[Rhodes22-list] jokes

[Gardner, Douglas L. (LNG)]

Rik, MJM, etc...

  I can't see it either.  MS Outlook 2000 SR-1 on Win 2k.  Also running IE
5.  

I had two text attachments instead of pics.

-----Original Message-----
From: Rik Sandberg [mailto:racerrik@rea-alp.com]
Sent: Wednesday, September 18, 2002 3:16 PM
To: The Rhodes 22 mail list
Subject: Re: [Rhodes22-list] jokes


Joe,

You mean you can't see this picture??? Suppose we better find out what
software (email, browser) you are using.

Rik
----- Original Message -----
From: "Ware, Joseph W." <joseph_ware@merck.com>
To: "'The Rhodes 22 mail list'" <rhodes22-list@rhodes22.org>
Sent: Wednesday, September 18, 2002 12:48 PM
Subject: RE: [Rhodes22-list] jokes


> Michael,  While others were receiving text instead of jpeg pictures, I
> actually got the pictures as attachments.  Now I get text?  Any ideas?
>
> Joe
> S/V Whisper
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Michael Meltzer [mailto:mjm@michaelmeltzer.com]
> Sent: Wednesday, September 18, 2002 12:28 PM
> To: rhodes22-list@rhodes22.org
> Subject: [Rhodes22-list] jokes
>
>
> (Mumf note: I know you don't want to hear it, but I've been
> busy catching up from vacation! Sorry, damn it!!)
>
> A man receives a free ticket to a Georgia game from his
> company. Unfortunately, when he arrives at the stadium he
> realizes the seat is in the last row in the corner of the
> stadium.......he is closer to the Goodyear Blimp than the
> field! About halfway through the first quarter he notices an
> empty seat 10 rows off the field right on the 50 yard line.
> He decides to take a chance and makes his way through the
> stadium around the security guards to the empty seat. As he
> sits down, he asks the gentleman sitting next to him,
> "Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?"
>
> The man replies "No".
>
> Now, very excited to be in such a great seat for the game,
> he again inquires of the man next to him, "This is
> incredible! Who in their right mind would have a seat like
> this at a Georgia game and not use it?"
>
> The man replies, "Well, actually, the seat belongs to me, I
> was supposed to come with my wife, but she passed away. This
> is the first Georgia game we haven't been to together since
> we got married in 1967."
>
> "Well, that's terribly sad. But still, couldn't you find
> someone to take the seat? A relative or close friend?"
>
> "No," the man replied, "they're all at the funeral."
>
> ++
> Dear Ma and Pa:
>
> Am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer
> the Army beats working for Old Man Minch a mile. Tell them
> to join up quick before maybe all the places are filled.
>
> I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till
> nearly 6 a.m. ( ! ) but am getting so I like to sleep late.
> Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth
> your cot and shine some things -- no hogs to slop, feed to
> pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically
> nothing. You got to shave, but it is not bad in warm water.
>
> Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal,
> eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes,
> beef, ham steak, fried eggplant, pie and regular food. But
> tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit between two city boys
> that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you till
> noon, when you get fed.
>
> It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much. We go on
> "route marches," which, the Sgt. says, are long walks to
> harden us. If he thinks so, it is not my place to tell him
> different. A "route march" is about as far as to our mailbox
> at home. Then the city guys all get sore feet and we ride
> back in trucks. The country is nice, but awful flat.
>
> The Sgt. is like a schoolteacher. He nags some. The Capt. is
> like the school board. Cols. and Gens. just ride around and
> frown. They don't bother you none.
>
> This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep
> getting medals for shooting. I don't know why. The
> bull's-eye is near as big as a chipmunk and don't move. And
> it ain't shooting at you, like the Higsett boys at home. All
> you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You
> don't even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.
>
> Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before
> other fellows get onto this setup and come stampeding in.
>
> Your loving son, Zeb
>
> P.S. Speaking of shooting, enclosed is $200 for the barn
> roof and ma's teeth. The city boys shoot craps, but not very
> good. - Z.
>
> ++
> TOILET WISDOM
> -------------
>
> 1. Friends don't let friends take home ugly men.
> ----Women's restroom, Starboard, Dewey Beach, DE.
>
> 2. Remember, it's not, "How high are you?" it's "Hi, how are
> you?"
> --- Rest stop off Route 81, West Virginia.
>
> 3. No matter how good she looks, some other guy is sick
> and tired of putting up with her crap.
> ---Men's Room, Linda's Bar and Grill, Chapel Hill, North
> Carolina
>
> 4. Make love, not war. Hell, do both, get married!
> ---Women's restroom, The Filling Station, Bozeman, Montana
>
> 5. A Woman's Rule of Thumb: If it has tires or testicles,
> you're going to have trouble with it.
> ---Women's restroom, Dick's Last Resort, Dallas, Texas
>
> 6. No wonder you always go home alone.
> ---Sign over mirror in Men's restroom, Ed Debevic's, Beverly
> Hills, CA
>
> 7. Beauty is only a light switch away.
> --- Perkins Library, Duke University, Durham, North
> Carolina.
>
> 8. It's hard to make a comeback when you haven't been
> anywhere.
> ---Written in the dust on the back of a bus, Flagstaff,
> Arizona.
>
> 9. If voting could really change things, it would be
> illegal.
> --- Revolution Books, New York, New York
>
> 10. Please don't throw your cigarette butts in the urinal.
> It makes them soggy and hard to light.
> ---The Janitor
>
> 11. What are you looking up on the wall for? The joke is in
> your hands.
> ---Men's restroom, Lynagh's, Lexington, KY
>
> - submitted by Carol Bagshaw
>
> --
> Planning for the fall football season in the South is
> radically different from up north. For those who are
> planning a football trip south, here are some helpful hints.
>
> Women's Accessories:
> NORTH: chopstick in back pocket and a $20 bill in the front
> pocket.
> SOUTH: Louis Vuitton duffel with two lipsticks, waterproof
> mascara, and a fifth of bourbon. Money not necessary -
> that's what dates are for.
>
> Stadium Size:
> NORTH: College football stadiums hold 20,000 people.
> SOUTH: High school football stadiums hold 20,000 people.
>
> Fathers:
> NORTH: Expect their daughters to understand Sylvia Plath.
> SOUTH: Expect their daughters to understand pass
> interference.
>
> Campus Decor:
> NORTH: Statues of founding fathers.
> SOUTH: Statues of Heisman trophy winners.
>
> Homecoming Queen:
> NORTH: Also a physics major.
> SOUTH: Also Miss America.
>
> Heroes:
> NORTH: Rudy Guliani
> SOUTH: Archie & Payton Manning
>
> Getting Tickets:
> NORTH: 5 days before the game you walk into the ticket
> office on campus and purchase tickets.
> SOUTH: 5 months before the game you walk into the ticket
> office on campus and put name on waiting list for tickets.
>
> Friday Classes After a Thursday Night Game:
> NORTH: Students and teachers not sure they're going to the
> game, because they have classes on Friday.
> SOUTH: Teachers cancel Friday classes because they don't
> want to see the few hungover students that might actually
> make it to class.
>
> Parking:
> NORTH: An hour before game time, the University opens the
> campus for game parking.
> SOUTH: RVs sporting their school flags begin arriving on
> Wednesday for the weekend festivities. The really faithful
> arrive on Tuesday.
>
> Game Day:
> NORTH: A few students party in the dorm and watch ESPN on
> TV.
> SOUTH: Every student wakes up, has a beer for breakfast, and
> rushes over to where ESPN is broadcasting "Game Day Live" to
> get on camera and wave to the idiots up north who wonder why
> "Game Day Live" is never broadcast from their campus.
>
> Tailgating:
> NORTH: Raw meat on a grill, beer with lime in it, listening
> to local radio station with truck tailgate down.
> SOUTH: 30-foot custom pig-shaped smoker fires up at dawn.
> Cooking accompanied by live performance by "Dave Matthews'
> Band," who come over during breaks and asked for a hit off
> bottle of bourbon.
>
> Getting to the Stadium:
> NORTH: You ask "Where's the stadium?" When you find it, you
> walk right in.
> SOUTH: When you're near it, you'll hear it. On game day it
> becomes the state's third largest city.
>
> Concessions:
> NORTH: Drinks served in a paper cup, filled to the top with
> soda.
> SOUTH: Drinks served in a plastic cup, with the home team's
> mascot on it, filled less than half way with soda, to ensure
> enough room for bourbon.
>
> When National Anthem is Played:
> NORTH: Stands are less than half full, and less than half of
> them stand up. (Mumf note: I agree with the earlier ones,
> but this one isn't true!)
> SOUTH: 100,000 fans, all standing, sing along in perfect
> four-part harmony.
>
> The Smell in the Air After the First Score:
> NORTH: Nothing changes.
> SOUTH: Fireworks, with a touch of bourbon.
>
> Commentary (Male):
> North: "Nice play."
> SOUTH: "Dammit, you slow sumbitch - tackle him and break his
> legs."
>
> Commentary (Female):
> NORTH: "My, this certainly is a violent sport."
> SOUTH: "Dammit, you slow sumbitch - tackle him and break his
> legs."
>
> Announcers:
> NORTH: Neutral and paid.
> SOUTH: Announcer harmonizes with the crowd in the fight
> song, with a tear in his eye because he is so proud of his
> team. (Mumf note: like listening to Derek Sanderson doing
> color (or should I say "African Amer..") at a Boston Bruins
> hockey game)
>
> After the Game:
> NORTH: The stadium is empty way before the game ends.
> SOUTH: Another rack of ribs goes on the smoker. While
> somebody goes to the nearest package store for more bourbon,
> planning begins for next week's game.
>
> Nothing else in the universe comes even halfway close to the
> glories of Southern football . . .
>
> - submitted by Sue Greene
>
> --
> WHY WE LOVE CHILDREN:
>
> A kindergarten pupil told his teacher he'd found a cat. She
> asked him if it was dead or alive. "Dead." She was informed.
>
> "How do you know?" she asked her pupil.
>
> "Because I pissed in its ear and it didn't move,"
> answered the child innocently.
>
> "You did WHAT?!?" the teacher exclaimed in surprise.
>
> "You know," explained the boy, "I leaned over and
> went 'Pssst!' and it didn't move."
>
> _________________________________________________
> A small boy is sent to bed by his father. Five minutes
> later.... "Da-ad...."
>
> "What?"
>
> "I'm thirsty. Can you bring drink of water?"
>
> "No. You had your chance. Lights out."
>
> Five minutes later: "Da-aaaad....."
>
> "WHAT?"
>
> "I'm THIRSTY. Can I have a drink of water??"
>
> "I told you NO!" If you ask again, I'll have to spank you!!"
>
> Five minutes later...... "Daaaa-aaaad....."
>
> "WHAT!"
>
> "When you come in to spank me, can you bring a drink of
> water?"
>
> ________________________________________________
> An exasperated mother, whose son was always getting into
> mischief, finally asked him, "How do you expect to get into
> Heaven?"
>
> The boy thought it over and said, "Well, I'll run in and out
> and in and out and keep slamming the door until St. Peter
> says, 'For Heaven's sake, Dylan, come in or stay out!'"
>
> _________________________________________________
> One summer evening during a violent thunderstorm a mother
> was tucking her son into bed. She was about to turn off the
> light when he asked with a tremor in his voice, "Mommy, will
> you sleep with me tonight?"
>
> The mother smiled and gave him a reassuring hug. "I can't
> dear," she said. "I have to sleep in Daddy's room."
>
> A long silence was broken at last by his shaky little voice:
> "The big pussy."
>
> _________________________________________________
> When I was six months pregnant with my third child, my three
> year old came into the room when I was just getting ready to
> get into the shower. She said, "Mommy, you are getting fat!"
>
> I replied, "Yes, honey, remember Mommy has a baby growing in
> her tummy"
>
> "I know," she replied, but what's growing in your butt?"
>
> _________________________________________________
> A little boy was doing his math homework. He said to
> himself, "Two plus five, that son of a bitch is seven. Three
> plus six, that son of a bitch is nine...."
>
> His mother heard what he was saying and gasped, "What are
> you doing?"
>
> The little boy answered, "I'm doing my math homework, Mom."
>
> "And this is how your teacher taught you to do
> it?" the mother asked.
>
> "Yes," he answered.
>
> Infuriated, the mother asked the teacher the next day, "What
> are you teaching my son in math?"
>
> The teacher replied, "Right now, we are learning addition."
>
> The mother asked, "And are you teaching them to say two plus
> two, that son of a bitch is four?"
>
> After the teacher stopped laughing, she answered, "What I
> taught them was, two plus two, THE SUM OF WHICH, is four."
>
> - submitted by Rob Brucato (Mumf note: yes, the same Rob
> Brucato that has sent all the other off-color (should I be
> saying "off-African American"?, err.. I digress) submissions
> in the past -- my guess: he has a girl friend!)
>
>
>
>
>
>
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------
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