A Texas business man, while in Japan for some business meetings and a few rounds of golf, arrived in Tokyo a day earlier than expected. Feeling lonely that evening, he employed the services of a beautiful young Japanese girl to be his companion for the evening. Although the Japanese girl spoke very little English and the businessman spoke no Japanese, their passion roared and in the heat of the moment she began yelling Gama Su!, Gama Su!. Hearing this, the Texan knew he had pleased his female Japanese friend and soon afterwards went to sleep.
The next day while playing golf with his Japanese business colleagues, one of his Japanese partners holed his shot from 170 yards away! Everyone went crazy and began yelling excitedly in Japanese. Wanting to impress his friends, the Texan joined in and began yelling, Gama Su! Gama Su!
Suddenly everyone became quiet. After a moment of silence, one of the Japanese turned to him and asked Wrong hole? What do you mean wrong hole?
Son:Dad, I have to do a special report for school. Can I ask you a question?
Father: Sure son. Whats the question?
Son: What is politics?
Father: Well, lets take our home for example. I am the wage earner, so lets call me Capitalism. Your mother is the administrator of money, so well call her Government. We take care of your needs, so well call you The People. Well call the maid The Working Class, and your baby brothe we can call The Future.
Do you understand, Son?
Son: Im not really sure, Dad. Ill have to think about it.
That night, awakened by his baby brothers crying, the boy went to see what was wrong. Discovering that the baby had seriously soiled his diaper, the boy went to his parents room and found his mother sound asleep. He went to the maids room, where, peeking through the keyhole, he saw his father in bed with the maid. The boys knocking went totally unheeded by his father and the maid, so the boy returned to his room and went back to sleep.
The next morning he reported to his father. Dad, now I think I understand what politics is.
Father: Good son! Can you explain it to me in your own words?
Son: Well Dad, while Capitalism is screwing the Working Class, Government is sound asleep, the People are being completely ignored and the Future is full of shit.
Lets see if I understand how the world works lately …
If a woman burns her thighs on the hot coffee she was holding in her lap while driving, she blames the restaurant.
If your teen-age son kills himself, you blame the rock n roll music or musician he liked.
If you smoke three packs a day for 40 years and die of lung cancer, your family blames the tobacco company.
If your daughter gets pregnant by the football captain you blame the school for poor sex education.
If your neighbour crashes into a tree while driving home drunk, you blame the bartender.
If your cousin gets AIDS because the needle he used to shoot up with heroin was dirty, you blame the government for not providing clean ones.
If your grandchildren are brats without manners, you blame television.
If your friend is shot by a deranged madman, you blame the gun manufacturer.
And if a crazed person breaks into the cockpit and tries to kill the pilots at 35,000 feet, and the passengers kill him instead, the mother of the deceased blames the airline.
I must have lived too long to understand the world as it is anymore. So if I die while my old, wrinkled ass is parked in front of this computer, I want you to blame Bill Gates, OK?
Windows2000 Chicken: Will cross the road in June. No, August. September for sure. OS/2 Chicken: It crossed the road in style years ago, but it was so quiet that nobody noticed.Windows ME Chicken: You see different colored feathers while it crosses, but cook it and it still tastes like … chicken. Microsoft Chicken (TM): Its already on both sides of the road. And it just bought the road. Microsoft Chicken (TM): After noticing that it is the only chicken to successfully cross the road, the US DOJ declares then the Microsoft Chicken (TM) is a 900 pound gorilla, not a chicken, and wants to divide it into several smaller gorillas and place them in the middle of the road hoping traffic will run them down… Netscape Chicken: Stands in the middle of the road loudly squawking about how the Microsoft Chicken is keeping it from crossing the road. Apple Macintosh Chicken: Crossed the road long ago and still claims to be the first chicken that we could actually see cross the road. BASIC Chicken – has crossed the road many more times than any of the other chickens – and constantly complains about how…in my day we didnt have 21 SVGA or 17 Flat panel monitors, we had crappy black and white TV sets AND WE LIKED IT!…in my day we expressed RAM in BYTES, we thought megabyte was something you did when you were hungry.. Pascal Chicken – After all these years, still faithfully helping the farm kids get enough confidence to hold hands with a C Chicken and cross the road. OOP Chicken: It doesnt need to cross the road, it just sends a message. Assembler Chicken: First it builds the road … C Chicken: It crosses the road without looking both ways C++ Chicken: The chicken wouldnt have to cross the road, youd simply refer to him on the other side. VB Chicken: nzHighways!TheRoad.cross (aChicken) Delphi Chicken: The chicken is dragged across the road and dropped on the other side. Java Chicken: If your road needs
A man walks into the front door of a bar. He is obviously drunk and staggers up to the bar, seats himself on a stool and, with a belch, asks the bartender for a drink. The bartender politely informs the man that it appears he has already had plenty to drink and that he could not be served additional liquor. The bartender offers to call a cab for him.
The drunk is briefly surprised, then softly scoffs, grumbles, climbs down from the bar stool, and staggers out the front door. A few minutes later, the same drunk stumbles in the side door of the bar. He wobbles up to the bar and hollers for a drink. The bartender comes over and – still politely if not more firmly – refuses service to the man and again offers to call a cab. The drunk looks at the bartender for a moment angrily, curses, and shows himself out the side door, all the while grumbling and shaking his head.
A few minutes later, the same drunk bursts in through the back door of the bar. He plops himself up on a bar stool, gathers his wits and belligerently orders a drink. The bartender comes over and emphatically reminds the man that he is drunk and will be served no drinks. He then tells him that he can either call a cab or the police immediately.
The surprised drunk looks at the bartender and in hopeless anguish cries, Man! How many bars do you work at?
Joke found on http://www.poddys.com
Did you ever stop to wonder what would happen if your dogs name was Mypenis?
– Mypenis ate my homework.
– Oh, no! Mypenis is frothing at the mouth!
– Sorry Im late. I was playing with Mypenis.
– Im sorry, Officer. I didnt realize I had to keep Mypenis on a leash.
– Mypenis doesnt come when I call it.
– Mypenis likes to crawl between the legs of guests.
– I love giving Mypenis a bath.
– At night, I sleep with Mypenis in my hands.
– Mypenis likes it when people pet him.
– Mypenis needs to get more exercise. He weighs over fifty pounds.
– Playing with Mypenis really wears me out.
– Would you like to see a picture of Mypenis?
– Sometimes I wake up, and Mypenis is already active.
– I think Mypenis has a mind of its own.
– I keep a picture of Mypenis in my wallet.
– Whenever I get lost, Mypenis points me in the right direction.
– I think Mypenis is getting old because he wont get excited anymore. He just plays dead.
– Mypenis got out last night. I think hes sleeping with the lady next door.
– If Mypenis was a weiner dog, he would be long and hairy and hard to carry.
– Mypenis loves to chase pussies in dark alleys.
– Help! I cant find Mypenis!
– Sorry to be driving so slow, officer, but I was looking forMypenis.
– Mypenis gets excited whenever the mailman comes.
– Sorry to be driving so fast, officer – I have to take Mypenis to the hospital.
– Oh. no! Something bit Mypenis!
– Watch it or youll step on Mypenis.
– When Mypenis behaves well, he gets a bone.
– Stop kicking Mypenis.
– When riding in the car, Mypenis enjoys sticking his head out to be blown.
– Mypenis is truly mans best friend.
– Beware of Mypenis. Hes carrying a disease.
– People say Mypenis looks cute lying down, but even better when standing at attention.
– Mypenis: the crotch-sniffer.
– Theres nothing like a well-trained bitch for Mypenis.
– Ive trained Mypenis to jump through hoops.
– Mypenis always searches for an open hand under the dinner table.
– Excuse me – I need a muzzle for Mypenis.
– Sorry Im late, but Mypenis kept me up howling all night…
There are approximately two billion children (persons under 18) in the world.
However, since Santa does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, or Buddhist (except maybe in Japan) religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million (according to the population reference bureau).
At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that comes to 108 million homes, presuming there is at least one good child in each.
Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming east to west (which seems logical).
This works out to 967.7 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has around 1/1000th of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh and get onto the next house.
Assuming that each of these 108 million stops is evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are not talking about 0.78 miles per household; a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks.
This means Santas sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second – 3,000 times the speed of sound.
For purposes of comparison, the fastest man made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a pokey 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer can run (at best) 15 miles per hour.
The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium sized LEGO set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousand tons, not counting Santa himself.
On land, a conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that flying reindeer can pull 10 times the normal amount, the job cant be done with eight or even nine of them -Santa would need 360,000 of them.
This increases the payload, not counting the weight of the sleigh, another 54,000 tons, or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch).
A mass of nearly 600,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance – this would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft re-entering the earths atmosphere.
The lead pair of reindeer would absorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each. In short, they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake.
The entire reindeer team would be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second, or right about the time Santa reaches the fifth house on his trip.
Not that it matters, however, since Santa, as a result of accelerating from a dead stop to 650 m.p.s. in .001 seconds, would be subjected to acceleration forces of 17,000 gs.
A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim considering all the high calorie snacks he must have consumed over the years) would be pinned to the back of the sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, instantly crushing his bones and organs and reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo.
Therefore, if Santa did exist, hes dead now. MERRY CHISTMAS!!!
Jesus was worried about the drug epidemic plaguing the world. In an effort to solve this dilemma, he decided that a few apostles would return to earth and fetch a sample of each drug, so they could understand what these substances did.
Two days after the operation is implemented, the disciples begin to return. Jesus, waiting at the door, lets in each disciple: Who is it? Its Mark Jesus opens the door. What did you bring Mark? Marijuana from Colombia Very well son, come in. Another soft knock is heard. Who is it? Its Matthew Jesus opens the door. What did you bring Matthew? Cocaine from Bolivia Very well son, come in. At the next knock Jesus asks, Who is it? Its John Jesus opens the door. What did you bring John? Crack from New York Very well son, come in. Someone starts pounding on the door. Who is it? Its Judas Jesus opens the door. What did you bring Judas? FREEZE! THIS IS THE FBI!
My girlfriend and I had been dating for over a year when we decided to get married. My parents helped us in every way, and my friends encouraged me. My girlfriend? She was a dream! There was only one thing bothering me. That one thing was her younger sister.
My prospective sister-in-law was twenty years of age, wore tight miniskirts, and low cut blouses. She would regularly bend down when near me, and I got many a pleasant view of her thong underwear. It had to be deliberate. She never did it when she was near anyone else.
One day little sister calls and asked me to come over to check the wedding invitations. She was alone when I arrived.
She whispered to me that soon I was to be married, and she had feelings and desires for me that she could not overcome and did not really want to overcome. She told me that she wanted to make love to me just once before I got married and committed my life to her sister.
I was in total shock and could not say a word. She said, Im going upstairs to my bedroom, and if you want to go ahead with it just come up and get me. I was stunned. I was frozen in shock as I watched her go up the stairs. When she reached the top, she pulled down her panties and threw them down the stairs at me.
I stood there for a moment, then turned and went straight to the front door. I opened the door and stepped out of the house and walked straight toward my car.
My future mother & father-in-laws were standing outside. With tears in his eyes he hugged me and said, We are very happy that you have passed our little test. We could not ask for a better man for our daughter. Welcome to the family!
The moral of this story is:
Always keep your condoms in your car.
One day, little Mikey came home from kindergarden and couldnt find his mother. So he headed upstairs and opened her bedroom door.
To his surprize, he saw his dad stripped naked on top of his mom, who was also naked, both heavily into the sexual act. Not wanting to traumatize the boy, the parents continued to do what they were doing.
After a couple of minutes, Mikey asked, Daddy, can I climb on top and have a horsey ride?
The dad thinks for a second, Of course son, were a family.
After a couple more minutes his mother starts moaning and writing wildly.
Hang on Dad! cries Mikey, This is where me and the mailman usually fall off!