Today's stories [7.8.11]
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Heard from a tourbus driver in Washington DC earlier today:
Had you heard that Socks the Cat died last night?
Yeah, he climbed into bed between Bill and Hillary
and froze to death.
Late one Saturday evening, I was awakened by the ringing of my phone. In
a sleepy grumpy voice I said hello. The party on the other end of the
line paused for a moment before rushing breathlessly into a lengthy
"Mom, this is Susan and I'm sorry I woke you up, but I had to call because
I'm going to be a little late getting home. See, Dad's car has a flat but
it's not my fault. Honest! I don't know what happened. The tire just went
flat while we were inside the theater. Please don't be mad, okay?"
Since I don't have any daughters, I knew the person had misdialed.
"I'm sorry dear," I replied, "but you've reached the wrong number. I don't
have a daughter named Susan."
"Gosh, Mom, "came the young woman's voice, "I didn't think you'd be this
Blondes Protective Computer Gear
Yesterday I came back to my office from Court. There was a new
secretary (a very attractive blonde) in the office down the hall from
She flagged me down and asked for help. "My floppy drive won't work,
can you help me ?" she asked. I told her I'd take a look and
proceeded over to her machine, where I found shredded up clear
plastic Baggie-like stuff hanging out of her 3.5" floppy drive.
While I spent the next 20 minutes getting out her disk and digging
out the plastic, I noticed two guys, John and Dave, in the hall
trying awfully hard to keep straight faces. Suspecting some mischief,
I asked her how the plastic got into the drive.
"Oh, you mean the condom!", she said. "Condom???", I asked. "Yes,
John & Dave over there told me to always put a condom on my disk
before inserting it, to prevent catching viruses."
By this point, John & Dave were roaring, and it was all I could do to
keep from joining them. The "condom" turned out to be a standard 3.5"
plastic sleeve. I delicately explained to her that a practical joke
had been played, and she shouldn't do that anymore, when she asked
(as serious as one could be), "Does that mean I don't have to stroke
it ten times or blow on it either???"
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