Once upon a time, there lived a man who had a terrible passion for baked

beans. He loved them, but they always had an embarrassing and somewhat

lively reaction on him. One day he met a girl and fell in love. When it was

apparent that they would marry, he thought to himself "She'll never go for

me carrying on like that", so he made the supreme sacrifice and gave up

beans, and shortly after that they got married.

A few months later, on the way home from work, his car broke down and since they lived in the country, he called his wife and told her he would be late because he had to walk. On his way home, he passed a small cafe and the wonderful aroma of baked beans overwhelmed him.

Since he still had several miles to walk he figured he could walk off any

ill affects before he got home. So he went in and ordered, and before

leaving had three extra large helpings of baked beans. All the way home he

'putt-putted'. He 'putted' down one hill and 'putt-putted' up the next. By

the time he arrived home he felt reasonably safe.

His wife met him at the door and seemed some what excited. She exclaimed, "Darling, I have the most wonderful surprise for you for dinner tonight!" She put a blindfold on him, and led him to his chair at the head of the table and made him promise not to peek. At this point he was beginning to feel another one coming on. Just as she was about to remove the blindfold, the telephone rang. She again made him promise not to peek until she returned, and she went to answer the phone.

While she was gone, he seized the opportunity. He shifted his weight to one

leg and let go. It was not only loud, but *ripe* as a rotten egg. He had a

hard time breathing, so he felt for his napkin and fanned the air about him.

He had just started to feel better, when another urge came on. He raised his leg and 'rrriiiipppp!'. It sounded like a diesel engine revving, and smelled worse. To keep from gagging, he tried fanning his arms a while, hoping the smell would dissipate. Things had just about returned to normal when he felt another urge coming. He shifted his weight to his other leg and let go. This was a real blue ribbon winner; the windows rattled, the dishes on the table shook and a minute later the flowers on the table were dead. While keeping an ear tuned in on the conversation in the hallway, and keeping his promise of staying blindfolded, he carried on like this for the next ten minutes, farting and fanning them each time with his napkin.

When he heard the 'phone farewells' (indicating the end of his loneliness,

and freedom) he neatly laid his napkin on his lap and folded his hands on

top of it. Smiling contentedly, he was the picture of innocence when his

wife walked in.

Apologizing for taking so long, she asked if he had peeked at the dinner.

After assuring her he had not, she removed the blindfold and yelled,

"Surprise!!"

To his shock & horror, there were twelve dinner guests seated around the

table for his surprise birthday party.

Trouble Shooting!!!

This is a story related by Pat Routledge of Winnipeg, Ontario, about a

repair call he handled while living in England.

It is common practice in England to ring a telephone by signaling extra

voltage across one side of the two wire circuit and ground (earth in

England). When the subscriber answers the phone, it switches to the two wire

circuit for conversation. This method allows two parties on the same line to

be signaled without disturbing each other.

Anyway, an elderly lady with several pets called to say that her telephone

failed to ring when her friends called and on the few occasions when it did

ring her dog always barked first just before the ring. Pat proceeded to the

scene, curious to see this psychic dog.

He climbed the nearby pole, hooked his test set to the lady's line, and

dialed the number. The phone didn't ring. He tried again. The dog barked

loudly, followed by a ringing telephone. Climbing down the pole the amazed.

Pat found:

1. The dog was tied to the telephone systems ground post via a metal chain

and collar.

2. The dog was receiving 90 volts of signaling current.

3. After several such jolts, the dog would start barking and urinating on

the ground.

4. The wet ground now completed the circuit and the phone would ring.

Which goes to show you that some problems can be fixed just by pissing on

them.

Memo to all students:

In order to assure the highest levels of quality work and productivity from

students, it will be our policy to keep all students well taught through our

program of SPECIAL HIGH INTENSITY TEACHING (S.H.I.T.). We are trying to give

our students more S.H.I.T. than any other school. If you feel that you do

not receive your share of S.H.I.T. on the course, please see your lecturer.

You will be immediately placed at the top of the S.H.I.T. list, and our

lecturers are especially skilled at seeing that you get all the S.H.I.T. you

can handle.

Students who don't know S.H.I.T. will be placed in DEPARTMENTAL EDUCATIONAL

EVALUATION PROGRAMS (D.E.E.P. S.H.I.T.). Those who fail to take D.E.E.P.

S.H.I.T. seriously will have to go to EDUCATIONAL ATTITUDE TRAINING (E.A.T.

S.H.I.T.). Since our lecturers took S.H.I.T. before they graduated, they

don't have to do S.H.I.T. anymore, as they are all full of S.H.I.T. already.

If you are full of S.H.I.T., you may be interested in a job teaching others.

We can add your name to our BASIC UNDERSTANDING LECTURE LIST (B.U.L.L.

S.H.I.T.).

For students who are intending to pursue a career in management and

consultancy, we will refer you to the department of MANAGERIAL OPERATIONAL

RESEARCH EDUCATION (M.O.R.E. S.H.I.T.). This course emphasizes on how to

manage M.O.R.E. S.H.I.T. If you have further questions, please direct them

to our HEAD OF TEACHING, SPECIAL HIGH INTENSITY TRAINING (H.O.T. S.H.I.T.).

Thank you,

BOSS IN GENERAL

SPECIAL HIGH INTENSITY TEACHING

(B.I.G. S.H.I.T.)

Three guys walk in to a clothing store, the first guy goes up to the

sales person and says, "I'd like 7 pairs of underwear please. One for each

day of the week." The second guy walks up to the sales person and asks for

5 pairs of underwear, 5 for the week days when he's with his wife, and

then on the weekends he doesn't wear them because he's with his lover. The last guy asks for 12 pairs, the sales person looks confused so the guy

responds, "January, February, March,..."

A hillbilly was in court, charged with killing and eating a white spotted

owl, which is on the endangered species list. "Your honor, I didn't know. I

have 5 kids and we were hungry." A compassionate man, the judge let him go, if he promised never to do it again. On the way out of the courtroom, the judge asked, out of curiosity, what a white spotted owl tasted like. "Well, judge, its kind of like a cross between a bald eagle and a condor!"

Two old gents are rocking quietly on the porch of an old folks home in

England when Lady Bottomley, age 94 decides to streak the compound. She rips off her clothes and, starkers, toddles across the lawn. One gent looks up, "I say, wasn't that Lady Bottomley?" The other looks over his glasses, "I think so." The first asks, "Whatever was that she was wearing?" The other replies, "I don't know, but it certainly needed pressing!"

A lady walks into a bar with a duck under her arm. A drunk at the bar looks

up and says "where did you get that pig"? The lady barks back at the drunk

saying "that's not a pig that's a duck!!". The drunk says I wasn't talking

to you I was talking to the duck.

A horse walks into a bar and the bartender says, "Why the long face?"

Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street bald and still think they are beautiful.

There was a middle-aged man named Steve who decided to return to college to pursue a degree. Not being sure of what he wanted to take, he begin to look around campus at all the different colleges. He saw the college of Physics, the college of Sociology, the college of Psychology and the college of Assuming. Having never heard of a college of Assuming, Steve was puzzled. While he stood there pondering what it was, the Dean of the college happened by and inquired if he could help.

Steve replied, "I've never heard of the college of Assuming. What is it?"

"Well, I'm the Dean of the college. Here in the College of Assuming, we take Assumption to a new art form." said the Dean.

"I still don't understand," replied Steve.

"Let's try this. Can I assume you have a dog?" asked the Dean.

"Why yes, I do have a dog." replied Steve.

"And can I assume that you have a backyard for your dog to play in?"

inquired the Dean.

"Why yes, I do have a backyard for my dog." said Steve.

"Ok, and can I further assume that because you have a backyard you also have a house." said the Dean.

"Why yes, I do have a house." said Steve beginning to be amazed.

"Now, because you have a house and a dog, and a backyard, can I then assume that you have a wife." said the Dean flatly.

"That's amazing! Yes, I do have a wife." said Steve.

"Then because you have a wife, can I assume you are not gay?" inquired the

Dean.

"Why no, I'm not gay." replied Steve.

"There you see," stated the Dean. "From the simple fact of assuming you had a dog, I was able to assume you had a house with a backyard, a wife, and you are not gay."

Clearly amazed, Steve enrolled in the class of assumptions. One day, about

three weeks later while waiting for class to start, Steve saw a very puzzled man in the halls. Wanting to try his new skills and be of assistance, Steve approached the man.

"Can I help you?" inquired Steve.

"Why yes." replied the man. "What is the college of Assuming?"

Delighted, Steve replied, "The College of Assuming takes Assumption to a new art form."

"I'm still not sure I understand." replied the man.

"Well let me give you an example." said Steve. "Do you own a dog?"

"Well no," replied the man.

Steve quickly stepped back and said, "You fag!"

An old woman came into her doctor's office and confessed to an embarrassing problem. "I fart all the time, Doctor Johnson, but they're soundless, and they have no odor. In fact, since I've been here, I've farted no less than twenty times. What can I do?"

"Here's a prescription, Mrs. Harris. Take these pills three times a day for

seven days and come back and see me in a week."

Next week an upset Mrs. Harris marched into Dr. Johnson's office. "Doctor, I don't know what was in those pills, but the problem is worse! I'm farting

just as much, but now they smell terrible! What do you have to say for

yourself?"

"Calm down, Mrs. Harris," said the doctor soothingly. "Now that we've fixed

your sinuses, we'll work on your hearing!!!"

A couple was invited to a swanky Halloween/Masquerade party. The woman got a terrible headache and told her husband to go to the party alone. He, being the devoted husband, protested. But she urged him to go. She was going to take some aspirin and go to bed. There was no need to spoil his good time. So he took his costume and away he went.

The wife, after sleeping soundly for one hour, awakened without the

headache. As it was still early, she decided to go to the party too. In as

much as her husband did not know what her costume was, she thought she would have some fun by watching her husband to see how he acted when she was not with him.

She joined the party and soon saw her husband cavorting around on the dance floor, dancing with every nice chick he could, and copping a little feel here and a little kiss there. His wife sidled up to him and being a rather seductive babe herself, he left his partner high and dry to devote his time to the new "stuff" that had just arrived.

She let him go as far as he wished; naturally, since he was her husband.

Finally, he whispered a little proposition in her ear and she agreed, so off

they went to one of the cars and had a little "tumble". Just before

unmasking at midnight, she slipped a way and went home. She put her costume away and went into bed, wondering what kind of explanation he would make for his behavior.

She was sitting up reading when he came in and asked what kind of time he had. He said, "Oh, the same old thing. You know I never have a good time

when you're not there."

Then she asked, "Did you dance much?"

He replied, "I'll tell you. I never even danced one dance. When I got there,

I met Pete, Bill and some other guys. We went into the den and played poker all night. But I'll tell you, the guy I lent my costume to sure had a good time!"

So How'd You Break Your Arm??

A friend just got back from a holiday ski trip to Utah with the kind of

story that warms the cockles of anybody's heart. Conditions were perfect. 12 below, no feeling in the toes, basic numbness all over, "tell me when we're having fun" kind of day.

One of the women in the group complained to her husband that she was in dire need of a restroom. He told her not to worry, that he was sure there was relief waiting at the top of the lift in the form of a powder room for

female skiers in distress. He was wrong, of course, and the pain did not go

away.

If you've ever had nature hit its panic button in you, then you know that a

temperature of 12 below zero doesn't help matters. So, with time running

out, the woman weighted her options.

Her husband, picking up on the intensity of the pain, suggested that since

she was wearing an all-white ski outfit, she should go off in the woods. No one would even notice, he assured her. The white will provide more than adequate camouflage. So she headed for the tree line, began disrobing and proceeded to do her thing. If you've ever parked on the side of a slope,

then you know there is a right way and wrong way to set up your skis so you don't move. Yeah, you got it. She had them positioned the wrong way.

Steep slopes are not forgiving, even during embarrassing moments. Without warning, the woman found herself skiing backward, out-of-control, racing through the trees, somehow missing all of them, and into another slope. Her derriere and the reverse side were still bare, her pants down around her knees, and she was picking up speed all the while.

She continued on backwards, totally out-of-control, creating an unusual

vista for the other skiers.

The woman skied, if you define that verb loosely, back under the lift and

finally collided violently with a pylon. The bad news was that she broke her arm and was unable to pull up her ski pants. At long last her husband

arrived, put an end to her nudie show, then went to the base of the mountain and summoned the ski patrol, who transported her to a hospital.

In the emergency room she was regrouping when a man with an obviously broken leg was put in the bed next to hers.

"So. how did you break your leg?" she asked, making small talk.

"It was the weirdest thing you ever saw," he said. "I was riding up this ski

lift, and suddenly I couldn't believe my eyes. There was this crazy woman

skiing backward out-of-control down the mountain with her bare bottom

hanging out of her clothes and pants down around her knees."

"I leaned over to get a better look and I guess I didn't realize how far I'd

moved. I fell out of the lift."

"So, how did you break your arm?"

President Clinton wakes up to a beautiful winter morning. The sun is

shining, the air is crisp, and there is a light blanket of snow on the

ground.

President Clinton looks out the window at the snow-covered White House lawn

and sees the words "President Clinton sucks" written in piss in the snow.

President Clinton gets all upset and calls White House Security. He tells

them he doesn't care what is takes but he wants to know who did this.

Security returns in a couple of days to the President and tells him that

they have good news, bad news, and real bad news. "OK," says Clinton. "Give

me the good news first, then the bad news, and then the real bad news."

"The good news is after taking analysis of the piss we know who the culprit is."

"The bad news is the culprit is Vice President Gore." This news really

upsets the President. "And the real bad news?"

"It's in your wife's hand writing".

Beethoven's Death

When Beethoven passed away, he was buried in a churchyard. A couple days

later, the town drunk was walking through the cemetery and heard some

strange noise coming from the area where Beethoven was buried. Terrified, the drunk ran and got the priest to come and listen to it. The priest bent close to the grave and heard some faint, unrecognizable music coming from the grave. Frightened, the priest ran and got the town magistrate.

When the magistrate arrived, he bent his ear to the grave, listened for a

moment, and said, "Ah, yes, that's Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, being played backwards."

He listened a while longer, and said, "There's the Eighth Symphony, and it's

backwards, too. Most puzzling." So the magistrate kept listening; "There's

the Seventh... the Sixth... the Fifth..."

Suddenly the realization of what was happening dawned on the magistrate; he stood up and announced to the crowd that had gathered in the cemetery, "My fellow citizens, there's nothing to worry about.

It's just Beethoven decomposing."

This guy goes to a bar that's on the top floor of a large hotel. He sits down and has a couple of drinks, then stands up, announces loudly that he has had enough, goes over and jumps out the window. There are two men who are sitting at a window table, and having that natural human curiosity about the grotesque watch as this man plummets to certain death. However, just as he is about to hit the ground, he rights himself, pulls his feet underneath himself, and lands gracefully. He then turns and comes back into the building. Naturally, the two men are amazed.

The guy comes back into the bar, orders a few drinks, then repeats the process. The two men at the window seat are astounded! When the guy returns and repeats the procedure AGAIN, the two men stop him before he jumps and ask him how on earth he does that.

He replies "It's simple, really. There's an air vent down by the ground; when you catch the updraft, you can right yourself and land on the ground with no problems." Then he proceeded to jump out the window again. Well, these two men decided that they just HAD to try this, so they jumped out the window, and SPLAT! SPLAT! -- made a mess hitting all over the ground.

Meanwhile, the first guy has made it back up to the bar. When he sits down to order his drinks, the bartender says to him, "You know, Superman, you can be a real asshole when you're drunk."

I had eighteen bottles of whiskey in my cellar and was told by my

sister to empty the contents of each and every bottle down the sink, or

else... I said I would and proceeded with the unpleasant task. I

withdrew the cork from the first bottle and poured the contents down the

sink with the exception of one glass, which I drank. I then withdrew the

cork from the second bottle and did likewise with it, with the exception

of one glass, which I drank. I then withdrew the cork from the third

bottle and poured the whiskey down the sink which I drank. I pulled the

cork from the fourth bottle down the sink and poured the bottle down the

glass, which I drank. I pulled the bottle from the cork of the next and

drank one sink out of it, and threw the rest down the glass. I pulled

the sink out of the next glass and poured the cork down the bottle. Then

I corked the sink with the glass, bottled the drink and drank the pour.

When I had everything emptied, I steadied the house with one hand

counted the glasses, corks, bottles, and sinks with the other, which

were twenty-nine, and as the houses came by I counted them again, and

finally I had all the houses in one bottle, which I drank. I'm not under

tha affluence of incohol as some tinkle peep I am. I'm not half as thunk

as you might drink. I fool so feelish I don't know who is me, and the

drunker I stand here, the longer I get.

Four gents go out to play golf one sunny morning. One is detained in

the clubhouse, and the other three are discussing their children while

walking to the first tee. "My son," says one, "has made quite a name for

himself in the home-building industry. He began as a carpenter, but now owns his own design and construction firm. He's so successful in fact, in the last year he was able to give a good friend a brand new home as a gift."

The second man, not to be outdone, allows how his son began his career as a car salesman, but now owns a multi-line dealership. "He's so successful, in fact, in the last six months he gave a friend two brand new cars as a gift."

The third man continues on how his son has worked his way up through a

stock brokerage firm and in the last few weeks has given a good friend a

large stock portfolio as a gift.

As the fourth man arrives at the tee box, another tells him that they have

been discussing their progeny and asks what line his son is in.

"To tell the truth, I'm not very pleased with how my son has turned out," he replies. "For fifteen years, he's been a hairdresser, and I've just recently discovered he's a practicing homosexual. But, on the bright side, he must be good at what he does because his last three boyfriends have given him a brand new house, two cars, and a big pile of stock certificates."

For decades, two heroic statues, one male and one female, faced each other in a city park, until one day an angel came down from heaven.

"You've been such exemplary statues," he announced to them, "That I'm

going to give you a special gift. I'm going to bring you both to life for

thirty minutes, in which you can do anything you want." And with a clap of

his hands, the angel brought the statues to life.

The two approached each other a bit shyly , but soon dashed for the

bushes, from which shortly emerged a good deal of giggling, laughter, and

shaking of branches. Fifteen minutes later, the two statues emerged from the bushes, wide grins on their faces.

"You still have fifteen more minutes," said the angel, winking

conspiratorially.

Grinning even more widely the female statue turned to the male statue

and said, "Great! Only this time you hold the pigeon down and I'll poop on

its head."