Text 2450, 143 rader
Skriven 2005-09-05 07:34:58 av Greg Sears (3:633/104)
     Kommentar till en text av George Pope
Ärende: Re: Fortunately?
========================
               George Pope was saying F unny stuff to  all  

 GP>         Fortunately, a friend offered my wife a ride in his airplane.

SWEDES TURN TO BODY HEAT TO WARM THEIR HOMES

Swedish researchers have gone back to basics in their efforts to heat
homes during the long, cold winters -- by relying on body heat.  A
Swedish building research group plans to build houses which are so
insulated from the elements that heat generated by human occupants will
be enough to heat the structures, Swedish newspaper Svenska Dagbladet
said Thursday.  Around 40 semi-detached houses without central heating
but with insulation five times more efficient than usual will be built
in 1999 in the Swedish cities of Gothenburg and Malmo.  If successful,
the scheme will be extended to Hanover, Germany.


> OBjoke: for our Moderator and all-round friend/servant

YES ... OH, YES!!

Stockholm, Sweden -- Hoping to get young voters to say "yes ... oh,
YES!" to their party, the youth wing of the governing Social Democrats
sent out a video showing a passionate couple in bed.

But some recipients are saying "No, oh, no."

"I was really alarmed and at first thought that someone had filmed a pal
of mine in bed," Therese Tagesson, 21, was quoted as saying Wednesday by
the newspaper Expressen.

The video was sent with no return address to about 120,000 Swedes who
have their first chance to vote in a national election Sept. 20.

It shows a couple in bed and young people talking about their "first
time."  Then Mona Sahlin, a top party figure, discusses first-time
voting.

The video presents politics "with a glint in the eye," youth-wing
chairman Niklas Nordstroem told the Swedish news agency TT.

"Those who consider it pornographic must have awfully drab lives," he
said.


> OBjoke: <+]::-{(} ("Cyberpope")

AT THE CAR WASH
By P.S. Wall (Off the Wall), December 5, 1999

"He looked at her ...," I say breathily.

"She looked at him ...," Max growls.

"And those chamois strips started shakin' ...," Leila says, doing a
little shimmy.

Last night on "Ally McBeal," Ally did it with a total stranger at a car
wash.

"Eeeeee!" we squeal like a bunch of schoolgirls.  You can smear on Retin-
A 'til the cows come home, but nothing turns back time like basking in
the glory of someone else's sex life.

Dropping a Corningware bowl of nuked Snickers in the middle of the table,
Max passes out the spoons.  No doubt the Snickers are left over from
Halloween -- it's the year that's in question.

"I've always dreamed of doing it in a car wash," Leila says, "... and an
elevator ... and a corn silo ..."

Underneath the style and sophistication, Leila's just a country girl at
heart.

Scrutinizing the crud on her spoon, Rosie carefully slides it out of
harm's way and wipes her hands on her pressed chinos.  "What was the man
doing at the car wash?" she asks.

"I think he works there," Max says as she dumps a pint of Haagen-Dazs on
the Snickers and tops the whole mess with whipped cream.  It's like
watching an artist at work.  Max is the Picasso of junk food.

Rosie stares at us in disbelief.

"Ally did it with a man who works at a car wash?" she asks incredulously.

Judging by the look on Rosie's face, you'd think the guy made a living
manufacturing fur toilet seats.

"I think he's the manager," Max says, sprinkling on the nuts.  Mouths
full, Leila and I confirm this with a nod.

Somewhat pacified, Rosie pours herself a cup of hot water.

"How much do you suppose a car wash manager makes?" she ponders as she
bobs an herbal tea bag up and down in her cup.

Tossing a cherry into her mouth, Max gives this some thought.

"Well," she says, rolling the stem from one side of her mouth to the
other, "if it's a high-volume car wash, and he has an employee stock
option plan
..."

I don't believe this.  We can't even fantasize about a fictional
television character without analyzing the long-term financial
ramifications.

"We're pathetic!" I huff with disdain.  "Back in the old days, we'd be
talking about what we did last night."

Shamed silence falls over the room.

"Ladies," I say solemnly, "instead of just talking about it, I say we
just do it -- at the car wash."

"At the car wash!!" Leila and Max thunder, stomping the floor and
pounding their spoons on the table.

Smugly stirring her tea, Rosie stares at us like the Grinch who stole
Christmas.  No one can ruin the mood like Rosie.  The woman's like
nonsurgical neutering.

"I have one little word for you," she says, tinging her spoon dry.
"Husbands."

That pretty much takes the shimmy out of our chamois.  After years in
captivity, the only way our boys would roar at the car wash is if the
brushes scratched the paint.

Copyright 1999 P.S. Wall.  All rights reserved.


Cheers,
       __o          o__      o__      o__      o__     There's one
     _ \<,_        _.>/ _   _.>/ _   _.>/ _   _.>/ _   in every
    (@)/ (@)      (@) \(@) (@) \(@) (@) \(@) (@) \(@)  crowd....
...I C E-man.

... George, better find your aim in life before you run out of ammunition!

--- EzyBlueWave V2.01b006 00F90257
 * Origin: Afraid of the competition? We ARE the Competition! (3:633/104)