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Fozz
23-02-2006, 09:07 PM
1. WILL THE REAL DUMMY PLEASE STAND UP? AT&T fired President John Walter after nine months, saying he lacked intellectual leadership. He received a $26 million severance package. Perhaps it's not Walter who's lacking intelligence.

2. WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM OUR FRIENDS: Police in Oakland, California spent two hours attempting to subdue a gunman who had barricaded himself inside his home. After firing 10 tear gas canisters, officers discovered that the man was standing beside them in the police line, shouting "Please come out and give yourself up."


3. WHAT WAS PLAN B??? An Illinois man, pretending to have a gun, kidnapped a motorist and forced him to drive to two different automated teller machines, where the kidnapper proceeded to withdraw money from his own bank accounts.


4. THE GETAWAY! A man walked into a Topeka, Kansas, Kwik-Stop, and asked for all the money in the cash drawer. Apparently, the take was too small, so he tied up the store clerk and worked the counter himself for three hours until police showed up and grabbed him.


5. DID I SAY THAT??? Police in Los Angeles had good luck with a robbery suspect who just couldn't control himself during a lineup. When detectives asked each man in the lineup to repeat the words, "Give me all your money or I'll shoot, the man shouted, "That's not what I said!"


6. ARE WE COMMUNICATING?? A man spoke frantically into the phone, "My wife is pregnant and her contractions are only two minutes apart!" "Is this her first child?" the doctor asked. "No!" the man shouted, "This is her husband!"


7. NOT THE SHARPEST TOOL IN THE SHED!! In Modesto, California, Steven Richard King was arrested for trying to hold up a Bank of America branch without a weapon. King used a thumb and a finger to simulate a gun, but unfortunately, he failed to keep his hand in his pocket.


8. THE GRAND FINALE - Last summer, down on Lake Isabella, located in the high desert an hour east of Bakersfield, CA, some folks new to boating were having a problem. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't get their brand new 22-foot going.
It was very sluggish in almost every manoeuver, no matter how much power was applied. After about an hour of trying to make it go, they putted to a nearby marina, thinking someone there could tell them what was wrong.
A thorough topside check revealed everything in perfect working condition. The engine ran fine, the outdrive went up and down, the prop was the correct size and pitch. So, one of the marina guys jumped in the water to check underneath. He came up choking on water, he was laughing so hard.

Under the boat, still strapped securely in place, was the trailer.
:D :eek: :p

Spike
23-02-2006, 09:09 PM
Read them before, but still a damn good laff :D

Fozz
23-02-2006, 09:11 PM
Yeah nothings ever really new online issit.... ;)

RebuiltYorkie
23-02-2006, 09:21 PM
Very funny..I've not seen those before..

kitkatman
23-02-2006, 09:24 PM
:D lol.............. :D

scouselee
23-02-2006, 10:15 PM
rather than start another thread for a story, here we go, borrowed from another forum ~

As all parents in this fair isle of ours know only too well, the half term holiday week has reared its ugly head once more. Like countless other dutiful fathers around the country, I have found myself occasionally taking on the mantle of daytime carer to my sons, the older of whom (aged 5) I gladly allow to join me in my workshop and on visits.

What I find more than a little irksome, though, is the ever emergent routine of daytime catering - a chore I often circumvent by finding an excuse to visit a timber merchant or builders’ supplier in close proximity to a burger van. However, sometimes I just have to roll my sleeves up and cook lunch.

Earlier this week, still smarting from this enforced domesticity, I decided that, in the spirit of Wendell Berry, simple was best and boiled some eggs and made some toast. This, I thought, would be a bit of a treat as my wife tends to err on the side of extravagance when it comes to culinary matters. I buttered the toast and presented it to my son on a plate with cupped eggs and a tea-spoon. I sat down at the head of the table and ate mine in thirty seconds flat. Sipping my tea, I decided to read the newspaper.

After a couple of minutes my son commented that he didn’t really want the egg. Now, the only thing that pisses me off more than having to cook during the day is having to cook during the day and then being told that I needn’t have bothered in the first place.

Exercising considerable restraint, I put my paper down and spoke to him encouragingly, saying, “Come on, eat up lad. You’ll have to eat your food if you’re going to grow up big and strong.” Flexing my biceps playfully, I smiled and gave him a wink before turning back to my newspaper. From behind the paper, I listened to the sounds of him eating, smiling to myself at his little munching noises.

Then, I heard his spoon being placed on his plate and a little impatient sigh. “This isn’t how mum cooks it.”

Closing my eyes and gritting my teeth, I composed myself. With practiced cheer, I said, “Hey come on, it can’t be that bad - it’s only a boiled egg after all.”

“I don’t like it,” he replied.

I looked over the top of my paper at him and said, “Look, I downed my tools to cook you that so you’ll bloody well eat it.”

No sooner had I snapped at the poor boy, than I felt a great pang of guilt course through me. Still, he had to learn - with all the starving children around the world who’d be more than grateful for what he had on his plate, I’d be damned if any son of mine was going to grow up spoilt. I hardened my jaw and resolved to stand my ground.

“But dad.”

“But nothing,” I glared, “you’ll eat it and be thankful.”

Over the top of the paper, I observed him as he ate, head bowed and with tears brimming around the corners of his eyes. He finished his toast but seemed to be making a show of how difficult it was to eat the remainder of the egg - as though every swallow was going to kill him. With only a small amount left in the bottom of the shell, tears were now running down his cheeks.

“Come on lad, you’re nearly done.” I said, with firm encouragement, “Finish it off.”

“All of it?” he sobbed.

“Yes, every last bit,” I demanded, holding his gaze and folding my arms to make a point of watching him.

He looked at me imploringly through tear red eyes and said, “What, even the beak?”

bad toad
23-02-2006, 10:18 PM
yer sick fecker lee!!!! :eek: :rolleyes: