Monday, October 30, 2006
After several drinks, one of the men had to use the rest room.
Those who remained talked about their kids.
The first guy said, "My son is my pride and joy. He started working at a successful company at the bottom of the barrel. He studied Economics and Business Administration and soon began to climb the corporate ladder and now he's the president of the company. He became so rich that he gave his best friend a top of the line Mercedes for his birthday."
The second guy said, "Darn, that's terrific! My son is also my pride and joy. He started working for a big airline, then went to flight school to become a pilot. Eventually he became a partner in the company, where he owns the majority of its assets He's so rich that he gave his best friend a brand new jet for his birthday."
The third man said: "Well, that's terrific! My son studied in the best universities and became an engineer. Then he started his own construction company and is now a multimillionaire. He also gave away something very nice and expensive to his best friend for his birthday: A 30,000 square foot mansion."
The three friends congratulated each other just as the fourth returned from the restroom and asked: "What are all the congratulations for?"
One of the three said: "We were talking about the pride we feel for the successes of our sons. ...What about your son?"
The fourth man replied: "My son is gay and makes a living dancing as a stripper at a nightclub."
The three friends said: "What a shame... what a disappointment."
The fourth man replied: "No, I'm not ashamed. He's my son and I love him. And he hasn't done too bad either. His birthday was two weeks ago, and he received a beautiful 30,000 square foot mansion, a brand new jet and a top of the line Mercedes from his three boyfriends."
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
A butcher watching over his shop is really surprised when he sees a dog coming inside the shop. He shoos him away. But later, the dog is back again. So, he goes over to the dog and notices it has a note in its mouth. He takes the note and it reads “Can I have 12 sausages and a leg of lamb, please”. The dog has money in its mouth, as well. The butcher looks inside and, lo and behold, there is a ten dollar note there. So he takes the money and puts the sausages and lamb in a bag, placing it in the dog’s mouth.
The butcher is so impressed, and since it’s about closing time, he decides to shut the shop and follow the dog. So off he goes. The dog is walking down the street, when it comes to a level crossing; the dog puts down the bag, jumps up and presses the button. Then it waits patiently, bag in mouth, for the lights to turn.They do, and it walks across the road, with he butcher following him all the way. The dog then comes to a bus stop, and starts looking at the timetable. The butcher is in awe as the dog stops a bus by pulling its left leg up and gets in it.
Then, without waiting for the bus to stop completely, it jumps out of the bus and runs to a house very close to the stop. It opens the big Iron Gate and rushes inside towards the door.
As it approaches the wooden door, the dog suddenly changes its mind and heads towards the garden. It goes to the window, and beats its head against it several times, walks back, jumps off, and waits at the door. The butcher watches as a big guy opens the door, and starts shouting and swearing at the dog.
The butcher surprised with this, runs up, and stops the guy. “What in heaven’s name are you doing? The dog is a genius. He could be on TV, for the life of me!”, to which the guy responds: “You call this clever? This is the second time this week that this stupid dog’s forgotten his key.”
Ahead of him is a guy who’s dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket and jeans.
Saint Peter addresses him, “Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you into the Kingdom of Heaven?”
The guy replies, “I’m Joe Cohen, taxi driver, from New York.”
Saint Peter consults his list. He smiles and says to the taxi driver, “Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”
Now it’s the priest’s turn. He stands erect and booms out, “I am the Right Reverend Joseph Snow, pastor of Saint Mary’s for the last forty-three years.”
Saint Peter consults his list. He says to the priest, “Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”
“Just a minute,” says the priest. “That man was a taxi driver. Why does he get a silken robe and golden staff?”
“Results,” shrugged Saint Peter. “While you preached, people slept. When he drove, people prayed.”
Moral of the story:
It’s Performance, Not Position that Counts
1 star hangover
No pain. no real feeling of illness. You slept in your own bed and when you woke up there were no traffic cones in there with you. You are still able to function relatively well on the energy stored up from all those vodka and Red Bulls. However, you can drink 10 bottles of water and still feel as parched as the Sahara. Even vegetarians are craving a Cheeseburger and a bag of fries.
2 star hangover
No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you have the attention span and mental capacity of a stapler. The coffee you hug to try and remain focused is only exacerbating your rumbling gut, which is craving a full English breakfast. Although you have a nice demeanour about the office, you are costing your employer valuable money because all you really can handle is some light filing, followed by aimlessly surfing the net and writing junk e-mails.
3 star hangover
Slight headache. Stomach feels crap. You are definitely a space cadet and not so productive. Anytime a girl or lad walks by you gag because the perfume/aftershave reminds you of the random gin shots you did with your alcoholic friends after the bouncer kicked you out at 1:45 am. Life would be better right now if you were in your bed with a kebab and a litre of coke watching daytime TV. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 6 chicken nuggets and a litre of diet coke yet you haven't peed once.
4 star hangover
You have lost the will to live. Your head is throbbing and you can't speak too quickly or else you might spew. Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but you smell of socks, and you can't hide the fact that you (depending on your gender) either missed an oh-so crucial spot shaving, or, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the dodgems. Your teeth have their own individual sweaters. Your eyes look like one big vein and your hairstyle makes you look like a reject from a second-grade class circa 1976. You would give a weeks pay for one of the following - home time, a cheeseburger and somewhere to be alone, or a Time Machine so you could go back and NOT have gone out the night before. You scare small children in the street just by walking past them.
5 star hangover
You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying the employee who sits next to you. Vodka vapour is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth. Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is suffocating you. You'd cry but that would take the last drop of moisture left in your body. Death seems pretty good right now. Your boss doesn't even get mad at you and your co-workers think that your dog just died because you look so pathetic. You should have called in sick because, let's face it, all you can manage to do is breathe ..... very gently.
6 star hangover
You arrive home and climb into bed. Sleep comes instantly, as you were fighting it all the way home in the taxi. You get about 2 hours sleep until the noises inside your head wake you up. You notice that your bed has been cleared for take off and is flying relentlessly around the room. No matter what you do you now, you're going to chuck. You stumble out of bed and now find that your room is in a yacht under full sail. After walking along the skirting boards on alternating walls knocking off all the pictures, you find the toilet. If you are lucky you will remember to lift the lid before you spontaneously explode and wake the whole house up with your impersonation of walrus mating calls. You sit there on the floor in your undies, cuddling the only friend in the world you have left (the toilet), randomly continuing to make the walrus noises, spitting, and farting. Help usually comes at this stage, even if it is short lived. Tears stream down your face and your abdomen hurts. Help now turns into abuse and he/she usually goes back to bed leaving you there in the dark. With your stomach totally empty, your spontaneous eruptions have died back to 15-minute intervals, but your body won't relent. You are convinced that you are starting to turn yourself inside out and swear that you saw your tonsils shoot out of your mouth on the last occasion. It is now dawn and you pass your disgusted partner getting up for the day as you try to climb into bed. She/he abuses you again for trying to get into bed with lumpy bits of dried vomit in your hair. You reluctantly accept their advice and have a shower in exchange for them driving you to the hospital. Work is simply not an option. The whole day is spent trying to avoid anything that might make you sick again, like moving. You vow never to touch a drop again and who knows for the next two or three hours at least you might even succeed. OK, now hands up all those who have never had a six star hangover!! Thought so!!
- ▼ October (13)