Better save that. Well need it for the autopsy.



Someone call the janitor – were going to need a mop.



Wait a minute, if this is his spleen, then whats that?



Hand me that…uh…that uh…..thingie.



Oops! Hey, has anyone ever survived 500ml of this stuff before?



Rats, there go the lights again…



Ya know, theres big money in kidneys. Heck, the guys got two of em.



Everybody stand back! I lost my contact lens!



Could you stop that thing from beating? Its throwing my concentration off!



Whats this doing here?



Thats cool! now can you make his leg twitch?!



I wish I hadnt forgotten my glasses.



Well, folks, this will be an experiment for all of us.



Sterile, shcmeril. The floors clean, right?



Anyone see where I left that scalpel?



OK, now take a picture from this angle. This is truly a freak of nature.



Nurse, did this patient sign the organ donation card?



Dont worry. I think it is sharp enough.



Shes gonna blow! Everyone take cover!!!



Rats! Page 47 of the manual is missing!



FIRE! FIRE! Everyone get out

The bus driver said, DAMN! Thats the ugliest baby Ive EVER seen!
In a huff, the woman slammed her fare into the fare box and took an aisle seat near the rear of the bus. She fumed for a few stops and started getting really worked up. The man seated next to her sensed that she was agitated and asked her what was wrong. The bus driver insulted me! she fumed. The man sympathized and said, Hey! Hes a public servant and he shouldnt say things to insult the passengers. Youre right! she said. I think Ill go back up there and give him a piece of my mind. Thats a good idea, the man said. Here, let me hold your monkey.

It was Saturday morning and Jake, an avid hunter, woke up ready to go bag the first deer of the season. He walks down to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, and to his surprise he finds his wife, Alice, sitting there, fully dressed in camouflage. Jake asks her, “What are you up to?” Alice smiles, “Im going hunting with you!” Jake, though he has many reservations, reluctantly decides to take her along. They arrive at the hunting site. Jake sets his wife safely up in the tree stand and tells her: “If you see a deer, take careful aim on it and Ill come running back as soon as I hear the shot.” Jake walks away with a smile on his face knowing that Alice couldnt bag an elephant — much less a deer. But not 10 minutes pass when he is startled as he hears an array of gunshots. Quickly, Jake starts running back. As Jake gets closer to her stand, he hears Alice screaming, “Get away from my deer!” Confused, Jake races faster towards his screaming wife. And again he hears her yell, “Get away from my deer!” followed by another volley of gunfire. Now within sight of where he had left his wife, Jake is surprised to see a cowboy, with his hands high in the air. The cowboy, obviously distraught, says, “Okay, lady, okay!You can have your deer! Just let me get my saddle off it!”

It is believed that the stock markets go up and down with the rise and fall of the hemlines in ladies skirts and dresses. Proof of this phenomenon is in the following historical facts:

Glamour stocks and mini skirts soared in 1993.

Conglomerates and hemlines went down in the spring of 1994.

Hot pants led the Dow Jones up in 1971. The advice to the investor then, is,

Dont sell until you see the heights of their thighs!

What do you have if there are 100 rabbits standing in a row and 99 take a step back?

A receding hare line.

Four nurses all decided to play a joke on the doctor they worked for, whom they all felt was an arrogant jerk. Later in the day, they all got together on break and discussed what they had done to the doctor.

The first nurse said, I stuffed cotton in his stethoscope so he couldnt hear.

The second nurse said, I let the mercury out of his thermometers and painted them all to read 106 degrees.

The third nurse said, Well, I did worse than that. I poked holes in all of the condoms that he keeps in his desk drawer.

The fourth nurse fainted.

The President is meeting with Saddam Hussein regarding the recent crisis. They are meeting in Husseins Baghdad capital, and halfway through the meeting Hussein hits a button on his armrest. A fake arm flies out and hits Clinton in the face.
A little while later he hits another button and Clinton ducks, only to be kicked in the butt. A while later, this happens again. Clinton is angry, calls a break, and they decide to meet again later, in Washington.
When Hussein comes to DC, they sit in Clintons office. A few minutes into the discussions, Clinton hits a button, Hussein ducks, but nothing happens. A few minutes later, Clinton hits another button, Hussein ducks again, but still nothing happens. This happens a third time, and Hussein, by this point, is angry and paranoid.
He gets up and shouts Enough of this! Im going back to Baghdad!
Clinton looks up and displays a funny-looking smirk to the Iraqi leader. Then quite calmly replies, What Baghdad?

Real Programmers dont eat quiche. They like Twinkies, Coke and palate scorching Szechwan food.
Real Programmers dont comment their code. If it was hard to write, it should be hard to understand and harder to modify.
Real Programmers dont document. Documentation is for simpletons who cant read listings or the object code from the dump.
Real Programmers scorn Floating Point Arithmetic. The decimal point was invented for pansy bedwetters who are unable to think big.
Real Programmers programs never work right the first time. But if you throw them on the machine they can be patched into working order in only a few 30-hour debugging sessions.
Real Programmers dont read manuals. Reliance on a reference is the hallmark of the novice and the coward.
Real Programmers dont write application programs. They program right down on the bare metal. Application programming is for the dullards who cant do systems programming.
Real Programmers dont write in RPG. RPG is for gum-chewing dimwits who maintain ancient payroll programs.
Real Programmers dont write in COBOL. COBOL is for COmmon Business Oriented Laymen who cant run a business, not a real program.
Real Programmers dont write in FORTRAN. FORTRAN is for wimp engineers who wear white socks. They get excited over finite state analysis and nuclear reactor simulation.
Real Programmers dont write in PL/I. PL/I is for insecure anal retentives who cant choose between COBOL and FORTRAN.
Real Programmers dont write in BASIC. Actually, no programmers write in BASIC after puberty.
Real Programmers dont write in APL unless the whole program can be written on one line.
Real Programmers dont write in LISP. Only faggot programs contain more parenthesis than actual code.
Real Programmers dont write in Pascal, BLISS, Ada or any of those other sissy computer science languages. Strong typing is a crutch for people with weak memories.
Real Programmers dont write specs. Users should be grateful for whateverthey get; they are lucky to get any programs at all.
Real Programmers dont do flowcharts. Flowcharts are, after all, the illiterates form of documentation. Cavemen drew flowcharts; look how much good it did them.
Real Programmers never work 9 to 5. If any Real Programmers are around at 9 AM, its because they were up all night.
Real Programmers never write memos on paper. They send memos via MAIL.
Real Programmers like vending-machine popcorn. Coders pop it in microwave ovens. Real Programmers use the heat given off by the CPU. They can tell which jobs are running just by listening to the rate of popping.
Real Programmers disdain structured programming. Structured programming is for compulsive neurotics who were prematurely toilet-trained. They wear neckties and carefully line up sharp pencils on an otherwise clear desk.
Real Programmers dont play tennis, or any other sport which requires a change of clothes. Mountain climbing is OK, and Real Programmers wear climbing boots to work in case a mountain should suddenly spring up in the middle of the machine room.
Real Programmers dont like the Team Programming concept. Unless, of course they are the Chief Programmer.
Real Programmers have no use for managers. Managers are a necessary evil. They exist only to deal with personnel bozos, bean counters, senior planners and other mental defectives.
Real Programmers dont drive clapped-out Mavericks. They prefer BMWs, Lincolns, or Pickup trucks with floor shifts. Fast motorcycles are highly regarded.
Real Programmers dont believe in schedules. Planners make up schedules. Managers firm up schedules. Frightened coders strive to meet schedules. Real Programmers ignore schedules.
Real Programmers know every nuance of every instruction and use them all in every Real Program. Candyass architects wont allow Execute instructions to address another Execute as the target instruction. Real Programmers despise petty restrictions.
Real Programmers dont bring brown-bag lunches. If the vending machine sells it, they eat it. If the vending machine doesnt sell it, they dont eat it. Vending machines dont sell quiche.

During the French Revolution, three professionals were arrested and convicted of having bourgeois values. They were a doctor, a lawyer, and an engineer.

They were to be led to the guillotine one by one. The crowd was roaring with anticipated pleasure.

First up was the doctor. How dare he enrich himself through other peoples illnesses? Access to basic health care is a right, right?

The doctor was placed in the guillotine, and the lanyard was yanked. The blade started on its massive, implacable way down. And lurched to a stop.

The official in charge declared that it would be inhumane to make the doctor suffer this way more than once, so he was setting the doctor free. The crowd howled.

The executioner checked his equipment. All was in order. He put a small tree branch in, and successfully lopped it in half. He re-sharpened the blade.

Next up was the lawyer. Who needs an excuse to wish such a lying, cheating scoundrel dead? The crowd was thunderous in its applause.

The lawyer was placed in the guillotine, and the lanyard was yanked. Again, the blade stopped part-way down! The presiding official once again said that he would set this prisoner free because of the unusual circumstances. The crowd screamed in frustration.

Now came the engineer, a man whose innovations and devices were costing jobs. The crowd fell silent. The executioner checked and re-checked his equipment.

As the engineer was marched up to the guillotine, he looked carefully at it, and said, Wait. I see your problem.