A helicopter was flying around above Seattle yesterday when an electrical
malfunction disabled all of aircraft's electronic navigation and communication
equipment. Due to the clouds and haze the pilot could not determine his
position or course to steer to the airport.
The pilot saw a tall building, flew toward it, circled, drew a handwritted
sign and held it in the helicopter's window.
The sign said "WHERE AM I"? in large letters.
People in the tall building quickly responded to the aircraft, drew a large
sign an held it in a building window. The sign said, "YOU ARE IN A
HELICOPTER".
The pilot smiled, waved, looked at his map and determined the course to steer
to SEATAC ( Seattle/Tacoma) airport and landed safely.
After they were on the ground, the co-pilot asked the pilot how the "YOU ARE
IN A HELICOPTER" sign helped determine their position. The pilot responded, "
I knew that had to be the Microsoft building because they gave me a
technically correct but completely useless answer".

A Guide to the Identification and Classification of North American Farts

Learning- or better still, thinking up- names for fart types is a
traditional early-adolescent ritual. Similarly, methods of identifying
the source of a fart are a subject of peer-group, or tribal,
speculation, the usual rule of thumb being "Who smelled it, dealt it,"
or "The smeller's the feller."

Occasionally, this oral tradition has acheived the level of Xerox
publication, but never before has a systematic analysis, along the lines
of Jane's Fighting ships or A Field Guide to the Birds, been attempted
in print. Tentatively, then, we present the following.



Blind Farts:  Traditional noiseless reekers. (Expression since circa
1880 - see also "SBD's").

Boomers:  Full-throated, rousing explosions; the parent orginism
frequently betrays his or her authorship with a smile of ill-conceled
pride.

Carpet Creepers:  Heavier- than- air creations, these linger and
permeate the atmosphere at or near ground level; source invariably
anonymous, having left the room.

Fizzles: Efforts at first promising, but eventually unsatisfactory, at
least to the donor; often effective upon bystanders. Often the last of a
series; originator betrays disappointment.

Fudgies: See Wet Ones.

One-Cheek Sneaks: Attempted surreptitous contributions, usually
signified BY the the artist's "tilting". Ricocheting off metal "bridge
chairs" or church pews, they posses satisfactory resonance, produce
blushes, giggles, glares.


Poohs:  Open-spincter donations, gusty and full-bodied, but lacking
sonority; popular on buses; customarily unaknowledged.

SBD's:  (Silent But Deadly  type).  Consistant with the Law of
Conservation of Energy, what SBD lacks in audible qualities is
compensated for in a semi-lethal olfactory intensity. The mechanism
responsible is usually the innocent-looking  person glancing about
suspiciously.

Screamers:  High-pitched, tight-spincter offerings, often of astonishing
duration and tonal variations; most pleasuribly exchanged among roomates
or frat brothers, or inspired by presence of officious bureaucrat.

Sliders:  See One-Cheek Sneaks.

Squeegies: Small, immature, and moist products. Humiliating for all
concerned.

Wet Ones: (aka Brewer's Farts, Fudgies, Playing Misty). Samples are
accompnied by gutteral, rasping, or lisping sound, indicating vaporous
content. Originator registers astonishment, dred, then departs, walking
funny.

Whiffers: see Poohs.

Where do you find a no legged dog?
Right where you left him.

What do you call 500 Natives running on the race track? 

    The Indy 500. 

Late one night, little Johnny woke up to the some loud noises
coming from his parents' bedroom. He got out of bed and walked
down the hall towards his parents room. Before he made it to
the end of the hall, the noises had ceased and the bathroom
light had gone on. Little Johnny walked into the bathroom and
saw his father removing a used condom.
"Daddy, what are you doing?" asked little Johnny.
His father looked around nervously wondering what he could tell
his son.
I, um, I'm just checking out the bathroom for mice."
replied his father.
Johnny looked at his father with a gaze of confusion and said,
"Well, what are you doing? Fucking them?"