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Old 08-12-2008, 07:41 PM   #751
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A WWII American soldier had been on the front lines in Europe for three months, when he was finally given a week of R&R. He caught a supply boat to a supply base in the south of England, then caught a train to London.

The train was extremely crowded and he could not find a seat. He was dead on his feet and walked the length of the train looking for any place to sit down. Finally he found a compartment with seats facing each other; there was room for two people on each seat. On one side sat only a proper looking, older British lady, with a small dog sitting in the empty seat beside her.

"Could I please sit in that seat?" he asked. The lady looked down her nose at the soldier, sniffed and said, "You Americans are so rude" she said, "Can't you see my dog is sitting there?"

He walked through the train more and still could not find a seat. He found himself back at the same place. "Lady, I love dogs - have a couple at home so I would be glad to hold your dog if I can just sit down" he said. The lady wrinkled her nose and snorted, "You Americans are not only rude, you are arrogant."

He leaned against the wall for a time, but was so tired he finally said, "Lady, I've been on the front lines in Europe for three months with not a decent rest for all that time. Could I just please sit there and hold your dog?" The lady replied, "You Americans are not only rude and arrogant, you are also obnoxious."

With that comment, the soldier calmly stepped in, picked up the dog, threw it out the window and sat down. The lady was speechless.

An older neatly dressed Englishman sitting across on the other seat spoke up. "Young man, I do not know if all you Americans fit the lady's description of you or not. But I do know that you Americans do a lot of things wrong. You drive on the wrong side of the road, you hold your fork with the wrong hand, and now you have just thrown the wrong b___h out of the window!"
****************************************
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Old 09-12-2008, 12:03 PM   #752
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Webster's Dictionary Definition of Windows95

Windows95: <win-doz-nin-te-fiv n.>

32 bit extensions and a graphical shell for a 16 bit patch to an 8 bit
operating system originally coded for a 4 bit microprocessor, written by a
2 bit company, that can't stand 1 bit of competition.
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While the basic Ford Six was code named Barra, the Turbo version clearly deserved its very own moniker – again enter Gordon Barfield.
We asked him if the engine had actually been called “Seagull” and how that came about.
“Actually it was just call “Gull”, because I named it that. Because we knew it was going to poo on everything”.
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Old 09-12-2008, 02:05 PM   #753
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thanks for brightenin up my day, keep em comin

Quote:
Originally Posted by Burnedout
Webster's Dictionary Definition of Windows95

Windows95: <win-doz-nin-te-fiv n.>

32 bit extensions and a graphical shell for a 16 bit patch to an 8 bit
operating system originally coded for a 4 bit microprocessor, written by a
2 bit company, that can't stand 1 bit of competition.
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Old 11-12-2008, 10:58 AM   #754
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A man was riding his Harley along a California beach when suddenly the sky clouded above his head and, in a booming voice, the Lord said,'
Because you have TRIED to be faithful to me in all ways, I will grant you one wish.'

The biker pulled over and said, 'Build a bridge to Hawaii so I can ride over anytime I want.'

The Lord said, 'Your request is materialistic, think of the enormous challenges for that kind of undertaking; the supports required to reach the bottom of the Pacific and the concrete and steel it would take! It will nearly exhaust several natural resources. I can do it, but it is hard for me to justify your desire for worldly things.
Take a little more time and think of something that could possibly help mankind.'

The biker thought about it for a long time. Finally, he said, 'Lord, I wish that I, and all men, could understand our wives and girlfriends; I want to know how she feels inside, what she's thinking when she gives me the silent treatment, why she cries, what she means when she says nothing's wrong, and how I can make a woman truly happy.'

The Lord replied, 'You want two lanes or four on that bridge?

Cheers
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Old 11-12-2008, 04:36 PM   #755
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Into a Belfast pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he'd just been run over
by a train. His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is cut and
bruised and he's walking with a limp. 'What happened to you?'
asks Sean, the bartender. ' Jamie O'Conner and me had a fight,' says
Paddy. 'T hat little sod, O'Conner,' says Sean, 'He couldn't do that to
you, he must have had something in his hand.'' That he did,' says Paddy,
'a shovel is what he had, and a terrible lickin' he gave me with it.'
'Well,' says Sean, 'you should have defended yourself, didn't you have
something in your hand?' That I did,' said Paddy. 'Mrs. O'Conner's breast,
and a thing of beauty it was, but useless in a fight.'
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While the basic Ford Six was code named Barra, the Turbo version clearly deserved its very own moniker – again enter Gordon Barfield.
We asked him if the engine had actually been called “Seagull” and how that came about.
“Actually it was just call “Gull”, because I named it that. Because we knew it was going to poo on everything”.
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Old 11-12-2008, 06:13 PM   #756
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An American tourist goes on a trip to China . While in China , he is very sexually promiscuous and does not use a condom all the time.
A week after arriving back home in the States, he wakes one morning to find his covered with bright green and purple bumps.
Horrified, he immediately goes to see a doctor. The doctor, never having seen anything like it, orders some tests and tells the man to return in two days.
The man returns in a couple of days and the doctor says: "I've got bad news for you. You've contracted Mongolian VD. It's very rare and almost unheard of here. We know very little about it".
The man looks a little perplexed and says: "Well, give me a shot or something and fix me up, doc".. The doctor answers: "I'm sorry, there's no known cure.
We're going to have to amputate your ". The man screams ! In horror, "Absolutely not! I want a second opinion".
The doctor replies: "Well, it's your choice. Go ahead if you want, but surgery is your only choice".
The next day, the man seeks out a Chinese doctor, figuring that he'll know more about the disease.

The Chinese doctor examines his and proclaims: "Ah, yes, Mongolian VD. Vely lare disease".

The guy says to the doctor: "Yeah, yeah, I already know that!, but what we can do? My American doctor wants to operate and amputate my ?"

The Chinese doctor shakes his head and laughs: "Stupid Amelican docta, always want to opelate. Make more money, that way. No need to opelate!"

"Oh, Thank God!", the man replies.

"Yes", says the Chinese doctor, "You no worry! Wait two weeks, fall off by itself! You save money.
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Old 12-12-2008, 09:18 PM   #757
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Why Santa doesn't exist.

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 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - 378 million according to the Population Reference Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.

Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house.
Assuming that each of these 91.8 millions stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc. This means that 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 on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a pokey 27.4 miles per second - a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight.
On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload - not even counting the weight of the sleigh - to 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison - this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch).

353,000 tons accelerating to 650 miles per second from standing creates enormous air resistance - this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second (or about the time he's visiting the 5th house).

Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, crushing his bones and reducing him to a gibbering mass. In conclusion - If Santa ever DID exist, he's dead now.


Merry Christmas.
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FG G6ET 50th Anniversary in Sensation.
While the basic Ford Six was code named Barra, the Turbo version clearly deserved its very own moniker – again enter Gordon Barfield.
We asked him if the engine had actually been called “Seagull” and how that came about.
“Actually it was just call “Gull”, because I named it that. Because we knew it was going to poo on everything”.
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Old 12-12-2008, 09:22 PM   #758
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I have the site you get those off set on my outlook calender every friday so I remember too look!

Were some good ones this week haha.
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Tex
I couldn't give a crap how many are in their family, what gay passtimes they paticipate in, or whether they have a cat, dog or a freaken fish.

Keep your stinking family to yourself god damn it.
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Old 12-12-2008, 09:30 PM   #759
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Quote:
Originally Posted by XR6_661
I have the site you get those off set on my outlook calender every friday so I remember too look!

Were some good ones this week haha.
Send us an email, bottom of page on site and it will be sent to you.........
You can also contribute if you like..................
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FG G6ET 50th Anniversary in Sensation.
While the basic Ford Six was code named Barra, the Turbo version clearly deserved its very own moniker – again enter Gordon Barfield.
We asked him if the engine had actually been called “Seagull” and how that came about.
“Actually it was just call “Gull”, because I named it that. Because we knew it was going to poo on everything”.
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Old 12-12-2008, 09:32 PM   #760
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I might do just that! I get some pretty good FWDs at work!

Cheers mate.
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Tex
I couldn't give a crap how many are in their family, what gay passtimes they paticipate in, or whether they have a cat, dog or a freaken fish.

Keep your stinking family to yourself god damn it.
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Old 12-12-2008, 10:04 PM   #761
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Things are now so bad with the credit crunch that women have started having to shag their husbands, they just can't afford the batteries.
*********************************************

A man appears in Court requesting a divorce. After reviewing the facts the judge says to him, "Please tell me why I should grant this divorce". The man steps forward and says "Because we live in a two storey house".
The judge gives a stern look and says, "What kind of grounds is that for Divorce? What's the big deal about a two storey house?"
"Well, your honour," the man answers, "One story is 'I have a headache,' and the other story is 'It's that time of the month'.
********************************************

They've brought out a new cut price sat-nav for farmers. It only has one message:

"At the end of the field turn round"
********************************************
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Old 13-12-2008, 12:20 AM   #762
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Burnedout
Why Santa doesn't exist.

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 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - 378 million according to the Population Reference Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.

Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house.
Assuming that each of these 91.8 millions stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc. This means that 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 on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a pokey 27.4 miles per second - a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight.
On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload - not even counting the weight of the sleigh - to 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison - this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch).

353,000 tons accelerating to 650 miles per second from standing creates enormous air resistance - this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second (or about the time he's visiting the 5th house).

Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, crushing his bones and reducing him to a gibbering mass. In conclusion - If Santa ever DID exist, he's dead now.


Merry Christmas.
Surely this breaches AFF T&Cs?... This charlatan's trying to imply Santa doesn't exist?... (Don't YOU bother putting your stocking out mate, it'll be bloody empty )
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Old 13-12-2008, 10:56 PM   #763
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Quote:
Originally Posted by charliewool
Surely this breaches AFF T&Cs?... This charlatan's trying to imply Santa doesn't exist?... (Don't YOU bother putting your stocking out mate, it'll be bloody empty )
I put me stocking out last year & the year before an there was sod all in it either time..................... That'll teach me to brick up me chimley cause they told me about Global Warming.
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While the basic Ford Six was code named Barra, the Turbo version clearly deserved its very own moniker – again enter Gordon Barfield.
We asked him if the engine had actually been called “Seagull” and how that came about.
“Actually it was just call “Gull”, because I named it that. Because we knew it was going to poo on everything”.
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Old 14-12-2008, 12:25 AM   #764
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Burnedout
Why Santa doesn't exist.

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 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - 378 million according to the Population Reference Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.

Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house.
Assuming that each of these 91.8 millions stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc. This means that 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 on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a pokey 27.4 miles per second - a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight.
On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload - not even counting the weight of the sleigh - to 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison - this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch).

353,000 tons accelerating to 650 miles per second from standing creates enormous air resistance - this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second (or about the time he's visiting the 5th house).

Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, crushing his bones and reducing him to a gibbering mass. In conclusion - If Santa ever DID exist, he's dead now.


Merry Christmas.
Thanks for ruining my Christmas, spoilsport!

Looks like I only have the Easter Bunny to turn to now!
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Old 14-12-2008, 04:34 PM   #765
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But Santa is the only person that knows and understands Einstein's Theory of Relativity, so he can warps time, space, and mass to get the job done.
Fear not, he will be here this Xmas.
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Old 14-12-2008, 09:10 PM   #766
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Quote:
Originally Posted by uranium_death
Thanks for ruining my Christmas, spoilsport!

Looks like I only have the Easter Bunny to turn to now!
Forget it mate, I shot the Easter Bunny a couple of years ago, nothing like the taste of well fed 'underground mutton'.
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While the basic Ford Six was code named Barra, the Turbo version clearly deserved its very own moniker – again enter Gordon Barfield.
We asked him if the engine had actually been called “Seagull” and how that came about.
“Actually it was just call “Gull”, because I named it that. Because we knew it was going to poo on everything”.
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Old 15-12-2008, 10:28 PM   #767
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I want a for TARDIS for christmas... maybe Santa has a spare one.
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Old 16-12-2008, 12:40 PM   #768
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1994's most bizzare suicide. (not sure if this is true or not but its funny!)

At the 1994 annual awards dinner given by the American Association for Forensic Sciences, AAFS President Don Harper Mills astounded his audience in San Diego with the legal complications of a bizarre death. Here is the story...

On March 23 the medical examiner viewed the body of Ronald Opus and concluded that he died from a gunshot wound of the head caused by a shotgun. Investigation to that point had revealed that the decedent had jumped from the top of a ten story building with the intent to commit suicide. (He left a note indicating his despondency.) As he passed the 9th floor on the way down, his life was interrupted by a shotgun blast through a window, killing him instantly. Neither the shooter nor the decedent was aware that a safety net had been erected at the 8th floor level to protect some window washers, and that the decedent would not have been able to complete his intent to commit suicide because of this...

Ordinarily a person who starts into motion the events with a suicide intent ultimately commits suicide even though the mechanism might be not what he intended. That he was shot on the way to certain death nine stories below probably would not change his mode of death from suicide to homicide, but the fact that his suicide intent would not have been achieved under any circumstance caused the medical examiner to feel that he had homicide on his hands...

Further investigation led to the discovery that the room on the 9th floor from whence the shotgun blast emanated was occupied by an elderly man and his wife. He was threatening her with the shotgun because of an interspousal spat and became so upset that he could not hold the shotgun straight. Therefore, when he pulled the trigger, he completely missed his wife, and the pellets went through the window, striking the decedent.

When one intends to kill subject A, but kills subject B in the attempt, one is guilty of the murder of subject B. The old man was confronted with this conclusion, but both he and his wife were adamant in stating that neither knew that the shotgun was loaded. It was the longtime habit of the old man to threaten his wife with an unloaded shotgun. He had no intent to murder her; therefore, the killing of the decedent appeared then to be accident. That is, the gun had been accidentally loaded...

But further investigation turned up a witness that their son was seen loading the shotgun approximately six weeks prior to the fatal accident. That investigation showed that the mother (the old lady) had cut off her son's financial support, and her son, knowing the propensity of his father to use the shotgun threateningly, loaded the gun with the expectation that the father would shoot his mother. The case now becomes one of murder on the part of the son for the death of Ronald Opus...

Further investigation revealed that the son became increasingly despondent over the failure of his attempt to get his mother murdered. This led him to jump off the ten story building on March 23, only to be killed by a shotgun blast through a 9th story window.
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Old 16-12-2008, 07:08 PM   #769
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Burnedout
Why Santa doesn't exist.

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 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - 378 million according to the Population Reference Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.

Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house.
Assuming that each of these 91.8 millions stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc. This means that 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 on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a pokey 27.4 miles per second - a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight.
On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload - not even counting the weight of the sleigh - to 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison - this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch).

353,000 tons accelerating to 650 miles per second from standing creates enormous air resistance - this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second (or about the time he's visiting the 5th house).

Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, crushing his bones and reducing him to a gibbering mass. In conclusion - If Santa ever DID exist, he's dead now.


Merry Christmas.
finally we have the answer this is how he does it http://au.news.yahoo.com/a/-/odd/521...cientist-says/
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Old 18-12-2008, 01:34 PM   #770
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A young Aussie lad moved to London and went to Harrods looking for a job.

The manager asked "Do you have any sales experience?"

The young man answered "Yeah, I was a salesman back home."

The manager liked the Aussie so he gave him the job.

His first day on the job was challenging and busy, but he got through it.

After the store was locked up, the manager came down and asked

"OK, so how many sales did you make today?"

The Aussie said "One."

The manager groaned and continued "Just one? Our sales people average 20 or 30 sales a day.

How much was the sale for?"

....... "124,237.64. pounds"

The manager choked and exclaimed "124,237.64 POUNDS" What the hell did you sell him?"

"Well, first I sold him a small fish hook, then a medium fish hook, and then I sold him a new fishing rod.

Then I asked him where he was going fishing and he said down

at the coast, so I told him he would need a boat, so we went down to the

boat department and I sold him that twin-engined Power Cat.

Then he said he didn't think his Honda Civic would pull it, so I

took him down to car sales and I sold him the 4 x 4 Range Rover".

The manager, incredulous, said "You mean to tell me....a guy came in

here to buy a fish hook and you sold him a boat and 4x4?"

"No no no......he came in here to buy a box of tampons for his lady friend and I said.........

'Well, since your weekend's stuffed, you might as well go fishing."
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Old 18-12-2008, 02:20 PM   #771
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Default Xmas jokes for the kiddies

What do monkeys sing at Christmas ?
Jungle Bells, Jungle bells.. !

Why are Christmas trees like bad knitters ?
They both drop their needles !

What's Christmas called in England ?
Yule Britannia !

What did the bald man say when he got a comb for Christmas ?
Thanks, I'll never part with it !

Why is a burning candle like being thirsty ?
Beacause a little water ends both of them !

What do you get if you cross an apple with a Christmas tree ?
A pineapple !

What do you give a train driver for Christmas ?
Platform shoes !

What did the big candle say to the little candle ?
I'm going out tonight !

Whats happens to you at Christmas ?
Yule be happy !

How long does it take to burn a candle down ?
About a wick !

What do reindeer hang on their Christmas trees?
Horn-aments!

How can Santa's sleigh possibly fly through the air?
You would too if you were pulled by flying reindeer!

What would a reindeer do if it lost its tail?
Shed go to a re-tail shop for a new one!

Why is Prancer always wet?
Because hes a rain-deer!

Why does Scrooge love all of the reindeer?
Because every buck is dear to him!

Which of Santa's reindeer has bad manners?
Rude-olph!

What do you call a reindeer wearing ear muffs?
Anything you want because he can?t hear you!

What do reindeer always say before telling you a joke?
This one will sleigh you!

How does Rudolph know when Christmas is coming?
He looks at his calen-deer?!


How do you get into Donner's house?
You ring the deer-bell!

What's red and white and gives presents to gazelles?
Santelope!

How many reindeer does it take to change a light bulb?
Eight! One to screw in the light bulb and seven to hold Rudolph down!

Did Rudolph go to a regular school?
No, he was elf-taught!

Why did Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer cross the road?
Because he was tied to a chicken!

Why do reindeer wear fur coats?
Because they look silly in ski suits!
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Old 18-12-2008, 07:07 PM   #772
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Now that Ben Cousins has joined the Richmond Tigers in AFL, some have felt the need to re-write the Tigers club song:

Oh we're from cocaine land, a fighting addiction, we're from cocaine
land, in any weather you will see us with a grin, powder dripping from
our chin, if we're behind, then never mind, we'll bong and bong and
sniff, oh we're from cocaine land, we're never beaten till the final
pill is gone, unlike the Tigers of old, we wont stop till all the drugs
are sold, oh we're from cocaine - white powder and smack, oh we're from
cocaine land.
*******************************************

Why do men die first? This is a question that has gone unanswered for centuries, but, now we know. It requires a bit of explanation.

If you put a woman on a pedestal and try to protect her from the rat race, you're a male chauvinist.
If you stay home and do the housework, you're a pansy.
If you work too hard, there's never any time for her.
If you don't work enough, you're a good-for-nothing bum.
If she has a boring repetitive job with low pay, this is exploitation. If you have a boring repetitive job with low pay, you should get off your lazy behind and find something better.
If you get a promotion ahead of her, that is favouritism. If she gets a job ahead of you, its equal opportunity.

If you mention how nice she looks, its sexual harassment. If you keep quiet, its male indifference.
If you cry, you're a wimp. If you don't, you're an insensitive bastard.
If you make a decision without consulting her, you're a chauvinist. If she makes a decision without consulting you, she's a liberated woman.
If you ask her to do something she doesn't enjoy, that's domination. If SHE asks you, it's a favour.
If you appreciate the female form and sexy underwear, you're a pervert. If you don't, you're gay.

If you like a woman to shave her legs and keep in shape, you're sexist. If you don't, you're unromantic.
If you try to keep yourself in shape, you're vain. If you don't, you're a slob.
If you buy her flowers, you're after something. If you don't, you're not thoughtful.
If you're proud of your achievements, you're full of yourself. If you don't, you're not ambitious.
If she has a headache, she's tired. If you have a headache, you don't love her anymore.
If you want it too often, you're oversexed. If you don't, there must be someone else.

Why do men die first?

Because they want to!
**************************************

How times have changed.

Years ago you had to open up a girl's knickers to see her buttocks.
These days you have to open up her buttocks to see her knickers.
**************************************

At the snooker today, it's Marco Fu verses Mark King.
Should be a good Fu King game.
**************************************

Police have finally admitted they got it wrong in the shooting of Jean Charles de Menez.

It was his naughty brother Dennis they were after.
**************************************

There was a small Cornish parish where a vicar's wife was expecting a baby. He went to the congregation and asked for a raise. After much consideration and discussion, they passed a rule that whenever the vicar's family expanded, so would his salary. After six children, this started to get expensive and the congregation decided to hold another meeting to discuss his salary.

There was much yelling and bickering about how much the clergyman's additional children were costing the church. Finally, the vicar got up and spoke to the crowd. “Having children is an act of God!” Silence fell upon the congregation. No one dared to challenge the thought.

An old local fisherman stood up and in a gruff voice said: “Howling wind, 40' waves and torrential rain are also acts of God, but when we get too much, we wear rubbers...”
**************************************

Urgent Notice: Procrastinators Anonymous meeting has been postponed until tomorrow evening.
**************************************

Ever noticed how much America is like an immature adolescent?

1: It has lots of energy and makes lots of noise, but doesn't actually have anything to say.

2: Won't shut up so other people can speak.

3: Has a short attention span, lacks self control and likes to shock others.

4: Believes it is always right and everyone else is always wrong.

5: Wants everyone else to change to fit in with it.

6: Has a lousy diet and no dress sense - but is still vain!

7: Has no concept of neutrality or indifference "if you're not with us, you're against us." (Wanna join my gang?)

8: Speaks a dialect incomprehensible to everyone else.

9: If it doesn't get its own way it sulks and refuses to join in.

10: Gets bratty when other people don't agree with it.

11: It likes immediate gratification, but rarely considers the long term consequences of its action.

12: Likes to be the centre of attention.

13: It is a really bad loser.

14: always whining that everyone hates it, but can't understand that it is its own fault.

15: Poor vocabulary: speaks in catch phrases and sound-bites like "shock and awe", not in sentences.

16: When it can't resolve differences through discussion (most of the time, since it can't cope with being wrong), it resorts to violence and threat.

17: It's a young country that doesn't respect its elders.
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Old 19-12-2008, 08:27 PM   #773
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This is an article submitted to a 1999 Louisville Sentinel contest to find
out who had the wildest Christmas dinners. (It won first prize.)

As a joke, my brother Jay used to hang a pair of panty hose over his
fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill
them.

What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because
every
Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings overflowed, his poor
pantyhose hung sadly empty.

One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and I
went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at
Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown.

If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go. you'll only confuse
yourself. I was there an hour saying things like, "What does this do?"
"You're kidding me!" "Who would buy that?" Finally, I made it to the
inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll
that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the
car pool lane during rush hour.

Finding what I wanted was difficult . "Love Dolls" come in many different
models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do
things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for "Lovable
Louise." She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call Louise a "doll"
took a huge leap of imagination.

On Christmas Eve and with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to
life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee
morning hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling
pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies
and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went home,
and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house
and left a present that had made him VERY happy, but had left the dog
confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some
more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her pantyhose so the rest
of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional
Christmas dinner.

My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. "What the
hell is that?" she asked.
My brother quickly explained, "It's a doll." "Who would play with something
like that?" Granny snapped.
I kept my mouth shut. "Where are her clothes?" Granny continued. "Boy, that
turkey sure smells nice, Gran," Jay said, to steer her into the dining
room.
But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?" Again, I could
have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride
in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny, hang on!"

My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me
and said, " Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?"
I told him she was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by
the mantel, talking to Louise.
Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this
might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who
was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise
like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the
mantel,
flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa.
The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran
across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth-to-mouth
resuscitation.

My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants. Granny threw down
her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car.
It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.

Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide
the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from
a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks to a wonder
drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health.

I can't wait until next Christmas!!
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“Actually it was just call “Gull”, because I named it that. Because we knew it was going to poo on everything”.
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Old 20-12-2008, 03:18 PM   #774
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I've been chatting to a 14 yr girl old on the net recently
She's smart, sexy, funny and get this... she just told me she's an undercover cop!
How cool is that at her age?!?!
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Old 20-12-2008, 11:22 PM   #775
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Schizophrenia association currently offering a group discount...
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Old 21-12-2008, 03:51 PM   #776
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The credit crunch has hit people so hard that women are now marrying for love!
*******************************************

A young man from Tasmania, goes and asks his dad if he can marry a young lady, his dad asks him "Is she a virgin?", to which his son replies "Yes, why does that matter?."

To which his Dad replies "If she's not good enough for her own family, she's not good enough for ours!"
*******************************************

Three models, a brunette, a redhead and a blonde are having a loud arguement about who is the prettiest, when a man walks past claiming to have a magic mirror that will crack if someone looks in it and lies.

The brunette looks in the mirror and says 'I think I am the prettiest woman on the earth' and a large crack appeared down the middle of the mirror.

Smugly, the redhead looks in the mirror and says 'I think I am the prettiest woman on the earth, and again a large crack appears next to the first.

Delighted, the blonde looks into the mirror and says 'I think...' and the mirror shattered into pieces.
*******************************************

The Night Before Christmas
by Rob (Explosm.net)

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Except for my son Billy's pet mouse named Chris.
I'm not really sure where I'm going with this.

Anyway, my wife in her kerchief and I in my cap,
Were asleep after a long day of Christmassy crap.
When then, from the chimney, there arose quite a clamour,
"There's someone in the house" my frightened wife stammered.
I reached for the bedside, grabbed my handgun and said,
"This trespasser's getting an *** full of lead"

I crept down the stairway, and slid down the hall,
And, handgun in hand, I peered 'round the wall.
The burglar wore red, and stood fat and stout,
With a large burlap sack, to hold jewellery no doubt.
Who this guy was, I just couldn't place,
For a bushy white beard covered most of his face.

Now, I'm not a bad person, I think you'd agree,
But you just don't break into a man's house, you see.
"Hey you" I said, as he spun 'round with a twitch,
"Merry Christmas, you son of a b____!"

I fired a shot as he dove to the floor.
Through a flurry of tinsel, I fired twice more.
"Please stop!" he yelled loudly, "You don't understand"
"Stay away from my family, you disgusting old man"

With his finger on his nose, he lept with a burst,
And dashed for the fireplace, but I got there first.
I pushed the muzzle into his beard white as snow,
When suddenly a small voice behind me cried "No!"

I turned 'round and saw it was Billy, my son.
With his pet mouse in hand, he said "Put down the gun.
What are you doing? Don't you know who that is?
Couldn't you tell by that red hat of his?
That's Santa Claus, dad. It's jolly Saint Nick.
Now put down the gun. Come on, don't be a *Rick*."

Billy was right, this old man meant no harm.
I holstered my gun, as he outstretched his arm.
In a flash he took the gun right out of its holder,
And fired a shot into my left shoulder.

"Goddamnit!" I cried as I fell to the floor,
While the burglar made haste toward the jewellery drawer.
"I feel kind of bad" he said, filling his sack,
"But you believe in Santa, so cut me some slack.
Maybe next time someone breaks into your house,
You won't listen to some six year old kid with a mouse."

Then he yelled, as he ran off with my bigscreen TV,
"Merry Christmas to all. Well, maybe to me!"
*****************************************

A man walked up to view the body of his mother-in-law at a funeral. As he began to weep his wife walked up to him, slapped him and said, "Why are you crying, you never liked my mother anyway!"
The husband replied, "I know. I thought I saw her move."
*****************************************

The Queen and the Pope are on stage together a huge charity event.Obviously, they've both done this sort of things many times before, so to make it a little bit more interesting the Queen says to the Pope, "How about a wager? I bet I can make every British person in this crowd go wild with just one little wave of my hand."
The Pope agrees and the Queen waves her hand. Sure enough, the Royal wave elicits rapturous applause and cheering from all the Brits in the crowd.
The Pope, not wanting to be outdone by someone wearing a worse frock than him, says to the Queen, "That was impressive. How about another wager? I bet I can make every Irish person in this crowd go crazy with a nod of my head. But it won't just last for a minute. This joy will last for months and be talked about for years."
The Queen is sceptical. "One nod of your head? Show me."
So the Pope head-butts her.
*****************************************

My boss died last week. I went to his funeral today but his family asked me to leave. Apparently taking photos and throwing confetti is for weddings only.
*****************************************

My son said to me yesterday, "Dad, my mum reckons I get my intelligence from her, is that right?"

I replied, “Well, it must be, I've still got mine.”
*****************************************
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Old 21-12-2008, 04:13 PM   #777
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What do bakers do of a night?







pump cream into tarts :
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Old 22-12-2008, 04:59 PM   #778
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Arthur is 90 years old. He's played golf every day since his retirement 25
years ago. One day he arrives home looking downcast.
"That's it," he tells his wife. "I'm giving up golf. My eyesight has got so
bad that once I'd hit the ball I couldn't see where it went."
His wife sympathizes and makes him a cup of tea. As they sit down she says,
"Why don't you take my brother with you and give it one more try."
"That's no good" sighs Arthur. "Your brother's a hundred and three. He
can't help."
"He may be a hundred and three", says the wife, "but his eyesight is damn
near perfect."
So the next day Arthur heads off to the golf course with his
brother-in-law.
He tees up, takes an almighty swing and squints down the fairway.
He turns to the brother-in-law. "Did you see the ball, Herman?"
"Of course I did!" says Herman
"Where did it go?" says Arthur.
"I can't remember."
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While the basic Ford Six was code named Barra, the Turbo version clearly deserved its very own moniker – again enter Gordon Barfield.
We asked him if the engine had actually been called “Seagull” and how that came about.
“Actually it was just call “Gull”, because I named it that. Because we knew it was going to poo on everything”.
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Old 23-12-2008, 09:46 PM   #779
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A distinguished young woman on a flight from Ireland asked the Priest
beside her, "Father, may I ask a favor?"

"Of course. What may I do for you?"

"Well, I bought an expensive woman's electronic hair dryer for my mother's
birthday that is unopened and well over the Customs limits, and I'm afraid
they'll confiscate it. Is there any way you could carry it through Customs
for me? Under your robes perhaps?"

"I would love to help you, dear, but I must warn you: I will not lie."

"With your honest face, Father, no one will question you."

When they got to Customs, she let the priest go ahead of her. The official
asked, "Father, do you have anything to declare?"

"From the top of my head down to my waist, I have nothing to declare."

The official thought this answer strange, so asked, "And what do You have
to declare from your waist to the floor?"

"I have a marvelous instrument designed to be used on a woman, but which
is, to date, unused."
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FG G6ET 50th Anniversary in Sensation.
While the basic Ford Six was code named Barra, the Turbo version clearly deserved its very own moniker – again enter Gordon Barfield.
We asked him if the engine had actually been called “Seagull” and how that came about.
“Actually it was just call “Gull”, because I named it that. Because we knew it was going to poo on everything”.
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Old 25-12-2008, 09:32 PM   #780
Burnout
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Gabriel went to the Lord and said, "I have to talk to you. We have some
Aussies up here who are causing problems. They're swinging on the Pearly
Gates, my horn is missing, and they're wearing T-shirts instead of their
robes. There's barbecue sauce and tomato sauce all over everything,
especially their T-shirts. Their dogs are riding in the chariots and
chasing the sheep, they are wearing baseball caps and hats instead of
their halos. They refuse to keep the stairway to Heaven clean, and their
boots are marking and scuffing up the halls of Wisdom. There are
watermelon seeds and chip crumbs all over the place. Some of them are
walking around with just one wing, and they insist on bringing their cars
with them."

The Lord said, "Aussies are Aussies, Gabriel. Heaven is home to all of my
children. If you want to know about real problems, call the Devil."

So Gabriel calls the Devil who answers the phone and says, "Hello, hold on
a minute." When he returns to the phone the Devil says, "
O.K., I'm back. What can I do for you? "

Gabriel replied, "I just want to know what kind of problems you're having
down there with the Aussies"

The Devil said, "Hold on again. I need to check on something."

After about 5 minutes the Devil returned to the phone and said. "I'm back.
Now what was the question?"

Gabriel said, "What kind of problems are you having down there with the
Aussies?"

The Devil said, "Man, I don't believe this, hold on."

This time the Devil was gone 15 minutes and when he returns he says, "I'm
sorry Gabriel, I can't talk right now. Those Aussies have put out the
fires and are setting out to install air conditioning."
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FG G6ET 50th Anniversary in Sensation.
While the basic Ford Six was code named Barra, the Turbo version clearly deserved its very own moniker – again enter Gordon Barfield.
We asked him if the engine had actually been called “Seagull” and how that came about.
“Actually it was just call “Gull”, because I named it that. Because we knew it was going to poo on everything”.
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