Humor

An archive for the steady stream of humorous and sometimes even profound messages arriving in my Email. Site Feed

Thursday, October 28, 2004

 

There were two nuns

One of them was known as Sister Mathematical (SM), and the other one was known as Sister Logical (SL).

It is getting dark and they are still far away from the convent.

SM : Have you noticed that a man has been following us for the past thirty-eight and a half minutes? I wonder what he wants.

SL: It's logical. He wants to rape us.

SM: Oh, no! At this rate he will reach us in 15 minutes at the most! What can we do?

SL: The only logical thing to do of course is to walk faster.

SM: It's not working.

SL: Of course it's not working. The man did the only logical thing. He started to walk faster, too.

SM: So, what shall we do? At this rate he will reach us in one minute.

SL: The only logical thing we can do is split. You go that way and I'll go this way. He cannot follow us both.

So the man decided to follow Sister Logical. Sister Mathematical arrives at the convent and is worried about what has happened to Sister Logical. Then Sister Logical arrives.

SM: Sister Logical! Thank God you are here! Tell me what happened!

SL: The only logical thing happened. The man couldn't follow us both,so he followed me

SM: Yes, yes! But what happened then?

SL: The only logical thing happened. I started to run as fast as I could and he started to run as fast as he could.

SM: And?

SL: The only logical thing happened. He reached me

SM: Oh, dear! What did you do?

SL: The only logical thing to do. I lifted my dress up.

SM: Oh, Sister! What did the man do?

SL: The only logical thing to do. He pulled down his pants. .................................

SM: Oh, no! What happened then?

SL: Isn't it logical, Sister? A nun with her dress up can run faster than man with his pants down.

And for those of you who thought it would be dirty, say two Hail Marys!




Thursday, October 21, 2004

 

Bubba and The Tazer

Authored by Bubba,

My friends are fond of saying that my last words on this earth will be something akin to, "hey y'all, hold my beer and watch this!" Well, I have outdone myself once again. No doubt you will see this true story chronicled in a LifeTime movie in the near future.

Here goes: Last weekend I spied something at Larry's Pistol and Pawn that tickled my fancy. (Note: Keep in mind that my "fancy" is easily tickled. I had gone into the Star Market to pick up some milk yesterday and I bought a superball in the checkout line -- 50 cents. What a bargain! It tickled my fancy--still does. That thing bounces soooooo high, and it has provided me with hours of entertainment. It just doesn't get any better than that, now does it?) I'm so easily distracted. That dang superball is so much fun.

So what were we talking about? Oh yeah, I bought something really cool at Larry's Pistol and Pawn last Saturday. The occasion was my 50th birthday and I was looking for a little something extra cool. What I came across was a 100,000 volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer gun with a clip. For those of you who are not familiar with this product, it is a less-than-lethal stun gun with two metal prongs designed to incapacitate an assailant with a shock of high-voltage, low amperage electricity while you flee to safety. The effects are supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, but allowing you adequate time to retreat to safety. You simply jab the prongs into your 250 lb. tattooed assailant, push the button, and it will render him a slobbering, goggle-eyed, muscle-twitching, whimpering, pencil-neck geek. If you've never seen one of these things in action, then you're truly missing out--way too cool!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was so disappointed. Upon reading the directions (we don't need no stinkin' directions), I found much to my chagrin that this particular model would not create an arch between the prongs. How disappointing! I do love fire for effect. I learned that if I pushed the button, however, and pressed it against a metal surface that I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs that I was so looking forward to. I did so. Awesome!!! Sparks, a blue arch of electricity, and a loud pop!!! Yipeeeeee . . . I'm easily amused.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, etc., etc. There I sat in my recliner, my dog Molly looking on intently (trusting little soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not Molly), and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood target. I must admit I thought about zapping Molly for a fraction of a second and thought better of it. She is such a sweet doggy, after all. But, if I was going to use this thing to protect myself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? Was I wrong to think that? Seemed reasonable to me at the time . So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, Tazer in another.

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. All the while I'm looking at this little device (measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference, pretty cute really, and loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself, "no bloody way!" Bloody way--trust me, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best. Those of you who know me well have got a pretty good idea of what followed. I'm sitting there alone, Molly looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it daddy," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny lil' ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad (sound, rational thinking under the circumstances, wouldn't you agree?). I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the hell of it. (Note: You know, a bad decision is like hindsight--always twenty-twenty. It is so obvious that it was a bad decision after the fact, even though it seemed so right at the time. Don't ya hate that?)

I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and Holy F**king Chit! DAMN!!! I'm pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in through the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, then body slammed me on the carpet over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position. Molly was standing over me making whimpering sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "do it again daddy, do it again!" (Note: If you ever feel compelled to mug yourself with a Tazer, one note of caution. There is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You're not going to let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. Then, if you're lucky, you won't dislodge one of the prongs 1/4" deep in your thigh like yours truly.) SON-OF-A-BIAAATCH that hurt!

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at this point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, as my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. +/- an ounce or two, I'm pretty sure. By the way, has anyone seen my testicles? I think they ran away. I'm offering a reward. They're round, rather large, kinda hairy, and handsome if I must say so myself. Miss 'em . . . sure would like to get 'em back

Yours Truly. Bubba

 

The Rambo Granny of Melbourne, Australia

Gun-toting granny Ava Estelle, 81, was so ticked-off when two thugs raped her 18-year-old granddaughter that she tracked the unsuspectingex-cons down - - and shot off their testicles.

The old lady spent a week hunting those men down -- and when she found them, she took revenge on them in her own special way, said Melbourne police investigator Evan Delp. Then she took a taxi to the nearest police station, laid the gun on the sergeant's desk and told him as calm as could be:Quote "Those bastards will never rape anybody again, byGod.";

Cops say convicted rapist and robber Davis Furth, 33, lost both his penis and his testicles when outraged Ava opened fire with a 9-mm pistol in the hotel room where he and former prison cellmate Stanley Thomas, 29, were holed up.The wrinkled avenger also blew Thomas' testicles to kingdom come,but doctors managed to save his mangled penis, police said. The one guy, Thomas, didn't lose his manhood, but the doctor I talked to said he won't be using it the way he used to, Detective Delp told reporters. Both men are still in pretty bad shape, but I think they're just happyto be alive after what they've been through.

The Rambo Granny swung into action August 21st after her granddaughter Debbie was carjacked and raped in broad daylight by two knife-wielding creeps in a section of town bordering on skid row. quote;"When I saw the look on my Debbie's face that night in the hospital, I decided I was going to go out and get those bastards myself 'cause I figured the Law would go easy on them,"; recalled the retired library worker. quot; "And I wasn't scared of them, either--because I've got me a gun and I've been shootin' all my life. And I wasn't dumb enough to turn it in when the law changed about owning one.";

So, using a police artist's sketch of the suspects and Debbie's description of the sickos', tough-as-nails Ava spent seven days prowling the wino-infested neighborhood where the crime took place till she spotted the ill fated rapists entering their flophouse hotel.quot;"I knew it was them the minute I saw 'em, but I shot a picture of'em anyway and took it back to Debbie and she said sure as hell, it was them,"; the oldster recalled. quot;"So I went back to that hotel and found their room and knocked on the door and the minute the big one, Furth, opened the door, I shot 'em right square between the legs, right where it would really hurt 'em most, you know. Then I went in and shot the other one as he backed up pleading to me to spare him. Then I went down to the police station and turned myself in".;

Now, baffled lawmen are trying to figure out exactly how to deal with the vigilante granny. What she did was wrong, and she broke the law, but it is difficult to throw an 81-year-old woman in prison, Det. Delp said, especially when 3 million people in the city want to nominate her for sainthood and a medal

. DEPORT HER TO AMERICA -- WE NEED HER!!!

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

 

ROSEBUDS & HANGING BASKETS

A teenage granddaughter comes downstairs for her date with a very sheer blouse on and no bra.

Her grandmother just pitched a fit, telling her not to dare go out like that!

The teenager tells her "Loosen up Grams. These are modern times. You gotta let your rose buds show!" and out she goes.

The next day the teenager comes down stairs, and the grandmother is sitting there with no top on.

The teenager wants to die. She explains to her grandmother that she has friends coming over and that it is just not appropriate...

The grandmother says, "Loosen up, Sweetie. If you can show off your rosebuds, then I can display my hanging baskets."

Happy Gardening.

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