Archive for February, 2008
A lesson to be learned from typing the wrong email address!!!!
A Minneapolis couple decided to go to Florida to thaw out during a particularly icy winter. They planned to stay at the same hotel where they spent their honeymoon 20 years earlier.
Because of hectic schedules, it was difficult to coordinate their travel schedules. So, the husband left Minnesota and flew to Florida on Thursday, with his wife flying down the following day.
The husband checked into the hotel. There was a computer in his room, so he decided to send an email to his wife. However, he accidentally left out one letter in her email address, and without realizing his error, sent the email.
Meanwhile, somewhere in Houston, a widow had just returned home from her husband’s funeral. He was a minister who was called home to glory following a heart attack.
The widow decided to check her email expecting messages from relatives and friends. After reading the first message, she screamed and fainted. The widow’s son rushed into the room, found his mother on the floor, and saw
the computer screen which read:
To: My Loving Wife
Subject: I’ve Arrived
Date: January 26, 2008
I know you’re surprised to hear from me. They have computers here now and
you are allowed to send emails to your loved ones.
I’ve just arrived and have been checked in. I’ve seen that everything has been prepared for your arrival tomorrow. Looking forward to seeing you then!!!!
Hope your journey is as uneventful as mine was.
P.S. Sure is freaking hot down here!!!!
If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome, including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have you laughing out LOUD!
Overview: I had to take my son’s lizard to the vet.
Here’s what happened:
Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was “something wrong” with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room.
“He’s just lying there looking sick,” he told me. “I’m serious, Dad. Can you help?”
I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.
“Honey,” I called, “come look at the lizard!”
“Oh, my gosh!” my wife exclaimed. “She’s having babies.”
“What?” my son demanded. “But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom !”
I was equally outraged.
“Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn’t want them to reproduce,” I said accusingly to my wife.
“Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?” she inquired (I think she actually said this
sarcastically…
“No, but you were supposed to get two boys!” I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet
voice, while gritting my teeth).
“Yeah, Bert and Ernie!” my son agreed.
“Well, it’s just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know,” she informed me (Again with the sarcasm).
By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make
the best of it.
“Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,” I announced. “We’re about to witness the miracle
of birth.”
“Oh, gross!” they shrieked
“Well, isn’t THAT just great? What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?” my wife wanted to know.
We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.
“We don’t appear to be making much progress,” I noted.
“It’s breech,” my wife whispered, horrified.
“Do something, Dad!” my son urged.
“Okay, okay.” Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.
“Should I call 911?” my eldest daughter wanted to know.
“Maybe they could talk us through the trauma.” (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)
“Let’s get Ernie to the vet,” I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.
“Breathe, Ernie, breathe,” he urged.
“I don’t think lizards do Lamaze,” his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for God’s sake.).
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.
“What do you think, Doc, a C-section?” I suggested scientifically.
“Oh, very interesting,” he murmured. “Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?”
I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
“Is Ernie going to be okay?” my wife asked.
“Oh, perfectly,” the vet assured us. “This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn’t EVER going to happen.
Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most
male species, they um . . um . . . masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back.” He blushed,
glancing at my wife.
We were silent, absorbing this.
“So, Ernie’s just just . . . excited,” my wife offered.
“Exactly,” the vet replied , relieved that we understood.
More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit
the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.
Tears were now running down her face. “It’s just that . . I’m picturing you pulling on its . . . its. . . teeny, little ,,,,” She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
“That’s enough,” I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the lizard and our son back into
the car.. He was glad everything was going to be okay.
“I know Ernie’s really thankful for what you did, Dad,” he told me.
“Oh, you have NO idea,” my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
Two lizards: $140.
One cage: $50.
Trip to the vet: $30.
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard’s winkie: Priceless!
Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class.
Lizards lay eggs!
The Alabama preacher said to his congregation,”Someone in this congregation has
spread a rumor that I belong to the Ku Klux Klan. This is a horrible lie and one
which a Christian community cannot tolerate. I am embarrassed and do not intend to accept this. Now, I want the party who did this to stand and ask forgiveness
from God and this Christian Family.”
No one moved.
The preacher continued, “Do you have the nerve to face me and
admit this is a falsehood? Remember, you will be forgiven and in your heart you
will feel glory. Now stand and confess your transgression.”
Again all was quiet.Then slowly, a drop-dead gorgeous blonde with a body that would stop traffic
rose from the third pew. Her head was bowed and her voice quivered as she spoke,
“Reverend there has been a terrible misunderstanding. I never said you were a member of the Ku Klux Klan. I simply told a couple of my friends that you were a
wizard under the sheets.”
A lawyer runs a stop sign and gets pulled over
by a sheriff’s deputy.
He thinks that he is smarter than the deputy
because he is a lawyer
from New York and is certain that he has a
better education then any
cop from Houston , Texas . He decides to prove
this to himself and
have some fun at the Texas deputy’s expense.
The deputy says,” License and registration,
please.”
“What for?” says the lawyer.
The deputy says, “You didn’t come to a complete
stop at the stop sign.”
Then the lawyer says, “I slowed down, and no
one was coming.”
“You still didn’t come to a complete stop”,
Says the deputy. “License
and registration, please.”
The lawyer says, “What’s the difference?”
“The difference is you have to come to complete
stop, that’s the law.
License and registration, please!” the Deputy
says.
Lawyer says, “If you can show me the legal
difference between slow
down and stop, I’ll give you my license and
registration; and you give
me the ticket. If not, you let me go and don’t
give me the ticket.”
“That sounds fair. Please exit your vehicle,
sir,” the deputy says.
At this point, the deputy takes out his
nightstick and starts beating
the ever-loving @#$@ out of the lawyer and
says, “Do you want me to
stop, or just slow down?”
Two prostitutes were walking, one said “Girl, we gonna get PAID tonight! I can smell dick in the air.”
The other laughed and said “Bitch, I burped.”
Q. What does HMO stand for?
A. This is actually a variation of the phrase, “HEY MOE.” Its roots go back to a concept pioneered by Moe of the Three Stooges, who discovered that a patient could be made to forget the pain in his foot if he was poked hard enough in the eye.
Q. I just joined an HMO. How difficult will it be to choose the doctor I want?
A. Just slightly more difficult than choosing your parents. Your insurer will provide you with a book listing all the doctors in the plan. The doctors basically fall into two categories: those who are no longer accepting new patients, and those who will see you but are no longer participating in the plan. But don’t worry, the remaining doctor who is still in the plan and accepting new patients has an office just a half-day’s drive away and a diploma from a third world country.
Q. Do all diagnostic procedures require pre-certification?
A. No. Only those you need.
Q. Can I get coverage for my preexisting conditions?
A. Certainly, as long as they don’t require any treatment.
Q. What happens if I want to try alternative forms of medicine?
A. You’ll need to find alternative forms of payment.
Q. My pharmacy plan only covers generic drugs, but I need the name brand. I tried the generic medication, but it gave me a stomachache. What should I do?
A. Poke yourself in the eye.
Q. What if I’m away from home and I get sick?
A . You really shouldn’t do that.
Q. I think I need to see a specialist, but my doctor insists he can handle my problem. Can a general practitioner really perform a heart transplant right in his/her office?
A. Hard to say, but considering that all you’re risking is the $20 co-payment, there’s no harm in giving it a shot.
Q. Will health care be different in the next decade?
A. No, but if you call right now, you might get an appointment by then.
Rrriiiiinnnnggg, rrriiiinnnngg,
‘Hello?’
Hi honey. This is Daddy. Is Mommy near the phone?’
‘No, Daddy. She’s upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul.’
After a brief pause,
Daddy says, ‘But honey, you haven’t got an Uncle Paul.’
‘Oh yes I do, and he’s upstairs in the room with Mommy, Right now.’
Brief Pause.
‘Uh, okay then, this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down on
the table, run upstairs and knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy
that Daddy’s car just pulled into the driveway.’
‘Okay, Daddy, just a minute.’
A few minutes later the little girl comes back to the phone.
‘I did it, Daddy.’
‘And what happened, honey?’ He asked.
‘Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed with no clothes on and
ran around screaming.
Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser and now she
isn’t moving at all!’
‘Oh my God!!! What about your Uncle Paul?’
‘He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too.’
He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window and into the
swimming pool. But I guess he didn’t know that you took out the water last
week to clean it. He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he’s
dead.’
Long Pause
Longer Pause
Even Longer Pause
Then Daddy says,
‘Swimming pool? ………..Is this 486-5731?’
No, I think you have the wrong number…….
You are in the middle of some kind of project around the house. You’re Mowing the lawn, putting a new fence in, painting the living room, or whatever. You are hot and sweaty; Covered in dirt or paint. You have your old work clothes on. You know the outfit - shorts with the hole in crotch, old t-shirt with a stain from who knows what and an old pair of tennis shoes.
Right in the middle of this great home improvement project you realize you need to run to Wal-Mart to get something required to complete the job.
Depending on your age you might do the following:
In your 20’s:
Stop what you are doing. Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush your teeth, floss and put on clean clothes. Check yourself in the mirror and flex. Add a dab of your favorite cologne because you never know, you just might meet some hot chick while standing in the checkout lane. You went to school with the pretty girl running the register.
In your 30’s:
Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change shoes. You married the hot chick so no need for much else. Wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. You still got it. Add a shot of your favorite cologne to cover the smell. The cute girl running the register is the kid sister to someone you went to school with.
In your 40’s:
Stop what you are doing. Put a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover the hole in the crotch of your shorts. Put on different shoes and a hat. Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brute Cologne is almost empty so you don’t want to waste any of it on a trip to Wal-Mart. Check yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing. The spicy young thing running the register is your daughter’s age and you feel weird thinking she is spicy.
In your 50’s:
Stop what you are doing. You put a hat on, wipe the dirt off your hands onto your shirt. Change shoes because you don’t want to get dirt in your new sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and you swear not to wear that shirt anymore because it makes you look fat. The cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think you still have it. Then you remember the hat you have on is from your buddy’s bait shop and it says, ‘I Got Worms.’
In your 60’s:
Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat anymore. Hose the dog crap off your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your 50’s. You hope you have underwear on so nothing hangs out the hole in your pants. The girl running the register may be cute but you don’t have your glasses on so you are not sure.
In your 70’s
Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to Wal-Mart until they have your prescriptions ready too. Don’t even notice the dog crap on your shoes. The young thing at the register smiles at you because you remind her of her grandfather.
In your 80’s:
Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you remember that you needed to go to Wal-Mart. Go to Wal-Mart and wander around trying to think what it is you are looking for. Fart out loud and you think someone called out your name. The old lady that greeted you at the front door went to school with you.