A new priest at his first mass was so nervous he could hardly speak. After mass he asked the monsignor how he had done. The monsignor replied, " When I am worried about getting nervous on the pulpit, I put a glass of vodka next to the water glass. If I start to get nervous, I take a sip."
So next Sunday he took the monsignor's advice. At the beginning of the sermon, he got nervous and took a drink. He proceeded to talk up a storm.
Upon his return to his office after the mass, he found the following note on the door:
1) Sip the vodka, don't gulp.
2) There are 10 commandments, not 12.
3) There are 12 disciples, not 10.
4) Jesus was consecrated, not constipated.
5) Jacob wagered his donkey, he did not bet his ass.
6) We do not refer to Jesus Christ as the late J.C.
7) The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are not referred to as Daddy, Junior and the spook.
8)David slew Goliath, he did not kick the s--t out of him.
9) When David was hit by a rock and was knocked off his donkey, don't say he was stoned off his ass.
10) We do not refer to the cross as the "Big T."
11) When Jesus broke the bread at the last supper he said, "Take this and eat it for it is my body." He did not say, "Eat me"
12) The Virgin Mary is not called " Mary with the Cherry,.
13) The recommended grace before a meal is not: Rub-A-Dub-Dub thanks for the grub, Yeah God.
14) Next Sunday there will be a taffy-pulling contest at St.Peter's not a peter-pulling contest at St.Taffy's
Monday, October 8, 2007
Examinations special
Ø Special offer........Bring a chit on exam day, scratch and show it to your nearest teacher and win free trip to Principal's office and enjoy 3 years vacation at home.
Hurry offer valid until exams only....
Ø It takes 15 trees to produce the amount of paper that we use to write our exam once (excluding supplementary). Join us in promoting the noble cause of saving trees.
Say NO to EXAMS
Ø Student's declaration at the end of answer paper. Reminds me of Disclaimer Notices!
"I hereby declare that answers written above r true 2d best of mine & my friend's knowledge & I claim no responsibility whatsoever 4any mistakes. Whatever I have written is truly fictitious & any resemblance with the Subject Matter is purely Coincidental."
Hurry offer valid until exams only....
Ø It takes 15 trees to produce the amount of paper that we use to write our exam once (excluding supplementary). Join us in promoting the noble cause of saving trees.
Say NO to EXAMS
Ø Student's declaration at the end of answer paper. Reminds me of Disclaimer Notices!
"I hereby declare that answers written above r true 2d best of mine & my friend's knowledge & I claim no responsibility whatsoever 4any mistakes. Whatever I have written is truly fictitious & any resemblance with the Subject Matter is purely Coincidental."
10 ways to stop those irritating calls
10 ways to stop those credit card sales, idea/hutch/airtel , insurance
calls etc ... (no offences PLz) J
1. After the telemarketer finishes speaking, ask him/her to marry
you.
2. Tell the telemarketer you are busy at the moment, and ask him/her
if he/she will give you his/her home phone number so you can call him/her
back.
3. Ask them to repeat everything they say, several times.
4. Tell them it is dinner time, BUT ask if they would please hold.
Put them on your speaker phone while you continue to eat at your leisure.
Smack your food loudly and continue with your dinner conversation.
5. Tell them that all business goes through your agent, and hand the
phone to your five year old child.
6. Tell them you are hard of hearing and that they need to speak
up...louder...louder...louder!
7. Tell them to speak very slowly because you want to write every
word down.
8. If they start out with, "How are you today?", say "I'm so glad
you asked, because no one these days seems to care, and I have all
these problems............"
9. Cry out in surprise, "Helen, is that you? I've been hoping you'd
call! How is the family?" When they insist they are not Helen, tell them to
stop joking. This works especially well if the telemarketer is really
MALE.
10. Tell the HSBC call center guy to call on your office number.
- and give him the ICICI call center number.
calls etc ... (no offences PLz) J
1. After the telemarketer finishes speaking, ask him/her to marry
you.
2. Tell the telemarketer you are busy at the moment, and ask him/her
if he/she will give you his/her home phone number so you can call him/her
back.
3. Ask them to repeat everything they say, several times.
4. Tell them it is dinner time, BUT ask if they would please hold.
Put them on your speaker phone while you continue to eat at your leisure.
Smack your food loudly and continue with your dinner conversation.
5. Tell them that all business goes through your agent, and hand the
phone to your five year old child.
6. Tell them you are hard of hearing and that they need to speak
up...louder...louder...louder!
7. Tell them to speak very slowly because you want to write every
word down.
8. If they start out with, "How are you today?", say "I'm so glad
you asked, because no one these days seems to care, and I have all
these problems............"
9. Cry out in surprise, "Helen, is that you? I've been hoping you'd
call! How is the family?" When they insist they are not Helen, tell them to
stop joking. This works especially well if the telemarketer is really
MALE.
10. Tell the HSBC call center guy to call on your office number.
- and give him the ICICI call center number.
What a Logic...
There were two nuns...
One of them was known as Sister Mathematical (SM),
and the other one was known as Sister Logical (SL).
It is getting dark and they are still far away from the convent.
SM: Have you noticed that a man has been following us for
the past thirty-eight and a half minutes? I wonder what he wants.
SL: It's logical. He wants to rape us.
SM: Oh, no! At this rate he will reach us in 15 minutes
at the most! What can we do?
SL: The only logical thing to do of course is to walk faster.
SM: It's not working.
SL: Of course it's not working. The man did the only
logical thing. He started to walk faster, too.
SM: So, what shall we do? At this rate he will reach us in one minute.
SL: The only logical thing we can do is split. You go that way and
I'll go this way. He cannot follow us both.
So the man decided to follow Sister Logical.
Sister Mathematical arrives at the convent and is
worried about what has happened to Sister Logical.
Then Sister Logical arrives.
SM: Sister Logical! Thank God you are here!
Tell me what happened!
SL: The only logical thing happened.
The man couldn't follow us both, so he followed me
SM: Yes, yes! But what happened then?
SL: The only logical thing happened. I started to run
as fast as I could and he started to run as fast as he could.
SM: And?
SL: The only logical thing happened. He reached me.
SM: Oh, dear! What did you do?
SL: The only logical thing to do.
I lifted my dress up.
SM: Oh, Sister! What did the man do?
SL: The only logical thing to do.
He pulled down his pants.
SM: Oh, no! What happened then?
SL: Isn't it logical, Sister?
A nun with her dress up can run faster than man
with his pants down.
One of them was known as Sister Mathematical (SM),
and the other one was known as Sister Logical (SL).
It is getting dark and they are still far away from the convent.
SM: Have you noticed that a man has been following us for
the past thirty-eight and a half minutes? I wonder what he wants.
SL: It's logical. He wants to rape us.
SM: Oh, no! At this rate he will reach us in 15 minutes
at the most! What can we do?
SL: The only logical thing to do of course is to walk faster.
SM: It's not working.
SL: Of course it's not working. The man did the only
logical thing. He started to walk faster, too.
SM: So, what shall we do? At this rate he will reach us in one minute.
SL: The only logical thing we can do is split. You go that way and
I'll go this way. He cannot follow us both.
So the man decided to follow Sister Logical.
Sister Mathematical arrives at the convent and is
worried about what has happened to Sister Logical.
Then Sister Logical arrives.
SM: Sister Logical! Thank God you are here!
Tell me what happened!
SL: The only logical thing happened.
The man couldn't follow us both, so he followed me
SM: Yes, yes! But what happened then?
SL: The only logical thing happened. I started to run
as fast as I could and he started to run as fast as he could.
SM: And?
SL: The only logical thing happened. He reached me.
SM: Oh, dear! What did you do?
SL: The only logical thing to do.
I lifted my dress up.
SM: Oh, Sister! What did the man do?
SL: The only logical thing to do.
He pulled down his pants.
SM: Oh, no! What happened then?
SL: Isn't it logical, Sister?
A nun with her dress up can run faster than man
with his pants down.
Real letters to a London Counsel of housing Development
2. "I wish to complain that my father hurt his ankle very badly when he put his foot in the hole in his back passage."
3. "Will you please send a man to look at my water, it is a funny colour and not fit to drink."
6. "Please send a man with clean tools to finish the job and satisfy the wife."
8. "Their 18 year old son is continuously banging his balls against my fence."
9. "We are getting married in September and would like it in the garden before we move into the house."
10. "This is to let you know that our lavatory seat is broken and we can't get BBC2."
Instinctive Thinking
John works in a supermarket. A man came in and asked John for half a kilogram of butter. The boy told him they only sold 1 kg packets of butter, but the man was persistent. The boy said he'd go ask his manager what to do.
John walked into the back room and said, "There's a bloody fellow out there who wants to buy only half a kilo of butter." As he finished saying this he turned around to find the man standing right behind him, so he added, "And this gentleman wants to buy the other half."
The manager finished the deal and later said to John, "You almost got yourself in a lot of trouble earlier, but I must say I was impressed with the way you got yourself out of it. You think on your feet, and I like it a lot.
Which place are you from?"
John replied, "I'm from Mexico, sir."
"Oh really? Why did you leave Mexico?" asked the manager.
John replied, "They're all just prostitutes and soccer players up there."
"My wife is from Mexico," the manager said.
John replied, "Which team did she play for?"
John walked into the back room and said, "There's a bloody fellow out there who wants to buy only half a kilo of butter." As he finished saying this he turned around to find the man standing right behind him, so he added, "And this gentleman wants to buy the other half."
The manager finished the deal and later said to John, "You almost got yourself in a lot of trouble earlier, but I must say I was impressed with the way you got yourself out of it. You think on your feet, and I like it a lot.
Which place are you from?"
John replied, "I'm from Mexico, sir."
"Oh really? Why did you leave Mexico?" asked the manager.
John replied, "They're all just prostitutes and soccer players up there."
"My wife is from Mexico," the manager said.
John replied, "Which team did she play for?"
Twelve Pound Nugget Of Gold
A Husband and Wife, Both were very happy over the twelve pound baby boy that was born to them. Mr. Brown who could not conceal his delight, called up the editor of a famous newspaper and reported that he became the
proud owner of a twelve pound nugget of gold. The editor upon hearing the seemingly extraordinary news was rather hesitant to accept it at its face value. So he sent his star reporter to interview Mr. Brown. When the
reporter came, Mr. Brown was away and his wife was alone at home. The following interesting conversation took place between the reporter and Mrs. Brown:
Reporter : Does Mr. Brown Live here?
Mrs. Brown : Oh! Yes.
Reporter : Is he in?
Mrs. Brown : Why no, he went somewhere.
Reporter : Is it true that he owns a twelve pound nugget of gold?
Mrs. Brown : (Seeing the joke) Yes, indeed.
Reporter : Can I see the place where he found it?
Mrs. Brown : I am afraid, not because Mr. Brown ! objects in as much as it
is strictly private.
Reporter : Is the place far?
Mrs. Brown : No, it is quite near and convenient.
Reporter : How many years has Mr. Brown been digging the hole?
Mrs. Brown : Just for about ten months.
Reporter : Is the hole deep?
Mrs. Brown : Quite so...
Reporter : Has Mr. Brown reached the bottom of it?
Mrs. Brown : Not yet, but he is coming near...
Reporter : At about what time does Mr. Brown starts digging?
Mrs. Brown : Oh, he does his digging mostly at night.
Reporter : Does he work hard on it?
Mrs. Brown : You bet......... ..and how he perspires.
Reporter : Is Mr. Brown the first to dig?
Mrs. Brown : He thought he was...
Reporter : How do you know there was someone ahead! of him?
Mrs. Brown : I am in a good position to say so, because I own the place.
Reporter : Oh, I see, but you sold the place to Mr. Brown?
Mrs. Brown : No, but for the present, he has the legal title to the
site,with my consent.
Reporter : Has Mr. Brown any helper when he works on the claim?
Mrs. Brown : Yes, I work under him...
Reporter : When do you think Mr. Brown will sell the place?
Mrs. Brown : I think not because he enjoys working on it.
Reporter : Can I see the twelve pound nugget of gold?
Mrs. Brown : Yes, certainly (and she showed him the twelve pound baby
boy).
The reporter has to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance ............
proud owner of a twelve pound nugget of gold. The editor upon hearing the seemingly extraordinary news was rather hesitant to accept it at its face value. So he sent his star reporter to interview Mr. Brown. When the
reporter came, Mr. Brown was away and his wife was alone at home. The following interesting conversation took place between the reporter and Mrs. Brown:
Reporter : Does Mr. Brown Live here?
Mrs. Brown : Oh! Yes.
Reporter : Is he in?
Mrs. Brown : Why no, he went somewhere.
Reporter : Is it true that he owns a twelve pound nugget of gold?
Mrs. Brown : (Seeing the joke) Yes, indeed.
Reporter : Can I see the place where he found it?
Mrs. Brown : I am afraid, not because Mr. Brown ! objects in as much as it
is strictly private.
Reporter : Is the place far?
Mrs. Brown : No, it is quite near and convenient.
Reporter : How many years has Mr. Brown been digging the hole?
Mrs. Brown : Just for about ten months.
Reporter : Is the hole deep?
Mrs. Brown : Quite so...
Reporter : Has Mr. Brown reached the bottom of it?
Mrs. Brown : Not yet, but he is coming near...
Reporter : At about what time does Mr. Brown starts digging?
Mrs. Brown : Oh, he does his digging mostly at night.
Reporter : Does he work hard on it?
Mrs. Brown : You bet......... ..and how he perspires.
Reporter : Is Mr. Brown the first to dig?
Mrs. Brown : He thought he was...
Reporter : How do you know there was someone ahead! of him?
Mrs. Brown : I am in a good position to say so, because I own the place.
Reporter : Oh, I see, but you sold the place to Mr. Brown?
Mrs. Brown : No, but for the present, he has the legal title to the
site,with my consent.
Reporter : Has Mr. Brown any helper when he works on the claim?
Mrs. Brown : Yes, I work under him...
Reporter : When do you think Mr. Brown will sell the place?
Mrs. Brown : I think not because he enjoys working on it.
Reporter : Can I see the twelve pound nugget of gold?
Mrs. Brown : Yes, certainly (and she showed him the twelve pound baby
boy).
The reporter has to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance ............
The Best Resignation Letter
Actual letter of resignation from an employee at Zantex Computers, USA
Dear Mr. Baker,
As a graduate of an institution of higher education, I have a few very basic expectations. Chief among these is that my direct superiors have an intellect that ranges above the common ground squirrel. After your consistent and annoying harassment of my coworkers and me during the commission of our duties, I can only surmise that you are one of the few true genetic wastes of our time.
Asking me, a network administrator, to explain every little nuance of everything I do each time you happen to stroll into my office is not only a waste of time, but also a waste of precious oxygen. I was hired because I know how to network computer systems, and you were apparently hired to provide amusement to myself and other employees, who watch you vainly attempt to understand the concept of "cut and paste" for the hundredth time.
You will never understand computers. Something as incredibly simple as binary still gives you too many options. You will also never understand why people hate you, but I am going to try and explain it to you, even though I am sure this will be just as effective as telling you what an IP is. Your shiny new iMac has more personality than you ever will.
You walk around the building all day, shiftlessly looking for fault in others. You have a sharp dressed useless look about you that may have worked for your interview, but now that you actually have responsibility, you pawn it off on overworked staff, hoping their talent will cover for your glaring ineptitude. In a world of managerial evolution, you are the blue-green algae that everyone else eats and laughs at. Managers like you are a sad proof of the Dilbert principle.
Since this situation is unlikely to change without you getting a full frontal lobotomy reversal, I am forced to tender my resignation, however I have a few parting thoughts.
1. When someone calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal for you to give me a bad recommendation. The most you can say to hurt me is "I prefer not to comment." I will have friends randomly call you over the next couple of years to keep you honest, because I know you would be unable to do it on your own.
2. I have all the passwords to every account on the system, and I know every password you have used for the last five years. If you decide to get cute, I am going to publish your "favorites list", which I conveniently saved when you made me "back up" your useless files. I do believe that terms like "Lolita" are not usually viewed favorably by the
administration.
3. When you borrowed the digital camera to "take pictures of your Mother's birthday," you neglected to mention that you were going to take pictures of yourself in the mirror nude. Then you forgot to erase them like the techno-moron you really are. Suffice it to say I have never seen such odd acts with a sauce bottle, but I assure you that those have
been copied and kept in safe places pending the authoring of a glowing letter of recommendation. (Try to use a spell check please; I hate having to correct your mistakes).
Thank you for your time, and I expect the letter of recommendation on my desk by 8:00 am tomorrow. One word of this to anybody, and all of your little twisted repugnant obsessions will be open to the public. Never f*** with your systems administrator. Why? Because they know what you do with all that free time!
Wishing you a grand and glorious day
Dear Mr. Baker,
As a graduate of an institution of higher education, I have a few very basic expectations. Chief among these is that my direct superiors have an intellect that ranges above the common ground squirrel. After your consistent and annoying harassment of my coworkers and me during the commission of our duties, I can only surmise that you are one of the few true genetic wastes of our time.
Asking me, a network administrator, to explain every little nuance of everything I do each time you happen to stroll into my office is not only a waste of time, but also a waste of precious oxygen. I was hired because I know how to network computer systems, and you were apparently hired to provide amusement to myself and other employees, who watch you vainly attempt to understand the concept of "cut and paste" for the hundredth time.
You will never understand computers. Something as incredibly simple as binary still gives you too many options. You will also never understand why people hate you, but I am going to try and explain it to you, even though I am sure this will be just as effective as telling you what an IP is. Your shiny new iMac has more personality than you ever will.
You walk around the building all day, shiftlessly looking for fault in others. You have a sharp dressed useless look about you that may have worked for your interview, but now that you actually have responsibility, you pawn it off on overworked staff, hoping their talent will cover for your glaring ineptitude. In a world of managerial evolution, you are the blue-green algae that everyone else eats and laughs at. Managers like you are a sad proof of the Dilbert principle.
Since this situation is unlikely to change without you getting a full frontal lobotomy reversal, I am forced to tender my resignation, however I have a few parting thoughts.
1. When someone calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal for you to give me a bad recommendation. The most you can say to hurt me is "I prefer not to comment." I will have friends randomly call you over the next couple of years to keep you honest, because I know you would be unable to do it on your own.
2. I have all the passwords to every account on the system, and I know every password you have used for the last five years. If you decide to get cute, I am going to publish your "favorites list", which I conveniently saved when you made me "back up" your useless files. I do believe that terms like "Lolita" are not usually viewed favorably by the
administration.
3. When you borrowed the digital camera to "take pictures of your Mother's birthday," you neglected to mention that you were going to take pictures of yourself in the mirror nude. Then you forgot to erase them like the techno-moron you really are. Suffice it to say I have never seen such odd acts with a sauce bottle, but I assure you that those have
been copied and kept in safe places pending the authoring of a glowing letter of recommendation. (Try to use a spell check please; I hate having to correct your mistakes).
Thank you for your time, and I expect the letter of recommendation on my desk by 8:00 am tomorrow. One word of this to anybody, and all of your little twisted repugnant obsessions will be open to the public. Never f*** with your systems administrator. Why? Because they know what you do with all that free time!
Wishing you a grand and glorious day
Pretending to be married.....
A man and a woman, who had never met before, found
themselves assigned to the same sleeping room on a transcontinental train.
Though initially embarrassed and uneasy over sharing a room,
the two were tired and fell asleep quickly, he in the upper bunk
and she in the lower.
At 2:00 AM, he leaned over and gently wakes the woman,
saying, "Mam, I'm sorry to bother you, but would you be kind enough
to reach into the closet to get me a second blanket? I'm awfully
cold."
"I have a better idea," she replied. "Just for
tonight, why don't we pretend that we're married?"
"Wow! That's a great idea!!" he is excited.
And she said,
"Then get up and take it yourself"!!
themselves assigned to the same sleeping room on a transcontinental train.
Though initially embarrassed and uneasy over sharing a room,
the two were tired and fell asleep quickly, he in the upper bunk
and she in the lower.
At 2:00 AM, he leaned over and gently wakes the woman,
saying, "Mam, I'm sorry to bother you, but would you be kind enough
to reach into the closet to get me a second blanket? I'm awfully
cold."
"I have a better idea," she replied. "Just for
tonight, why don't we pretend that we're married?"
"Wow! That's a great idea!!" he is excited.
And she said,
"Then get up and take it yourself"!!
Osama's Messege to Bush
After numerous rounds of "We don't even know if Osama is still alive," Osama himself decided to send George Bush a letter in his own handwriting to let him know he was still in the game.
Bush opened the letter and it appeared to contain a single line of coded message:
370H-SSV-0773H
Bush was baffled, so he e-mailed it to Condi Rice. Condi and her aides had no clue either, so they sent it to the FBI.
No one could solve it at the FBI so it went to the CIA, then to the NSA.
With no clue as to its meaning they eventually asked
"Tell the President he's holding the message upside down.”
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