the official scionlife joke thread!!! post 'em here
01-02-2008, 02:15 PM
#1083
Senior Member
SL Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Jul 2004
Posts: 13,961
IDIOT SIGHTING :
We had to have the garage door repaired. The Sears repairman told us that one of our problems was that we did not have a "large" enough motor on the opener. I thought for a minute, and said that we had the largest one Sears made at that time, a 1/2 horsepower. He shook his head and said, "Lady, you need a 1/4 horsepower." I responded that 1/2 was larger than 1/4. He said, "NO, it's not." Four is larger than two.."
We haven't used Sears repair since.
IDIOT SIGHTING
My daughter and I went through the McDonald's take-out window and I gave the clerk a $5 bill. Our total was $4.25, so I also handed her a quarter. She said, "you gave me too much money." I said, "Yes I know, but this way you can just give me a dollar bill b ack." She sighed and went to get the manager who asked me to repeat my request. I did so, and he handed me back the quarter, and said "Were sorry but we cannot do that kind of thing." The clerk then proceeded to give me back $1 and 75 cents in change.
Do not confuse the clerks at McD's.
IDIOT SIGHTING:
I live in a semi rural area. We recently had a new neighbor call the local township administrative office to request the removal of the DEER CROSSING sign on our road. The reason: "Too many deer are being hit by cars out here! I don't think this is a good place for them to be crossing anymore."
>From Kingman , KS ..
IDIOT SIGHTING IN FOOD SERVICE :
My daughter went to a local Taco Bell and ordered a taco. She asked the person behind the counter for "minimal lettuce." He said he was sorry, but they only had iceberg lettuce.
>From Kansas City
IDIOT SIGHTING :
I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee asked, "Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?" To which I replied, " If it was without my knowledge, how would I know?" He smiled knowingly and nodded, "That's why we ask."
Happened in Birmingham , Ala.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
The stoplight on the corner buzzes when it's safe to cross the street. I was crossing with an intellectually challenged coworker of mine. She asked if I knew what the buzzer was for. I explained that it signals blind people when the light is red. Appalled, she responded, "What on earth are blind people doing driving?!"
She was a probation officer in Wichita , KS ..
IDIOT SIGHTING :At a good-bye luncheon for an old and dear coworker who was leaving the company due to "downsizing", our manager commented cheerfully, "This is fun. We should do this more often." Not another word was spoken. We all just looked at each other with that deer-in-the-headlights stare.
This was a lunch at Texas Instruments.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
I work with an individual who plugged her power strip back into itself and for the sake of her life , couldn't understand why her system would not turn on.
A deputy with the Dallas County Sheriffs office, no less.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
When my husband and I arrived at an automobile dealership to pick up our car, we were told the keys had been locked in it. We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the drivers side door. As I watched fro m the passenger side, I instinctively trie d the door handle and discovered that it was unlocked. "Hey," I announced to the technician, "its open!" His reply, "I know. I already got that side."
This was at the Ford dealership in Canton , Mississippi
We had to have the garage door repaired. The Sears repairman told us that one of our problems was that we did not have a "large" enough motor on the opener. I thought for a minute, and said that we had the largest one Sears made at that time, a 1/2 horsepower. He shook his head and said, "Lady, you need a 1/4 horsepower." I responded that 1/2 was larger than 1/4. He said, "NO, it's not." Four is larger than two.."
We haven't used Sears repair since.
IDIOT SIGHTING
My daughter and I went through the McDonald's take-out window and I gave the clerk a $5 bill. Our total was $4.25, so I also handed her a quarter. She said, "you gave me too much money." I said, "Yes I know, but this way you can just give me a dollar bill b ack." She sighed and went to get the manager who asked me to repeat my request. I did so, and he handed me back the quarter, and said "Were sorry but we cannot do that kind of thing." The clerk then proceeded to give me back $1 and 75 cents in change.
Do not confuse the clerks at McD's.
IDIOT SIGHTING:
I live in a semi rural area. We recently had a new neighbor call the local township administrative office to request the removal of the DEER CROSSING sign on our road. The reason: "Too many deer are being hit by cars out here! I don't think this is a good place for them to be crossing anymore."
>From Kingman , KS ..
IDIOT SIGHTING IN FOOD SERVICE :
My daughter went to a local Taco Bell and ordered a taco. She asked the person behind the counter for "minimal lettuce." He said he was sorry, but they only had iceberg lettuce.
>From Kansas City
IDIOT SIGHTING :
I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee asked, "Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?" To which I replied, " If it was without my knowledge, how would I know?" He smiled knowingly and nodded, "That's why we ask."
Happened in Birmingham , Ala.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
The stoplight on the corner buzzes when it's safe to cross the street. I was crossing with an intellectually challenged coworker of mine. She asked if I knew what the buzzer was for. I explained that it signals blind people when the light is red. Appalled, she responded, "What on earth are blind people doing driving?!"
She was a probation officer in Wichita , KS ..
IDIOT SIGHTING :At a good-bye luncheon for an old and dear coworker who was leaving the company due to "downsizing", our manager commented cheerfully, "This is fun. We should do this more often." Not another word was spoken. We all just looked at each other with that deer-in-the-headlights stare.
This was a lunch at Texas Instruments.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
I work with an individual who plugged her power strip back into itself and for the sake of her life , couldn't understand why her system would not turn on.
A deputy with the Dallas County Sheriffs office, no less.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
When my husband and I arrived at an automobile dealership to pick up our car, we were told the keys had been locked in it. We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the drivers side door. As I watched fro m the passenger side, I instinctively trie d the door handle and discovered that it was unlocked. "Hey," I announced to the technician, "its open!" His reply, "I know. I already got that side."
This was at the Ford dealership in Canton , Mississippi
01-08-2008, 12:44 PM
#1086
Senior Member
SL Member
Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: Hanover, PA
Posts: 2,794
A couple of women were playing golf one sunny Saturday morning. The first of the twosome teed off and watched in horror as her ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole.
The ball hit one of the men, and he immediately clasped his hands together at his groin, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in evident agony.
The woman rushed down to the man and immediately began to apologize. "Please allow me to help. I'm a physical therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you'd allow me," she told him earnestly.
"Ummph, oooh, nnooo, I'll be alright. I'll be fine in a few minutes," he replied breathlessly as he remained in the fetal position still clasping his hands together in his groin.
But she persisted, and he finally allowed her to help him. She gently took his hands away and laid them to the side, she loosened his pants, and she put her hands inside. She began to massage him. She then asked him "How does that feel?"
He replied "It feels great, but my thumb still hurts like hell."
The ball hit one of the men, and he immediately clasped his hands together at his groin, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in evident agony.
The woman rushed down to the man and immediately began to apologize. "Please allow me to help. I'm a physical therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you'd allow me," she told him earnestly.
"Ummph, oooh, nnooo, I'll be alright. I'll be fine in a few minutes," he replied breathlessly as he remained in the fetal position still clasping his hands together in his groin.
But she persisted, and he finally allowed her to help him. She gently took his hands away and laid them to the side, she loosened his pants, and she put her hands inside. She began to massage him. She then asked him "How does that feel?"
He replied "It feels great, but my thumb still hurts like hell."
01-08-2008, 06:58 PM
#1090
Senior Member
SL Member
Join Date: Mar 2006
Location: Redneck Riveria
Posts: 2,409
^^ Her sister was arrested the other day for attempting to do the same thing she did!!! No snit! But it was dark, and in stead of cutting "it" off, she hit a major artery in her husband's leg, but they got him to the hospital in time. However, she's not getting off scott free, she is going to get charged with at least a misdeweiner.
01-08-2008, 07:07 PM
#1091
Senior Member
SL Member
Join Date: Mar 2006
Location: Redneck Riveria
Posts: 2,409
Not a joke, but a story. Yes, it's a story about poo. but it's a very funny story about poo:
Bathroom Etiquette; Why not to use a Cell phone in the bathroom
All in all, it hadn’t been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I’d last taken a dump. I’d tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to go Christmas shopping. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, “Everything Must Go!”. This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathrooms. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 1 through 5 for your convenience:
1. Occupied.
2. Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it’s next to the occupied one.
3. Poo on seat.
4. Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.
5. No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall #2. I trudged back, entered, dropped trousers and sat down. I’m normally a fairly Shameful Crapper. I wasn’t happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. Crapper was blathering to Mrs. Crapper about the crappy day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder with one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude — a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit the resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently.
Once my butt cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon’s continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench. It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial “herald” fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
“Oh my God”, I heard him utter, following it with suppressed sounds of choking, and then, “No, baby, that wasn’t me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??”
Now there was no stopping me. I pushed for all I was worth. I could swear that in the resulting cacophony of rips, squirts, splashes, poots, and blasts, I was actually lifted slightly off the pot. The amount of stuff in me was incredible. It sprayed against the bowl with tremendous force. Later, in surveying the damage, I’d see that liquid poop had actually managed to ricochet out of the bowl and run down the side on to the floor. But for now, all I could do was hang on for the ride.
his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my **** symphony: “
Next door I could hear him fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish
“Gotta go… horrible… throw up… in my mouth… not… make it… tell the kids… love them… oh God…” followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.
Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one’s phone and wipe one’s bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.
There was a lull in my production, and the restroom became deathly quiet. I could envision him standing there, wondering what to do. A final **** announcement came trumpeting from my behind, small chunks plopping noisily into the water. That must have been the last straw. I heard a flush, a fumbling with the lock, and then the stall door was thrown open. I heard him running out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who’d be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth.
As I left, I glanced into the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.
I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it’ll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public — and I doubt he’ll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the bathroom.”
Bathroom Etiquette; Why not to use a Cell phone in the bathroom
All in all, it hadn’t been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I’d last taken a dump. I’d tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to go Christmas shopping. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, “Everything Must Go!”. This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathrooms. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 1 through 5 for your convenience:
1. Occupied.
2. Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it’s next to the occupied one.
3. Poo on seat.
4. Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.
5. No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall #2. I trudged back, entered, dropped trousers and sat down. I’m normally a fairly Shameful Crapper. I wasn’t happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. Crapper was blathering to Mrs. Crapper about the crappy day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder with one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude — a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit the resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently.
Once my butt cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon’s continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench. It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial “herald” fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
“Oh my God”, I heard him utter, following it with suppressed sounds of choking, and then, “No, baby, that wasn’t me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??”
Now there was no stopping me. I pushed for all I was worth. I could swear that in the resulting cacophony of rips, squirts, splashes, poots, and blasts, I was actually lifted slightly off the pot. The amount of stuff in me was incredible. It sprayed against the bowl with tremendous force. Later, in surveying the damage, I’d see that liquid poop had actually managed to ricochet out of the bowl and run down the side on to the floor. But for now, all I could do was hang on for the ride.
his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my **** symphony: “
Next door I could hear him fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish
“Gotta go… horrible… throw up… in my mouth… not… make it… tell the kids… love them… oh God…” followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.
Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one’s phone and wipe one’s bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.
There was a lull in my production, and the restroom became deathly quiet. I could envision him standing there, wondering what to do. A final **** announcement came trumpeting from my behind, small chunks plopping noisily into the water. That must have been the last straw. I heard a flush, a fumbling with the lock, and then the stall door was thrown open. I heard him running out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who’d be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth.
As I left, I glanced into the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.
I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it’ll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public — and I doubt he’ll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the bathroom.”
01-09-2008, 02:17 AM
#1092
Senior Member
SL Member
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 161
i hope that nobdy already posted up this joke, im too lazy to go search all the pages for it 
so theres a taxi driver and he picks up this nun. they're riding and the driver says, nun, ive always had this fantasy ever since i was a kid to make out with a nun. the nun goes, ok but..only under two conditions. 1. you have to be catholic, 2. you have to be single. and the cab driver goes ok both of those apply to me. so they pull into a dark alley and start making out and he gets the best kiss of his life. afterwards, they pull out and start driving again. after awhile, the driver says, nun..i have a confession to make. 1. im jewish 2. im married. and the nun goes, oh ok well i have a confession too..my names charlie and im going to a costume party
roflmao
so theres a taxi driver and he picks up this nun. they're riding and the driver says, nun, ive always had this fantasy ever since i was a kid to make out with a nun. the nun goes, ok but..only under two conditions. 1. you have to be catholic, 2. you have to be single. and the cab driver goes ok both of those apply to me. so they pull into a dark alley and start making out and he gets the best kiss of his life. afterwards, they pull out and start driving again. after awhile, the driver says, nun..i have a confession to make. 1. im jewish 2. im married. and the nun goes, oh ok well i have a confession too..my names charlie and im going to a costume party
roflmao
01-09-2008, 06:24 AM
#1094
Two guys had traveled to Alaska to go to the Catholic Church there. When they get there guy 2 asked the nun, "Excuse me do you have any midget nuns". The nun response "No". Guy 1 says "Told you you f***ed a penguin"
01-14-2008, 02:12 PM
#1095
Senior Member
SL Member
Scinergy
Join Date: Mar 2006
Location: Douglasville, GA
Posts: 1,851
Hello?"
"Hi honey. This is Daddy. Is Mommy near the phone?"
"No, Daddy. She's upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul."
After a brief pause,
Daddy says, "But honey, you haven't got an Uncle Paul."
"Oh yes I do, and he's upstairs in the room with Mommy, Right now."
Brief Pause.
"Uh, okay then, this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down on the table, run upstairs And knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy That Daddy's car just pulled into the driveway."
"Okay, Daddy, Just a minute."
A few minutes later The little girl comes back to the phone.
"I did it, Daddy."
"And what happened, honey?" He asked.
"Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed With no clothes on and ran around screaming. Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser And now she isn't moving at all!"
"Oh my God!!! What about your Uncle Paul?"
"He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too.
He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window And into the swimming pool. But I guess he didn't know that you took out the water Last week to clean it.
He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he's dead."
Long Pause
Longer Pause
Even Longer Pause
Then Daddy says,
"Swimming pool? ............. Is this 486-5731?"
No, I think you have the wrong number.......
"Hi honey. This is Daddy. Is Mommy near the phone?"
"No, Daddy. She's upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul."
After a brief pause,
Daddy says, "But honey, you haven't got an Uncle Paul."
"Oh yes I do, and he's upstairs in the room with Mommy, Right now."
Brief Pause.
"Uh, okay then, this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down on the table, run upstairs And knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy That Daddy's car just pulled into the driveway."
"Okay, Daddy, Just a minute."
A few minutes later The little girl comes back to the phone.
"I did it, Daddy."
"And what happened, honey?" He asked.
"Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed With no clothes on and ran around screaming. Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser And now she isn't moving at all!"
"Oh my God!!! What about your Uncle Paul?"
"He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too.
He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window And into the swimming pool. But I guess he didn't know that you took out the water Last week to clean it.
He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he's dead."
Long Pause
Longer Pause
Even Longer Pause
Then Daddy says,
"Swimming pool? ............. Is this 486-5731?"
No, I think you have the wrong number.......
01-16-2008, 03:55 AM
#1096
^ ha that's awesome ^
check this vid out. there's like 10 other episodes but this is great!
http://youtube.com/watch?v=XYoSvrFzGRg&feature=related
check this vid out. there's like 10 other episodes but this is great!
http://youtube.com/watch?v=XYoSvrFzGRg&feature=related
01-31-2008, 04:31 PM
#1097
Senior Member
Team ScionEyed
SL Member
iTrader: (1)
Join Date: Sep 2005
Location: Houston, TX
Posts: 3,703
Chelsea Clinton recently discussed current events
> with a U.S.
> soldier.
> She asked if, as an American fighting man,
> anything scared him.
>
>
>
>
> He told her there were only three things he feared:
>
>
> 1) Osama
>
>
> 2) Obama
>
>
> AND
>
> 3) Yo Mama
> with a U.S.
> soldier.
> She asked if, as an American fighting man,
> anything scared him.
>
>
>
>
> He told her there were only three things he feared:
>
>
> 1) Osama
>
>
> 2) Obama
>
>
> AND
>
> 3) Yo Mama
01-31-2008, 06:42 PM
#1098
Senior Member
SL Member
Scinergy
Scinergy
Join Date: Feb 2007
Location: The state of euphoria
Posts: 815
Originally Posted by SicktC06
Hello?"
"Hi honey. This is Daddy. Is Mommy near the phone?"
"No, Daddy. She's upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul."
After a brief pause,
Daddy says, "But honey, you haven't got an Uncle Paul."
"Oh yes I do, and he's upstairs in the room with Mommy, Right now."
Brief Pause.
"Uh, okay then, this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down on the table, run upstairs And knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy That Daddy's car just pulled into the driveway."
"Okay, Daddy, Just a minute."
A few minutes later The little girl comes back to the phone.
"I did it, Daddy."
"And what happened, honey?" He asked.
"Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed With no clothes on and ran around screaming. Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser And now she isn't moving at all!"
"Oh my God!!! What about your Uncle Paul?"
"He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too.
He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window And into the swimming pool. But I guess he didn't know that you took out the water Last week to clean it.
He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he's dead."
Long Pause
Longer Pause
Even Longer Pause
Then Daddy says,
"Swimming pool? ............. Is this 486-5731?"
No, I think you have the wrong number.......
"Hi honey. This is Daddy. Is Mommy near the phone?"
"No, Daddy. She's upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul."
After a brief pause,
Daddy says, "But honey, you haven't got an Uncle Paul."
"Oh yes I do, and he's upstairs in the room with Mommy, Right now."
Brief Pause.
"Uh, okay then, this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down on the table, run upstairs And knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy That Daddy's car just pulled into the driveway."
"Okay, Daddy, Just a minute."
A few minutes later The little girl comes back to the phone.
"I did it, Daddy."
"And what happened, honey?" He asked.
"Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed With no clothes on and ran around screaming. Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser And now she isn't moving at all!"
"Oh my God!!! What about your Uncle Paul?"
"He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too.
He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window And into the swimming pool. But I guess he didn't know that you took out the water Last week to clean it.
He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he's dead."
Long Pause
Longer Pause
Even Longer Pause
Then Daddy says,
"Swimming pool? ............. Is this 486-5731?"
No, I think you have the wrong number.......
Thats great i haven't read that one in forever still makes me laugh
02-20-2008, 06:31 PM
#1099
Senior Member
SL Member
Join Date: Jun 2006
Location: Royal Post Palace
Posts: 14,092
MENTAL HOSPITAL PHONE MENU
Hello and thank you for calling the State Mental Hospital. Please
select
from the following options menu:
If you are obsessive-compulsive, press 1 repeatedly.
If you are co-dependent, please ask someone to press 2 for you.
If you have multiple personalities, press 3, 4, 5 and 6.
If you are paranoid, we know who you are and what you want. Stay on
the
line so we can trace your call.
If you are delusional, press 7 and your call will be forwarded to the
Mother Ship.
If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully and a little voice will
tell
you which number to press.
If you are manic-depressive, it doesn't matter which number you press,
nothing will make you happy anyway.
If you are dyslexic, press 9696969696969696.
If you are bipolar, please leave a message after the beep or before
the
beep or after the beep. Please wait for the beep.
If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term
memory loss, press 9. If however, you have short-term memory loss,
press
9.
If you have low self-esteem, please hang up. Our operators are too
busy
to talk with you.
If you are menopausal, put the gun down, hang up, turn on the fan, lie
down.
If you are blonde, don't press any buttons, you'll just mess it up.
Hello and thank you for calling the State Mental Hospital. Please
select
from the following options menu:
If you are obsessive-compulsive, press 1 repeatedly.
If you are co-dependent, please ask someone to press 2 for you.
If you have multiple personalities, press 3, 4, 5 and 6.
If you are paranoid, we know who you are and what you want. Stay on
the
line so we can trace your call.
If you are delusional, press 7 and your call will be forwarded to the
Mother Ship.
If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully and a little voice will
tell
you which number to press.
If you are manic-depressive, it doesn't matter which number you press,
nothing will make you happy anyway.
If you are dyslexic, press 9696969696969696.
If you are bipolar, please leave a message after the beep or before
the
beep or after the beep. Please wait for the beep.
If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term
memory loss, press 9. If however, you have short-term memory loss,
press
9.
If you have low self-esteem, please hang up. Our operators are too
busy
to talk with you.
If you are menopausal, put the gun down, hang up, turn on the fan, lie
down.
If you are blonde, don't press any buttons, you'll just mess it up.
