HOME¤ËÌá¤ë

CHAIN E-MAILS


They Bring a SMILE TO YOUR FACE!
(¡ùis my personal ranking)

Married Sex
Merry Christmas!
Call me...
THERAPY MANAMI STYLE ¡ù¡ù¡ù¡ù¡ù
PENIS ¡ù¡ù¡ù¡ù
LABLES ¡ù¡ù¡ù
ODE TO BOYS ¡ù¡ù¡ù¡ù
(I advise you not to read it if you're happy with your BF!)

JOHNNY¡ù¡ù


Married Sex

Married sex.
>TO MY DEAR WIFE:
>
>During the past year I have tried to make love to
>you 365 times.
>
>I have succeeded 36 times, which is an average of
>once every ten days.
>
>The following is a list of why I did not succeed
>more often:
>
>54 times the sheets were clean
>17 times it was too late
>49 times you were too tired
>20 times it was too hot
>15 times you pretended to be sleep
>22 times you had a headache
>17 times you were afraid of waking the baby
>16 times you said you were too sore
>12 times it was the wrong time of the month
>19 times you had to get up early
>9 times you said weren't in the mood
>7 times you were sunburned
>6 times you were watching the late show
>5 times you didn't want to mess up your new hairdo
>3 times you said the neighbors would hear us
>9 times you said your mother would hear us
>
>Of the 36 times I did succeed, the activity was not
>satisfactory because:
>
>6 times you just laid there
>8 times you reminded me there's a crack in the
>ceiling
>4 times you told me to hurry up and get it over with
>7 times I had to wake you and tell you I finished
>1 time I was afraid I had hurt you because I felt
>you move
>
>KEEP READING.......
>
>
>==========================================================
>
>TO MY DEAR HUSBAND:
>
>I think you have things a little confused.
>Here are the reasons you didn't
>get more than you did:
>
>5 times you came home drunk and tried to screw the cat
>
>36 times you did not come home at all
>
>
>21 times you didn't cum
>
>33 times you came too soon
>
>19 times you went soft before you got in
>
>38 times you worked too late
>
>10 times you got cramps in your toes
>
>29 times you had to get up early to play golf
>
>2 times you were in a fight and someone
>kicked you in the balls
>
>4 times you got it stuck in your zipper
>
>3 times you had a cold and your nose was running
>
>2 times you had a splinter in your finger
>
>20 times you lost the notion after thinking
>about it all day
>
>6 times you came in your pajamas while
>reading a dirty book
>
>98 times you were too busy watching football,
>baseball, etc. on TV
>
>Of the times we did get together:
>
>The reason I laid still was because you missed
>and were screwing the sheets.
>
>I wasn't talking about the crack in the ceiling,
>what I said was,
>"Would you prefer me on my back or kneeling?"
>
>The time you felt me move was because
>you farted and I was trying to breathe.
>
>Seriously think about this before you make those vows. It's pretty close to
>the truth.
>

Merry Christmas!¡ÁSanta's Job¡Á

As a result of an overwhelming lack of requests, and with research help from that renowned scientific journal SPY magazine (January, 1990) - I am pleased to present the annual scientific inquiry into Santa Claus.

No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer which only Santa has ever seen.

There are approximately two billion children (persons under 18) in the world. However, since Santa does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or Buddhist (except maybe in Japan) religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million (according to the population reference bureau).

At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that comes to 108 million homes, presuming there is at least one good child in each. Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 967.7 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has around 1/1000 th of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stocking, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh and get onto the next house.

Assuming that each of these 108 million stops is evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are now talking about 0.78 miles per household; a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks. This means Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second--3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer can run (at best) 15 miles per hour.

The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium sized LEGO set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousand tons, not counting Santa himself.

On land, a conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that the "flying" reindeer can pull 10 times the normal amount, the job can't be done with eight or even nine of them---Santa would need 360,000 of them. This increases the payload, not counting the weight of the sleigh, another 54,000 tons, or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch).

A mass of nearly 600,000 tons travelling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance - this would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer would adsorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each. In short, they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake.

The entire reindeer team would be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second, or right about the time Santa reached the fifth house on his trip. Not that it matters, however, since Santa, as a result of accelerating from a dead stop to 650 m.p.s. in .001 seconds, would be subjected to acceleration forces of 17,000 g's. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim considering all the high calorie snacks he must have consumed over the years) would be pinned to the back of the sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, instantly crushing his bones and organs and reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo. Therefore, if Santa did exist........he's dead now!!


Merry Christmas


Call me...

If one day you feel like crying...
Call me...
I don't promise you that...
I will make you laugh
But I can cry with you

If one day you want to run away
Don¡Çt be afraid to call me.
I don¡Çt promise to ask you to stop,
But I can run with you.

If one day you don¡Çt want to listen to anybody;
Call me and¡Ä
I promise to be very quiet.

But¡Ä
If one day you call and there is no answer¡Ä

Come fast to see me¡Ä
Perhaps I need you¡Ä

THERAPY MANAMI STYLE

HA HA this is damn funny. Well, in my kind of humor, that is. It sounds like some real kickass therapy. I guess I'll have to try it out sometime..... I hope he doesn't mind too much! ....heh heh *wink*

For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need to take it out on someone!!! Don't take that bad day out on someone you know, take it out on someone you DON'T know!!!

Now get this. I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Patrick Hanifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?" Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me!

I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. She had transposed the last two digits incorrectly. After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to call it again.

When the same person once more answered, I yelled, "You're a jackass!" and hung up.
Next to his phone number I wrote the word "jackass," and put it in my desk drawer.
Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad day, I'd call him up.
He'd answer, and then I'd yell, "You're a jackass!"
It would always cheer me up.

Later in the year the phone company introduced caller ID.
This was a real disappointment for me, I would have to stop calling the jackass.
Then one day I had an idea.
I dialed his number, then heard his voice, "Hello."
I made up a name.
"Hi. This is the sales office of the telephone company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?"
He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down.
I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're a jackass!"

The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 823-4863.
[Keep reading, it gets better.]

The old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking space. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out.

Great, I thought, she's finally leaving.
All of a sudden this black Camaro come flying up the parking isle in the wrong direction and pulls into her space.
I started honking my horn and yelling, "You can't just do that, Buddy. I was here first!"
The guy climbed out of his Camaro completely ignoring me.
He walked toward the mall as if he didn't even hear me.
I thought to myself, this guy's a jackass, there sure a lot of jackasses in this world.

I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car.
I wrote down the number.
Then I hunted for another place to park.
A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk.
I had just gotten off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, "You're a jackass!" (It's really easy to call him now since I have his number on speed dial.)
I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black Camaro lying on my desk and thought I'd better call this guy, too.

After a couple rings someone answered the phone and said, "Hello."
I said, "Is this the man with the black Camaro for sale?"
"Yes, it is."
"Can you tell me where I can see it?"
"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th street.
It's a yellow house and the car's parked right out front."
I said, "What's your name?"
"My name is Don Hansen."
"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
"I'm home in the evenings."
"Listen Don, can I tell you something?"
"Yes,"
"Don, you're a jackass!"
And I slammed the phone down.

After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer.
For a while things seemed to be going better for me.
Now when I had a problem I had two jackasses to call. Then after several months of calling the jackasses and hanging up on them, it just wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be.
I gave the problem some serious thought and came up with a solution.

First, I had my phone dial Jackass #1.
A man answered nicely saying "Hello."
I yelled "You're a jackass!", but I didn't hang up.
The jackass said, "Are you still there?"
I said, "Yeah."
He said, "Stop calling me."
I said, "No."
He said, "What's your name, Pal?"
I said, "Don Hansen."
He said, "Where do you live?"
"1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black Camaro's parked out front."
"I'm coming over right now, Don.
You'd better start saying your prayers."
"Yeah, like I'm really scared, Jackass!" and I hung up.

Then I called Jackass #2.
He answered, "Hello."
I said, "Hello, Jackass!"
He said, "If I ever find out who you are..."
"You'll what?"
"I'll kick your butt."
"Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now Jackass!"
And I hung up.

Then I picked up the phone and called the police.
I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as he got home.
Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down W. 34th Street.
After that I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing. Glorious!

If you want to watch two Jackasses kicking the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars and a police helicopter, I taped it off the evening news.


PENIS

Ladies, no offence!

Request for a raise by a penis.

I, the penis, hereby request a raise in salary for the following reasons:
I do physical labor
I work at great depths
I plunge head first into everything I do
I do not get weekends off or public holidays
I work in a damp environment
I don't get paid overtime
I work in a dark workplace that has poor ventilation
I work in high temperatures
My work exposes me to contagious diseases

Dear Penis,

After assessing your request, and considering the arguments you have raised, the administration rejects your request for the following reasons:

You do not work 8 hours straight
You fall asleep on the job after brief work periods
You do not always follow the orders of the management team
You do not stay in your allocated position, and often visit other areas
You do not take initiative - you need to be pressured and stimulated in order to start working
You leave the workplace rather messy at the end of your shift
You don't always observe necessary safety regulations, such as wearing the correct protective clothing
You'll retire well before reaching 65
You're unable to work double shifts
You sometimes leave your allocated position before you have completed the day's work
And if that were not all, you have been seen constantly entering and leaving the workplace carrying 2 suspicious looking bags.

Sincerely, The Management


LABELS

heehee... kinda makes ya wonder.... =)

Actual label instructions on consumer goods:

On Sears hairdryer: Do not use while sleeping.
(Gee, that's the only time I have to work on my hair!)

On a bag of Fritos: You could be a winner! No purchase necessary. Details inside.
(The shoplifter special!)

On a bar of Dial soap: Directions: Use like regular soap.
(and that would be how?)

On some Swann frozen dinners: Serving suggestion: Defrost.
(But it's *just* a suggestion!)

On a hotel provided shower cap in a box: Fits one head.
(The big one or the little one?)

On Tesco's Tiramisu dessert: (printed on bottom of the box) Do not turn upside down.
(Too late! You lose!)

On Marks & Spencer Bread Pudding: Product will be hot after heating.
(Are you sure??? Let's experiment.)


On packaging for a Rowenta iron: Do not iron clothes on body.
(But wouldn't that save more time?) (Whose body?)

On Boot's Children's cough medicine: Do not drive car or operate machinery.
(We could do a lot to reduce the rate of construction accidents if we just kept those 5-year-olds off those forklifts.)

On Nytol sleep aid: Warning: may cause drowsiness.
(One would hope!)

On a Korean kitchen knife: Warning keep out of children.
(Or pets! What's for dinner?)

On a string of Chinese-made Christmas lights: For indoor or outdoor use only.
(As opposed to use in outer space.)


On a Japanese food processor: Not to be used for the other use.
(Now I'm curious.)

On Sainsbury's peanuts: Warning: contains nuts.
(But no peas?)

On an American Airlines packet of nuts: Instructions: open packet, eat nuts.
(Have a lobotomy)


On a child's Superman costume: Wearing of this garment does not enable you to fly.
(That's right, destroy a universal childhood fantasy!)

ODE TO BOYS

We like them, but do they like us?
The ones we do never fuss
They never stop in and we wonder why
We stress, we bitch, we sometimes cry.
"Guys are assholes!" we always say
Yet their stupid games we always play
One day this, one day that.
So we turn to food which makes us fat.
Then they complain we're putting on weight
Defining to us why we never date.
They're the reason, those stupid fucks,
Making us believe college life sucks.
SCREW THEM ALL, LET'S GRAB A BEER!
We've got our friends, they're all here.
Cheers to the girls, fuck the guys.
We're sick of their shit and stupid ass lies.
We don't need them, no not us..
Good for a scam, but never to trust.
So here's what to do:
Together we stand.
We'll party it up with beers in each hand.
Alone in our beds of course it might end,
But we don't get dumped and we still have our
FRIENDS!!



JOHNNY

Johnny was causing problems for his first grade teacher. "I'm too smart for the first grade. My sister is in the third grade and I'm smarter than she is! I think I should be in the third grade too!"

The teacher had had enough.
She took Johnny to the principal's office.
While Johnny waited in the outer office, the teacher explained to the principal what the situation was.
The principal told the teacher he would give the boy a test and if he failed to answer any of his questions he was to go back to the first grade and behave.
The teacher agreed.
Johnny was brought in and the conditions were explained to him and he agreed to take the test.

Principal: "What is 3 x 3?"
Johnny: "9".
Principal: "What is 6 x 6?"
Johnny: "36".
And so it went with every question the principal thought a third grader should know.
The principal looks at the teacher and tells her, "I think Johnny can go to the third grade."
The teacher says to the principal, "Let me ask him some questions?"
The principal and Johnny both agree.
The teacher asks, "What does a cow have four of that I have only twoof?"
Johnny, after a moment, "Legs."
Teacher: "What is in your pants that you have but I do not have?"
The principal's eyes open really wide and before he could stop the answer, Johnny replied, "pockets."
Teacher: "What does a dog do that a man steps into?"
Johnny: "Pants"
Teacher: "What word starts with an 'F' and ends in 'K' that means a lot of excitement?"Johnny: "Firetruck"
The principal breathed a sigh of relief and told the teacher, "Put Johnny in the fifth grade, I missed the last four questions myself."


HOME¤ËÌá¤ë