A customer service rep, a sales rep and a vice president of a business software firm in a large city are walking through a park on their way to
lunch when they find an antique oil lamp. They rub it and a Genie comes out in a puff of smoke.
The Genie says, "I usually only grant three wishes, so I'll give each of you just one."
"Me first! Me first!" says the customer service rep. "I want to be in the Bahamas, driving a speedboat, without a care in the world." Poof! She's gone.
In astonishment, "Me next! Me next!" says the sales rep. "I want to be in Hawaii, relaxing on the beach with my personal masseuse, an endless supply of pina coladas and the love of my life." Poof! He's gone.
"You're next," the Genie says to the vice president.
The vice president says, "I want those two back in the office after lunch."
Moral of story: Always Let your Boss have the first say.
Hát ezeket itt ilyen csúf szürke "reggelen" nincs kedvem végigolvasni.. :o) Viszont itt egy rövidke és frappáns.Milyen szép is az angol nyelv..
> - Hello, are you there?
> > - Yes, who are you please?
> > - I'm Watt.
> > - What's your name?
> > - Watt's my name.
> > - Yes, what's your name?
> > - My name is John Watt.
> > - John what?
> > - Yes, are you Jones?
> > - No I'm Knott.
> > - Will you tell me your name then?
> > - Will Knott.
> > - Why not?
> > - My name is Knott.
> > - Not what?
> > - Not Watt, Knott.
> > - What?
> A prisoner escapes from his prison where he had been kept for 15
> years.
> As he runs away, he finds a house and breaks into it. He finds a
> young couple in bed.
> He gets the guy out of bed, ties him up on a chair,ties up the woman
> to the bed and while he gets on top of her, he kisses her on the neck,
> then gets up, and goes to the bathroom.
> While he is there, the husband tells his wife: "Listen, this guy is
> a prisoner, look at his clothes! He probably spent a lot of time in
> prison,and has not seen a woman in years. If he wants sex,don't
> resist, don't complain, just do what he tells you, give him satisfaction.
> This guy must be dangerous, if he gets angry, he will kill us. Be
> strong,honey.
> I love you" To which the wife responds, "I am glad you think that way.
> Sure, he
> has not seen a woman in years, but he was not kissing my neck. He was
> whispering in my ear. He told me that he found you very sexy, and
> asked if we kept any Vaseline in the bathroom. Be strong, honey. I love
> you
> too..."
A man who had been called to testify at the Internal Revenue Service asked his accountant for advice on what to wear. "Wear your shabbiest clothing. Let him think you are a pauper," the accountant replied.
Then he asked his lawyer the same question, but got the opposite advice. "Dont let them intimidate you. Wear your most elegant suit and tie."
Confused, the man went to his priest, told him of the conflicting advice, and requested some resolution on the dilemma. "Let me tell you a story," replied the priest. "A woman, about to be married, asked her mother what to wear on her wedding night. Wear a heavy, long, flannel nightgown that goes right up to your neck. But when she asked her best friend, she got conflicting advice. Wear your most sexy negligee, with a V-neck right down to your navel. "
Confused, the man asked, "What does all this have to do with my problem with the IRS?"
"Simple," replied the Priest. "It doesnt matter what you wear, youre going to get screwed."
John invited his mother over for dinner. During the meal his mother couldn't help noticing how beautiful John's roommate was. She had long been
suspicious of a relationship between John and his roommate and this only made her more curious. Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between John and the roommate than met the eye.
Reading his mom's thoughts, John volunteered, "I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you, Julie and I are just roommates."
About a week later, Julie came to John and said, "Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find the beautiful gravy ladle. You
don't suppose she took it, do you?"
John said, "Well, I doubt it, but I'll write her a letter just to be sure."So, he sat down and wrote, "Dear Mother, I'm not saying you 'did' take a gravy ladle from my house, and I'm not saying you 'did not' take a gravy ladle. But, the fact remains that one has been missing ever since you were here for dinner."
Several days later, John received a letter from his mother which read:
"Dear Son, I'm not saying that you 'do' sleep with Julie, and I'm not saying that you 'do not' sleep with Julie. But, the fact remains that if she was sleeping in her own bed, she would have found the gravy ladle by now.
Love,Mom.
A farmer got pulled over by a state trooper for speeding, and the trooper started to lecture the farmer about his speed, and in general began to
throw his weight around to try to make the farmer uncomfortable.
Finally, the trooper got around to writing out the ticket, and as he was doing that he kept swatting at some flies that were buzzing around his head.
The farmer said, "Having some problems with circle flies there, are ya?"
The trooper stopped writing the ticket and said--"Well yeah, if that's what they are--I never heard of circle flies." So the farmer says--"Well, circle flies are common on farms. See, they're called circle flies because they're
almost always found circling around the back end of a horse."
The trooper says, "Oh," and goes back to writing the ticket. Then after a minute he stops and says, "Hey...wait a minute, are you trying to call me a horses ass?"
The farmer says, "Oh no, officer. I have too much respect for law enforcement and police officers to even think about calling you a horses ass."
The trooper says, "Well, that's a good thing," and goes back to writing the ticket.
After a long pause, the farmer says, "Hard to fool them flies though."
It was snowing heavily and blowing to the point that visibility was almost zero when the little blond got off work. She made her way to her car and wondered how she was going to make it home. She sat in her car while it warmed up and thought about her situation. She finally remembered her daddy's advice that if she got caught in a blizzard she should wait for a snow plow to come by and follow it. That way she would not get tuck in a snow drift.
This made her feel much better and sure enough in a little while a snow plow went by and she started to follow it. As she followed the snow plow she was feeling very smug as they continued and she was not having any problem with the blizzard conditions. After quite sometime had passed she was somewhat surprised when the snow plow stopped and the driver got out and came back to her car and signaled for her to roll down her window. The snow plow driver wanted to know if she was all right as she had been following him for a long time. She said that she was fine and told him of her daddies advice to follow a
snow plow when caught in a blizzard. The driver replied that it was OK with him and she could continue if she wanted but he was done with the Wal-Mart parking lot and was going over to Kmart next.
While dining with some clients last week, I noticed a spoon in the shirt
pocket of our waiter as he handed us the menus. It seemed a little odd,
but I dismissed it as a random thing. But when our busboy came with
water & tableware; he, too, sported a spoon in his breast-pocket. I
looked around the room and discovered
that all the waiters, waitresses, busboys, etc. had spoons in their
pockets. When our waiter returned to take our order, I just had to ask,
"Why the spoons?" "Well," he explained, "our parent company recently
hired some Andersen Consulting efficiency experts to review all our
procedures, and after months of statistical analyses, they concluded
that our patrons drop spoons on the floor at a
frequency of 3 spoons per hour per workstation. By preparing all our
workers
for this contingency in advance, we can cut our trips to the kitchen
down and save nearly 1.5 extra man hours per shift." Just as he
concluded, a "ch-ching" came from the table behind him, and he quickly
replaced a fallen spoon with the one from his pocket. "I'll grab
another spoon the next time I'm in the kitchen instead of making a
special trip," he proudly explained. I was impressed. "Thanks. I had
to ask." "No problem," he answered. Then as he continued to take our
orders, I spotted a thin, black thread protruding from his fly. Again,
I dismissed it; yet I had to scan the room and, sure enough, there were
other
waiters & busboys with strings hanging out of their trousers. My
curiosity overrode discretion at this point, so before he could leave I
had to ask. "Excuse me, but...uh...why, or what...about that string?"
"Oh, yeah," he began in a quieter tone. "Not many people are that
observant. That same efficiency group found we could save time in the
Men's room, too." "How's that?" I asked. "You see, by
tying a string to the end of our, eh, selves, we can pull it out at the
urinals
literally hands-free and thereby eliminate the need to wash our hands,
cutting time spent in the restroom by over 93%!" "Oh, that makes
sense," I said, but then thinking thru theprocess, I asked, "Hey,
wait-a-minute. If the string helps you pull it out, how do you get it
back in?" "Well," he whispered, "I don't know about the other guys;
but I use my spoon."
> This husband and wife are staying in a hotel, and after a romantic evening wining and dining they go off to bed. However, as soon as they settle down, the man (not quite ready for slumber) leans over and whispers softly
"Hey snuggle boopy doops, your little hubby wubby isn't quite ready for nighty-nighty yet".
The wife takes the hint and says "OK, but I have to use the bathroom first".
So off she goes but on her way back she trips
over a piece of carpet and lands flat on her face. Her husband jumps up and exclaims in a concerned tone - "Oh my precious little honey bunny, is your nosey-wosey all righty?".
No harm is done, so she jumps into bed and they
have mad passionate sex for three hours. Afterwards, the wife goes off to the bathroom again, but on her way she trips over the same piece of carpet and again lands flat on her face on the floor.
Her husband looks over and grunts - "Clumsy bitch".
WOMAN: What would you do if I died? Would you get married again?
MAN: Definitely not!
WOMAN: Why not - don't you like being married?
MAN: Of course I do.
WOMAN: Then why wouldn't you remarry?
MAN: Okay, I'd get married again.
WOMAN: You would? (with a hurtful look on her face)
MAN: (makes audible groan)
WOMAN: Would you sleep with her in our bed?
MAN: Where else would we sleep?
WOMAN: Would you replace my pictures with hers?
MAN: That would seem like the proper thing to do.
WOMAN: Would she use my golf clubs?
MAN: No, she's left-handed.
WOMAN: - - - silence - - -
MAN: Shit.
Two cannibals meet one day. The first cannibal says, "You know, I just
can't seem to get a tender missionary. I've baked 'em, I've roasted
'em,
I've stewed 'em, I've barbequed 'em, I've even tried every sort of marinade.
I just cannot seem to get them tender."
The second cannibal asks, "What kind of missionary do you use?"
The other replied, "You know, the ones that hang out at that place at the bend of the river. They have those brown cloaks with a rope around the
waist and their sort of bald on top with a funny ring of hair on their heads."
"Ah ha!" he replies. "No wonder... those are friars!"
The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term exam paper: "Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat), or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Support your answer with a proof." Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools off when it expands and heats up when it is compressed) or some variant thereof. 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. Some of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell.
Since, there are more than one of these religions, and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all people and 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 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. Of course, 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 Ms. Krissy Jones during my Freshman year that "it will be a cold night in Hell before I sleep with you" and take into account the fact that I still have not succeeded in having sexual relations with her, then (2) cannot be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic.
- Hello, I'd like to buy some brokkolies...
- I'm sorry madam, we do not have brokkolies.
The same situation is repeated on the next three days.
On the 4th day:
- Hello, I'd like to buy some brokkolies...
- Look madam: would you spell CAT as in catastrophy?
- Ok, C A T
- Ok madam: would you spell DOG as in dogmatic?
- Ok, D O G
- Ok madam: would you spell FUCK as in brokkoly?
- Hmm, there's no fuck_in' brokkoly.
- Exactly madam, that's what i'm trying to tell you.
An attorney went into a bar for a Martini and found himself beside a
scruffy-looking
drunk who kept mumbling and studying something in his hand.
He leaned closer while the drunk held the tiny object up to the light,
slurring,
"Well, it looks plastic." Then he rolled it between his fingers, adding,
"But it feels like rubber."
Curious, the attorney asked, "What do you have there?"
The drunk replied, "I don't know, but it looks like plastic and feels
like rubber."
The attorney responded, "Let me take a look."
So the drunk handed it over and the lawyer rolled between his thumb and
fingers,
then examined it closely by sniffing and licking it. "Yeah, it does look
like plastic
and feel like rubber, has no significant smell or taste, I sure don't
know what it is.
Where did you get it?"
The pilot was Jewish, and the co-pilot was Chinese.It was the first time they had flown together, and it was obvious by the silence that they didn't get along. After 30 minutes, the Captain finally spoke.
He said, "I don't like Chinese."
The co-pilot replied, "Ooooh, no like Chinese? WHY is that?"
The pilot said, "Your guys bombed Pearl Harbor.THAT'S WHY I don't like Chinese!"
The co-pilot said, "Nooooo, noooo ... Chinese not bomb Pearl Harbah. That JAPANESE, not Chinese!"
And the pilot answered, "Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese ... it doesn't matter. They're ALL ALIKE."
Another 30 minutes of silence. Finally the co-pilot said, "No like Jew."
The pilot replied, "Why not? WHY don't you like Jews?"
"Jews sink Titanic."
The pilot tried to correct him, "NO, NO !! The JEWS didn't sink the Titanic. It was an ICEBERG !"
The co-pilot answered, "Iceberg, Goldberg, Rosenberg .. no mattah .. ALL SAME!!"
You go to a party and you see a sexy girl across the room. You go up to her
and say:
"Hi, I'm great in bed, how about it?".
That's direct marketing.
You go to a party and you see a sexy girl across the room. You give your
friend a tenner. He goes up and says:
"Hi, my friend over there is great in bed, how about it?".
That's advertising.
You go to a party, you see a sexy girl across the room. She comes over and
says:
"Hi, I hear you're great in bed, how about it?"
Now, that's the power of branding!
