Today's jokes [6.30.08]

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For their 25th wedding anniversary, a man decides to take his 
wife on a trip to France. After two weeks touring France, they 
return to the airport for the trip back to America. While waiting 
for the plane, the wife turns to her husband and says, "This was 
the most wonderful gift I could have asked for on our 25th 
anniversary. I can't wait to hear what you have in mind for our 
50th anniversary!" Her husband leaned over, kissed her on the 
cheek, and said, "I'm going to come back and get you"

Sent by Scott

   A Synopsis of the Microsoft Car
   At a recent computer expo (Comdex), Bill Gates reportedly compared the
   computer industry with the auto industry and stated, "If GM had kept
   up with technology like the computer industry has, we would all be
   driving $25.00 cars that get 100 miles to the gallon." Recently,
   General Motors addresses this comment by releasing this statement,
   "yes, but would you want your car to crash twice a day?"
   Below is a synopsis of the Microsoft Car: Every time they repainted
   the lines on the road, you would have to buy a new car. Occasionally
   your car would die on the freeway for no reason, and you would just
   accept this, restart and drive on. Occasionally, executing a maneuver
   would cause your car to stop and fail, and you would have to
   re-install the engine. for some strange reason, you would accept this
   too. You could only have one person in the car at a time, unless you
   bought "Car95" or "CarNT". But then you would have to buy more seats.
   Macintosh would make a car that was powered by the sun, was reliable,
   five times faster, twice as easy to drive, but would only run on 5% of
   the roads. The Macintosh car owners would get expensive Microsoft
   upgrades for their cars, which would make their cars run much slower.
   The oil, gas and alternator lights would be replaced with single
   "general car fault" lights. The airbag system would say "Are you
   sure?" before going off. If you were involved in a crash, you would
   have no idea what happened.

Seven friends once pulled this at my college cafeteria.
One put a hot water bottle filled with pea soup down his chest;
he sat at the head of a table, with the other six friends
sitting along the sides.
When the cafeteria was pretty full of people,
he made a loud noise (to attract attention),
stood up, bent over and squeezed his chest.
This caused a huge gush of green liquid to spew all over the table;
the other six immediately began to eat this green liquid.
I think a lot of food went uneaten that night.

                                  College
                                      
                               by Dave Barry
     
   
  Many of you young persons out there are seriously thinking about
  going to college.  (That is, of course, a lie.  The only things you
  young persons think seriously about are loud music and sex.  Trust
  me: these are closely related to college.)

    College is basically a bunch of rooms where you sit for roughly
  two thousand hours and try to memorize things.  The two thousand
  hours are spread out over four years; you spend the rest of the time
  sleeping and trying to get dates.
    Basically, you learn two kinds of things in college:

    * Things you will need to know in later life (two hours).  These
  include how to make collect telephone calls and get beer and
  crepe-paper stains out of your pajamas.

    * Things you will not need to know in later life (1,998 hours).
  These are the things you learn in classes whose names end in -ology,
  - - -osophy, -istry, -ics, and so on.  The idea is, you memorize these
  things, then write them down in little exam books, then forget them.
  If you fail to forget them, you become a professor and have to stay
  in college for the rest of your life.

    It's very difficult to forget everything.  For example, when I was
  in college, I had to memorize -- don't ask me why -- the names of
  three metaphysical poets other than John Donne.  I have managed to
  forget one of them, but I still remember that the other two were
  named Vaughan and Crashaw.  Sometimes, when I'm trying to remember
  something important like whether my wife told me to get tuna packed
  in oil or tuna packed in water, Vaughan and Crashaw just pop up in
  my mind, right there in the supermarket.  It's a terrible waste of
  brain cells.

    After you've been in college for a year or so, you're supposed to
  choose a major, which is the subject you intend to memorize and
  forget the most things about.  Here is a very important piece of
  advice: Be sure to choose a major that does not involve Known Facts
  and Right Answers.

   This means you must *not* major in mathematics, physics, biology,
  or chemistry, because these subjects involve actual facts.  If, for
  example, you major in mathematics, you're going to wander into class
  one day and the professor will say: "Define the cosine integer of
  the quadrant of a rhomboid binary axis, and extrapolate your result
  to five significant vertices." If you don't come up with *exactly*
  the answer the professor has in mind, you fail.  The same is true of
  chemistry: if you write in your exam book that carbon and hydrogen
  combine to form oak, your professor will flunk you.  He wants you to
  come up with the same answer he and all the other chemists have
  agreed on.  Scientists are extremely snotty about this.

    So you should major in subjects like English, philosophy,
  psychology, and sociology -- subjects in which nobody really
  understands what anybody else is talking about, and which involve
  virtually no actual facts.  I attended classes in all these
  subjects, so I'll give you a quick overview of each:

    ENGLISH: This involves writing papers about long books you have
  read little snippets of just before class.  Here is a tip on how to
  get good grades on your English papers: Never say anything about a
  book that anybody with any common sense would say.  For example,
  suppose you are studying Moby-Dick.  Anybody with any common sense
  would say that Moby-Dick is a big white whale, since the characters
  in the book refer to it as a big white whale roughly eleven thousand
  times.  So in *your* paper, *you* say Moby-Dick is actually the
  Republic of Ireland.  Your professor, who is sick to death of
  reading papers and never liked Moby-Dick anyway, will think you are
  enormously creative.  If you can regularly come up with lunatic
  interpretations of simple stories, you should major in English.

    PHILOSOPHY: Basically, this involves sitting in a room and
  deciding there is no such thing as reality and then going to lunch.
  You should major in philosophy if you plan to take a lot of drugs.

    PSYCHOLOGY: This involves talking about rats and dreams.
  Psychologists are *obsessed* with rats and dreams.  I once spent an
  entire semester training a rat to punch little buttons in a certain
  sequence, then training my roommate to do the same thing.  The rat
  learned much faster.  My roommate is now a doctor.

    If you like rats or dreams, and above all if you dream about rats,
  you should major in psychology.

    SOCIOLOGY: For sheer lack of intelligibility, sociology is far and
  away the number one subject.  I sat through hundreds of hours of
  sociology courses, and read gobs of sociology writing, and I never
  once heard or read a coherent statement.  This is because
  sociologists want to be considered scientists, so they spend most of
  their time translating simple, obvious observations into
  scientific-sounding code.  If you plan to major in sociology, you'll
  have to learn to do the same thing.  For example, suppose you have
  observed that children cry when they fall down.  You should write:
  "Methodological observation of the sociometrical behavior tendencies
  of prematurated isolates indicates that a casual relationship exists
  between groundward tropism and lachrimatory, or 'crying,' behavior
  forms." If you can keep this up for fifty or sixty pages, you will
  get a large government grant.
  

   This guy wakes up one morning to find a gorilla in his tree. He looks
   in the phone book for a gorilla removal service until he finds one.
   "Is it a boy or girl Gorilla?" the service guy asks. "Boy," is the
   man's response. "Oh yeah, I can do it. I'll be right there," says the
   service guy. An hour later the service guy shows up with a stick, a
   Chihuahua, a shotgun, and a pair of handcuffs. He then gives the man
   some nstructions: "Now, I'm going to climb this tree and poke the
   gorilla with the stick until he falls. When he does, the trained
   Chihuahua will bite the gorilla's testicles off. The gorilla will then
   cross his hands to protect himself and allow you to put the handcuffs
   on him." The man asks, "What do I do with the shotgun?" The service
   guy replies, "If I fall out of the tree before the gorilla, shoot the
   Chihuahua."

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