KAREL'S CHEESE HOUSE

12 newborns will be given to the wrong parents daily

114,500 mismatched pairs of shoes will be shipped/year

18,322 pieces of mail will be mishandled/hour

2,000,000 documents will be lost by the IRS this year

2.5 million books will be shipped with the wrong covers

Two planes landed at Chicago's O'Hare airport will be unsafe every day

315 entries in Webster's Dictionary will be misspelled

20,000 incorrect drug prescriptions will be written this year

880,000 credit cards in circulation will turn out to have incorrect cardholder information on their magnetic strips

103,260 income tax returns will be processed incorrectly during the year

5.5 million cases of soft drinks produced will be flat

291 pacemaker operations will be performed incorrectly

3056 copies of tomorrow's Wall Street Journal will be missing one of the three sections

A typical day would be 24 hours long (give or take 86.4 seconds)

A man walks into a bar with a duck and a biscuit box. He sets the duck on top of the biscuit box on the bar and the duck begins dancing. The barman finds this rather interesting as do the rest of the punters in the pub. They all come round the duck and watch it for ages, and while doing so, buy more and more drink. By the end of the night the bar is full of people watching this amazing duck, still dancing and giving the odd quack now and again. The barman realizes that he hasn't had business this good in a long time. It is so good that he offers to buy the duck from the man to which the man agrees to sell for 500 pounds. The barman thinks it is a bit expensive but agrees to buy it anyhow. On selling the duck, the man goes home leaving a crowded pub watching his dancing duck. Later that night, the man gets a telephone call; it is the barman and he exclaims that the duck is a great success and that he has his money back in the amount of drink he has sold, but he says - "There is one thing... How do you get the duck to stop dancing?" to which the man replies - "Oh simple - just take the lid of the biscuit box and blow out the candle."

VVVVVVVVV

Ok now kids do not try this at home, go to a friends house.

VVVVVVVVV

A preacher is buying a parrot. "Are you sure it doesn't swear?" asked the preacher. "Oh absolutely. It's a religious parrot," the storekeeper assures him. "Do you see those strings on his legs? When you pull the right one, he recites the Lord's Prayer, and when you pull on the left he recites the 23rd Psalm." "Wonderful!" says the preacher, "but what happens if you pull both strings?" "I fall off my fuckin' perch, you goddammed shit-for-brains!" screeched the parrot.

Prior to take off, passengers on a major airline were surprised to hear a woman's voice on the pilot's intercom. She said, "Although I am a woman, I also am a fully qualified pilot and will be your Captain on this flight. I've had extensive training on all types of aircraft and can fly them as well, or better, than any man. If you wish to see a demonstration of my flying skills; once we have reached our scheduled flying altitude and the seat-belt sign has been turned off, feel free to unbuckle your seat-belt, stroll down the aisle and join me in the cuntpit."

"You spent my $150 million on WHAT?!? I said SNAPPLE!!!"

Yes, some of these I can say are real, I copied them myself from LA & San Francisco paper. Your guess is as good as mine if these were jokes on some one or not. Morgan

* Bitter, unsuccessful middle aged loser wallowing in an unending sea of inert, drooping loneliness looking for 24 year old needy leech-like hanger-on to abuse with dull stories, tired sex and Herb Alpert albums. Baby, you are my Tijuana Taxi.

* Me -- trying to sleep on the bus station bench, pleading with you to give me a cigarette; you -- choking on my odor, tripping over your purse trying to get away; at the last moment, our eyes meeting. Yours were blue. Can I have a dollar?

* Imp and angel. Disembodied head in jar, 24, seeks pixie goddess to fiddle with while Rome burns. You bring marshmallows. No. I make joke. You like laugh? I like comebacks and confessions. Send photo of someone else.

* Three toed mango peeler searching for wicked lesbian infielder. Like screaming and marking territory with urine? Let's make banana enchiladas together in my bathtub. You bring the salsa.

* I like eating mayonnaise and peanut butter sandwiches in the rain, watching Barney Miller reruns, peeing on birds in the park and licking strangers on the subway; you eat beets raw, have climbed Kilimanjaro, and sweat freely and often. Must wear size five shoes.

* There is a little place in the jumbled sock drawer of my heart where you match up all the pairs, throw out the ones with holes in them, and buy me some of those neat dressy ones with the weird black and red geometrical designs on them.

* Mmmm Pez! Rabid Wonder Woman fan looking for someone in satin tights, fighting for our rights and the old red, white 'n blue. You look like Linda Carter? Big plus. Know all words to theme song? Marry me.

* Remember that summer you spent with your parents in Hawaii and how mad you were that they made you go? And how you were hopelessly bored until you saw the most gorgeous man you'd ever encountered strolling down the beach looking at you, skillfully removing your skimpy bikini with his piercing eyes? And how you spent the last month imagining him taking you in every possible way, masturbating feverishly day and night, wishing he would reappear, but he never did because you were 15 and he would have gone to jail? That was me, and you just turned 18.

* Angry, simple-minded, balding, partially blind ex-circus flipper boy with a passion for covering lovers in sour cream and gravy seeks exotic, heavily tattooed piercing fanatic, preferably hairy and stinky, either sex, for whippings, bizarre sex and fashion consulting. No freaks.

Our program who art in memmory, Hello be thy name. Thy operating system come, the commands be done, at the printer as it is on the screen.

Give us this day our daily data, and forgive us our I/O errors as we forgive those whose logic circuts are faulty.

Lead us not in to frustration, and deliverus from power surges. For Thine is the algorithm, the application, and the solution, looping for ever and ever.

I pledge allegiance to the DOS
And the monopolistic juggernaut of Microsoft
And to the mediocrity for which it stands
One operating system,
Under Bill,
Uninspiring,
With innovation and simplicity for none.

'Twas evening, when Christmas had enveloped the house
And the whole household was fighting for control of the mouse;
The phone receiver was being attended with care
In hopes that tech support would soon be there;
The children still hadn't been sent off to bed
Because they knew what to do when the PC was dead;
Mamma wept in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
As we'd laid out two grand for a large pile of crap
Then a loud noise outside parted me and computer,
So I sprang from the study to shoot the intruder.
Away to the front hall went me and my son,
He to the window and I to my gun;
The rays from the monitor on the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of radioactivity to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a big flashy red sports car, and a six-pack of beer
With a little geek driver, so alert yet so still,
I knew in a moment it could only be Bill.
More rapid than slugs his software it came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Windows! Now, Office! Now, Excel and Encarta!
On, Front Page! On Explorer! On, VB and BASIC!
To the bay of the drive! To the PC's hard disk!
Now slow it down! Slow it down! Slow it down quick!"
Like a geek who oft on the Internet surfs,
He crashed in the garden and threw up some turf;
Up to the house-top the sports car it flew,
With seats full of software, and William too.
And then, in a twinkling, I pricked my ears higher
To hear the screeching and scratching of each little tyre.
As I drew out my gun, and was turning around,
Down the chimney William came with a bound.
His clothes were from Wal-Mart, from his head to his toe,
And as he stood he was swaying, from to to fro.
A bundle of software he had flung on his back,
And from my end of the room you could see it was cack.
His glasses - how dirty! His expression - how scary!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
Then my whole family were picked up and kissed,
And it was then that I knew he was incredibly pissed.
The stump of a finger he held in his teeth,
And the blood it encircled his head like a wreath;
You could tell from now onwards that he'd utter no sobs,
For you clearly could see he had murdered Steve Jobs.
He was gawky and thin, a psychotic old nerd,
But still I told him that his software was turd,
A click of a lever and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I would soon be dead;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And killed all my children; man, he was a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his mouse,
He flew up the chimney, like a magical louse;
He sprang to his car, and gave a shrill whistle,
And off went the sports car like a cruise missile.
I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"Don't dis my software if you don't wanna fight."

Below are excerpts about how guys can score points (or lose them) from their gals from "The Game of Romance: How to Keep Score" from Men's Health Magazine, November, 1996, p 110-115, along with some things that are just expected of guys, therefore having a score of zero:

Simple Duties
--You go out to buy her flowers: +10
--But return with beer: -5
--You check out a suspicious noise at night: 0
--You check out a suspicious noise and it's nothing: 0
--You check out a suspicious noise and it's something: +5
--You pummel it with a six iron: +10
--It's her father: -10

Social Engagements
--You stay by her side the entire party: 0
--You stay by her side for a while, then leave to chat with a college drinking buddy: -2
--Named Tiffany: -4
--Tiffany is a dancer: -6
--Tiffany has implants: -8

Saturday Afternoons
--You visit her parents: +1
--You visit her parents and actually make conversation: +3
--You visit her parents and stare at the television: -3
--And the television is off: -6
--You spend the afternoon watching college football in your underwear: -6
--And you didn't even go to college: -10
--And it's not really your underwear: -15

Her Birthday
--You take her out to dinner: 0
--You take her out to dinner and it's not a sports bar: +1
--Okay, it is a sports bar: -2
--And it's all-you-can-eat night: -3
--It's a sports bar, it's all-you-can-eat night, and your face is painted the colors of your favorite team: -10
--You give her a gift: 0
--You give her a gift, and it's a small appliance: -10
--You give her a gift, and it's not a small appliance: +1
--You give her a gift, and it isn't chocolate: +2
--You give her a gift that you'll be paying off for months: +30
--You wait til the last minute and buy her a gift that day: -10
--With her credit card: -30
--And whatever you bought is two sizes too big: -40

Thoughtfulness
--You forget to pick her up at the bus station: -25
--Which is in Newark, New Jersey: -35
--And the pouring rain dissolves her leg cast: -50

A Night Out with Your Pals
--You have a few beers: -9
--For every beer after three, -2 again
--And miss curfew by an hour: -12
--You get home at 3 a.m.: -20
--You get home at 3 a.m. smelling of booze and cheap cigars: -30
--And not wearing any pants: -40
--Is that a tattoo? -200

A Night Out, Just The Two of You
--You go see a comic: +2
--He's crude and sexist: -2
--You laugh: -5
--You laugh too much: -10
--She's not laughing: -15
--You laugh harder: -25

Driving
--You lose the directions on a trip: -4
--You lose the directions and end up getting lost: -10
--You end up getting lost in a bad part of town: -15
--You get lost in a bad part of town & meet the locals up close & personal: -25
--She finds out you lied about having a black belt: -60

Communication
--When she wants to talk about a problem, you listen, displaying what looks like a concerned expression: 0
--When she wants to talk, you listen, for over 30 minutes: +5
--You listen for more than 30 minutes, without looking at the television or picking up a newspaper: +10
--She realizes this is because you've fallen asleep: -10

No moving parts, no batteries.
No monthly payments and no fees.
Inflation proof, non-taxable,
in fact it's quite reliable.
It can't be stolen, won't pollute,
one size fits all, do not dilute.
It uses little energy,
but yields results enormously.
Relieves your tension and your stress,
invigorates your happiness.
Combats depression, makes you beam
and elevates your self esteem.
Your circulation it corrects
without complicated side effects.
It is, I think, the perfect drug.
May I prescribe, my friend. . . . . . the hug!