Three women were sitting around talking about their husbands' performance as a lover.

The first woman says, "My Husband works as a marriage counselor.  He always buys me flowers and candy before we make love. I like that."

The second woman says, "My husband is a motorcycle mechanic.  He likes to play rough and slaps me around sometimes.  I kind of like that."

The third woman just shakes her head and says, "My husband works for Microsoft. He just sits on the edge of the bed and tells me how great it's going to be when I get it."

A woman was terribly overweight, so her doctor put her on a diet. "I want you to eat regularly for 2 days, then skip a day, and repeat this procedure for 2 weeks.  The next time I see you, you'll have lost at least 5 pounds."

When the woman returned, she shocked the doctor by losing nearly 20 pounds. "Why, that's amazing!" the doctor said, "Did you follow my instructions?"

The woman nodded.  "I'll tell you though, I thought I was going to drop dead that 3rd day."

"From hunger, you mean?"

No, from skipping."

According to our inside contacts the Japanese banking crisis shows no signs of ameliorating.  If anything, it's getting worse.

Following last week's news that Origami Bank had folded, we are hearing that Sumo Bank has gone belly up and Bonsai Bank's growth has been stunted and now it plans to cut back some of its branches.  Karaoke Bank is up for sale and is (you guessed it!) going for a song.

Meanwhile, shares in Kamikaze Bank have nose-dived and 500 back office staff at Karate Bank got the chop.  Analysts report that there is something fishy going on at Sushi Bank and staff there fear they may get a raw deal.  Even Miso Bank is in the soup, and an audit of the Tofu Bank is turning up questions about it's REAL assets.

The only ray of light in all this is the arrival of a new bank rising out of the ashes of the others.  Its name - Hiroshima Savings - and their slogan - "we've survived worse than this!".  Its merger with the Teppanyaki Bank is still hot and on the table.

  A Briton, a Frenchman and a Russian are viewing a painting of Adam and Eve frolicking in the Garden of Eden.

"Look at their reserve, their calm," muses the Brit. "They must be British."

"Nonsense," the Frenchman disagrees. "They're naked, and so beautiful.  Clearly, they are French."

"No way!  They have no clothes and no shelter," the Russian points out, "They have only an apple to eat, and they are being told they live in a paradise.  Obviously, they are Russian."

Sometimes women are overly suspicious of their husbands.  When Adam stayed out very late for a few nights, Eve became upset. 

"You're running around with other women."  she charged.

"You're being unreasonable," Adam responded.  "You're the only woman on Earth."

The quarrel continued until Adam fell asleep, only to be awakened by someone poking him in the chest. It was Eve.

"What do you think you're doing?"  Adam demanded.

"Counting your ribs," replied Eve.

A senior citizen decided to visit the social security office to sign up for his benefits.  Upon his arrival the clerk asked for proof of his age. When he reached for his wallet the embarrassed man realized he had left it home. After explaining his problem to the clerk, she replied, "Don't worry, just open your shirt, and if your chest hair is gray you will qualify."  The senior citizen opened up his shirt and was soon signed up for his benefits.

Upon arriving home, he related the story to his wife. She looked at him, smiled and said, "Too bad you didn't drop your pants. You would have qualified for disability too!"

A friend of mine visited the doctor recently. He complained "Doctor, I get this terrible pain everytime I pass water".

The doctor asked him to supply a small sample for analysis and this my friend did. He said it would be sent to the laboratory for analysis and asked my friend to come back the following week to discuss the results.

Duly, the following week my friend went back and the doctor said he had received the laboratory report back and it had been negative. "I can find nothing wrong with you from the sample you supplied. When did you last get the pain?"

My friend replied "When I walked across Westminster bridge"

Joe was moderately successful in his career, but as he got older he was increasingly hampered by incredible headaches. When his personal hygiene and love life started to suffer, he sought medical help.

After being referred from one specialist to another, he finally came across a doctor who solved the problem.  "The good news is I can cure your headaches... The bad news is that it will require castration. You have a very rare condition which causes your testicles to press up against the base of your spine. The pressure creates one hell of a headache. The only way to relieve the pressure is to remove the testicles." 

Joe was shocked and depressed. He wondered if he has anything to live for. He couldn't concentrate long enough to answer, but decided he had no choice but to go under the knife. 

When he left the hospital, his mind was clear, but he felt like he was missing an important part of himself. As he walked down the street, he realized that he felt like a different person. He could make a new beginning and live a new life. 

He walked past a men's clothing store and thought, "That's what I need: a new suit." He entered the shop and told the salesman, "I'd like a new suit."  The salesman eyed him briefly and said, "Let's see... size 44 long."  Joe laughed, "That's right, how did you know?"  "It's my job." 

Joe tried on the suit. It fit perfectly. As Joe admired himself in the mirror, the salesman asked, "How about a new shirt?" Joe thought for a moment and then said, "Sure..."  The salesman eyed Joe and said, "Let's see... 34 sleeve and... 16 and a half neck"  Joe was surprised, "That's right, how did you know?"  "It's my job." 

Joe tried on the shirt, and it fit perfectly. As Joe adjusted the collar in the mirror, the salesman asked, "How about new shoes?"  Joe was on a roll and said, "Sure ..."  The salesman eyed Joe's feet and said, "Let's see... 9-1/2... E."  Joe was astonished, "That's right, how did you know?"  "It's my job."

Joe tried on the shoes and they fit perfectly. Joe walked comfortably around the shop and the salesman asked, "How about a new hat?"  Without hesitating, Joe said, "Sure..."  The salesman eyed Joe's head and said, "Let's see... 7-5/8." Joe was incredulous, "That's right, how did you know?"  "It's my job." 

The hat fit perfectly. Joe was feeling great, when the salesman asked, "How about some new underwear?"  Joe thought for a second and said, "Sure..."  The salesman stepped back, eyed Joe's waist and said, "Let's see... size 36."  Joe laughed, "No, I've worn size 34 since I was 18 years old."  The salesman shook his head, "You can't wear a size 34. It would press your testicles up against the base of your spine and give you one hell of a headache." 

Many people are at a loss for a response when someone says: You don't know Jack Schitt." Now you can handle this situation. You can tell them that not only do you know Jack Schitt, you know his entire family:

Jack Schitt is the only son of Awe Schitt and Oh Schitt. Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, married Oh Schitt, the owner of Knee-deep N. Schitt Inc.

In turn, Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt and the deeply religious couple produced six children: Holy Schitt, their first, nfortunately passed on shortly after childbirth. Next came twin sons, Deep Schitt and Dip Schitt; two daughters, Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt; and another son Bull Schitt.

Against his parent's objections, Deep Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school dropout!   Dip Schitt married Lotta Schitt and they produced a son, Chicken Schitt.   Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt were inseparable throughout their childhood, and married the Happens brothers in joyous ceremony. The Schitt-Happens children are Dawg Schitt, Byrdd Schitt and Horace Schitt.

Bull Schitt the prodigal son, left home to tour the world. He recently returned to the farm with his new Italian Bride, Peesa Schitt on his arm. The young couple are awaiting the imminent arrival of Baby Schitt.

Now when someone tells you that you don't know Jack Schitt, you can correct them!!

A chicken and an egg were laying next to each other in bed. The chicken was smoking a cigarette, while the egg, with a very pissed-off look says, Well... I guess that answers THAT long-debated question!"

The doorbell rings.  Guy goes to answer it.  He sees a snail on the doorstep.  He picks up the snail and flings it as far away as he can.

Two years pass.  The doorbell rings again.  Guy comes to the door.  It's the snail again.  The snail says, "What was that about?"

An old man is walking through a mall, distraught that his marriage has lost its zip.  He stops at a lingerie store and tells the saleswoman, "I want something to put the sparkle back in my marriage."

The saleswoman picks out a sexy negligee, and the old man goes home and gives it to his wife.  As she opens the package she exclaims, "Oh, honey, this is lovely!"  But meanwhile she is thinking to herself:  "What's with this man?  We haven't had sex in years."

That night, the man asks his wife to put on her new negligee.  She goes into the bathroom, and as she puts it on she sees it is far too small. She thinks:  "His eyesight is not too good -- I'll come out naked and he'll never be able to tell. I'll get into bed, he'll put his arm around me and fall asleep as usual."

She walks out naked. Her husband stares at her intently, and finally says, "For what I paid, you'd think they would have pressed it first."

Guy walks into a bar, orders a scotch and soda for himself, a scotch and soda for everyone in the bar, "and while you're at it, barkeep, pour one for yourself." This goes on all night. Finally, the bartender hands the man a sizable bill -- and the man says, "Sorry, I don't happen to have any money." The bartender leaps over the bar and pounds the guy like veal, sending him to the hospital.

One year to the day later, the same guy appears at the same bar, with the same bartender and the same clientele. "I'll have a scotch and soda," he says. "Oh, yeah?" the bartender says.  "And I suppose you want me to set one up for everybody in the bar, too?"

"Now that you mention it, sure."

"And I suppose you want me to fix one for myself too?"

"Not you.  You're a nasty drunk."

Guy goes into a bar in Dublin and orders three pints. "I'll gladly bring you one at a time if you'd like," the bartender says.

"No," the man says. "I want three at the same time.  You see, one of my brothers is in America and one is in Australia, and they can't be here with me.  I miss them very much, and I feel if I do it this way, I'm drinking with my brothers."

This goes on every day for three years, until one day the man comes in and orders just two pints. The bartender delivers the pints to the man's table, and says softly, "I'm sorry for your loss."

The man looks up and says, "Oh, no, my brothers are fine.  But I've quit drinking."

(C) Copyright 1998 The Washington Post Company

Two Arabs boarded a shuttle out of Washington for New York.  One sat in the window seat, the other in the middle seat.  Just before takeoff a fat, little Israeli guy got on and took the aisle seat next to the Arabs.  He kicked off his shoes, wiggled his toes and was settling in when the Arab in the window seat said, "I think I'll go up and get a coke."

"No problem," said the Israeli.  "I'll get it for you."  While he was gone, the Arab picked up the Israeli's shoe and spit in it.  When the Israeli returned with the coke, the other Arab said, "That looks good.  I think I'll have one too."

Again, the Israeli obligingly went to fetch it, and while he is gone the Arab other picked up the other shoe and spit in it.  The Israeli returned with the coke, and they all sat back and enjoyed the short flight to New York.

As the plane was landing the Israeli slipped his feet into his shoes and knew immediately what had happened. "How long must this go on?" he asked.  "This enmity between our peoples..... this hatred... this animosity... this spitting in shoes and peeing in cokes?"

There are so many Star Trek spin-offs that it is easy to fool yourself into thinking that the Star Trek vision is an accurate vision of the future. Sadly, Star Trek does not take into account the stupidity, selfishness, and horniness of the average human being.  Allow me to describe some of the more obvious errors in the Star Trek vision.

Medical Technology:

On Star Trek, the doctors have handheld devices that instantly close any openings in the skin. Imagine that sort of device in the hands of your unscrupulous friends. They would sneak up behind you and seal your ass shut as a practical joke. The devices would be sold in novelty stores instead of medical outlets. All things considered, I am happy that it is not easy to close other people's orifices.

Transporter:

It would be great to be able to beam your molecules across space and then reassemble them. The only problem is that you have to trust your co-worker to operate the transporter. These are the same people who will not add paper to the photocopier or make a new pot of coffee after taking the last drop. I do not think they will be double-checking the transporter coordinates. They will be accidentally beaming people into walls, pets, and furniture. People will spend all their time apologizing for having inanimate objects protruding from parts of their bodies.

'Pay no attention to the knickknacks; I got beamed into a hutch yesterday.'

If I could beam things from one place to another, I would never leave the house. I would sit in a big comfy chair and just start beaming groceries, stereo equipment, cheerleaders, and anything else I wanted right into my house. I am fairly certain I would abuse this power. If anybody came to arrest me, I could beam them into space. If I wanted some paintings for my walls, I could beam the contents of the Louvre over to my place, pick out the good stuff, and beam the rest into my neighbor's garage.

If I were watching the news on television and did not like what I heard, I would beam the anchorman into my living room during the commercial break, give him a vicious wedgie, and beam him back before anybody noticed. I would never worry about 'keeping up with the Joneses,' because as soon as they got something nice, it would disappear right out of their hands. My neighbors would have to use milk crates for furniture. And that is only after I had all the milk crates I would ever need for the rest of my life.  There is only one thing that could keep me from spending all my time wreaking havoc with the transporter: the holodeck.

Holodeck:

For those of you who only watched the 'old' Star Trek, the holodeck can create simulated worlds that look and feel just like the real thing. The characters on Star Trek use the holodeck for recreation during breaks from work. This is somewhat unrealistic. If I had a holodeck, I would close the door and never come out until I died of exhaustion. It would be hard to convince me I should be anywhere but in the holodeck, getting my oil massage from Cindy Crawford and her simulated twin sister.

Holodecks would be very addicting. If there were not enough holodecks to go around, I would get the names of all the people who had reservations ahead of me and beam them into concrete walls. I might feel tense about it, but that is exactly why I would need a massage.

I am afraid the holodeck will be society's last invention.

Sex with Aliens:

According to Star Trek, there are many alien races populated with creatures who would like to have sex with humans.  This would open up a lot of anatomical possibilities, but imagine the confusion. It is hard enough to have sex with human beings, much less humanoids. One wrong move and suddenly you are transported naked to the Gamma Quadrant to stand trial for who-knows-what. This could only add to performance anxiety. You would never be quite sure what moves would be sensual and what moves would be a galactic-sized mistake.

Me Trying to Have Sex with an Alien

Me:          May I touch that?

Alien:      That is not an erogenous zone. It is a separate corporeal being that has been attached to my body for six hundred years.

Me:     It's cute. I wonder if it would let me have sex with it.

Alien:      That's exactly what I said six hundred years ago.

The best part about having sex with aliens, according to the Star Trek model, is that the alien always dies a tragic death soon afterward. I do not have to tell you how many problems that would solve. Realistically, the future will not be that convenient.

Phasers:

I would love to have a device that would stun people into unconsciousness without killing them. I would use it ten times a day. If I got bad service at the convenience store, I could zap the clerk. If somebody with big hair sat in front of me at the theater, zap!

On Star Trek, there are no penalties for stunning people with phasers. It happens all the time. All you have to do is claim you were possessed by an alien entity. Apparently, that is viewed as a credible defense in the Star Trek future. Imagine real criminals in a world where the 'alien possession' defence is credible.

Criminal:    Yes, officer, I did steal that vehicle, and I did kill the occupants, but I was possessed by an evil alien entity.

Officer:     Well, okay. Move along.

I wish I had a phaser right now. My neighbor's dog likes to stand under my bedroom window on the other side of the fence and bark for hours at a time. My neighbor has employed the bold defense that he believes it might be another neighbor's dog, despite the fact that I am standing there looking at him barking only twenty feet away. In a situation like this, a phaser is really the best approach. I could squeeze off a clean shot through the willow tree. A phaser does not make much noise, so it wouldn't disturb anyone. Then the unhappy little dog and I could both get some sleep. If the neighbor complains, I can explain that the phaser was fired by the other neighbor's dog, a known troublemaker who is said to be invisible.

And if that does not work, a photon torpedo is clearly indicated.

Cyborgs:

Given the choice, I would rather be a cyborg instead of 100 percent human. I like the thought of technology becoming part of my body. As a human, I am constantly running to the toolbox in my garage to get a tool to deal with some new household malfunction. If I were a cyborg, I might have an electric drill on my arm, plus a metric socket set. That would save a lot of trips. From what I have seen, the cyborg concept is a modular design, so you can add whatever tools you think you would use most.

I would love to see crosshairs appear in my viewfinder every time I looked at someone. It would make me feel menacing, and I would like that. I could program myself so that anytime I saw a car salesman, a little message would appear in my viewfinder that said 'Target Locked On.'

It would also be great to have my computer built into my skull. That way I could surf the Net during useless periods of life, such as when people talk to me. All I would have to do is initiate a head-nodding subroutine during boring conversations and I could amuse myself in my head all day long.

I think that if anyone could become a cyborg, there would be a huge rush of people getting in line for the conversion. Kids would like it for the look. Adults would like it for its utility. Cyborg technology has something for everyone. So, unlike Star Trek, I can imagine everyone wanting to be a cyborg.

The only downside I can see is that when the human part dies and you are at the funeral, the cyborg part will try to claw its way out of the casket and slay all the mourners. But that risk can be minimized by saying you have an important business meeting, so you can't make it to the service.

Shields:

I wish I had an invisible force field. I would use it all the time, especially around people who spit when they talk or get too close to my personal space. In fact, I would probably need a shield quite a bit if I also had a phaser to play with.

I would not need a big shield system like the one they use to protect the Enterprise, maybe just a belt-clip device for personal use. I could insult dangerous people without fear of retribution. Whatever crumbs of personality I now have would be completely unnecessary in the future.  On the plus side, it would make shopping much more fun.

Shopping with Shields Up

Me:          Ring this up for me, you unpleasant cretin.

Saleswoman: I oughta slug you!

Me:          Try it. My shields are up.

Saleswoman: Damn!

Me:          There's nothing you can do to harm me.

Saleswoman:  I guess you're right. Would you like to open a charge account? Our interest rates are very reasonable.

Me:          Nice try.

Long-Range Sensors:

If people had long-range sensors, they would rarely use them to scan for new signs of life. I think they would use them to avoid work. You could run a continuous scan for your boss and then quickly transport yourself out of the area when he came near. If your manager died in his office, you would know minutes before the authorities discovered him, and that means extra break time.

Vulcan Death Grip:

Before all you Trekkies write to correct me, I know there is no such thing as a Vulcan Death Grip even in Star Trek. But I wish there were.  That would have come in handy many times. It would be easy to make the Vulcan Death Grip look like an accident. 'I was just straightening his collar and he collapsed.'

I think the only thing that keeps most people from randomly killing other citizens is the bloody mess it makes and the high likelihood of getting caught. With the Vulcan Death Grip, it would be clean and virtually undetectable. Everybody would be killing people left and right. You wouldn't be able to have a decent conversation at the office over the sound of dead co-workers hitting the carpet. The most common sounds in corporate America would be, 'I'm sorry I couldn't give you a bigger raise, but . . . erk!'

And that is why the future will not be like Star Trek.