mmckee1952
New member
This might have happened (no it didn’t) Romney said he can’t show his taxes for the past 10 years, his dog ate it and then you know what happened, Obama ate the dog. We’ve gone from yes we can to no one can.
Humor
- Thread starter mmckee1952
- Start date
Rhino
New member
Final Exam Bonus Question
Exothermic or Endothermic? You decide......
The following was supposedly an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well.
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.
As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different Religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell.
With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell,then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it?
If we accept the postulate given to me by Terri during my Freshman year that, "it will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you", and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number 2 must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct... leaving only Heaven thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Terri kept shouting "Oh my God."
THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY "A".
Exothermic or Endothermic? You decide......
The following was supposedly an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well.
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.
As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different Religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell.
With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell,then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it?
If we accept the postulate given to me by Terri during my Freshman year that, "it will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you", and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number 2 must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct... leaving only Heaven thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Terri kept shouting "Oh my God."
THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY "A".
Rhino
New member
Yeah, that's always been one of my favorites.
Rhino
New member
Latin Phrases for All Occasions
Abutebaris modo subjunctivo.
You've been misusing the subjunctive.
Aio, quantitas magna frumentorum est.
Yes, that is a very large amount of corn.
Anulos qui animum ostendunt omnes gestemus!
Let's all wear mood rings!
Avis est! Aeronavis est! Supervir est!
It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman!
Balaenae nobis conservandae sunt.
Save the whales.
Braccae illae virides cum subucula rosea et tunica Caledonia-quam elenganter concinnatur!
Those green pants go so well with that pink shirt and the plaid jacket!
Braccae tuae aperiuntur.
Your fly is open.
Canis meus id comedit.
My dog ate it.
Capillamentum? Haudquaquam conieci esse!
A wig? I never would have guessed!
Catapultam habeo. Nisi pecuniam omnem mihi dabris, ad caput tuum saxum immane mittam.
I have a catapult. Give me all of your money, or I will fling an enormous rock at your head.
Certe, toto, sentio nos in kansate non iam adesse.
You know, Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.
Cogito ergo sum.
I think, therefore I am.
Cogito ergo doleo.
I think, therefore I am depressed.
Conlige suspectos semper habitos.
Round up the usual suspects.
Credidi me felem vidisse!
I tought I taw a puddy tat!
Cum catapultae proscriptae erunt tum soli proscripti catapultas habebunt.
When catapults are outlawed, only outlaws will have catapults.
Diabolus fecit, ut id facerem!
The devil made me do it!
Dic mihi solum facta, domina.
Just the facts, ma'am.
Die dulci freure!
Have a nice day!
Fac me cocleario vomere!
Gag me with a spoon!
Fac ut gaudeam.
Make my day.
Fac ut vivas.
Get a life.
Farrago fatigans!
Thuffering thuccotash!
Frena pro feris teneo.
I brake for animals.
Heus, hic nos omnes in agmine sunt!
Hey, we're all in line here!
Hostes alienigeni me abduxerunt.
I was kidnapped by aliens.
Id tibi praebet speciem lepidissimam!
It looks great on you!
Illius me paenitet, dux.
Sorry about that, chief.
In dentibus anticis frustum magnum spiniciae habes.
You have a big piece of spinach in your front teeth.
Ita erat quando hic adveni.
It was that way when I got here.
Ita vero, esne comoedus?
A comedian, huh?
Magister Mundi sum!
I am the Master of the Universe!
Me transmitte sursum, Caledoni!
Beam me up, Scotty!
Mellita, domi adsum.
Honey, I'm home.
Minime senuisti!
You haven't aged a bit!
Nemo hic adest illius nominis.
There is no one here by that name.
Nescio quid dicas.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Nihil curo de ista tua stulta superstitione.
I'm not interested in your dopey religious cult.
Nihil declaro.
I have nothing to declare.
Nihil est -- in vita priore ego imperator Romanus fui.
That's nothing -- in a previous life I was a Roman emperor.
Noli me vocate. Ego te vocabo.
Don't call me. I'll call you.
Non illigitamus carborundum.
Don't let the bastards grind you down.
Non sum pisces.
I am not a fish.
Non, mihi ignosce, credo me insequentem esse.
No, excuse me, I believe I'm next.
Nonne de novo eboraco venis?
You're from New York, aren't you?
Nonne macescis?
Have you lost weight?
Osculare pultem meam!
Kiss my grits!
Perscriptio in manibus tabellariorum est.
The check is in the post.
Prehende uxorem meam, sis!
Take my wife, please!
Quantum materiae materietur marmota monax si marmota monax materiam possit materiari?
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
Quid agis, medice?
What's up, Doc?
Quo signo nata es?
What's your sign?
Quomodo cogis comas tuas sic videri?
How do you get your hair to do that?
Radicitus, comes!
Really rad, dude!
Radix lecti.
Couch potato.
Raptus regaliter.
Royally screwed.
Re vera, cara mea, mea nil refert.
Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.
Re vera, potas bene.
Say, you sure are drinking a lot.
Recedite, plebes! Gero rem imperialem!
Stand aside, plebeians! I am on imperial business!
Romani quidem artem amatoriam invenerunt.
You know, the Romans invented the art of love.
Senito aliquos togatos contra me conspirare.
I think some people in togas are plotting against me.
Si fallatis officium, quaestor infitias eat se quicquam scire de factis vestris.
If you fail, the secretary will disavow all knowledge of your activities.
Sic faciunt omnes.
Everyone is doing it.
Sic hoc adfixum in obice legere potes, et liberaliter educatus et nimis propinquus ades.
If you can read this bumper sticker, you are both very well educated, and much too close.
Sona si latine loqueris.
Honk if you speak Latin.
Spero nos familiares mansuros.
I hope we'll still be friends.
Subucula tua apparet.
Your slip is showing.
Tam exanimis quam tunica nehru fio.
I am as dead as the Nehru jacket.
Te audire no possum. Musa sapientum fixa est in aure.
I can't hear you. I have a banana in my ear.
Te capiam, cunicule sceleste!
I'll get you, you wascally wabbit!
Te precor dulcissime supplex!
Pretty please with a cherry on top!
Totum dependeat.
Let it all hang out.
Tuis pugis pignore!
You bet your bippy!
Unitam logica falsa tuam philosophiam totam suffodiant.
May faulty logic undermine your entire philosophy.
Ut si!
As if!
Utinam barbari spatioum proprium tuum invadant.
May barbarians invade your personal space.
Utinam coniurati te in foro interficiant.
May conspirators assasinate you in the hall.
Vacca foeda.
Stupid cow.
Vah! Denuone latine loquebar? Me ineptum. Interdum modo elabitur.
Oh! Was I speaking Latin again? Silly me. Sometimes it just sort of slips out.
Ventis secundis, tene cursum.
Go with the flow.
Vescere bracis meis.
Eat my shorts.
Vidistine nuper imagines moventes bonas?
Seen any good movies lately?
Abutebaris modo subjunctivo.
You've been misusing the subjunctive.
Aio, quantitas magna frumentorum est.
Yes, that is a very large amount of corn.
Anulos qui animum ostendunt omnes gestemus!
Let's all wear mood rings!
Avis est! Aeronavis est! Supervir est!
It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman!
Balaenae nobis conservandae sunt.
Save the whales.
Braccae illae virides cum subucula rosea et tunica Caledonia-quam elenganter concinnatur!
Those green pants go so well with that pink shirt and the plaid jacket!
Braccae tuae aperiuntur.
Your fly is open.
Canis meus id comedit.
My dog ate it.
Capillamentum? Haudquaquam conieci esse!
A wig? I never would have guessed!
Catapultam habeo. Nisi pecuniam omnem mihi dabris, ad caput tuum saxum immane mittam.
I have a catapult. Give me all of your money, or I will fling an enormous rock at your head.
Certe, toto, sentio nos in kansate non iam adesse.
You know, Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.
Cogito ergo sum.
I think, therefore I am.
Cogito ergo doleo.
I think, therefore I am depressed.
Conlige suspectos semper habitos.
Round up the usual suspects.
Credidi me felem vidisse!
I tought I taw a puddy tat!
Cum catapultae proscriptae erunt tum soli proscripti catapultas habebunt.
When catapults are outlawed, only outlaws will have catapults.
Diabolus fecit, ut id facerem!
The devil made me do it!
Dic mihi solum facta, domina.
Just the facts, ma'am.
Die dulci freure!
Have a nice day!
Fac me cocleario vomere!
Gag me with a spoon!
Fac ut gaudeam.
Make my day.
Fac ut vivas.
Get a life.
Farrago fatigans!
Thuffering thuccotash!
Frena pro feris teneo.
I brake for animals.
Heus, hic nos omnes in agmine sunt!
Hey, we're all in line here!
Hostes alienigeni me abduxerunt.
I was kidnapped by aliens.
Id tibi praebet speciem lepidissimam!
It looks great on you!
Illius me paenitet, dux.
Sorry about that, chief.
In dentibus anticis frustum magnum spiniciae habes.
You have a big piece of spinach in your front teeth.
Ita erat quando hic adveni.
It was that way when I got here.
Ita vero, esne comoedus?
A comedian, huh?
Magister Mundi sum!
I am the Master of the Universe!
Me transmitte sursum, Caledoni!
Beam me up, Scotty!
Mellita, domi adsum.
Honey, I'm home.
Minime senuisti!
You haven't aged a bit!
Nemo hic adest illius nominis.
There is no one here by that name.
Nescio quid dicas.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Nihil curo de ista tua stulta superstitione.
I'm not interested in your dopey religious cult.
Nihil declaro.
I have nothing to declare.
Nihil est -- in vita priore ego imperator Romanus fui.
That's nothing -- in a previous life I was a Roman emperor.
Noli me vocate. Ego te vocabo.
Don't call me. I'll call you.
Non illigitamus carborundum.
Don't let the bastards grind you down.
Non sum pisces.
I am not a fish.
Non, mihi ignosce, credo me insequentem esse.
No, excuse me, I believe I'm next.
Nonne de novo eboraco venis?
You're from New York, aren't you?
Nonne macescis?
Have you lost weight?
Osculare pultem meam!
Kiss my grits!
Perscriptio in manibus tabellariorum est.
The check is in the post.
Prehende uxorem meam, sis!
Take my wife, please!
Quantum materiae materietur marmota monax si marmota monax materiam possit materiari?
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
Quid agis, medice?
What's up, Doc?
Quo signo nata es?
What's your sign?
Quomodo cogis comas tuas sic videri?
How do you get your hair to do that?
Radicitus, comes!
Really rad, dude!
Radix lecti.
Couch potato.
Raptus regaliter.
Royally screwed.
Re vera, cara mea, mea nil refert.
Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.
Re vera, potas bene.
Say, you sure are drinking a lot.
Recedite, plebes! Gero rem imperialem!
Stand aside, plebeians! I am on imperial business!
Romani quidem artem amatoriam invenerunt.
You know, the Romans invented the art of love.
Senito aliquos togatos contra me conspirare.
I think some people in togas are plotting against me.
Si fallatis officium, quaestor infitias eat se quicquam scire de factis vestris.
If you fail, the secretary will disavow all knowledge of your activities.
Sic faciunt omnes.
Everyone is doing it.
Sic hoc adfixum in obice legere potes, et liberaliter educatus et nimis propinquus ades.
If you can read this bumper sticker, you are both very well educated, and much too close.
Sona si latine loqueris.
Honk if you speak Latin.
Spero nos familiares mansuros.
I hope we'll still be friends.
Subucula tua apparet.
Your slip is showing.
Tam exanimis quam tunica nehru fio.
I am as dead as the Nehru jacket.
Te audire no possum. Musa sapientum fixa est in aure.
I can't hear you. I have a banana in my ear.
Te capiam, cunicule sceleste!
I'll get you, you wascally wabbit!
Te precor dulcissime supplex!
Pretty please with a cherry on top!
Totum dependeat.
Let it all hang out.
Tuis pugis pignore!
You bet your bippy!
Unitam logica falsa tuam philosophiam totam suffodiant.
May faulty logic undermine your entire philosophy.
Ut si!
As if!
Utinam barbari spatioum proprium tuum invadant.
May barbarians invade your personal space.
Utinam coniurati te in foro interficiant.
May conspirators assasinate you in the hall.
Vacca foeda.
Stupid cow.
Vah! Denuone latine loquebar? Me ineptum. Interdum modo elabitur.
Oh! Was I speaking Latin again? Silly me. Sometimes it just sort of slips out.
Ventis secundis, tene cursum.
Go with the flow.
Vescere bracis meis.
Eat my shorts.
Vidistine nuper imagines moventes bonas?
Seen any good movies lately?
mmckee1952
New member
As part of the strategy for the upcoming presidential debates, the Obama campaign is attempting to lower expectations. And believe, if there's one thing that President Obama is good at lately, it's lowering expectations.
mmckee1952
New member
Top Ten Things Only Women Understand
10. Why it's good to have five pairs of black shoes.
9. The difference between cream, ivory, and off white.
8. Crying can be fun.
7. Fat clothes.
6. A salad, diet drink, and a hot fudge sundae make a balanced lunch.
5. Discovering a designer dress on the clearance rack can be considered a peak life experience.
4. The inaccuracy of every bathroom scale ever made.
3. A good man might be hard to find, but a good hairdresser is next to impossible.
2. Why a phone call between two women never lasts under ten minutes.
1. Other women!
10. Why it's good to have five pairs of black shoes.
9. The difference between cream, ivory, and off white.
8. Crying can be fun.
7. Fat clothes.
6. A salad, diet drink, and a hot fudge sundae make a balanced lunch.
5. Discovering a designer dress on the clearance rack can be considered a peak life experience.
4. The inaccuracy of every bathroom scale ever made.
3. A good man might be hard to find, but a good hairdresser is next to impossible.
2. Why a phone call between two women never lasts under ten minutes.
1. Other women!
mmckee1952
New member
Women vs. Men
A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he wants. A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't want.
A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband. A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.
A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend. A successful woman is one who can find such a man.
To be happy with a man you must understand him a lot & love him a little. To be happy with a woman you must love her a lot & not try to understand her at all.
Married men live longer than single men, but married men are a lot more willing to die.
Any married man should forget his mistakes -- There's no use in two people remembering the same thing.
Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed. Women somehow deteriorate during the night.
A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn't. A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change & she does.
A woman has the last word in any argument. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.
There are 2 times when a man doesn't understand a woman: before marriage & after.
A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he wants. A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't want.
A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband. A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.
A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend. A successful woman is one who can find such a man.
To be happy with a man you must understand him a lot & love him a little. To be happy with a woman you must love her a lot & not try to understand her at all.
Married men live longer than single men, but married men are a lot more willing to die.
Any married man should forget his mistakes -- There's no use in two people remembering the same thing.
Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed. Women somehow deteriorate during the night.
A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn't. A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change & she does.
A woman has the last word in any argument. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.
There are 2 times when a man doesn't understand a woman: before marriage & after.
mmckee1952
New member
> The Rabbi is Leaving
>At the regular Saturday morning service, the rabbi announced that he was
> planning to leave for a larger congregation that would pay him more.
> There is a hush within the congregation. No one wants him to leave because he
> is so popular.
>Fred Shapiro, who owns several car dealerships in Newton and Brookline,
> stands up and proclaims, "If the rabbi stays, I will provide him with a
> new Cadillac every year and his wife with a Honda mini-van to transport
> their children!"
The congregation sighs in appreciation and applauds.
> Saul Cohen, a successful businessman and lawyer, stands and says, "If
> the rabbi will stay on here, I'll personally double his salary and establish
> him."
> More sighs and loud applause.
>Estelle Rubin, age 88, stands and announces with a smile, "If the rabbi
> stays, I will give him sex!"
> There is total silence.
> The rabbi, blushing, asks her: "Mrs. Rubin, you're a wonderful and holy
> lady. Whatever possessed you to say that?"
> Estelle's 90-year old husband, Abe, is now trying to hide, holding his
> forehead with the palm of his hand and shaking his head from side to
> side, while his wife replies:
>"Well, I just asked my husband how we could help, and he said, "*******
> Him
>At the regular Saturday morning service, the rabbi announced that he was
> planning to leave for a larger congregation that would pay him more.
> There is a hush within the congregation. No one wants him to leave because he
> is so popular.
>Fred Shapiro, who owns several car dealerships in Newton and Brookline,
> stands up and proclaims, "If the rabbi stays, I will provide him with a
> new Cadillac every year and his wife with a Honda mini-van to transport
> their children!"
The congregation sighs in appreciation and applauds.
> Saul Cohen, a successful businessman and lawyer, stands and says, "If
> the rabbi will stay on here, I'll personally double his salary and establish
> him."
> More sighs and loud applause.
>Estelle Rubin, age 88, stands and announces with a smile, "If the rabbi
> stays, I will give him sex!"
> There is total silence.
> The rabbi, blushing, asks her: "Mrs. Rubin, you're a wonderful and holy
> lady. Whatever possessed you to say that?"
> Estelle's 90-year old husband, Abe, is now trying to hide, holding his
> forehead with the palm of his hand and shaking his head from side to
> side, while his wife replies:
>"Well, I just asked my husband how we could help, and he said, "*******
> Him
Rhino
New member
Link Removed
Rhino
New member
In church, while reverently preparing for the service, a sweet little old lady was overheard quietly whispering a prayer. She said:
"Dear Lord, this has been a tough two or three years ...
You have taken my favorite actor Patrick Swayze, my favorite musician Michael Jackson, my favorite salesman Billy Mays, my favorite actress Elizabeth Taylor, my favorite singer Whitney Houston, and, now, my favorite announcer **** Clark. I just wanted you to know that my favorite politicians are Barack Obama and Joe Biden.
Amen."
"Dear Lord, this has been a tough two or three years ...
You have taken my favorite actor Patrick Swayze, my favorite musician Michael Jackson, my favorite salesman Billy Mays, my favorite actress Elizabeth Taylor, my favorite singer Whitney Houston, and, now, my favorite announcer **** Clark. I just wanted you to know that my favorite politicians are Barack Obama and Joe Biden.
Amen."
Rhino
New member
Neighborhood Hazard (Or: Why the Cops Won't Patrol Brice Street)
I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous!
Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too.
Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being “behind the power curve”. It is a mark of experience that when this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up.
Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle…at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to keep up with the machine.
I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways. Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a car that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there!
Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness…all within seconds. I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway.
I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that “edge” so frequently required when riding.
Little did I suspect…
As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it—it was that close.
I hate to run over animals…and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.
Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, “Banzai!” or maybe, “Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!” as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest.
Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street…and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing.
I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.
That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.
But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off squirrel.
This was an evil attack squirrel of death!
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!
The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.
I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.
The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in…well…I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street…on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.
With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody’s tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle…my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however.
The rpm’s on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop.
Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel’s tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.
Finally I got the upper hand…I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked…sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.
Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.
Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.
I heard screams. They weren't mine...
I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.
I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser.
So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to “let the professionals handle it” anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger…
That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car…
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood.
As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I’ll take my chances with the freeway. Every time.
And I’ll buy myself a new pair of gloves.
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
Neighborhood Hazard (Or: Why the Cops Won't Patrol Brice Street)
I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous!
Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too.
Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being “behind the power curve”. It is a mark of experience that when this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up.
Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle…at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to keep up with the machine.
I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways. Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a car that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there!
Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness…all within seconds. I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway.
I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that “edge” so frequently required when riding.
Little did I suspect…
As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it—it was that close.
I hate to run over animals…and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.
Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, “Banzai!” or maybe, “Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!” as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest.
Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street…and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing.
I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.
That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.
But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off squirrel.
This was an evil attack squirrel of death!
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!
The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.
I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.
The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in…well…I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street…on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.
With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody’s tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle…my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however.
The rpm’s on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop.
Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel’s tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.
Finally I got the upper hand…I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked…sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.
Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.
Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.
I heard screams. They weren't mine...
I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.
I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser.
So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to “let the professionals handle it” anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger…
That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car…
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood.
As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I’ll take my chances with the freeway. Every time.
And I’ll buy myself a new pair of gloves.
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
Neighborhood Hazard (Or: Why the Cops Won't Patrol Brice Street)
mmckee1952
New member
The Limo
The Pope was getting into his limo one night when he turned to the limo driver and said, "Before I die, I would love to drive this beautiful limo just once."
"Well, here," the limo driver says, "Take the wheel, Your Holiness!"
Further down the road, the limo is stopped by a policeman who looks in the window, goes back to his squad car, calls dispatch and says, "I just pulled over someone real important and I don't know what to do."
"Well, who is it?" his dispatcher says, "The mayor? The governor? The president?"
"I don't know," the officer responds, "but the Pope's his chauffer!"
The Pope was getting into his limo one night when he turned to the limo driver and said, "Before I die, I would love to drive this beautiful limo just once."
"Well, here," the limo driver says, "Take the wheel, Your Holiness!"
Further down the road, the limo is stopped by a policeman who looks in the window, goes back to his squad car, calls dispatch and says, "I just pulled over someone real important and I don't know what to do."
"Well, who is it?" his dispatcher says, "The mayor? The governor? The president?"
"I don't know," the officer responds, "but the Pope's his chauffer!"
mmckee1952
New member
Little Johnny's Numbers
The teacher asked little Johnny if he knows his numbers.
"Yes," he said. "My dad taught me."
"Good! Can you tell me what comes after three."
"Four," answers little Johnny.
"What comes after six?"
"Seven."
"Very good," says the teacher. "Your father did a good job. What comes after ten?"
"A jack," says little Johnny.
The teacher asked little Johnny if he knows his numbers.
"Yes," he said. "My dad taught me."
"Good! Can you tell me what comes after three."
"Four," answers little Johnny.
"What comes after six?"
"Seven."
"Very good," says the teacher. "Your father did a good job. What comes after ten?"
"A jack," says little Johnny.
mmckee1952
New member
When the president of Iran was in New York for the UN meeting he said he was going to meet with artisans, intellectuals and elites, or as they say call them in Iran, Political Prisoners.
Also:
Researchers in South Korea have discovered why men have a shorted life span than women, they found that the male sex hormones shortens a man’s life, which comes to a surprise to a lot of guy’s, how many guy’s thought it was women’s sex hormones that shortened their life.
Jay Leno
Also:
Researchers in South Korea have discovered why men have a shorted life span than women, they found that the male sex hormones shortens a man’s life, which comes to a surprise to a lot of guy’s, how many guy’s thought it was women’s sex hormones that shortened their life.
Jay Leno
Rhino
New member
Fishing with Bubba
There was this country redneck, "Bubba," who called in sick so he could go fish all day. By sunset, he had used up all his bait and had nothing to show for it.
As he started cranking his boat onto the trailer, in comes a guy with more fish in his boat than he had ice for. Bubba said to the guy, "You've had good luck today and I ain't caught nothing, do you care telling
me what you used for bait?" "Not at all," he said, "I'm a surgeon and I remove lots of tonsils in my practice and they make wonderful bait." Bubba said, "Oh, thanks."
Bubba got in his 4x4 and pulled the rig onto the parking lot when he noticed another fisherman docking with his fish stringers running over the sides of his boat. Bubba ran down and told the fellow of his bad
luck but had to ask him what he used for bait. "Well, I'm a physician and I perform many appendectomies a year and have learned that an appendix makes a great bait." "Oh, thanks," Bubba said.
So driving away empty handed he couldn't help but see a commotion down on the bank where yet a third fellow was docking with his boat full of fish and had a second boat tied to his and it too had fish piled two
feet deep. Sure enough, Bubba couldn't help it. He stopped and got out of the truck and approached the guy saying something like, "I shore would love to know what you used for bait but I reckin' you are a doctor
like them other two who caught so many."
The guy looked up from admiring his catch and said, "No, I'm a Rabbi!!"
There was this country redneck, "Bubba," who called in sick so he could go fish all day. By sunset, he had used up all his bait and had nothing to show for it.
As he started cranking his boat onto the trailer, in comes a guy with more fish in his boat than he had ice for. Bubba said to the guy, "You've had good luck today and I ain't caught nothing, do you care telling
me what you used for bait?" "Not at all," he said, "I'm a surgeon and I remove lots of tonsils in my practice and they make wonderful bait." Bubba said, "Oh, thanks."
Bubba got in his 4x4 and pulled the rig onto the parking lot when he noticed another fisherman docking with his fish stringers running over the sides of his boat. Bubba ran down and told the fellow of his bad
luck but had to ask him what he used for bait. "Well, I'm a physician and I perform many appendectomies a year and have learned that an appendix makes a great bait." "Oh, thanks," Bubba said.
So driving away empty handed he couldn't help but see a commotion down on the bank where yet a third fellow was docking with his boat full of fish and had a second boat tied to his and it too had fish piled two
feet deep. Sure enough, Bubba couldn't help it. He stopped and got out of the truck and approached the guy saying something like, "I shore would love to know what you used for bait but I reckin' you are a doctor
like them other two who caught so many."
The guy looked up from admiring his catch and said, "No, I'm a Rabbi!!"
TheCocaColaSanta
Pistol Packing Santa
I heard a funny story the other day about a guy who went into a stall in a public restroom who was concerned that someone in the adjoining stall might see his 45 semi auto when he dropped his trousers. So he took it out of the holster and hung it on the coat hook on the back of the stall door. When he had finished his business and had just fastened his belt and holster in place, he reached for his gun. But as he was attempting to retrieve it from it from the hook, it bumped the trigger which caused it to discharge. (Apparently he didn't have the safety on.) And as he didn't have a good grip on it, the guns recoil caused it to bounce up and down repeatedly until it had completely emptied the magazine in the ceiling. It's probably a good thing it happened as he was taking the gun off the hook, because if it had had happened before when he was hanging it up, he'd have probably have ruined his pants right then and there.
mmckee1952
New member
Women in Saudi Arabia, and in other Middle Eastern countries are now permitted to drive for the first time...
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mmckee1952
New member
One Wish
A woman was walking along the beach when she stumbled upon an unusual old lamp. She picked it up and cleaned it off, and suddenly a Genie appeared. The amazed woman asked if she was going to receive the usual three wishes.
The Genie said, "Nope...due to inflation, constant downsizing, low wages in third-world countries, and fierce global competition, I can only grant you one wish. So...what'll it be?"
The woman didn't hesitate. She said, "I want peace in the Middle East. See this map? I want these countries to stop fighting with each other."
The Genie looked at the map and exclaimed, "Gadzooks, lady! These countries have been at war for thousands of years. I'm good, but not THAT good! I don't think it can be done. Make another wish."
The woman thought for a minute and said, "Well, I've never been able to find the right man. You know, one that's considerate and fun, likes to cook and helps with the housecleaning, is good in bed and gets along with my family, doesn't watch sports all the time, and is faithful. That's what I wish for...a good mate."
The Genie let out a long sigh and said, "Let me see that map!"
A woman was walking along the beach when she stumbled upon an unusual old lamp. She picked it up and cleaned it off, and suddenly a Genie appeared. The amazed woman asked if she was going to receive the usual three wishes.
The Genie said, "Nope...due to inflation, constant downsizing, low wages in third-world countries, and fierce global competition, I can only grant you one wish. So...what'll it be?"
The woman didn't hesitate. She said, "I want peace in the Middle East. See this map? I want these countries to stop fighting with each other."
The Genie looked at the map and exclaimed, "Gadzooks, lady! These countries have been at war for thousands of years. I'm good, but not THAT good! I don't think it can be done. Make another wish."
The woman thought for a minute and said, "Well, I've never been able to find the right man. You know, one that's considerate and fun, likes to cook and helps with the housecleaning, is good in bed and gets along with my family, doesn't watch sports all the time, and is faithful. That's what I wish for...a good mate."
The Genie let out a long sigh and said, "Let me see that map!"
mmckee1952
New member
Ventriloquist
>
> A young ventriloquist is touring Sweden and, one night, he's doing a show
> in a small fishing town. With his dummy on his knee, he starts going
> through his usual dumb blonde jokes.
>
> Suddenly, a blonde woman in the fourth row stands on her chair and starts
> shouting, "I've heard enough of your stupid blonde jokes. What makes you
> think you can stereotype Swedish blond women that way? What does the
> colour of a woman's hair have to do with her worth as a human being? It's
> men like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in
> the community, and from reaching our full potential as people. Its people
> like you that make others think that all blondes are dumb! You and your
> kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against, not only blondes, but
> women in general... pathetically, all in the name of humour!"
>
> The embarrassed ventriloquist begins to apologize, and the blonde yells:
>
> "You stay out of this! I'm talking to that little **** on your lap!"
>
> A young ventriloquist is touring Sweden and, one night, he's doing a show
> in a small fishing town. With his dummy on his knee, he starts going
> through his usual dumb blonde jokes.
>
> Suddenly, a blonde woman in the fourth row stands on her chair and starts
> shouting, "I've heard enough of your stupid blonde jokes. What makes you
> think you can stereotype Swedish blond women that way? What does the
> colour of a woman's hair have to do with her worth as a human being? It's
> men like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in
> the community, and from reaching our full potential as people. Its people
> like you that make others think that all blondes are dumb! You and your
> kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against, not only blondes, but
> women in general... pathetically, all in the name of humour!"
>
> The embarrassed ventriloquist begins to apologize, and the blonde yells:
>
> "You stay out of this! I'm talking to that little **** on your lap!"
mmckee1952
New member
Dear do you have the rolls of quarters I put in your purse?
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