Old and New Jokes

Heres the transcript of my recent communication to Bigelow, inspired by a
sampling of their atrocious I Love Lemon Herb Tea.

Dear Sirs,

I am writing to complain about the performance of one of your products, to
wit: Bigelow I Love Lemon Herb Tea. Having recently sampled said item in a
culinary context, I am convinced that it is the most unappealing, tasteless, and
unprofessional tea I have ever encountered.

Each teabag is enveloped in a package that reads A year-round valentine
for everyone who really loves lemon. Well, I happen to be an ardent
enthusiast for that particular flavor, and I can assure you that this alleged
tea tastes less like lemon than most electric home appliances. The only way
this substance could be considered a year-round valentine is by taking the
meaning of valentine as a heart, which, if left out in the open for a
year, would be encrusted with congealed blood and covered with small,
creeping insects.

This tea breaks all previously-conceived boundaries of the concept bland. It
invokes in the drinker a level of excitement usually associated with shoelace
collections or counting ones own armpit hairs. I notice that the tea is
classified as as Herb Tea rather than an Herbal Tea, and that Herb has
traditionally been a name denoting banal, tedious people. Another tumbler of
the Bigelow corporate lock falls into place.

The outer wrapper of the teabag – whose taste may be compared favorably to
that of the tea itself – is colored yellow. One may conjecture that this
represents some twisted attempt to conjure associations with other objects
that R.C. Bigelow, Inc. regards as the paradigm of tastiness, such as fire
hydrants, old math textbooks, and yield signs. A quick glance at the
packages of some of your other herbal tea products confirms our suspicions.
One tea package depicts a small cat, playfully clawing a ball or mouse or
small child, while your propagandistic legend assures us the paragon of
beverages is contained within. What sort of baldfaced nonsequitor is this?
The only thing a cat and tea have in common is that one dislikes being
immersed in the other. Clearly, your marketing skills are equivalent to your
prowess at teamaking, which is probably on level with the cats.

In short, I find I Love Lemon Herb Tea a thoroughly detestable product, and
recommend changing its name to I Used To Love Lemon Until I Drank This Herb
Tea. In view of its exceeding worthlessness as a viable drink, it is difficult
not to inductively extend this condemnation to include the entire product line
of R.C. Bigelow, Inc. However, if I were sent a free sample of each of your
other tea products, I might be able to constrain my loathing to this
particular specimen, and not gallop through the streets of Pittsburgh howling
obscenities about your company and your activities, which, as you know, it
exceedingly deleterious to healthy public relations.

Sincerely,

Michael Shapiro

They responded promptly, within a week:

Dear Mr. Shapiro:

I must say your letter was one of the more descriptive letters we have
received. It is always unfortunate when ever we have a dissatisfied consumer
and normally we will send them free coupons in order to try and better
satisfy their needs with many of our other products. However, in your case I
feel you have reached a point of no return. My only recommendation to you is
try Celestial Seasonings, they offer a very nice lemon tea. Perhaps they will
have better luck pleasing you.

Thank you for taking the time to share with us your tremendous displeasure.
We continually try to improve our products, and each letter does mean a great
deal to us.

Sincerely,

Ms. Bigelow
Operations Manager

* * * *

The letter was accompanied by a generous portion of No Tea. I was rather
hoping that theyd send me a sample.

The irony is that Im actually very fond of Bigelow tea products. I really
just wanted to see what theyd say.

This guy is walking through Chinatown. He is fascinated with all the Chinese Restaurants, the Chinese shops, the Chinese signs and banners on the buildings. He is having the best time just walking and looking. He turns a corner and sees a building with a sign Hans Olaffsens Laundry.

Hans Olaffsen?, he thinks. How in the world does that fit in here?. So, he walks into the shop and sees an old Chinese gentleman sitting in the corner.. The visitor asks, How in the world did this place get a name like Hans Olaffsens Laundry?.

The old man answers Is name of owner. The visitor asks Well, who in the heck is the owner?. I am he, answers the old man. You? How in the heck did you ever get a name like Hans Olaffsen?

The old man replies, Many years ago when I come to this country, I was standing in line at Documentation Center. Man in front of me was big blonde Swede. Lady look at him and go What your name? He say Hans Olaffsen. She look at me…What your name? I say Sam Ting.

(Sam Ting= same thing)

Young Ahmed Ben Bella loved all kinds of beans, and this understandably gave him embarrassing problems with flatulence. Out in the desert this did not matter – except to his camel, who sometimes dragged his nose in the sand after one of Ahmed Ben Bellas more worthy efforts. But, in his village Ahmed Ben Bella often brought shame upon himself and his family when he could not control himself.

One day Ahmed Ben Bella felt a mighty fart coming on. He was in the middle of the marketplace and made every effort to get through the great throng so as to not disgrace himself. But, as fate would have it, Ahmed Ben Bellas efforts were for naught. And, it was a mighty fart indeed: it blew over several of the shopkeepers stalls and dropped no fewer than three donkeys to their knees.

There was nothing to do but leave his home village in disgrace, and for fifty years Ahmed Ben Bella roamed the earth, hoping that the shame he had brought down upon himself would be forgotten. Finally, as an old, old man, Ahmed Ben Bella returned to the place of his birth. As he approached the outskirts of his town his boyhood memories came back to him. He saw a young man coming along the road the opposite way, and he asked him, Tell me, young neighbor, is dear old Akmed Khan doing well?

And the young man said, Oh, no, sir. The honored Akmed Khan died thirty-three years, four months, and two days after Ahmed Ben Bella cut the great fart in the marketplace.

A young lady went to a dance,and she had a low-cut, strapless gown on. Around her neck she wore a little golden airplane on a long chain. All night she noticed a young man staring at her.

In her embarrassment, she held up the airplane and said, Oh, you like my airplane, huh?

The young man smiled mischievously. No maam, I was just admiring the landing field.

You just bought your family their lst Atari game system.

You and your wife celebrate your anniversay at the K-mart cafeteria.

You think the only tools real men need are duck tape and caulk, and you have sucessful repair projects to prove it.

No matter what happens, there is always somebody who knew that it would.

A Washington Post/ABC News poll reveals that more than 80% of Americans favor major changes in the way elections are conducted.

Chage number one BETTER CANDIDATES!

One night a wife found her husband standing over their newborn babys crib. Silently she watched him. As he stood looking down at the sleeping infant, she saw on his face a mixture of emotions: disbelief, doubt, delight, amazement, enchantment, skepticism.

Touched by this unusual display and the deep emotions it aroused, with the eyese glistening she slipped her arms around her husband.

A penny for your thoughts, she whispered in his ear.

Its amazing! he replied. I Just cant see how anybody can make a crib like that for only $46.50!

This one man comes to America from a foreign country. He is at a baseball game for the first time. While he is sitting in the stands, he sees a man hit a ball and then run. He notices everyone get up and start to scream run. So the next time someone hits the ball he stands up and says run ya bastard run. Now that he got the hang of it he did this every time the ball was hit. A few minutes later he sees a guy lay down the bat and walk towards first base, so he gets up and says run ya bastard run. Every one started to laugh. He sat down in embarrassment and a man kindly leaned over his shoulder and said he doesnt have to run. The man replied why not? He said because hes got four balls. So the foreign man stood up and said . . .walk with pride my boy!