21 June 2010

One day Bill complained to his friend that his elbow really hurt. His friend suggested that he go to a computer at the drug store that can diagnose anything quicker and cheaper than a doctor. "Simply put in a sample of your urine and the computer will diagnose your problem and tell you what you can do about it. It only costs $10." Bill figured he had nothing to lose, so he filled a jar with a urine sample and went to the drug store. Finding the computer, he poured in the sample and deposited the $10. The computer started making some noise and various lights started flashing. After a brief pause out popped a small slip of paper on which was printed: "You have tennis elbow. Soak your arm in warm water. Avoid heavy lifting. It will be better in two weeks." Later that evening while thinking how amazing this new technology was and how it would change medical science forever, he began to wonder if this machine could be fooled. He mixed together some tap water, a stool sample from his dog and urine samples from his wife and daughter. To top it off, he masturbated into the concoction. He went back to the drug store, located the machine, poured in the sample and deposited the $10. The computer again made the usual noise and printed out the following message: "Your tap water is too hard. Get a water softener. Your dog has worms. Get him vitamins. Your daughter is using cocaine. Put her in a rehabilitation clinic. Your wife is pregnant with twin girls. They aren't yours. Get a lawyer. And if you don't stop jerking off, your tennis elbow will never get better."



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A young ventriloquist is touring the clubs and one night he's doing a show in a small club in a small town in Arkansas. With his dummy on his knee, he's going through his usual dumb blonde jokes when a blonde woman in the fourth row stands on her chair and starts shouting: "I've heard enough of your stupid blonde jokes. What makes you think you can stereotype women that way? What does the color of a person's hair have to do with her worth as a human being? It's guys like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in the community and from reaching our full potential as a person, because you and your kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against, not only blondes, but women in general...and all in the name of humor!" The ventriloquist is embarrassed and begins to apologize, when the blonde yells, "You stay out of this, mister! I'm talking to that little jerk on your knee!"

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Dear Dad, $chool i$ really great. I am making lot$ of friend$ and $tudying very hard. With all my $tuff, I $imply can't think of anything I need, $o if you would like, you can ju$t $end me a card, a$ I would love to hear from you. Love, Your $on. Dear Son, I k NOw that astro NOmy, eco NOmics, and ocea NOgraphy are e NOugh to keep even an ho NOr student busy. Do NOt forget that the pursuit of k NOwledge is a NOble task, and you can never study e NOugh. Love, Dad

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Somewhere in America, next week... 
Dad: Son, come in here, we need to talk. 
Son: What's up, Dad? 
Dad: There's a scratch down the side of the car. Did you do it? 
Son: I don't believe, if I understand the definition of "scratch the car", that I can say, truthfully, that I did not scratch the car. 
Dad: Well, it wasn't there yesterday, and you drove the car last night, and no one else has driven it since. How can you explain the scratch? 
Son: Well, as I've said before, I have no recollection of scratching the car. While it is true that I did take the car out last night, I did not scratch it. 
Dad: But your sister, Monica, has told me she saw you back the car against the mailbox at the end of the driveway, heard a loud scraping sound, saw you get out to examine the car, and then drive away. So again I'll ask you, yes or no, did you scratch the car? 
Son: Oh, you mean you think you have evidence to prove I scratched it. Well, you see, I understood you to mean did "I" scratch the car. I stand by my earlier statement, that I did not scratch the car. 
Dad: Are you trying to tell me you didn't drive the car into the mailbox? 
Son: Well, you see sir, I was trying to drive the car into the street. I mishandled the steering of the car, and it resulted in direct contact with the mailbox, though that was clearly not my intent. 
Dad: So you are then saying that you did hit the mailbox? 
Son: No sir, that's not my statement. I'll refer you back to my original statement that I did not scratch the car. Dad: But the car did hit the mailbox, and the car did get scratched as a result of this contact? 
Son: Well, yes, I suppose you could look at it that way. 
Dad: So you lied to me when you said you did not scratch car? 
Son: No. No, that's not correct. Your question was "Did I scratch the car?". From a strict legal definition, as I understood the meaning of that sentence, I did not scratch the car... the mailbox did... I was merely present when the scratching occurred. So my answer of "No" when you asked "Did I scratch the car?" was legally correct, although I did not volunteer information. 
Dad: Where did you learn to talk like a complete idiot? 
Son: From The President of the United States.