PLAY A little humor

Border Collie

Inactive
After enjoying re-reading the best flame ever
http://www.timebomb2000.com/vb/showthread.php?22363-%29-Best-flame-ever-%29

I wanted to share a couple other humorous items that still bring a smile to me.

==============
http://urbanlegends.about.com/library/blbyol3.htm
ESSAY: IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU, THE APPLICANT, BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION: ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?

I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.

I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I’m bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don’t perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me. I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

But I have not yet gone to college.
==================
http://www.netfunny.com/rhf/jokes/91q2/passing.html

I'd like you to meet someone. By appearance, he could
be almost any age, from thirty to seventy or beyond. You
never get a good look at him; a glance is all you can spare
him. He might be wealthy beyond any vision of vice and
avarice; he might be struggling to feed himself every day.
Is he a parent? An only child? You'll never know any of
these things. All you need to know about him is this: he's
in a slow car, and he's in front of YOU.

We've all met this man at one time or another. He's
the fellow who's afraid to pass the big truck, or the one
who swerves suddenly in front of you from the other lane,
narrowly avoiding the mile-long space between you and the
car behind you. And no matter how unlikely it seems that a
person of his cerebral fortitude could survive long enough
to win a driver's license, there he is, preventing you from
pursuing happiness at the velocity you'd prefer.

What can you do about the situation? Precious little,
unless by chance you're hurrying home from a survivalist
association meeting in the Rocky Mountains. In general,
though, you aren't equipped to remove the obstacle forcibly.
So you vent your frustration on yourself, your car, your
spouse and children, or any other destructible object within
reach. Your hands clench the steering wheel with knuckle-
bleaching force. You gnaw on your lip until it seems likely
to burst in a shower of blood. Your breath is soon three
times louder than usual, and more rhythmic and regular than
the tick of a metronome. The radio is playing your favorite
piece of music; doesn't it suddenly seem about as pleasant
and relaxing as fingernails on a chalkboard?

Still, you reason with a calmness as genuine as a
politician's promise to lower taxes, he'll probably move
over soon. He's just in your lane to pass that green Volvo
station wagon with the baby on board, right? Sure he is.
He has to be. See? There's a space in the right-hand lane,
and in his molluscule way, he's drawing nearer and nearer.
Here it comes, and... Okay. You'll grant him that. Maybe
that gap wasn't sufficiently wide to effect a safe transfer
of lanes. THIS one, though, is a gap of Cyclopean propor-
tions, a gap to make the Grand Canyon seem a mere sidewalk
crack. Aha! He's moving toward the right side of the lane.
His tires are bouncing on the little white bumps... and he
swerves back into his lane - YOUR lane - to the abrupt hor-ror of the multitudes to his rear.


A light bulb materializes above your head. If he won't
move over, you'll use this huge hole in traffic to pass HIM!
Won't that be a fitting punishment? The clodhopper, that
flea on wheels, will immediately see the error of his ways
as you rocket past at the light-bending speed of forty miles
an hour. Your heart rate descends to a measurable pace as
you dart deftly into the gap, delighting the sheiks as your
foot blasts gasoline into the engine.

The coxcomb learns his lesson well. He immediately
makes up for his past transgressions, following your exam-
ple. Like a playful dog, he speeds to your side. You
increase the stakes of the game, but he matches your bet.
You're nearing the front of the gulf. There's only one
chance now. Applying every milligram of power remaining in
your jet-powered jalopy, you open the throttle all the way.
Almost there... but it was not meant to be. Now it's brake
or be broken, and you slow, watching as the automotive embo-
diment of evil glides carelessly past. You regain your previous position, biding your time.

At last, after several blinding flashes of your
headlights and deafening blasts of your horn, the message
works its way through the labyrinthine depths of his per-
petually idle consciousness. By intent or coincidence, he
yields control of the left half of the road to you. Just to
show him how wrong he's been, you streak past him at what he
must think an absurd, inconceivable speed. Once he's out of
sight, you relax. Now the road is yours, to travel at your
whim. You smile, and the smog seems to clear from the air
slightly.

Glancing in your rear-view mirror, you see a car nearly
nudging yours, following you at a microscopic distance.
Your grin widens. The woman behind you must be as glad as
you are, to be past that moronic slowpoke.
===========

And lastly:

A lady was walking down the street to work and she saw a parrot on a perch in front of a pet store.
The parrot said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly." Well, the lady is furious!
She stormed past the store to her work.

On the way home she saw the same parrot and it said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly." She was incredibly ticked now.

The next day the same parrot again said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly."
The lady was so ticked that she went into the store and said that she would sue the store and kill the bird. The store manager replied profusely and promised he would make sure the parrot didn't say it again.

When the lady walked past the store that day after work the parrot called to her, "Hey lady."

She paused and said,"Yes?"

The bird said, "You know."

====
Border Collie
 
Top