194 replies to this topic

[esther231]

"I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect. I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves! Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Bonsai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of spectacular... He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage! Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing... I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH! Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and on amazing impact, he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather antisocial and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in .. well .. I just plain screamed. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder. With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle... my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser. About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however. The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment), so her front end started to drop. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse. Finally I got the upper hand ... I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked ... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of .so to speak. Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car. I heard screams. They weren't mine... I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to 'fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really... Except for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street, aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car. So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car ... but it was all his. I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a whole lot of Band-Aids."

[mss]

Thanks for the link esther231. A great squirrel story. I have another if I can find it. Some people do not know just how mean they can be.
mss

[Rogerdodger]

My how TV has changed in 50 years!





Jack Paar's Water Closet Joke - One of the early classic moments in television censorship occurred when late night talk show host Jack Paar walked off his NBC program after the network censors nixed a somewhat randy (for the times) bathroom joke. The joke was based on the misinterpretation of the initials W.C. --an English lady thinking it was a "water closet" and the Swiss schoolmaster thinking she meant "Wayside Chapel." The NBC censors thought the joke was dirty and cut it from the February 10, 1960 broadcast without consulting with Paar. When Paar discovered that his four-minute story had been cut, he later walked off in the middle of the live show. As he said "I've been up thirty hours without an ounce of sleep wrestling with my conscience all day. I've made a decision about what I'm going to do. I'm leaving THE TONIGHT SHOW. There must be a better way to make a living than this, a way of entertaining people without being constantly involved in some form of controversy. I love NBC, and they've been wonderful to me. But they let me down." The joke that caused all of the controversy is printed below:

"An English lady, while visiting Switzerland, was looking for a room, and she asked the schoolmaster if he could recommend any to her. He took her to see several rooms, and when everything was settled, the lady returned to her home to make the final preparations to move. When she arrived home, the thought suddenly occurred to her that she had not seen a "W.C." [water closet, a euphemism for bathroom] around the place. So she immediately wrote a note to the schoolmaster asking him if there were a "W.C." around. The schoolmaster was a very poor student of English, so he asked the parish priest if he could help in the matter. Together they tired to discover the meaning of the letters "W.C.," and the only solution they could find for the letters was letters was a Wayside Chapel. The schoolmaster then wrote to the English lady the following note:

Dear Madam:

I take great pleasure in informing you that the W.C. is situated nine miles from the house you occupy, in the center of a beautiful grove of pine trees surrounded by lovely grounds. It is capable of holding 229 people and it is open on Sunday and Thursday only. As there are a great number of people and they are expected during the summer months, I would suggest that you come early: although there is plenty of standing room as a rule. You will no doubt be glad to hear that a good number of people bring their lunch and make a day of it. While others who can afford to go by car arrive just in time. I would especially recommend that your ladyship go on Thursday when there is a musical accompaniment. It may interest you to know that my daughter was married in the W.C. and it was there that she met her husband. I can remember the rush there was for seats. There were ten people to a seat ordinarily occupied by one. It was wonderful to see the expression on their faces. The newest attraction is a bell donated by a wealthy resident of the district. It rings every time a person enters. A bazaar is to be held to provide plush seats for all the people, since they feel it is a long felt need. My wife is rather delicate, so she can't attend regularly. I shall be delighted to reserve the best seat for you if you wish, where you will be seen by all. For the children, there is a special time and place so that they will not disturb the elders. Hoping to have been of service to you, I remain,

Sincerely,

The Schoolmaster."

Prompted by a newspaper column written by John Crosby entitled "The Fall of Jack Paar" that reported that Jack Paar was washed up on television, Paar returned to the show on March 7th, strolled onstage, struck a pose, and looked right into the camera. "As I was saying," he said "before I was interrupted. Of course, the (audience erupted in applause. He continued, "When I walked off, I said there must be a better way of making a living. Well I've looked and there isn't.

[esther231]

A woman takes a lover home during the day while her husband is at work. Her 9-year old son comes home unexpectedly, sees them and hides in the bedroom closet to watch. The woman's husband also comes home. She puts her lover in the closet, not realizing that the little boy is in there already. The little boy says, "Dark in here." The man says, "Yes, it is." Boy: "I have a baseball." Man: "That's nice" Boy: "Want to buy it?" Man: "No, thanks." Boy: "My Dad's outside." Man: "OK, how much?" Boy: "$250" In the next few weeks, it happens again that the boy and the lover are in the closet together. Boy: "Dark in here." Man: "Yes, it is." Boy: "I have a baseball glove." The lover, remembering the last time, asks the boy, "How much?" Boy: "$750" Man: "Sold." A few days later, the Dad says to the boy, "Grab your glove, let's go outside and have a game of catch." The boy says, "I can't, I sold my baseball and my glove." The Dad asks, "How m uch did you sell them for?" Boy: "$1,000" The Dad says, "That's terrible to over charge your friends like that...that is way more than those two things cost. I'm taking you to church, to confession." They go to the church and the Dad makes the little boy sit in the confessional booth and closes the door. The boy says, "Dark in here." The priest says, "Don't start that [bleeeep] again; you're in my closet now."

[mss]

Girl Potato and Boy Potato had eyes for each other, and finally
they got married, and had a little sweet potato, which they called
'Yam.'
Of course, they wanted the best for Yam. When it was time, they
told her about the facts of life. They warned her about going out and
getting half-baked, so she wouldn't get accidentally mashed, and get a
bad name for herself like 'Hot Potato,' and end up with a bunch of
Tater Tots.

Yam said not to worry, no Spud would get her into the sack and
make a rotten potato out of her! But on the other hand she wouldn't
stay home and become a Couch Potato either. She would get plenty of
exercise so as not to be skinny like her Shoestring cousins.

When she went off to Europe, Mr. and Mrs. Potato told Yam to watch
out for the hard-boiled guys from Ireland. And the greasy guys from
France called the French Fries. And when she went out west, to watch
out for the Indians so she wouldn't get scalloped.

Yam said she would stay on the straight and narrow and wouldn't
associate with those high class Yukon Golds, or the ones from the
other side of the tracks who advertise their trade on all the trucks
that say, 'Frito Lay.'

Mr. and Mrs. Potato sent Yam to Idaho P.U. (that's
PotatoUniversity) so that when she graduated she'd really be in the
Chips. But in spite of all they did for her, one-day Yam came home and
announced she was going to marry Tom Brokaw
Tom Brokaw ! ?????

Mr. and Mrs. Potato were very upset. They told Yam she couldn't
possibly marry Tom Brokaw because he's just.......................

" A RETIRED COMMON TATER"

[mss]

:santa: Sleighbells ring... Are you listenin'?... This Year's First Christmas Joke Three men died on Christmas Eve and were met by Saint Peter at the pearly gates. 'In honor of this holy season' Saint Peter said, 'You must each possess something that symbolizes Christmas to get into heaven.' The first man fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a lighter. He flicked it on. 'It represents a candle', he said. 'You may pass through the pearly gates' Saint Peter said. The second man reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He shook them and said, 'They're bells.' Saint Peter said 'You may pass through the pearly gates'. The third man started searching desperately through his pockets and finally pulled out a pair of women's panties. St. Peter looked at the man with a raised eyebrow and asked, 'And just what do those symbolize?' The man replied, 'These are Carols.' And So The Christmas Season Begins......

[mss]

WIld Turkey
A game warden was driving down the road when he came upon a young boy carrying a
wild turkey under his arm. He stopped and asked the boy, "Where did you get
that turkey?"
The boy replied, "What turkey?"

The game warden said, "That turkey you're carrying under your arm."

The boy look down and said, "Well, lookee here, a turkey done roosted under my
arm!"

The game warden said, "Now look, you know turkey season is closed, so what ever
you do to that turkey, I'm going to do to you. If you break his leg, I'm
gonna break your leg. If you break his wing, I'll break your arm. Whatever
you do to him, I'll do to you. So, what are you gonna do with him?"

The little boy said, "I guess I'll just kiss his @ss and let him go!!

[esther231]

9 WORDS THAT WOMEN USE 1 . Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up. 2. Five Minutes : If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house. 3. Nothing! : This is the calm before the storm. This means something and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in "fine." 4. Go Ahead : This is a dare, not permission. Don't do it! 5. Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to #3 for the meaning of "nothing.") 6. That's Okay!: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. "That's okay" means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake. 7. Thanks : A woman is thanking you...do not question...faint. Just say, "You're welcome." 8. Whatever... : Is a women's way of saying F*** YOU! 9 . Don't worry about it...I got it. : Another dangerous statement meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking "What's wrong?" For the woman's response refer to #3.

[esther231]

Subject: How spin works... Judy Wallman, a professional genealogical researcher, discovered that Hillary Clinton's great- great uncle, Remus Rodham,was hanged for horse stealing and train robbery in Montana in 1889. The only known photograph of Remus shows him standing on the gallows. On the back of the picture is this inscription: "Remus Rodham; horse thief, sent to Montana Territorial Prison 1885, escaped 1887, robbed the Montana Flyer six times. Caught by Pinkerton detectives, convicted and hanged in 1889. Judy e-mailed Hillary Clinton for comments. Hillary's staff of professional image adjusters sent back the following biographical sketch: "Remus Rodham was a famous cowboy in the Montana Territory. His business empire grew to include acquisition of valuable equestrian assets and intimate dealings with the Montana railroad. Beginning in 1883, he devoted several years of his life to service at a government facility, finally taking leave to resume his dealings with the railroad. In 1887, he was a key player in a vital investigation run by the renowned Pinkerton Detective Agency. In 1889, Remus passed away during an important civic function held in his honor when the platform upon which he was standing collapsed." And that is how the SPIN is done folks!

[mss]

GOT STOPPED FOR SPEEDING THE OTHER DAY.



I THOUGHT I COULD TALK MY WAY OUT OF IT UNTIL


THE COP LOOKED AT MY DOG IN THE BACK SEAT.




A Sign You're Driving Too Fast........









This one is destined to become a classic, If this doesn't make you laugh or at least smile . you need to think seriously about getting professional assistance