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A little Friday humour


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Tough year so far, but I made it !!!




But not everyone is as lucky as I am.....


The economy is so bad that: I got a pre-declined credit card in the mail.

I ordered a burger at McDonald's and the kid behind the counter asked, "Can you afford fries with that?"

CEO's are now playing miniature golf.

If the bank returns your check marked "Insufficient Funds," you call them and ask if they meant you or them.

Hot Wheels and Matchbox stocks are trading higher than GM.

McDonald's is selling the 1/4 ouncer.

Parents in Beverly Hills fired their nannies and learned their children's names.

A truckload of Americans was caught sneaking into Mexico.

Dick Cheney took his stockbroker hunting.

Motel Six won't leave the light on anymore.

The Mafia is laying off judges.

Exxon-Mobil laid off 25 Congressmen.


Congress says they are looking into this Bernard Madoff scandal. Oh Great!! The guy who made $50 Billion disappear is being investigated by the people who made $1.5 Trillion disappear!


And, finally...


I was so depressed last night thinking about the economy, wars, jobs, my savings, Social Security, retirement funds, etc., I called the Suicide Lifeline. I got a call center in Pakistan, and when I told them I was suicidal, they got all excited, and asked if I could drive a truck.

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A Homeless Man's Funeral


As a bagpiper, I play many gigs. Recently I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man. He had no family or friends, so the service was to be at a pauper's cemetery in the Northland back country. As I was not familiar with the backwoods, I got lost and, being a typical man, I didn't stop for directions.


I finally arrived an hour late and saw the funeral guy had evidently gone and the hearse was nowhere in sight. There were only the diggers and crew left and they were eating lunch. I felt badly and apologized to the men for being late. I went to the side of the grave and looked down and the vault lid was already in place. I didn't know what else to do, so I started to play.

The workers put down their lunches and began to gather around. I played out my heart and soul for this man with no family and friends. I played like I've never played before for this homeless man. And as I played 'Amazing Grace,' the workers began to weep. They wept, I wept, we all wept together.

When I finished I packed up my bagpipes and started for my car. Though my head hung low, my heart was full. As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers say, "I never seen nothin' like that before and I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years."


Apparently I'm still lost....










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Whilst drunk over dinner the other night, us boys thought it a good idea to go away on a boys weekend without wives.

Sasha's wife decided it wasn't such a great idea. So after we smashed Sasha about it, he told us to take it up with Vanessa direct.


Below is the email we sent Sasha's wife this evening. I found this to be hilarious, and thought I would share it.




Dear Vanessa


We have recently noticed some serious issues with your husbands general demeanour and can no longer consider ourselves true friends and stand by idly watching his decline. Let us get straight to the point. Symptoms of concern include:


- making statements like: "honey will i like this?" before ordering at a restaurant,

- making statements like: "do i have to come out, i'm re-calibrating my I-pad",

- thinking that male bonding involves sharing user-tips about his I-phone,

- developing an unnatural interest in politics,

- starting to look like Tony Abbott.


Having closely studied and then conferred about these symptoms we have determined him to be a douchebag. Perhaps you have noticed corroborating symptoms in the home?


In order to avail him of his best chance of cure we are willing to invest some time and take him into an environment that may correct this recent malaise.


Specifically, it is our recommendation that Sasha undertake a mancation without delay (no a mancursion will not do - his case is too far gone for that). While we appreciate that you are no doubt aware of the curative potential of the mancation for douchebagness (such as has without a shadow of doubt inflicted your dear man) allow me to review some of the key-findings with regards the ubiquity and purpose of the mancation:


- (in a recent survey it was found that) about 34% of male respondents take at least one mancation every year,

- a gender specific trip has "been around since the first caveman took his club and went hunting with the others in the tribe,

- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mancation#cite_note-Clark-0men tend to create 'micro affinity groups' in childhood, college, or grad school, and these groups often take trips together.


(source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mancation)


It is our opinion, that since leaving his childhood micro affinity group he has progressed gradually, yet deeply into a sort of, well, 'poofness', which we can only ascribe to the absence of the previously customary beatings provided by his micro affinity group. We wish to return him to his natural habitat where we will attempt to re-produce the the sort of environment that originally enabled his testes to drop.


Vanessa - we understand times are tough - but as you are aware pecuniary interests can not take precedence when it comes to restoring the very maleness of your now eunuch-like man-child. If you would wire $1000 immediately we aim to have him treated, hopefully cured and eventually repatriated with you in due course. We are confident Brandon (who is no doubt already experiencing deep confusion about why he has two mothers) and you alike will be ever grateful to us for our foresight about this matter.


On behalf of the board,

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A well-known rally driver has embarked on a much-publicised attempt to cross the Sandy Desert in his vintage HQ. On the third evening, he is seen in a pub - way beyond the Black Stump, in a "town" that consists of one garage and one pub.


An old drover recognises him and over a beer strikes up a conversation:

"What gets you into this god-forsaken hell hole?" he askes the rally driver.

The answer: "Piston broke."


"Me too, mate. Me too" replies the drover

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