturday’s noon, 2 hours.

Or you can be like a man and park 2 blocks away.

Class 11

Learning to Live–How to Apply Brakes Without Throwing Passengers Through the Windshield.
Tuesdays at 7:00 PM, location to be determined

Yeah, slow down two blocks before you need to.

Class 12
How to Shop by Yourself.
Meets 4 wks, Tuesday and Thursday for 2 hours beginning at 7:00 PM.

Leave his butt at home, take the plastic.

Class 13
How to Fight Cerebral Atrophy–Remembering To Take a List To The Store, Avoiding Separate Trips for Each Item Needed.
Cerebral Shock Therapy Sessions and Full Lobotomies Offered..
Three nights; Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 7:00 PM for 2 hours…

Just go to Walgreens, they have everything you need and if you look long enough you will find it all.

Class 14
The Stove/Oven–What It Is and How It Is Used.
Live Demonstration.
Tuesdays at 6:00 PM, location to be determined.

Yes, if he gets the ammo off/out of it, you can actually cook with it.

 

Upon completion of any of the above courses, diplomas will be issued to the survivors.

Damnthematrix's picture
Damnthematrix
Status: Diamond Member (Offline)
Joined: Aug 10 2008
Posts: 3998
proud to be an Aussie...

ONLY AUSSIES
 
Being Australian is about driving in a German car to an Irish pub for A Belgian beer, then on the way home, grabbing an Indian curry or Turkish kebab, to sit on Swedish furniture and watch American shows on a Chinese TV.

Oh and..... Only in Australia ... can a pizza get to your house faster than an   ambulance.
 
Only in Australia ... do supermarkets make sick people walk all the way to the back of the shop to get their prescriptions while healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front.
 
Only in Australia ... do people order double cheeseburgers, large fries and a DIET coke.
Only in Australia ... do banks leave both doors open and chain the pens to the counters.
Only in Australia ... do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and   lock our junk and cheap lawn mower in the garage.
 
NOT TO MENTION....
 
3 Aussies die each year testing if a 9v battery works on their tongue..
 
58 Aussies are injured each year by using sharp knives instead of screwdrivers.
 
31 Aussies have died since 1996 by watering their Christmas tree while the fairy lights were plugged in.
 
8 Aussies had serious burns in 2000 trying on a new jumper with a lit cigarette in their mouth.
 
A massive 543 Aussies were admitted to Emergency in the last two years after opening bottles of beer with their teeth.
 
and finally..........
 
In 2000 eight Aussies cracked their skull whilst throwing up into the toilet.

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