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funny story
songdog
Member Posts: 355 ✭✭✭
One of my friends works at a gas station. The other day a lady pulled up and got out of her vehicle and asked, "Excuse me sir, but do you have a wisp broom?" Thinking she had spilled something in her car he responded, "No Ma'am, but if you'd like to pull around back, I could blow it out with an air-hose." With that she smacked him right across the face, hopped in her car and took off. He said, "It wasn't until she was halfway down the block that I realized that she had probably asked for a 'REST ROOM'."
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i know the usual suspect will say this story is fake but its 100% true. and no DWS, i wont give you a pic of her, home address and phone number so you can validate it.
My friend's Uncle Jim is a Central Florida redneck. He is an absolute hoot to be around, and if he ever takes you fishing or hunting, you will come out a winner. Well his best buddy John, had a cousin and his friend coming down from New Jersey. They wanted to go fishing and they wanted to catch fish, but they really didn't fit into this group of rowdy rebs, and were in fact, kind of annoying to the group.
Well the night came when they were going out to get some gator, and do some fishing. Jim had his boat set up for "monkey fishin'". Which pretty much is their code for shocking fish. Well, he knew that these NJ boys might not be real keen on the idea of shocking, so he came up with a plan. He made a fish call. The fish call was made of an old rubber hose w/ a funnel on the end. He taped long strips of alluminum foil to the end of the funnel to help with the "reverberation". It had some secret pieces in the tube, that he refused to disclose. It was, after all, a family secret. They took those boys out, and had them all drunked up, and blowing into this rubber hose. But, no fish would surface when the NJ boys were using it. So John would get up and say: Dammit give me that thing. He'd stick it into the water, blow into it, and Jim would pop the switch, and up would float the fish.
They had these NJ boys completely fooled. They were talking about how it was the most amazing thing they'd ever seen in their life. Well, they went home, and two days later they called. They apologized, and hoped he wouldn't mind, but they had contacted a patent attorney, and if he would just give them the plans on how to make that call, they could make him a millionare. He declined. He "just never had much use for money."
Ben
(I'm sure somebody will want to throw in some bad words for poachers. Go ahead, it is not an honorable sport.)
Play Ball!!!
Certified SIG pistol armorer/FFL Dealer/Full time Peace Officer, Egotistical Rogue, Evil, Dangerous Racist Moderator of the General Discussion Board on Gunbroker. Email davidnunn@texoma.net Jesus is Lord!
So my buddy and a couple other officers go over to the restaurant, and the door is unlocked, some lights still on, and there are some clothes scattered around. Doesn't look good. My buddy calls the station and some more cops are sent over, including the crime scene team.
The officers start widening the perimeter, and looking around outside the restaurant. They find another piece of clothing outside, and then another piece on the median in the middle of the road next to the restaurant. Across the road is a hotel, and they find a bra there on the lawn in front of the hotel.
The crime scene guys are snapping away, and out of the hotel comes some dude and says he needs the bra. The cops look at each other, and ask if the man knows Sally, or whatever her name is. Yeah, he says, I met her this evening and we got a room. The cops look over and there's Sally in the window, wrapped in a bed sheet and looking aghast.
My buddy said it was a VERY awkward conversation with the husband.
He approached the man and getting to the point he asked the man: Sir, what happened here?
The man responded: "Man, that woman in there is crazy! I come home, she's waiting for me in the living room. She started screaming at me that I slept with this girl down the road. Man she's crazy!!"
After a brief pause in the conversation, the cop was a little befuddled. So he begs the man how he got that cut on his head?
The man said: "Man that woman's crazy! She hit me in the head with a smoothy!"
The officer, a little more confused at this point, ask back: "So she hit you with a bowl?!"
The man snapped back: "Nah dawg, a smoothy!"
The officer even more confused now: "She hit you with a blender then?!"
The man even more frustrated said: "NAH MAN, A SMOOTHY!!!"
The officer is extremely confused at this point. He scratches his head for a second and ask's: "Sir, I'm confused. What's a smoothy?"
The man takes a breathe and replies: "You know dawg, your clothes get wrinkled and you take them home and smooth them out with a smoothy."
This was that once in a lifetime moment where cops just loose any bearing they have. He said he couldn't contain himself, he just starts busting up laughing. Not just one of those little chuckles, like he had to wipe the tears out off his face before he could go on. Then came back to the man: "Sir, I think you mean an iron?!"
payments of $560.00).
He and a friend go duck hunting in upper Wisconsin . It's mid-winter;
and of course all of the lakes are frozen. These two guys go out on
the ice with their GUNS, a DOG, and of course the new NAVIGATOR.
They decide they want to make a natural looking open water area for
the ducks to focus on, something for the decoys to float on.
Now making a hole in the ice large enough to invite a passing duck, is
going to take a little more power than the average drill auger can
produce.
So, out of the back of the new Navigator comes a stick of dynamite
with a short 40 second-fuse. Now our two Rocket Scientists, afraid
they might slip on the ice while trying to run away after lighting the
fuse (and becoming toast, along with the Navigator), decide on the
following course of action: they light the 40 second fuse; then, with
a mighty thrust, they throw the stick of dynamite as far away as
possible.
Remember a couple of paragraphs back when I mentioned the NAVIGATOR,
the GUNS, and the DOG
Let's talk about the dog: A highly trained Black Lab used for
RETRIEVING;
especially things thrown by the owner. You guessed it: the dog takes
off across the ice at a high rate of speed and grabs the stick of
dynamite, with the burning 40-second fuse, just as it hits the ice.
The two men swallow, blink, start waving their arms and, with veins in
their necks swelling to resemble stalks of rhubarb, scream and holler
at the dog to stop. The dog, now apparently cheered on by his master,
keeps coming.
One hunter panics, grabs the shotgun and shoots the dog. The shotgun
is loaded with #8 bird shot, hardly big enough to stop a Black Lab. The
dog stops for a moment, slightly confused, then continues on. Another
shot, and this time the dog, still standing, becomes really confused
and
of
course terrified, thinks these two geniuses have gone insane. The dog
takes off to find cover, UNDER the brand new Navigator.
The men continue to scream as they run. The red hot exhaust pipe on
the truck t! ouches the dog's rear end, he yelps, drops the dynamite
under
the truck and takes off after his master.
Then " "" "" "" "" " BOOOOOOOOOOOOM "" "" "" "" "" ! ! ! !
The truck is blown to bits and sinks to the bottom of the lake, leaving
the two idiots standing there with "I can't believe this just happened"
looks on their faces.
The insurance company says that sinking a vehicle in a lake by illegal
use of explosives is NOT COVERED by the policy. And he still had yet to
make the first of those $560.00 a month payments.
The dog is okay. . doing fine.
praise for answered prayers.
Suzie Smith stood and walked to the podium. She said, "I have a
praise. Two months ago, my husband, Tom, had a terrible bicycle wreck
and his scrotum was completely crushed. The pain was excruciating and
the doctors didn't know if they could help him. "
You could hear a muffled gasp from the men in the congregation as they
imagine the pain that poor Tom must have experienced.
"Tom was unable to hold me or the children," she went on, "and every
move caused him terrible pain." We prayed as the doctors performed a
delicate operation, and it turned out they were able to piece together
the crushed remnants of Tom's scrotum, and wrap wire around it to hold
it in place."
Again, the men in the congregation cringed and squirmed uncomfortably
as they imagined the horrible surgery performed on Tom.
"Now," she announced in a quivering voice, "thank the Lord, Tom is out
of the hospital and the doctors say that with time, his scrotum should
recover completely." All the men sighed with unified relief. The
pastor rose and tentatively asked if anyone else had something to say.
A man stood up and walked slowly to the podium.
He said, "I'm Tom Smith."
The entire congregation held its breath. "I just want to tell my wife
the word is sternum."
I'm not sure but it did make me laugh.
According to the Knight-Rider News Service, the inscription on the metal bands used by the U.S. Department of the Interior to tag migratory birds has been changed.
The bands used to bear the address of the Washington Biological Survey, abbreviated:
Wash. Biol. Surv.
until the agency received the following letter from an Arkansas camper:
"Dear Sirs:
While camping last week I shot one of your birds. I followed the cooking instructions on the leg band and I want to tell you, it was horrible."
The bands are now marked Fish and Wildlife Service.
Seems a very intoxicated female guest was in the lobby, wearing only a swimsuit. I contacted the lady, and she was very drunk. She also had a room in the hotel.
I tried to get her to go back to her room and sleep it off, and she was uncooperative. The hotel manager said that the guest had only paid for the previous night, and it was past check-out time, and the manager was not inclined to accept payment for another night, because of this guest's drunken disorderly behavior.
So, I asked the guest if there were anyone she could call to come get her. Again, a negative, and she was still loudly complaining about being so mistreated by the hotel staff.
Well, she was very drunk, and obnoxious, and she was no longer a paying guest of the hotel, and the manager wanted her off the premises. I had no choice, so I arrested her for public intoxication. I asked her if she wanted to get dressed, and she said no, so I took her into custody wearing only her swimsuit, and barefoot.
As I was taking her to my car, the manager came out said the woman still has a lot of stuff in her room, and wanted to know what to with it. I told her that I would not retrieve the property, but if she wanted to have the staff go for it, I would wait. She said the staff really isn't allowed to do that, but she made an exeption. Presently, two housekeepers showed up with two very large bags, and I took the lady, with baggage, in her swimsuit, to the county jail.
At the property window, I handed the bags over to the property officer. I had not opened them, and he logged them in. I booked the lady in and left.
A little while later, I got a call to go back to the jail and contact the property officer. I did, and he was all upset because "contraband" had been brought into his jail. Seems he had found a .38 revolver and ammo in one of the bags. Well, the lady had possessed those items lawfully in her hotel room, so there was no offense. I accepted the items from the property officer, and booked them into my property room for safekeeping. I left a receipt in the lady's property at the jail so that she could retrieve her gun and ammo when she was released.
Still later, I got another call to contact the property officer. He was going through the other bag and found a small quantity of marijuana and rolling papers. OK, now we have an offense, so I had to amend my report and add another charge. Simple possession, though. I didn't think it would be fair to charge her with bringing the dope into a penal institution, since it was I who brought it in.
I never did find out whether she got her pistol back.
The horror of blimps
Last week while travelling I stopped at a Zany Brainy store and saw that they had a blimp for sale. It's called Airship Earth, and it's a great big balloon with a map of the Earth on it, and two propellors hanging from the bottom. You blow up the balloon with helium put batteries in it, and you have a radio controll indoor blimp.
I'd seen these things for sale in Sharper Image catalogs for $60-$75. At Zany Brainy it was on clearance for $15. What a deal!
Last night my wife was playing tennis and it was just my daughter and I at home. I bought a small helium tank from a party store, and last night we put the blimp together.
Let me tell you, it's quite a blimp. It's huge. The balloon has like a 3 ft diameter.
We blew it up with the tank attacched the gondola with the propellors, and put in batteries.
Then we balanced the blimp for neutral bouyancy with this putty that came with it, so it hangs in the air by itself neither rising nor falling.
It was easy and fun, and then I blew up another balloon and made Mickey Mouse helium voices for my daughter.
My three year old girl loved it. We flew the blimp all over the house, terrorized the dog, attacked the fish tank, and the controls were so easy my daughter could fly.
Let's face it, blimps are fun.
Alas, the fun had to end and my daughter had to go to sleep. I left the blimp floating in my office downstairs, my wife came home, and we went to bed, and slept the sleep of the righteous.
At this point it is important to know that my house has central heating. I have it configured to blow hot air out on the ground floor and take it in at the second floor to take advantage of the fact that heat rises.
The blimp which was up until this moment a fun toy here embarked on a career of evil. Using the artificial convection of my central heating, the blimp stealthily departed my office. It moved silently through the living and drifted to the staircase. Gliding wraithlike over the staircase it then entered the bedroom where my wife and I lay sleeping peacefully.
Running silently, and gliding six feet or so above the ground on invisible and tiny air currects it approached the bed.
In spite of it's noiseless passage, or perhaps because of it, I awoke. That doesn't really say it properly. Let me try again.
I awoke, the way you awake at 2:00 AM when your sleeping senses suddenly tell you without reason that the forces of evil on converging on you.
That still doesn't do it. Let me try one more time.
I awoke the way you awake when you suddenly know that there is a large levitating sinister presence hovering towards you with menacing intent through the maligant darkness.
Now sometimes I do wake up in the middle of the night thinking that there are large sinister and menacing things floating out of the darkness to do me and mine evil. Usually I open my eyes, look and listen carefully, decide it was a false alarm, and go back to sleep.
So, the fact that I awoke in such a manner was not all that unusual.
On this occasion I awoke to the sense that there was a large menacing presence approaching me silently out of the gloom, so I opened my eyes, and there it was! A LARGE SILENT MENACING PRESENCE WAS APPROACHING ME OUT OF THE GLOOM, AND IT COULD FLY!!!
Somewhere in the control room of my mind a fat little dwarf in a security outfit was paging through a Penthouse while smoking a cigar with his feet up on the table, watching the security monitors of my brain with his peripheral vision. Suddenly he saw the LARGE SILENT SINSITER MENACING FLOATING PRESENCE coming at me, and he pulled every panic switch and hit every alarm that my body has. A full decade's allotment of adrenaline was dumped into my bloodstream all at once. My metabolism went from "recool itl sleep mode" to HOLY poop! FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE OR DIE!!!! mode" in a nanosecond. My heart went from twenty something beats per minute to about 240 even faster.
I always knew this was going to happen. I always knew that skepticism and science were mere psychological decorations and vanities. Deep in our alligator brains we all know that the world is just chock full of evil and monsters and sinister forces aligned against us, and it is only a matter of time until they show up. Evolution know this, too. It knows what to do when the silent terror comes at you from out of the dark.
When 50 million years worth of evolutionary survival instinct hits you all at once flat in the gut at 200 mph it is not a pleasant sensation.
Without volition I screamed my battle cry (which is indistinguishable to the sound a little girl makes when you drop a spider down her dress (not that I'd know what that sounds like,) and lept out of bed in my underwear.
I struck the approaching menace with all my strength and almost fell over at the total lack of resistance that a helium balloon offers when you punch the living poop out of it with all the stength that sudden middle of the night terror produces.
It's trajectory took it straight into the ceiling fan which whipped it about the room at terrifying velocity.
Seeking a weapon, I ripped the alarm clock out of its plug and hurled it at the now High Velocity Menacing presence (breaking the clock and putting a nice hole in the wall.)
Somehow at this moment I suddenly realized that I was fighting the blimp, and not a monster. It might have been funny if I didn't truly and actually feel like I was having a legitimate heart-attack.
On quivering legs I went to the bathroom and literally gagged into the toilet while shaking uncontrollably with the shock of the reaction I'd had.
Unbeleivably, both my wife and daughter had completely slept through the incident. When I decided that I wasn't having a heart attack after all I went back into the bedroom and found the blimp which had somehow survived the incident.
I took it to the walk in closet and released it inside where it floated around with the air currents released from the vents in there. I closed the door, this sealing it in, and went back to bed. About 500 years later I fell asleep.
***
At about 7 am my wife awoke. She had been playing tennis and wasn't aware that we have assembled the blimp the previous evening, and that is was now floating around the the walk-in closet that she approached.
The dyndamic between the existing air currents of the closet and the suction caused by opening the door was just enough to give the blimp the appearance of an Evil Sinister Menace flying straight towards her.
This time the blimp did not survive the encounter, nor almost, did I, as I had to explain to my very angry spouse what motivated me to hide an evil lurking presence in the closet for her to find at 7 am.
I can order replacement balloons on the internet but I don't think I will.
Some blimps are better off dead.
In ancient Israel, it came to pass that a rug trader by the name of
Abraham of the house of Com did take unto himself a young wife by the name of Dot. And Dot Com was a comely woman, broad of shoulder and long of leg. Indeed, in her younger years, she was known to some as 'Amazon Dot Com.' And she said unto Abraham, her husband, "Why must thou travel so far from town to town with all thy goods when thou can trade without ever leaving thy tent?"
And Abraham did look at her as though she were several saddle bags short of a camel load, but simply said, "How, dear?" And Dot replied, "I will place drums in all the towns and drums in between to send messages saying what you have for sale and they will reply telling you which offer the best price. And the sale can be made on the drums with deliveries made by Uriah's Pony Stable (UPS)."
Abraham thought long and decided he would let Dot have her way with the drums. And so it was that the drums rang out and were an immediate success. Abraham sold all the goods he had at the top price, without ever moving from his tent. But this success did arouse envy.
A man named Maccabia did secrete himself inside Abraham's drum and was accused of insider trading. And thus the young man, and others of his ilk, did take to Dot Com's trading as the greedy horsefly takes to camel dung. They were called Nomadic Enterprising Recklessly Devious Siderites, or NERDS for short.
And lo, the land was so feverish with joy at the new riches and the
deafening sound of drums that no one noticed that the real riches where going to the drum maker, one Brother William of Gates, who bought up every drum company in the land. And indeed did insist on making drums that would work only with Brother Gates' drumheads and drumsticks. And Dot did come to lament, "Oh, Abraham, what we have started is being taken over by others." And Abraham pondered, as he gazed out over the Bay of Ezekiel, or as it came to be known "E-Bay," he said, "We need a name that
reflects what we are." And Dot replied, "we are Young Ambitious Hebrew Owner/Operators." "YAHOO," said Abraham.
And that's really how it all began. It wasn't Al Gore after all!
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ATF