Ya mamma is like traintracks….

She gets laid around the country!

Hello, and welcome to the mental health hotline……

If you are obsessive-compulsive, press 1 repeatedly.

If you are co-dependent, please ask someone to press 2 for you.

If you have multiple personalities, press 3, 4, 5, and 6.

If you are paranoid, we know who you are and what you want. Stay on the line so we can trace your call.

If you are delusional, press 7 and we will transfer your call to the mother ship.

If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully and a small voice will tell you which number to press.

If you are a manic-depressive, it doesnt matter which number you press, no one will answer.

If you are dyslexic, press 9696969696969696.

If you have a nervous disorder, please fidget with the pound key until a representative comes on the line.

If you have amnesia, press 8 and state your name, address, telephone number, date of birth, social security number, and your mothers maiden name.

If you have post-traumatic stress disorder, s-l-o-w-l-y and c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y press 0 0 0.

If you have bi-polar disorder, please leave a message after the beep or before the beep or after the beep. Please wait for the beep.

If you have short-term memory loss, press 9.

If you have short-term memory loss, press 9.

If you have short-term memory loss, press 9.

If you have short-term memory loss, press 9.

If you have low self-esteem, please hang up. Our operators are too busy to talk to you.

If you are menopausal, hang up, turn on the fan, lay down and cry. You wont be crazy forever.

If you are blonde dont press any buttons, youll just mess it up.

Un hombre y una mujer que no se conocían, coinciden en el mismo compartimiento de coche cama de un tren. A pesar de la obvia incomodidad que provoca la situación, y de las protestas de la mujer ante el guardia del tren, quien le explica que el convoy va lleno y no dispone de otro camarote, ambos finalmente ocupan el camarote y sus respectivas literas, el hombre en la superior y ella en la inferior. A media noche el hombre despierta a la mujer y le dice:

Lamento molestarla pero tengo un frío tremendo, ¿podría alcanzarme una de las mantas que están apiladas junto a la puerta?

La mujer se asoma entre las cortinas de la litera y guiñándole el ojo a su compañero de camarote le dice:

Tengo una idea mejor, sólo por esta noche supongamos que estamos casados… ¿te gustaría?

El hombre, sin poder creer lo que oyó, exclama:

¡Pero claro, mi vida, claro!

Y la mujer responde:

¡Pues entonces… bájate y agarrala tu, pinche huevón!

Estaban trabajando un grupo bastante grande de ilegales en un campo en los Estados Unidos, cuando de pronto llegó la migra con dos camiones para llevarse a los pobres ilegales, y pues que se echan a correr todos para esconderse, menos uno, que al contrario de todos, salió corriendo pero hacia los camiones de la migra, llegó a uno, se subió y se sentó rápido. El oficial de migración que manejaba el camión, todo sacado de onda por lo que veía le preguntó:

¿Por qué tu no corriste como tus demás compañeros a esconderte?

Y el ilegal todo cansado por la corrida que pegó le contesta:

Pues la verdad es que ustedes ya me han agarrado cinco veces y las cinco pinches veces me he ido parado hasta Tijuana…

Last summer, down on Lake Isabella, located in the high desert an hour east of Bakersfield, CA, a blonde, new to boating was having a problem. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldnt get her brand new 22 ft Bayliner to perform. It wouldnt get on a plane at all, and it was very sluggish in almost every maneuver, no matter how much power she applied.

After about an hour of trying to make it go, she putted over to a nearby marina. Maybe they could tell her what was wrong.



A thorough topside check revealed everything was in perfect working order. The engine ran fine, the outdrive went up and down, and the prop was the correct size and pitch. So, one of the marina guys jumped in the water to check underneath the boat. He came up choking on water, he was laughing so hard. Under the boat, still strapped securely in place, was the trailer.

It is easier to take it apart than to put it back together.

What do you call a Mexican who has had a vasectomy?

– Dry Martino.

Well, this day was a total waste of makeup.

Well, arent we just a ray of f***ing sunshine?

Make yourself at home! Clean my kitchen.

Not the brightest crayon in the box now, are we?

A hard-on doesnt count as personal growth?

Dont bother me. Im living happily ever after.

This isnt an office; its hell with fluorescent lighting.

I started out with nothing and I still have most of it left.

I pretend to work, they pretend to pay me.

Therapy is expensive; popping bubble-wrap is cheap. You choose.

I like cats too. Lets exchange recipes.

If I want to hear the pitter patter of little feet, Ill put shoes on my cat.

Did the aliens forget to remove your anal probe?

Errors have been made. Others will be blamed.

And your crybaby, whiny-arsed opinion would be…?

See no evil, hear no evil, date no evil.

Allow me to introduce myselves.

Sarcasm is just one more service we offer.

Better living through denial.

Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed.

[Ed: Inspired by the recent discussion on how to get a computer that blows
up the way movie computers do. ]

A small step was taken toward this end back in the early sixties, in IBMs
System/360 model 30 CE school. Seems one of the better students had time
enough to pore over the schematics and discover which cores (remember core
memory?) were located just beneath the overtemp sensor. He wrote a small
program that did nothing but abuse those particular cores by writing ones
and zeroes alternately to them, until they heated up, and the temperature
sensor shut down the machine.

First, of course, the program printed out Programmed Power Down on the
console. Caused a lot of bewilderment among the students and instructors.
Especially since the big feature being touted about the S/360 was that it
was so oriented to multiprogramming that it didnt even have a HALT
instruction.

This political joke is from the book From Beirut to Jerusalem, by
Thomas Friedman.

A minister goes to the Syrian dictator Hafez Assad after a national election.

Minister: I have excellent news, Mr. President! You won 98.6% of the
vote in the election! Less than 2 percent of the people dissented!
What more could you possibly want?

Assad: Their names.