Keeping it funny…

[John Ranalletta]

2 hours ago, Rougarou said:

 

I thought it as being responsible.

 

If Lassie could run home to tell Timmy's parents he'd fallen into the well, Lassie could be trained to poop at home.  Just sayin'.

 

[syntorz]

5 hours ago, Hosstage said:

I drive home if I have to poop. 

Or, if I'm drunk, sometimes in the neighbor's yard.

Funny.

 

I know a couple of cheap ba$t@rds that don't do it at home. Only at work so they save on TP and cleaning of their own b-rooms.

[syntorz]

30 minutes ago, John Ranalletta said:

 

If Lassie could run home to tell Timmy's parents he'd fallen into the well, Lassie could be trained to poop at home.  Just sayin'.

 

As a kid, my father was a reluctant dog owner (Mom wanted the dog). Dad trained the dog to do it "in the field", the overgrown next door vacant lot.

 

The dog knew

Short grass = bad place

Long grass = right place

[TEWKS]

3 minutes ago, syntorz said:

Funny.

 

I know a couple of cheap ba$t@rds that don't do it at home. Only at work so they save on TP and cleaning of their own b-rooms.

There are so many ways people make money with their bodies, that’s just brilliant! 

[Rougarou]

1 hour ago, John Ranalletta said:

 

If Lassie could run home to tell Timmy's parents he'd fallen into the well, Lassie could be trained to poop at home.  Just sayin'.

 

 

Our cat

 

But we didn't have to wait around for it to go to train it.  I'm not about to wait around for a dog to take a dump just so I can make sure it goes in the right spot.  Call me lazy, I'll carry my wal mart bags, pick it up, no loss of dignity, and put it in the trash.

[roadscholar]

In college I lived with a guy that had a (somewhat) trained raccoon (Rocky) he'd rescued when it was young, he would poop in the toilet until one day he got confused, or lazy and did it in the kitchen sink, but that was the only time. He was a pretty smart raccoon, one night I was sitting on the couch watching tv with a box of cookies, he was at the other end of the couch pretending to watch too. When I wasn't paying attention he jumped over grabbed the box and ran down the hall with cookies flying around, surprised me but was hilarious, probably moreso the fact I was chasing him. 

[SDCRJohn]

[John Ranalletta]

Not funny.  Wonder who ratted him out?

 

 

 

[BrianT]

4 hours ago, John Ranalletta said:

Not funny.  Wonder who ratted him out?

 

 

 

 

Not very professional.  Get mad at the guy who ran, not the ones who pulled over and did what they were supposed to do.

[BrianT]

Trying to get in the Halloween Spirit.

 

[John Ranalletta]

7 hours ago, BrianT said:

 

Not very professional.  Get mad at the guy who ran, not the ones who pulled over and did what they were supposed to do.

Thinking about this later, if the stopped riders called the guy who got away asking him to return and he didn't, would they ride with him again given a failure to return got them reckless driving awards and their bikes towed? 

[Rougarou]

7 hours ago, BrianT said:

 

Not very professional.  Get mad at the guy who ran, not the ones who pulled over and did what they were supposed to do.

 

Whether they pulled over matters not.  If they were doing the same things the "one that got away" was doing, they deserve the yellin'.

 

Sometimes, professionalism gets loud and has colorful metaphors included.

[Hosstage]

8 hours ago, BrianT said:

 

Not very professional.  Get mad at the guy who ran, not the ones who pulled over and did what they were supposed to do.

Officer, just because your wife is banging the neighbor doesn't mean you have to take out your anger on us.

Yeah, right into the back of the squad I go. Probably with a new knot on my forehead.

[Hosstage]

44 minutes ago, John Ranalletta said:

Thinking about this later, if the stopped riders called the guy who got away asking him to return and he didn't, would they ride with him again given a failure to return got them reckless driving awards and their bikes towed? 

A good friend bails you out of jail. A really good friend is sitting next to you in the cell.

I would not be the one ratting out my friend. I would not be the one calling him to come back. I take my punishment for the crime I did. No hard feelings against my friend who ran. He'll have his own consequences to deal with.

Do what you have to do, officer.   Sorry to hear about your wife banging the neighbor.

[taylor1]

I can totally understand the frustration of the officer. Though when given some thought, it seems that cooler heads always prevail.

[SDCRJohn]

[wbw6cos]

How is the guy who got away supposed to answer the call while riding?  Supposin he ain't got no Cardo or sena.  

 

It may take a while before he can find the missed call and colorful voice message.   

[roadscholar]

I'd be pissed off too, adrenaline and testosterone have a way of doing that in the moment, has nothing to do with his wife or anything else. Those thimble brains are the scourge of the motorcycling world  (more than the truly obnoxious/look at me loud pipe crowd) and make everyone look bad, the general public doesn't differentiate. They aren't easy to catch either (there were 12 complaint calls from motorists), he's pissed because one got away, he should put them away for reckless endangerment and impound the bikes either way and once he gets the perps name put out a warrant.

 

It had gotten pretty bad around here then more stringent laws went into effect that's curtailed a lot of it. Late one night about a year ago I was coming back from the beach and two sport bikes passed me going about 130-140 across the Palm Valley bridge, 10 seconds later two sheriff SUV's were in hot pursuit, I was thinking they'll never catch 'em. About 5 miles later they had one of them pulled over after a 270* exit ramp, I went by slow to get a look, they had him cuffed on the ground, he was probably 17. About a half mile later just over a rise the other one was hiding waiting on his buddy, I went back and told the officers where he was, they said 'we saw him, he's just trying to get us to chase him'.

[Hosstage]

I'm not against a good beating when they finally get caught.

[TEWKS]

23 minutes ago, Hosstage said:

I'm not against a good beating when they finally get caught.

Here’s the major problem with the yutes of today.  All but the ruralest community supermarkets stopped selling this stuff years ago. 
 

 

[BrianT]

I like this idea for a pool.

 

[Red]

[John Ranalletta]

@Rougarou

 

 

 

[TEWKS]

I think Richard lives by the motto “if a tool works, it’s the right one for the job” or something like that. 

[Rougarou]

If any of ya'll ever meet my wife, simply ask her, "if you die or ya'll get divorced, what's Richard gonna do?",......I guarantee that she will say, "he's going to Thailand"

[TEWKS]

2 hours ago, Rougarou said:

..I guarantee that she will say, "he's going to Thailand"

Wow, is authentic Thai food really that good?  

[Rougarou]

28 minutes ago, TEWKS said:

Wow, is authentic Thai food really that good?  

 

Phillipina cooking is good too!!

[TEWKS]

35 minutes ago, Rougarou said:

 

Phillipina cooking is good too!!

All this exotic food talk is making “me so hungry”!  

[John Ranalletta]

A lesson on how consultants can make a difference in an organization.

Last week, we took some friends to a new restaurant, ' Steve's Place,' and
noticed that the waiter who took our order carried a spoon in his shirt
pocket.  It seemed a little strange. When the bus-boy brought our water and utensils,
I observed that he also had a spoon in his shirt pocket.

Then I looked around and saw that all the staff had spoons in their pockets.
When the waiter came back to serve our soup I inquired, 'Why the spoon?'

'Well, 'he explained, 'the restaurant's owner hired Andersen Consulting to
revamp all of our processes. After several months of analysis, they
concluded that the spoon was the most frequently dropped utensil. It
represents a drop frequency of approximately 3 spoons per table per hour.
If our personnel are better prepared, we can reduce the number of trips back
to the kitchen and save 5 man-hours per shift.'

As luck would have it, I dropped my spoon and he replaced it with his spare.
'I'll get another spoon next time I go to the kitchen instead of making an
extra trip to get it right now.' I was impressed.

I also noticed that there was a string hanging out of the waiter's fly.

Looking around, I saw that all of the waiters had the same string hanging
from their flies. So, before he walked off, I asked the waiter, 'Excuse me,
but can you tell me why you have that string right there?'

'Oh, certainly!' Then he lowered his voice. 'Not everyone is so observant.
That consulting firm I mentioned also learned that we can save time in the
restroom. By tying this string to the tip of our you-know-what, we can pull
it out without touching it and eliminate the need to wash our hands,
shortening the time spent in the restroom by 76.39%.

I asked quietly, 'After you get it out, how do you put it back?'

'Well,' he whispered, 'I don't know about the others, but I use the spoon.'


 

 

 

[Rougarou]

Two trains of thought:

 

1. don't piss on your hands.

 

2. If you've showered/bathed, your junk has been in hopefully clean clothing and should be clean, thus, you should wash your hands before you whip it out as your hands have been touching dirty stuff all day and why touch something that is clean with dirty hands

 

I kinda think its funny that the germaphobes will grab the handle of the door to open it to enter yet use a tissue to open the door to go out

[Rougarou]

Hmmmm

 

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C8feoM0yr5Z/?igsh=MTljcmNuYTVtYjh5ZQ==

 

 

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

Some people say cats never have to be bathed.  They say cats lick themselves clean.  They say cats have a special enzyme of some sort in their saliva that works like new, improved Wisk - dislodging the dirt where it hides and whisking it away.
 
I've spent most of my life believing this folklore.  Like most blind believers, I've been able to discount all the facts to the contrary, the kitty odors that lurk in the corners of the garage and dirt smudges that cling to the throw rug by the fireplace.
 
The time comes, however, when a man must face reality,  when he must look squarely in the face of massive public sentiment to the contrary and announce:  "This cat smells like a port-a-potty on a hot day in Juarez."
 
When that day arrives at your house, as it has in mine, I have some advice you might consider as you place your feline friend under your arm and head for the bathtub:
 

• Know that although the cat has the advantage of quickness and lack of concern for human life, you have the advantage of strength.  Capitalize on that advantage by selecting the battlefield.  Don't try to bathe him in an open area where he can force you to chase him.  Pick a very small bathroom. If your bathroom is more than four feet square, I recommend that you get in the tub with the cat and close the sliding-glass doors as if you were about to take a shower.  (A simple shower curtain will not do.  A berserk cat can shred a three-ply rubber shower curtain quicker than a politician can shift positions.)

•  Know that a cat has claws and will not hesitate to remove all the skin from your body.  Your advantage here is that you are smart and know how to dress to protect yourself.  I recommend canvas overalls tucked into high-top construction boots, a pair of steel-mesh gloves, an army helmet, a hockey face mask, and a long-sleeved flak jacket.

•  Prepare everything in advance.  There is no time to go out for a towel when you have a cat digging a hole in your flak jacket.  Draw the water. Make sure the bottle of kitty shampoo is inside the glass enclosure.  Make sure the towel can be reached, even if you are lying on your back in the water.

• Use the element of surprise.  Pick up your cat nonchalantly, as if to simply carry him to his supper dish.  (Cats will not usually notice your strange attire.  They have little or no interest in fashion as a rule. If he does notice your garb, calmly explain that you are taking part in a product testing experiment for J.C. Penney.)

• Once you are inside the bathroom, speed is essential to survival.  In a single fluid motion, shut the bathroom door, step into the tub enclosure, slide the glass door shut, dip the cat in the water and squirt him with shampoo.  You have begun the wildest 45 seconds of your life.

• Cats have no handles.  Add the fact that he now has soapy fur, and the problem is radically compounded.  Do not expect to hold on to him for more than two or three seconds at a time.  When you have him, however, you must remember to give him another squirt of shampoo and rub like crazy. He'll then spring free and fall back into the water, thereby rinsing himself off.  (The national record for cats is three latherings, so don't expect too much.) 

• Next, the cat must be dried.  Novice cat bathers always assume this part will be the most difficult, for humans generally are worn out at this point and the cat is just getting really determined.  In fact, the drying is simple compared to what you have just been through.  That's because by now the cat is semi-permanently affixed to your right leg. You simply pop the drain plug with you foot, reach for your towel and wait. (Occasionally, however, the cat will end up clinging to the top of your army helmet.  If this happens, the best thing you can do is to shake him loose and to encourage him toward your leg.) After all the water is drained from the tub, it is a simple matter to just reach down and dry the cat.

 In a few days the cat will relax enough to be removed from your leg. He will usually have nothing to say for about three weeks and will spend a lot of time sitting with his back to you.  He might even become psychoceramic and develop the fixed stare of a plaster figurine. You will be tempted to assume he is angry.  This isn't usually the case. As a rule he is simply plotting ways to get through your defenses and injure you for life the next time you decide to give him a bath.
             
But at least now he smells a lot better.
 
 

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

A farmer got pulled over by a state trooper for speeding, and the trooper started to lecture the farmer about his speed, and in general began to throw his weight around to try to make the farmer uncomfortable.  Finally, the trooper got around to writing out the ticket, and as he was doing that he kept swatting at some flies that were buzzing around his head.  The farmer said, "Having some problems with circle flies there, are ya?"

 

The trooper stopped writing the ticket and said, "Well yeah, if that's what they are.  I never heard of circle flies."

 

So the farmer says, "Well, circle flies are common on farms. See, they're called circle flies because they're almost always found circling around the back end of a horse."

 

The trooper says, "Oh," and goes back to writing the ticket.  Then after a minute he stops and says, "Hey...wait a minute, are you trying to call me a horse's ass?"

 

The farmer says, "Oh no, officer. I have too much respect for law enforcement and police officers to even think about calling you a horse's ass."

 

The trooper says, "Well, that's a good thing," and goes back to writing the ticket.

 

After a long pause, the farmer says, "Hard to fool them flies though."

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

"Dave Barry's Guide To Guys."
 
Are You a Guy?  Take This Scientific Quiz to Determine Your Guyness Quotient

 

1. Alien beings from a highly advanced society visit the Earth, and you are the first human they encounter. As a token of intergalactic friendship, they present you with a small but incredibly sophisticated device that is capable of curing all disease, providing an infinite supply of clean energy, wiping out
hunger and poverty, and permanently eliminating oppression and violence all over the entire Earth. You decide to:

 

a. Present it to the president of the United States.
b. Present it to the secretary general of the United Nations.
c. Take it apart.

 

2. As you grow older, what lost quality of your youthful life do you miss the most?

 

a. Innocence.
b. Idealism.
c. Cherry bombs.

 

3. When is it okay to kiss another male?

 

a. When you wish to display simple and pure affection without regard for narrow-minded social conventions.
b. When he is the pope. (Not on the lips.)
c. When he is your brother and you are Al Pacino and this is the only really sportsmanlike way to let him know that, for business reasons, you have to have him killed.

 

4. What about hugging another male?

 

a. If he's your father and at least one of you has a fatal disease.
b. If you're performing the Heimlich maneuver. (And even in this case, you should repeatedly shout: "I am just dislodging food trapped in this male's trachea! I am not in any way aroused!")
c. If you're a professional baseball player and a teammate hits a home run to win the World Series, you may hug him provided that (1) He is legally within the basepath, (2) Both of you are wearing protective cups, and (3) You also pound him fraternally with your fist hard enough to cause fractures.

 

5. Complete this sentence: A funeral is a good time to...

 

a. ...remember the deceased and console his loved ones.
b. ...reflect upon the fleeting transience of earthly life.
c. ...tell the joke about the guy who has Alzheimer's disease and cancer.

 

6. In your opinion, the ideal pet is:

 

a. A cat.
b. A dog.
c. A dog that eats cats.

 

7. You have been seeing a woman for several years. She's attractive and intelligent, and you always enjoy being with her. One leisurely Sunday afternoon the two of you are taking it easy--you're watching a football game, she's reading the papers--when she suddenly, out of the clear blue sky, tells you that she
thinks she really loves you, but she can no longer bear the uncertainty of not knowing where your relationship is going. She says she's not asking whether you want to get married; only whether you believe that you have some kind of future together. What do you say?

 

a. That you sincerely believe the two of you do have a future, but you don't want to rush it.
b. That although you also have strong feelings for her, you cannot honestly say that you'll be ready anytime soon to make a lasting commitment, and you don't want to hurt her by holding out false hope.
c. That you cannot believe the Chiefs called a draw play on third and seventeen.

 

8. Okay, so you have decided that you truly love a woman and you want to spend the rest of your life with her-sharing the joys and the sorrows, the triumphs and the tragedies, and all the adventures and opportunities that the world has to offer, come what may. How do you tell her?

 

a. You take her to a nice restaurant and tell her after dinner.
b. You take her for a walk on a moonlit beach, and you say her name, and when she turns to you, with the sea breeze blowing her hair and the stars in her eyes, you tell her.
c. Tell her what?

 

9. One weekday morning your wife wakes up feeling ill and asks you to get your three children ready for school. Your first question to her is:

 

a. "Do they need to eat or anything?"
b. "They're in school already?"
c. "There are three of them?"

 

10. When is it okay to throw away a set of veteran underwear?

 

a. When it has turned the color of a dead whale and developed new holes so large that you're not sure which ones were originally intended for your legs.
b. When it is down to eight loosely connected underwear molecules and has to be handled with tweezers.
c. It is never okay to throw away veteran underwear. A real guy checks the garbage regularly in case somebody-and we are not naming names, but this would be his wife-is quietly trying to discard his underwear, which she is frankly jealous of, because the guy seems to have a more intimate relationship with it than
   with her.

 

11. What, in your opinion, is the most reasonable explanation for the fact that Moses led the Israelites all over the place for forty years before they finally got to the Promised Land?

 

a. He was being tested.
b. He wanted them to really appreciate the Promised Land when they finally got there.
c. He refused to ask directions.

 

12. What is the human race's single greatest achievement?

a. Democracy.
b. Religion.
c. Remote control.

 

How to Score: Give yourself one point for every time you picked answer "c." A real guy would score at least 10 on this test. In fact, a real guy would score at least 15, because he would get the special five-point bonus for knowing the joke about the guy who has Alzheimer's disease and cancer.

 

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

Top 20 Engineers' Terminologies
 
1. A NUMBER OF DIFFERENT APPROACHES ARE BEING TRIED --
         We are still pissing in the wind.

 

2. EXTENSIVE REPORT IS BEING PREPARED ON A FRESH APPROACH TO THE PROBLEM --
         We just hired three kids fresh out of college.

 

3. CLOSE PROJECT COORDINATION --
         We know who to blame.

 

4. MAJOR TECHNOLOGICAL BREAKTHROUGH --
         It works "OK", but looks very hi-tech.

 

5. CUSTOMER SATISFACTION IS DELIVERED ASSURED --
         We are so far behind schedule the customer is happy to get it delivered.

 

6. PRELIMINARY OPERATIONAL TESTS WERE INCONCLUSIVE --
         The darn thing blew up when we threw the switch.

 

7. TEST RESULTS WERE EXTREMELY GRATIFYING  --
         We are so surprised that the stupid thing works.

 

8. THE ENTIRE CONCEPT WILL HAVE TO BE ABANDONED --
         The only person who understood the thing quit.

 

9. IT IS IN THE PROCESS --
         It is so wrapped up in red tape that the situation is about hopeless.

 

10. WE WILL LOOK INTO IT --
         Forget it!  We have enough problems for now.

 

11. PLEASE NOTE AND INITIAL --
         Let's spread the responsibility for the screw up.

 

12. GIVE US THE BENEFIT OF YOUR THINKING --
         We'll listen to what you have to say as long as it doesn't interfere with what we've already done.

 

13. GIVE US YOUR INTERPRETATION --
         I can't wait to hear this bullshit!

 

14. SEE ME or LET'S DISCUSS --
         Come into my office, I'm lonely.

 

15. ALL NEW --
         Parts not interchangeable with the previous design.

 

16. RUGGED --
         Too damn heavy to lift!

 

17. LIGHTWEIGHT --
         Lighter than RUGGED.

 

18. YEARS OF DEVELOPMENT --
         One finally worked.

 

19. ENERGY SAVING --
         Achieved when the power switch is off.

 

20. LOW MAINTENANCE --
         Impossible to fix if broken.
 

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

A rather inhibited engineer finally splurged on a luxury cruise to the Caribbean.  It was the "craziest" thing he had ever done in his life.

 

Just as he was beginning to enjoy himself, a hurricane roared upon the huge ship, capsizing it like a child's toy.  Somehow the engineer, desperately hanging on to a life preserver, managed to wash ashore on a secluded island.

 

Outside of beautiful scenery, a spring-fed pool, bananas and coconuts, there was little else.  He lost all hope and for hours on end, sat under the same palm tree.  One day, after several months had passed, a gorgeous woman in a small rowboat appeared.

 

"I'm from the other side of the island," she said. "Were you on the cruise ship, too?"

 

"Yes, I was, " he answered. "But where did you get that rowboat?"

 

"Well, I whittled the oars from gum tree branches, wove the reinforced gunnel from palm branches, and made the keel and stern from a Eucalyptus tree."

 

"But, what did you use for tools?" asked the man.

 

"There was a very unusual strata of alluvial rock exposed on the south side of the island. I discovered that if I fired it to a certain temperature in my kiln, it melted into forgeable ductile iron.  Anyhow, that's how I got the tools.  But, enough of that," she said.  "Where have you been living all this time?  I don't see any shelter."

 

"To be honest, I've just been sleeping on the beach," he said.

 

"Would you like to come to my place?" the woman asked.  The engineer nodded dumbly.

 

She expertly rowed them around to her side of the island, and tied up the boat with a handsome strand of hand-woven hemp topped with a neat back splice.  They walked up a winding stone walk she had laid and around a palm tree there stood an exquisite bungalow painted in blue and white.

 

"It's not much, but I call it home." Inside, she said, "Sit down please; would you like to have a drink?"

 

"No, thanks," said  the man. "One more coconut juice and I'll throw up!"

 

"It won't be coconut juice," the woman replied.  "I have a crude still out back, so we can have authentic Pina Coladas."

 

Trying to hide his amazement, the man accepted the drink, and they sat down on her couch to talk.  After they had exchanged stories, the woman asked, "Tell me, have you always had a beard?"

 

"No," the man replied, "I was clean shaven all of my life until I ended up on this island."

 

"Well if you'd like to shave, there's a razor upstairs in the bathroom cabinet."

 

The man, no longer questioning anything, went upstairs to the bathroom and shaved with an intricate bone-and-shell device honed razor sharp. Next he showered -- not even attempting to fathom a guess as to how she managed to get warm water into the bathroom -- and went back downstairs.  He couldn't help but admire the masterfully carved banister as he walked.

 

"You look great," said the woman.  "I think I'll go up and slip into something more comfortable."

 

As she did, the man continued to sip his Pina Colada.  After a short time, the woman, smelling faintly of gardenias, returned wearing a revealing gown fashioned out of pounded palm fronds.

 

"Tell me," she asked, "we've both been out here for a very long time with no companionship.  You know what I mean.  Haven't you been lonely, too...isn't there something that you really, really miss?  Something that all men and women need?  Something that would be really nice to have right now!"

 

"Yes there is!" the man replied, shucking off his shyness. "There is something I've wanted to do for so long. But on this island all alone, it was just...well, it was impossible."

 

"Well, it's not impossible, any more," the woman said.

 

The man, practically panting in excitement, said breathlessly: "You mean... you actually figured out some way we can CHECK OUR EMAIL HERE!!??!!"
 

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD

 

There once was a young person named Little Red Riding Hood who lived on the edge of a large forest full of endangered owls and rare plants that would probably provide a cure for cancer if only someone took the time to study them.  Red Riding Hood lived with a nurture giver whom she sometimes referred to as "mother," although she didn't mean to imply by this term that she would have thought less of the person if  a close biological link did not in fact exist. Nor did she intend to denigrate the equal value of nontraditional households.

 

One day her mother asked her to take a basket of organically grown fruit and mineral water to her grandmother's house.  "But mother, won't this be stealing employment from the unionized workers who have struggled for years to earn the right to carry all packages between various people in the woods?"

 

Red Riding Hood's mother assured her that she had called the union boss and gotten a special compassionate mission exemption.  "But mother, aren't you oppressing me by ordering me to do this?" Red Riding Hood's mother pointed out that it was impossible for womyn to oppress each other, since all womyn were equally oppressed until all womyn were free.

 

"But mother, then shouldn't you have my brother carry the basket, since he's an oppressor, and should learn what it's like to be oppressed?"  And Red Riding Hood's mother explained that her brother was attending a special rally for animal rights, and besides, this wasn't stereotypical womyn's work, but an empowering deed that would help engender a feeling of community.

 

"But won't I be oppressing Grandma, by implying that she's sick and hence unable to independently further her own selfhood?" Red Riding Hood's mother explained that her grandmother wasn't actually sick or incapacitated or mentally handicapped in any way, although that was not to imply that any of these conditions were inferior to what some people called "health."

 

Thus Red Riding Hood felt that she could get behind the idea of delivering the basket to her grandmother, and so she set off.

 

Many people believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place, but Red Riding Hood knew that this was an irrational fear based on cultural paradigms instilled by a patriarchal society that regarded the natural world as an exploitable resource, and hence believed that natural predators were in fact intolerable competitors.  Other people avoided the woods for fear of thieves and deviants, but Red Riding Hood felt that in a truly classless society all marginalized peoples would be able to "come out" of the woods and be accepted as valid lifestyle role models.

 

On her way to Grandma's house, Red Riding Hood passed a woodchopper, and wandered off the path, in order to examine some flowers.  She was startled to find herself standing before a Wolf, who asked her what was in her basket.

 

Red Riding Hood's teacher had warned her never to talk to strangers, but she was confident in taking control of her own budding sexuality, and chose to dialogue with the Wolf.  The Wolf said, "You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone."

 

Red Riding Hood replied, "I am taking my Grandmother some healthful snacks in a gesture of solidarity.  I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop an alternative and yet entirely valid worldview.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I would prefer to be on my way."

 

Red Riding Hood returned to the main path, and proceeded towards her Grandmother's house.  But because his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to linear, Western-style thought, the Wolf knew of a quicker route to Grandma's house.  He burst into the house and ate Grandma, a course of action affirmative of his nature as a predator.  Then, unhampered by rigid, traditionalist gender role notions, he put on Grandma's nightclothes, crawled under the bedclothes, and awaited developments.

 

Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said, "Grandma, I have brought you some cruelty-free snacks to salute you in your role of wise and nurturing matriarch."  The Wolf said softly, "Come closer, child, so that I might see you."  Red Riding Hood said, "Goddess!  Grandma, what big eyes you have!"

 

"You forget that I am optically challenged."

 

"And Grandma, what an enormous, fine nose you have."

 

"Naturally, I could have had it fixed to help my acting career, but I didn't give in to such societal pressures, my child."

 

"And Grandma, what very big, sharp teeth you have!"

 

The Wolf could not take any more of these speciesist slurs, and, in a reaction appropriate for his accustomed milieu, he leaped out of bed, grabbed Little Red Riding Hood, and opened his jaws so wide that she could see her poor Grandmother cowering in his belly.

 

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Red Riding Hood shouted bravely.  "You must request my permission before proceeding to a new level of intimacy!"

 

The Wolf was so startled by this statement that he loosened his grasp on her.

 

At the same time, the woodchopper burst into the cottage, brandishing an axe.

 

"Hands off!" cried the woodchopper.

 

"And what do you think you're doing?" cried Little Red Riding Hood.  "If I let you help me now, I would be expressing a lack of confidence in my own abilities, which would lead to poor self esteem and lower achievement scores on college entrance exams."
 
"Last chance, sister! Get your hands off that endangered species!" screamed the woodchopper, and when Little Red Riding Hood nonetheless made a sudden motion, he sliced off her head.

 

"Thank goodness you got here in time," said the Wolf.  "The brat and her grandmother lured me in here.  I thought I was a goner."

 

"No, I think I'm the real victim here," said the woodchopper. "I've been dealing with my anger ever since I saw her picking those protected flowers earlier.  Do you have any aspirin?"

 

"Sure," said the Wolf.  "Thanks.  I feel your pain."  And the Wolf patted the woodchopper on his back, gave a little belch, and asked, "Do you have any Maalox?"

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

The Washington Post's Style Invitational asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.  Here are some of the winners:

 

Reintarnation:  Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

 

Foreploy:  Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

 

Giraffiti:  Vandalism spray-painted very, very high up on walls.

 

Tatyr:  A lecherous Mr. Potato Head.

 

Sarchasm:  The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the recipient who doesn't get it.

 

Inoculatte:  To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

 

Hipatitis:  Terminal coolness.

 

Osteopornosis:  A degenerate disease.

 

Karmageddon:  It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right?  And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's, like, a serious bummer.

 

Glibido:  All talk and no action.

 

Dopeler effect:  The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

 

Intaxication:  Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

 

Ignoranus:  A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

 

Vuja De:  When you know something that has happened, will happen again.

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

A collection of Numbers of the Beast

 

     666             Number of the beast
     668             Neighbor of the beast
     660             Approximate number of the Beast
     DCLXVI          Roman numeral of the Beast
     666.0000        Number of the High Precision Beast
     0.666           Number of the Millibeast
     1/666           Common Denominator of the Beast
     666*(-1)^0.5    Imaginary number of the Beast
     1010011010      Binary of the Beast
     29A             Hexadecimal of the Beast
     -666            Negative number of the Beast
     00666           Zip code of the Beast
     $665.95         Retail price of the Beast
     $699.25         Price of the Beast plus 5% state sales tax
     $769.95         Price of the Beast with all accessories and replacement soul
     $656.66         Wal-Mart price of the Beast
     $646.66         Next week's Wal-Mart price of the Beast
     Phillips 666    Gasoline of the Beast
     Route 666       Way of the Beast
     665             Older brother of the Beast
     667             Younger brother of the Beast
     6-6-6           Fertilizer of the Beast
     666lb cap       Weight limit of the Beast
     666 F           Oven temperature for cooking roast "Beast"
     666k            Retirement plan of the Beast
     666 mg          Recommended Minimum Daily Requirement of Beast
     6.66%           5 year CD rate at First Beast of Hell, $666 minimum deposit.
     1-800-666-6666  Toll free number of the Beast
     Lotus 6-6-6     Spreadsheet of the Beast
     Word 6.66       Word Processor of the Beast
     i66686          CPU of the Beast
     666i            BMW of the Beast
     666-66-6666     Social security number of the Beast
     666.AC.com      URL of the Beast
     IAM 666         License plate number of the Beast
     Formula 666     All Purpose Cleaner of the Beast
     WD-666          Spray Lubricant of the Beast
     66.6 MHz        FM radio station of the Beast
     666 KHz         AM Radio station of the Beast

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

A Programmer and an Engineer were sitting next to each other on an airplane.  The Programmer leans over to the Engineer and asks if he wants to play a fun game.  The Engineer just wants to sleep so he politely declines, turns away and tries to sleep.  The Programmer persists and explains that it's a real easy game.  He explains, "I ask a question and if you don't know the answer you pay me $5.  Then you ask a question and if I don't know the answer I'll pay you $5." Again the Engineer politely declines and tries to sleep.

 

The Programmer, now somewhat agitated, says, "O.K., if you don't know the answer you pay me $5 and if I don't know the answer I pay you $50!"

 

Now, that got the Engineer's attention, so he agrees to the game. The Programmer asks the first question, "What's the distance from the earth to the moon?" Then Engineer doesn't say a word and just hands the Programmer $5.

 

Now it's the Engineer's turn. He asks the Programmer, "What goes up a hill with three legs and comes down on four?" The Programmer looks at him with a puzzled look, takes out his laptop computer, looks through all his references and after about an hour wakes the Engineer and hands the Engineer $50. The Engineer politely takes the $50 turns away and tries to return to sleep.

 

The Programmer, a little miffed, asks, "Well what's the answer to the question?" Without a word, the Engineer reaches into his wallet, hands $5 to the Programmer, turns away and returns to sleep.
 

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

Some of you may remember Chicago Tribune columnist Mary Schmich's 1997 commencement speech, filled with basic life advice for graduates - most notably, that they should wear sunscreen.  It made quite a splash at the time, and was even worked into a song a couple of years later. Here's a nice parody:

 

====================================================================

(Author Unknown)

 

Ladies and Gentlemen.....wear Leather.

 

If I could offer you only one tip for improving your life, leather would be it.

 

The long term benefits of leather have been proved by serious bikers over many highways and many years, whereas wearing something unreliable like shorts and flipflops means you will experience a trip to the emergency room. There, uncaring nurses will scrub gravel out of your wounds, and doctors will dispense ineffective painkillers and meaningless advice... like telling you to trade that "murdercycle" in for a Camry.

 

Bullsh!t. I will dispense some real advice right now:

 

Enjoy the power and beauty of your ride, if you don't already; you can fully enjoy it by doing block-long smoky burnouts in the parking lot at the local drive-in.

Trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at the photos of you and your pals on your bikes and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much fun you had and how fabulous you really looked hauling ass down the highway dressed in leather.

Leather is as sexy as you imagine.

 

Don't worry about what your Mom thinks; or worry, but know that worrying about what other people think is as effective as trying to scratch your nose in a blinding hailstorm at 80 m.p.h. with a full- face helmet and winter gloves on. The real troubles in your life are apt to be Volvo station wagons, driven by some dipstick talking into his cell phone or doing her makeup; the kind that blindside you at 4 PM on some urban roadway and then claim you crashed into THEM.

Do one thing everyday that scares other drivers.

 

Lanesplit.

 

Sing into your helmet. Use mouthwash first.

 

Don't be reckless with other people's bikes, especially if you don't have insurance. Don't put up with people who mess with yours.... in fact, beat them with a chain.

 

Ride Fast.

 

Don't waste your money on chrome, or fancy paintjobs; spend it on racing or partying. Sometimes you're fast, sometimes you're slow. Sometimes you're hungover. The ride is long, and in the end, a cold beer tastes pretty damn good.

 

Remember the good rides you've had, forget the cuts and bruises; try to wear out the sides of your tires before the middle.... if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

 

Keep your oil changed, throw away old traffic citations.

 

Take chances.

 

Don't feel guilty if you ride faster than the posted limit ...the most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 how to ride conservatively, all the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.

 

Get plenty of saddle time.

 

Be kind to your passengers, you'll miss them if they fall off.

 

Maybe you'll crash, maybe you won't, maybe you'll have surgery, maybe you won't, maybe you'll ride a cruiser off a cliff doing 40, maybe you'll get a new motocrosser for your 75th birthday ...whatever you ride, don't congratulate yourself too much - your choices are 90% foreign, 10% domestic; so are everyone else's.

 

Enjoy your bike, use it every way you can...don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it's the greatest instrument of pleasure you'll ever own, not counting porn sites and a fast modem.

 

Wrench... even if you have nowhere to do it but in your hotel room.

 

Read the owner's manual, even though you won't remember any of it.

 

Do not read American motorcycle magazines, they will only make you wish you'd bought a British one instead.

 

Get to know your brake pads, you never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your tires; they are your link to the pavement and the things most likely to save your butt from a nasty highside.

 

Understand that mechanics comes and mechanics go, but for a precious talented few you should pay them well and buy them sixpacks. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older your bike gets, the more you'll need the mechanic who worked on it when it was young and still not paid off.

 

Ride in New York City once, but leave before you get killed; ride in Northern California whenever possible, but leave a plausible excuse when calling in sick for work.

 

Do lurid wheelies.

 

Accept certain inalienable truths: prices will rise, traffic will get worse, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young, gasoline was cheap, the highway patrol couldn't catch you, and Harley owners weren't all yuppies.

 

Respect your rev-limiter.

 

Don't expect anyone else to see your bike unless it has really loud pipes.

 

Maybe your bike has a big gas tank, maybe a smaller one; but remember, either way you'll have to make bathroom stops.

 

Don't mess too much with your carburetors, or by the time you're done, you'll be walking home.

 

Be careful whose advice you buy, and save your receipts. Don't take advice from those who supply it for free, especially if they own a Britbike.

 

Motorcycle restoration is a form of self-torture. Doing it is a way of pulling the past from the dustbin, degreasing it, painting over the rusty parts and dumping way more money into it than it's worth.

 

But trust me on the leather...
 

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

From the Sunday, April 14, 1994 edition of the Washington Post.  It was a contest in which readers were asked to come up with excuses to miss a day of work:

 

-- < ----- > --

 

If it is all the same to you I won't be coming in to work. The voices told me to clean all the guns today.

 

When I got up this morning I took two Ex-Lax in addition to my Prozac. I can't get off the john, but I feel good about it.

 

I set half the clocks in my house ahead an hour and the other half back an hour Saturday and spent 18 hours in some kind of space-time continuum loop, reliving Sunday (right up until the explosion).  I was able to exit the loop only by reversing the polarity of the power source exactly e*log(pi) clocks in the house while simultaneously rapping my dog on the snout with a rolled up Times.  Accordingly, I will be in late, or early.

 

My stigmata's acting up.

 

I can't come in to work today because I'll be stalking my previous boss, who fired me for not showing up for work. OK?

 

I have a rare case of 48-hour projectile leprosy, but I know we have that deadline to meet. . .

 

I am stuck in the blood pressure machine down at the Giant.

 

Yes, I seem to have contracted some attention-deficit disorder and, hey, how about them Skins, huh?  So, I won't be able to, yes, could I help you?  No, no, I'll be sticking with Sprint, but thank you for calling.

 

Constipation has made me a walking time bomb.

 

The psychiatrist said it was an excellent session.  He even gave me this jaw restraint so I won't bite things when I am startled.

 

The dog ate my car keys.  We're going to hitchhike to the vet.

 

I prefer to remain an enigma.

 

My mother-in-law has come back as one of the Undead and we must track her to her coffin to drive a stake through her heart and give her eternal peace.  One day should do it.

 

I can't come to work today because the EPA has determined that my house is completely surrounded by wetlands and I have to arrange for helicopter transportation.

 

I am converting my calendar from Julian to Gregorian.

 

I am extremely sensitive to a rise in the interest rates.

 

My wife/husband makes more money than I do, so I have to stay at home with our sick son.

 

I refuse to travel to my job in the District until there is a commuter tax. I insist on paying my fair share.

 

I'm feeling a little disgruntled this morning.  You want I should come in?

[syntorz]

6 hours ago, Joe Frickin&#x27; Friday said:

From the Sunday, April 14, 1994 edition of the Washington Post.  It was a contest in which readers were asked to come up with excuses to miss a day of work:

 

Me: Boss, I'm calling in sick, I'm having trouble with my eyes.

 

Boss: What's wrong with your eyes?

 

Me: I just can't see coming in today.

[SDCRJohn]

[9Mary7]

4 hours ago, syntorz said:

Me: Boss, I'm calling in sick, I'm having trouble with my eyes.

 

Boss: What's wrong with your eyes?

 

Me: I just can't see coming in today.

We used to call that anal myopia.....when your eyes can't see your ass goin to work.

[Skywagon]

Well here are two funnies...one is sign over Rougs front door and the other one is our current astronauts who's taxi left home without them.

[Rougarou]

7 hours ago, Skywagon said:

Well here are two funnies...one is sign over Rougs front door and the other one is our current astronauts who's taxi left home without them.

 

 

Kinda true.

 

The wife's little yard flag before you step on front porch:

 

[John Ranalletta]

There was a two-year investigation and they found out the husbands who kiss their wives before they go to work live a staggering five years longer.  In a related study if you kiss somebody else's wife before you go to work your life expectancy is much less.

[duckhawk64]

On 9/7/2024 at 5:43 PM, Joe Frickin&#x27; Friday said:

The Washington Post's Style Invitational asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.  Here are some of the winners:

 

Reintarnation:  Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

 

Foreploy:  Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

 

Giraffiti:  Vandalism spray-painted very, very high up on walls.

 

Tatyr:  A lecherous Mr. Potato Head.

 

Sarchasm:  The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the recipient who doesn't get it.

 

Inoculatte:  To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

 

Hipatitis:  Terminal coolness.

 

Osteopornosis:  A degenerate disease.

 

Karmageddon:  It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right?  And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's, like, a serious bummer.

 

Glibido:  All talk and no action.

 

Dopeler effect:  The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

 

Intaxication:  Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

 

Ignoranus:  A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

 

Vuja De:  When you know something that has happened, will happen again.

Priceless, err Prideless.

[Bruno From Québec]

Ignoranus. Tee-hee!