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Möte FUNNY, 4886 texter
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Text 683, 229 rader
Skriven 2004-12-09 04:16:20 av Greg Sears (1:153/307)
     Kommentar till en text av George Pope
Ärende: Re: SEX
===============
Funny on 07-Dec-2004 11:51

 GS>  GP> If she's fucking for cash, she's a WHORE, regardless of whose
   >    > friend she might be!
   >
   >   G-day George Pope,
   >   Wrong............. she is your sisters best friend getting cash from
   >                      her George!

    -=[George Pope wrote IN a message to GREG SEARS]=-

 GP> a) So who's getting the cash?
   > b) Who's doing the fucking?
   > And does a=b?
   > If so, then a=c AND b=c AND
   > c= she's a WHORE!!!

  G-day George Pope, now it makes sense & dollars eh! '-)


 GS>  GP> No worries -- prostitution is legal here in BC, too!
   > G-deal George Pope, the long plane ride isn't required! ;-) More $$ for
   >                                                             local SEX!

       George Pope, continues saying.. .. ..

 GP> Yup, Plus I gotta save up for a service call on my freezer, and I
   > understand that those can be quite expensive!

   Tell you what Mate "the I C E-man will repair your freezer F R E E!!

 GP> Funniness abounds in FUNNY!!! (hmm -- wonder why!)

   Well you'll be on the hook for the travel & some expenses eh! '-)


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

  George advertised in a newspaper for a second hand LADA.  The day
after a woman telephoned:

  W:  Did you advertise for a second hand LADA ?
  G:  Yes.
  W:  I happen to have I brand new Jaguar and I think
      you'll like it.
  G:  That's much to expensive for me thank you.
  W:  It's not expensive at all, I'll drop over and show you.

 10 minutes later a brand new Jaguar appeared outside George's house.

  G:  Its  much to expensive. I can only afford second hand
      LADA or something like that.
  W:  How much can you pay ?
  G:  50 dollars (or whatever the value of second hand LADA).
  W:  OK, I accept.
  G:  What, Isn't the car OK ?
  W:  Yes it's OK, it's brand new.
  G:  But it must be worth 200 or 300 times more.
  W:  Well do you want it or not ?

 After few minuets of scratching and poking George accepted. Wrote the
woman a cheque of 50 dollars.

  G:  Please tell me, why do you want to sell it so cheap ?
  W:  Well, my husband went to Spain last week and he sent
      me a telegraph this morning to tell me that he had
      found him self a new woman.  He also said that I could
      keep the house, but I should sell the car and send him
      the money ...


> OBJoke: for Mr. <+]::-{(} ("Cyberpope")

                   THE TRAGIC TALE OF OLD MacDONALD'S FARM

                               A Personnel Saga
                          by A. Mouse, Non-E (1 ea.)
                          (as told to L. D. Manning)

  Once upon a time a <large university> Personnel Officer retired and,
with the University's moderate pension plan, bought a Farm and moved his
Family (Wife, household duties preferred, and Daughter, in-progress
Education preferred) to the country to taste rural life.  Old MacDonald
(for that was his name) promptly bought livestock, labelled them
appropriately according to their Job Descriptions, and recorded them all
in a notebook, listing Job Title, Job Description, Estimated Annual
Salary (Base, Full-time rate, nearest whole dollar amount), and
preferred Job Qualifications.

  In addition, Old MacDonald planted crops, all appropriately labelled,
(Celery, green, average stalk length 12", annual), and settled down to
enjoy his retirement.

  One day a young man visited the Farm and introduced himself as the
County Agent (Agent, Agricultural products, governmental).  Old
MacDonald gladly showed the young man around the Farm, displaying his
handiwork.  "This is my Annual Celery," he proudly announced, as they
approached the garden.

  "Annual Celery?"  the young man muttered.

  "Yes, and this is my Bovine Animal; four-legged, tan-and-white
spotted, preferred."

  "But that's a Guernsey milk cow!" The young man obviously seemed
distressed about something, but Old MacDonald couldn't understand what
it could be.

  "And this is my Cow; large size, hump and brown color preferred."

  The young man had turned a peculiar color, but all he said was, "A
Brahma bull! I wonder how he got the sign around his neck."

  The young man also seemed peculiarly distressed upon seeing that the
Rooster was penned alone, with his beak taped shut, even after Old
MacDonald explained that he had had to resort to these measures because
the Rooster had been putting in unauthorized overtime in the hen house,
and crowing at dawn.  He simply WOULD NOT keep the required 8 to 5 hours
(lunch from 12 noon to 1 P.M. only).

  The tour of the farm was soon over. Old MacDonald did not understand
the young man's attitude.  His records were immaculate.  Every animal
exactly fit its Job Description, and each one was correctly Titled and
Labelled with a neat sign hung around its neck.

  Soon afterwards, Old MacDonald decided that now that the Farm records
were in order, he should do the same to the personnel in his household.
He, of course, was Personnel Officer.  His wife, however, had been doing
many different chores which were not in her Job Description.  This, of
course, would NOT DO.  He promptly notified her that she would
henceforth be Procurement Officer and would be in charge of buying and
selling all items on the farm.  Since his Wife was not thrilled at the
added duties in her already busy schedule, Old MacDonald promised that
she could keep all monies made on butter and eggs.

  That very afternoon a young man came to the farm asking to buy a milk
cow. He had talked to the County Agent and had learned that Old
MacDonald had one.  His wife had just had twin girls and they needed the
milk badly. Old MacDonald assured him that he had no Milk Cow.  He had a
Cow, a Bovine Animal, and a Calf, but no Milk Cow.  This young man
turned a peculiar color also.  (What were young men coming to these
days?)  "But that IS a milk cow!"  The young man pointed to the Bovine
Animal.

  "Oh, no.  That is a Bovine Animal. The fact that she gives milk is
immaterial. She was hired as a Bovine Animal.  She has had no Experience
at being a Milk Cow."

  "Well, I'll buy her anyway.  I need the milk.  How much do you want
for her?"

  "Oh, I couldn't let this poor creature apply for the Job Title of Milk
Cow.  As I have said, she has had not Experience in the field.  She
could, of course, be Reclassified, but that will take some time."

  "What do I have to do to have her reclassified?"  The young man was
not taking this at all well.  He looked ill.

  "Well, you would have to submit a request in quintuplicate to the
Personnel Officer (that's me), then fill out a questionnaire listing (1)
why the current Job Title does not currently suit the duties of the Job
Holder, (2) why the needs of the Employer have changed with respect to
the said Job Title, (3) why this Job Holder was not hired at the new Job
Title in the original request when s/he was originally hired, and
(4) what qualifications and/or Experience qualify this candidate for the
new Job Title. Then I will, of course, review your case, and objectively
come to a decision.  I am, of course, an Equal Opportunity Employer, and
belong to EIEIO -- the Equality In Employment for Interstate
Opportunities Commission."

  "How long will that take?"

  "Oh, about three weeks.  Of course, I am rather busy right now --
harvest time coming up and all (all those new plants to Title and
Label!) -- so it could take longer than that."

  The young man gave up and bought a milk cow (generic, no Job Title)
from Farmer Jones next door.

  That evening, Old MacDonald happily returned home to the Procurement
Officer and his Daughter, secure in the knowledge that all of his
Farmyard Staff and his Family were appropriately Titled and Labelled.
He was somewhat surprised to note upon his return, however, that the
house was a mess and there was no dinner waiting for him when he
arrived.

  "Wife," he complained.  "Why are you not performing your Wifely
duties? I am hungry, and for the first time in 32 years, this house is
a mess. What is wrong with you?  Are you ill?"

  "I see that you are looking in my direction when you ask these
questions, but I am the Procurement Officer, not a Wife," replied his
(former) Wife. "My Job Description does not include household duties."

  "Hmmm.  That is true."  Old MacDonald had not planned on this problem.
"Well, I will simply give you back your old Title as well."

  "Oh, no."  The Procurement Officer was adamant.  "Only one Job Title
per employee."

  Yes, of course.  How could he have forgotten after so many years?

  "Well, then, I will give you back your old Title and do the Purchasing
and Vouchering myself."

  "Oh, no.  I make more money as a Procurement Officer than I did as a
Wife. That would be a Demotion (A Very Serious Matter).  Besides, I am
not allowed to change Job Titles within the Farm for six months after I
have once changed Job Titles.  No.  I am Procurement Officer, and that
is that."

  Old MacDonald couldn't argue with that logic, so he fixed himself an
Old MacDonald's hamburger and went to bed.
                                       



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