In March 1992 a man living in Newtown near Boston, Massachusetts, received a bill for his as yet unused credit card stating that he owed $0.00. He ignored it and threw it away.
In April he received another and threw that one away too. The following month the credit card company sent him a very nasty note stating they were going to cancel his card if he didn't send them $0.00 by return of post. He called them, talked to them, they said it was a computer error and told him they'd take care of it.
The following month he decided that it was about time that he tried out the troublesome credit card figuring that if there were purchases on his account it would put an end to his ridiculous predicament.
However, in the first store that he produced his credit card in payment for his purchases he found that his card had been canceled. He called the credit card company who apologized for the computer error once again and said that they would take care of it. The next day he got a bill for $0.00 stating that payment was now overdue. Assuming that having spoken to the credit card company only the previous day the latest bill was yet another mistake he ignored it, trusting that the company would be as good as their word and sort the problem out.
The next month he got a bill for $0.00 stating that he had 10 days to pay his account or the company would have to take steps to recover the debt. Finally giving in, he thought he would play the company at their own game and mailed them a check for $0.00. The computer duly processed his account and returned a statement to the effect that he now owed the credit card company nothing at all.
A week later, the man's bank called him asking him what he was doing writing a check for $0.00. After a lengthy explanation the bank replied that the $0.00 check had caused their check processing software to fail. The bank could not now process ANY checks from ANY of their customers that day because the check for $0.00 was causing the computer to crash.
The following month the man received a letter from the credit card company claiming that his check had bounced and that he now owed them $0.00 and unless he sent a check by return of post they would be taking steps to recover the debt. The man, who had been considering buying his wife a computer for her birthday, bought her a typewriter instead.
An Amish woman and her daughter were riding in an old buggy one cold, blustery January day. The daughter said to the mother, "My hands are freezing cold."
The mother replied, "Put your hands between your legs. The body heat will warm them up."
So the daughter did, and her hands warmed up.
The next day, the daughter was riding with her boyfriend, and he said, "My hands are freezing cold."
The daughter replied, "Put them between my legs, they'll warm up."
The next day, the boyfriend was again driving in the buggy with the Daughter. He said, "My nose is freezing cold."
The daughter replied, "Put it between my legs. It will warm up." He did, and his nose warmed up.
The next day, the boyfriend was once again driving with the daughter and he said, "My penis is frozen solid."
The next day, the daughter is driving in the buggy with her mother, and she says to her mother, "Have you ever heard of a penis?"
The slightly concerned mother says, "Sure, why do you ask?"
The daughter says, "Well, they make one hell of a mess when they thaw out!"
This is a true story from the Word Perfect Helpline which was transcribed from a recording monitoring the customer care department. Needless to say the HelpDesk employee was fired; however, he/she is currently suing the Word Perfect organization for "Termination without Cause."
Actual dialogue of a former WordPerfect Customer Support employee (now I know why they record these conversations!)

"Ridge Hall computer assistance; may I help you?"
"Yes, well, I'm having trouble with WordPerfect."
"What sort of trouble?"
"Well, I was just typing along, and all of a sudden the words went away."
"Went away?"
"They disappeared."
"Hmm. So what does your screen look like now?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"It's blank; it won't accept anything when I type."
"Are you still in WordPerfect, or did you get out?"
"How do I tell?"
"Can you see the C: prompt on the screen?"
"What's a sea-prompt?"
"Never mind, can you move your cursor around the screen?"
"There isn't any cursor: I told you, it won't accept anything I type."
"Does your monitor have a power indicator?"
"What's a monitor?
"It's the thing with the screen on it that looks like a TV. Does it have a little light that tells you when it's on?"
"I don't know."
"Well, then look on the back of the monitor and find where the power cord goes into it. Can you see that?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Great. Follow the cord to the plug, and tell me if it's plugged into the wall."
"Yes, it is."
"When you were behind the monitor, did you notice that there were two cables plugged into the back of it, not just one?"
"No."
"Well, there are. I need you to look back there again and find the other cable."
"Okay, here it is."
"Follow it for me, and tell me if it's plugged securely into the back of your computer."
"I can't reach."
"Uh huh. Well, can you see if it is?"
"No."
"Even if you maybe put your knee on something and lean way over?"
"Oh, it's not because I don't have the right angle - it's because it's dark."
"Dark?"
"Yes -the office light is off, and the only light I have is coming in from the window."
"Well, turn on the office light then."
"I can't."
"No? Why not?"
"Because there's a power failure."
"A power... A power failure? Aha, Okay, we've got it licked now. Do you still have the boxes and manuals and packing stuff your computer came in?"
"Well, yes, I keep them in the closet."
"Good. Go get them, and unplug your system and pack it up just like it was when you got it. Then take it back to the store you bought it from."
"Really? Is it that bad?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it is."
"Well, all right then, I suppose. What do I tell them?"
"Tell them you're too fucking stupid to own a computer."

Divers out of Louisiana perform underwater repairs on offshore drilling rigs. Below is an email one diver sent to his sister. Anytime you think you have had a bad day at the office, remember this letter...

Just another note from your bottom dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad day at the office. Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job. As you know my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wet suit. This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of crap sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temp, then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose which is taped to the air hose.

Now this sounds like a good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is I take the hose and stuff it down the back of my neck, this floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi. Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within afew seconds my butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened...

The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. This is even worse than the poison ivy you once had under a cast. Now I had that hose down my back. I don't have any hair on my back, so the jellyfish couldn't get stuck to my back. The crack of my butt was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into my butt. I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the comms. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with 5 other divers, were laughing hysterically.

Needless to say I aborted the dive. I was instructed to make 3 agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling 35 minutes before I could come to the surface for my chamberdry decompression. I got to the surface wearing nothing but my brass helmet. My suit and gear were tied to the bell. When I got on board, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to put it on my butt when I get in the chamber. The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't take a crap for two days because my butt...was swollen shut. I later found out that this could easily have been prevented if the suction hose was placed on the leeward side of the ship.

Anyway, the next time you have a bad day at the office, think of me. Think about how much worse your day would be if you were to shove a jellyfish up your butt.

I hope you have no bad days at the office. But if you do, I hope this will make them more tolerable.

Al Gore and the Clinton's are flying on Air Force One. Bill looks at Al, chuckles and says, "You know, I could throw a $100 bill out the window right now and make one person very happy."
Al shrugs his stiff shoulders and says, "Well, I could throw ten $10.00 bills out the window and make 10 people very happy."
Hillary tosses her perfectly hair-sprayed hair and says, "I could throw one hundred $1.00 bills out the window and make a hundred people very happy."
Chelsea rolls her eyes, looks at all of them and says, "I could throw all three of you out the window and make the whole damn country happy."

A student of proctology is in the morgue one day after classes, getting a little practice in before the final exams. He goes over to a table where a body is lying face down. He uncovers the sheet over the body, and to his surprise he finds a cork in the corpse's rectum. Figuring that this is fairly unusual, he pulls the cork out and to his surprise, music begins playing. "On the road again...Just can't wait to get back on the road again..." The student is amazed, and places the cork back in the backside. The music stops. Totally freaked out, the student calls the Medical Examiner over to the corpse. "Look at this, this is really something," the student tells the examiner as he pulls the cork back out again. "On the road again...just can't wait to get back on the road again..." "So what," the Medical Examiner replies, obviously unimpressed with the student's discovery. "But isn't that the most amazing thing you've ever seen?" asked the student. "Are you kidding?" replied the Examiner, "Any asshole can sing country music."

Only in Australia ... This is based on a story from a local paper.

Recently a routine police patrol parked outside a local pub. Late in the evening the officer noticed a man leaving the bar so intoxicated that he could barely walk. The man stumbled around the car park for a few minutes, with the officer quietly observing. After what seemed an eternity and trying his keys on five vehicles, the man managed to find his car which he fell into. He sat there for a few minutes as a number of other patrons left the bar and drove off. Finally he started the car, switched the wipers on and off (it was a fine dry night) flicked the indicators on, then off, tooted the horn and then switched on the lights. He moved the vehicle forward a few inches, reversed a little and then remained stationery for a few more minutes as some more vehicles left. At last he pulled out of the car park and started to drive slowly down the road.

The police officer, having patiently waited all this time, now started up the patrol car, put on the flashing lights, promptly pulled the man over and carried out a breathalyser test. To his amazement the breathalyser indicated no evidence of the man having consumed alcohol at all! Dumbfounded, the officer said "I'll have to ask you to accompany me to the police station, this breathalyser equipment must be broken."

"I doubt it", said the man, "tonight I'm the designated decoy."

I am hereby officially tendering
my resignation as an adult. I have
decided I would like to accept the
responsibilities of an 8 year-old again.

I want to go to McDonald's and think
that it's a four star restaurant.
I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud
puddle and make a sidewalk with rocks.
I want to think M&Ms are better than
money because you can eat them.
I want to lie under a big oak tree and
run a lemonade stand with my friends on
a hot summer's day.

I want to return to a time when life was
simple; When all you knew were colors,
multiplication tables, and nursery
rhymes, but that didn't bother you,
because you didn't know what you
didn't know and you didn't care.

All you knew was to be happy because you were
blissfully unaware of
all the things that should make you
worried or upset.

I want to think the world is fair.
That everyone is honest and good.

I want to believe that anything is
possible. I want to be oblivious
to the complexities of life and be
overly excited by the little things
again.

I want to live simple again. I
don't want my day to consist of
computer crashes, mountains of paperwork,
depressing news, how to survive more days
in the month than there is money in the
bank, doctor bills, gossip, illness,
and loss of loved ones.

I want to believe in the power of
smiles, hugs, a kind word, truth,
justice, peace, dreams, the imagination,
mankind, and making angels in the snow.
So . . . here's my checkbook
and my car-keys, my credit card bills
and my 401K statements. I am officially
resigning from adulthood.

And if you want to discuss this
further, you'll have to catch me
first, cause........
....."Tag! You're it."

Here is a look into the corporate mind that is very interesting, educational, historical, completely true, and hysterical all at the same time:
The US standard railroad gauge (width between the two rails) is 4 feet, 8.5 inches. That's an exceedingly odd number. Why was that gauge used?
Because that's the way they built them in England, and the US railroads were built by English expatriates.
Why did the English build them like that? Because the first rail lines were built by the same people who built the pre-railroad tramways, and that's the gauge they used.
Why did "they" use that gauge then? Because the people who built the tramways used the same jigs and tools that they used for building wagons which used that wheel spacing.
Okay! Why did the wagons have that particular odd wheel spacing?
Well, if they tried to use any other spacing, the wagon wheels would break on some of the old, long distance roads in England, because that's the spacing of the wheel ruts.
So who built those old rutted roads? The first long distance roads in Europe (and England) were built by Imperial Rome for their legions.
The roads have been used ever since. And the ruts in the roads? Roman war chariots first formed the initial ruts, which everyone else had to match for fear of destroying their wagon wheels. Since the chariots were made for (or by) Imperial Rome, they were all alike in the matter of wheel spacing.
The United States standard railroad gauge of 4 feet, 8.5 inches derives from the original specification for an Imperial Roman war chariot.
Specifications and bureaucracies live forever. So the next time you are handed a specification and wonder what horse's ass came up with it, you may be exactly right, because the Imperial Roman war chariots were made just wide enough to accommodate the back ends of two war horses. Thus, we have the answer to the original question.
Now the twist to the story..............
There's an interesting extension to the story about railroad gauges and horses' behinds. When we see a Space Shuttle sitting on its launch pad, there are two big booster rockets attached to the sides of the main fuel tank. These are solid rocket boosters, or SRBs. The SRBs are made by Thiokol at their factory in Utah. The engineers who designed the SRBs might have preferred to make them a bit fatter, but the SRBs had to be shipped by train from the factory to the launch site. The railroad line from the factory had to run through a tunnel in the mountains. The SRBs had to fit through that tunnel. The tunnel is slightly wider than the railroad track, and the railroad track is about as wide as two horses' behinds. So, the major design feature of what is arguably the world's most advanced transportation system was determined over two thousand years ago by the width of a Horse's Ass!

Deductions Denied

(Note: Sometimes a story comes along that needs no polishing or enhancement to make it better. This is one. It's a real letter submitted to the IRS in the midst of 1995's weird and bizarre denial of dependents, exemptions and credits. The letter speaks for itself.)

Dear Sirs:

I'm responding to your letter denying the deduction for 2 of the 3 dependents I claimed on my 1994 Federal Tax return. Thank you. I have questioned whether or not these are my children for years.

They are evil and expensive. It's only fair that, since they are minors and no longer my responsibility, the government know something about them and what to expect over the next year. Please do not try to reassign them to me next year and reinstate the deduction.

They are yours! The oldest, Kristen, is now 17. She is brilliant. Ask her! I suggest you put her to work in your office where she can answer people's questions about their returns. While she has no formal training, it has not seemed to hamper her mastery of any subject you can name. Taxes should be a breeze. Next year she is going to college. I think it's wonderful that you will now be responsible for that little expense.

While you mull that over, keep in mind she has a truck. It doesn't run at the moment, so you have the choice of appropriating some Department of Defense funds to fix the vehicle, or getting up early to drive her to school.

Kristen also has a boyfriend. Oh joy! While she possesses all of the wisdom of the universe, her alleged mother and I have felt it best to occasionally remind her of the virtues of abstinence, or in the face of overwhelming passion, safe sex. This is uncomfortable, so I'm quite relieved you will be handling this in the future. May I suggest that you reinstate Dr. Jocelyn Elders who had a rather good handle on the problem.

Patrick is 14. I've had my suspicions about this one. His eyes are a little closer together than those of normal people. He may be a tax examiner himself one day, if he is not incarcerated first. In February, I was awakened at 3 a.m. by a police officer who brought Pat home. He and his friends were TP'ing houses. In the future would you like him delivered to the local IRS office, or to Ogden, UT?

Kids at 14 will do almost anything on a dare. His hair is purple. Permanent dye, temporary dye, what's the big deal? Learn to deal with it. You'll have plenty of time, as he is sitting out a few days of school after instigating a food fight in the cafeteria. I'll take care of filing your ph # with the vice-principal. Oh yes, he and all of his friends have raging hormones. This is the house of testosterone and it'll be much more peaceful when he lives in your home. DO NOT leave him or his friends unsupervised with girls, explosives, inflammables, inflatables, vehicles, or telephones. (They find telephones a source of unimaginable amusement. Be sure to lock out the 900 and 976 numbers!)

Heather is an alien. She slid through a time warp and appeared as if by magic one year. I'm sure this one is yours. She is 10 going on 21. She came from a bad trip in the sixties. She wears tie-dyed clothes, beads, sandals, and hair that looks like Tiny Tim's. Fortunately you will be raising my taxes to help offset the pinch of her remedial reading courses. "Hooked On Phonics" is expensive, so the school dropped it. But here's the good news! You can buy it yourself for half the amt of the deduction that you're denying me! It's quite obvious that we're terrible parents (ask the other two).

She can't speak English. Most people under twenty understand the curious patois she fashioned out of valley girls/boys in the in hood/reggae/yuppie/political double speak. The school sends her to a speech pathologist who has her roll her "r's". It added a refreshing Mexican/Irish touch to her voice. She wears hats backwards, baggy pants, and wants one of her ears pierced 4 more times. She has a fascination with tattoos that worries me, but I'm sure that you can handle it. Bring a truck when you come after her, she sort of "nests" and I think that it would be easier to move the entire thing than find out what it is really made of.

You denied 2 of the 3 exemptions. It's only fair you get to pick which 2 you take. I prefer you take the youngest 2, I'll still go bankrupt with Kristen's college, but then I'm free! If you take the 2 oldest, I'll still have time for counseling before Heather becomes a teenager. If you take the 2 girls, then I won't feel so bad about putting Patrick in a military academy.

Please let me know your decision asap, as I've already increased the withholding on my W-4 to cover the $395 in additional tax and made a down payment on an airplane.

Yours truly, Bill

(Note: the IRS reconsidered the deductions and reinstated his refund!!)

Educational Playmates(R) is proud to announce the newest in edutainment:

The Talking Trombone Teacher Doll

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Features include lessons on Rochut book one, Tuba Mirum, Bolero, and basic slide technique. (Intonation lesson not available with this model.)


Talking Trombone Teacher Doll comes in Plush (Approachable) and Rubber (Spineless), and with your choice of outfit:

Jazz Trombone Teacher Doll:
In addition, you may choose a joke/anecdote repertoire for your Trombone Teacher Doll.

Order Talking Trombone Teacher Doll today for only:
$175 for four lessons, or
$100 for 10 lessons.
Also available: Farting Trombone Teacher Doll.

Joe, a dynamite jazz saxophone player is killed in a car crash, dies instantly, and finds himself before St. Peter at the front gate of heaven.

St. Peter checks The Book, "You're not listed, to hell you must go!"

As Joe approaches, he hears this fantastic jazz sounds emanating from beyond hell's door. Satan warmly greets him with a smile, "Welcome, son, come on in, there's a spot reserved just for you!"

Joe remarks, "Surely, this can't be hell?"

"Why, of course it is, my son, we play the best jazz music around!" Satan replies.

As Joe settles in his seat, he's given a fabulous sounding saxophone and gets right into the groove with the rest of the band. He's in his glory, wailing out notes he never knew existed. Then the lead player motions for him to get up and play his solo which he executes with the greatest of ease.

"Man, oh, man, I would have never tho't hell would be like this! This is heaven!" he says to himself.

Finished, he sits down and continues playing thro' several more solos by other band members. He's getting tired now and leans over to the next guy and asks, "Hey, man, so when do we go to the CODA?"

The guy replies, "We NEVER go to the CODA!"

Deductions Denied

(Note: Sometimes a story comes along that needs no polishing or enhancement to make it better. This is one. It's a real letter submitted to the IRS in the midst of 1995's weird and bizarre denial of dependents, exemptions and credits. The letter speaks for itself.)

Dear Sirs:

I'm responding to your letter denying the deduction for 2 of the 3 dependents I claimed on my 1994 Federal Tax return. Thank you. I have questioned whether or not these are my children for years.

They are evil and expensive. It's only fair that, since they are minors and no longer my responsibility, the government know something about them and what to expect over the next year. Please do not try to reassign them to me next year and reinstate the deduction.

They are yours! The oldest, Kristen, is now 17. She is brilliant. Ask her! I suggest you put her to work in your office where she can answer people's questions about their returns. While she has no formal training, it has not seemed to hamper her mastery of any subject you can name. Taxes should be a breeze. Next year she is going to college. I think it's wonderful that you will now be responsible for that little expense.

While you mull that over, keep in mind she has a truck. It doesn't run at the moment, so you have the choice of appropriating some Department of Defense funds to fix the vehicle, or getting up early to drive her to school.

Kristen also has a boyfriend. Oh joy! While she possesses all of the wisdom of the universe, her alleged mother and I have felt it best to occasionally remind her of the virtues of abstinence, or in the face of overwhelming passion, safe sex. This is uncomfortable, so I'm quite relieved you will be handling this in the future. May I suggest that you reinstate Dr. Jocelyn Elders who had a rather good handle on the problem.

Patrick is 14. I've had my suspicions about this one. His eyes are a little closer together than those of

Tickle Me Elmo

A new employee is hired at the Tickle Me Elmo factory. The personnel manager explains her duties, and tells her to report to work promptly at 8:00 AM.
The next day at 8:45 AM, there's a knock at the personnel manager's door.
The assembly line foreman comes in and starts ranting about this new employee. He says she's incredibly slow, and the whole line is backing up.
The foreman takes the personnel manager down to the factory floor to show him the problem. Sure enough, Elmo's are backed up all over the place.
At the end of the line is the new employee. She has a roll of the material used for the Elmo's and a big bag of marbles. They both watch as she cuts a little piece of fabric, wraps it around two marbles, and starts sewing the little package between Elmo's legs.
The personnel manager starts laughing hysterically. After several minutes, he pulls himself together, walks over to the woman, and says, "I'm sorry, I guess you misunderstood me yesterday. Your job is to give Elmo two test tickles.

On a British Airways flight from Johannesburg, a middle-aged, well-off white South African Lady has found herself sitting next to a black man. She called the cabin crew attendant over to complain about her seating.

"What seems to be the problem Madam?" asked the ttendant.

"Can't you see?" she said " You've sat me next to a kaffir. I can't possibly sit next to this disgusting human. Find me another seat!"

"Please calm down Madam." the stewardess replied. "The flight is very full today, but I'll tell you what I'll do-I'll go and check to see if we have any seats available in club or first class."

The woman cocks a snooty look at the outraged black man beside her (not to mention many of the surrounding passengers).

A few minutes later the stewardess returns with the good news, which she delivers to the lady, who cannot help but look at the people around her with a smug and self satisfied grin: "Madam, unfortunately, as I suspected, economy is full. I've spoken to the cabin services director, and club is also full. However, we do have one seat in first class."

Before the lady has a chance to answer, the stewardess continues..."It is most extraordinary to make this kind of upgrade, however, and I have had to get special permission from the captain. But, given the circumstances, the captain felt that it was outrageous that someone should be forced to sit next to such an obnoxious person."

With which, she turned to the black man sitting next to her, and said: "So if you'd like to get your things, sir, I have your seat ready for you..."

At which point, apparently the surrounding passengers stood and gave a standing ovation while the black guy walks up to the front of the plane.

In honor of Charles Schultz, who's just retired Charlie Brown and the gang.

Most cartoon characters remain frozen in time. Though they've been around almost 50 years, the members of the Peanuts gang are in some unspecified elementary school holding pattern. But what if they had been allowed to age like the rest of us? With apologies to Charles Schulz:

Charlie Brown:
Operates Good Grief Counseling Inc., which specializes in manic-depressives and people who are just having a bad day. Moonlights as a pitching coach at high school and college levels. Married to Marcie. They have a roundheaded son who wears glasses.

Linus:
Developer of Security Blanket Software, which is a hot item on the New York Stock Exchange. Worth millions but is actively involved in charitable causes, including the Great Pumpkin 5K Fun Run every Halloween. Only man who makes Bill Gates nervous.

Lucy:
Serving her seventh term in Congress. On her third husband. Claims she hasn't thought about Schroeder in years, but the background music on her answering machine is Beethoven.

Schroeder:
After years on the classical performing circuit, he runs a piano bar in Carmel, California. Won't let anybody lean on his piano.

Sally:
Never quite got over being spurned by Linus. Has a cat named Sweet Babboo. Sells Mary Kay.

Peppermint Patty:
Women's athletic director at a Midwest university. Her fashion credo: "Sandals go with everything."

Snoppy:
In dog years, he'd be 350. What do you think would've happened to him? Linus has created an endowment at Daisy Hill Puppy farm in Snoopy's memory.

[I wonder what ever happened to the "Little Redheaded Girl"?]

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