Tag: humor
Need a Laugh?
I did. I got this in an email today and had to share:
Cheerleaders and Soldiers: Call Me Maybe
The Miami Dolphins Cheerleaders did a dance video to “Call Me Maybe.” U.S. troops stationed in Afghanistan saw it and did their own version, matching the cheerleaders scene-by scene. SO cool!!! Plus the Soldiers light off a four point deuce mortar as a point of punctuation. Soldiers win. Hands down!!! Here are the two videos together.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H96-TwrwY7M?rel=0]
Social Engineering
For once I had a kid listening to me. Cool! Then came my second proclamation “If you know math. I mean really know it. You can pin an employer on the ground and pull money out of their hands. And they’ll thank you for it.” The kid nodded. “You can do this when half of your peers are washing dishes and aspiring to become a Wal-Mart greeter.” The kid was drifting but I yammered on like the old fart that I am. She dozed the next few seconds and came to as I was finishing my monologue “…drive your enemies before you. That is what is good.”
The kid, sensing an opportunity, shoved another homework assignment my way. What’s this? It wasn’t algebra at all. I glanced around for an escape. There was none. I skimmed the paper.
“This,” I began, “is not math. It is social engineering.”
“Um…” The kid looked uncertain. “I don’t think they call it that.”
“Of course they don’t!” I groused. “They don’t call it bullshit either. Yet that’s what it is.”
“Er… What’s ‘social engineering’?” The kid asked.
“Social engineering is when an unqualified worker in the employment of the State takes it upon themselves to manipulate children as they see fit.” I sipped more coffee. “An activity formerly reserved for people deemed more appropriate, such as clergy or respected elders.” I reflected further “or sometimes cult leaders and gangs. Maybe Mafia leaders. You know what I’m saying?”
The kid looked at the paper. She did not know what I was saying.
“But I’ll help you. It’s time to see if your teacher has a sense of humor.”
From The Adaptive Curmudgeon’s Blog.
I want him to teach my grandkids algebra.
So, TSM has had a Recent Infestation…
…and as a result, I thought I’d post this bit of humor sent to me by my favorite Merchant-O’Death.
A US Navy cruiser anchored in Mississippi for a week’s shore leave. The first evening, the ship’s Captain received the following note from the wife of a very wealthy and influential plantation owner:
“Dear Captain, Thursday will be my daughter Melinda’s Debutante Ball. I would like you to send four well-mannered, handsome, unmarried officers in their formal dress uniforms to attend the dance.
They should arrive promptly at 8:00 PM prepared for an evening of polite Southern conversation. They should be excellent dancers, as they will be the escorts of lovely refined young ladies. One last point: No Jews please.”Sending a written message by his own yeoman, the captain replied:
Madam, thank you for your invitation. In order to present the widest possible knowledge base for polite conversation, I am sending four of my best and most prized officers.
One is a lieutenant commander and a graduate of Annapolis with an additional Masters degree from MIT in Fluid Dynamics and ship design.
The second is a Lieutenant, one of our helicopter pilots, and a graduate of Northwestern University in Chicago, with a BS in Aeronautical Engineering. His Masters Degree and PhD In Aeronautical and Mechanical Engineering
are from Texas Tech University and he is also an astronaut candidate.
The third officer is also a lieutenant, with degrees in both computer systems and information technology from SMU and he is awaiting notification on his Doctoral Dissertation from Cal Tech.
Finally, the fourth officer, also a lieutenant commander, is our ship’s doctor, with an undergraduate degree from the University of Georgia and his medical degree is from the University of North Carolina. We are very proud
of him, as he is also a senior fellow in Trauma Surgery at Bethesda Naval Hospital.
Upon receiving this letter, Melinda’s mother was quite excited and looked forward to Thursday with pleasure. Her daughter would be escorted by four handsome naval officers without peer (and the other women in her social
circle would be insanely jealous).
At precisely 8:00 PM on Thursday, Melinda’s mother heard a polite rap at the door which she opened to find, in full dress uniform, four very handsome, smiling Black officers.
Her mouth fell open, but pulling herself together, she stammered, “There must be some mistake!”
“No, Madam,” said the first officer. “Captain GOLDBERG doesn’t make mistakes.”
It’s an oldie, but a goodie!
And Now for Something Completely Different
No translation needed:
Quote of the Day – Arguing with Liberals Edition
From the first comment to this Newsbusters piece on Bill Maher:
Maher is a constant reminder that discussing anything with liberals is like playing chess with a pigeon……..they just crap all over the board and then strut in it as if they won something. — “chazzykc”
OK. I Hadn’t Heard That One!
I received a joke by email (I know, who does that?) I thought I’d share:
When Bill and Hillary first got married Bill said, “I am putting a box under the bed. You must promise never to look in it.”
In all their 30 years of marriage, Hillary never looked. On the afternoon of their 30th anniversary, curiosity got the best of her and she lifted the lid and peeked inside. In the box were 3 empty beer cans and $81,874.25 in cash.
She closed the box and put it back under the bed. Now that she knew what was in the box, she was doubly curious as to why there even was such a box with such contents. That evening, they were out for a special anniversary dinner.
After dinner, Hillary could no longer contain her curiosity and she confessed, saying, “I am so sorry, Bill. For all these years, I kept my promise and never looked into the box under our bed. However, today the temptation was too much and I gave in. But now I need to know, why do you keep the 3 beer cans in the box?”
Bill thought for a while and said, “I guess after all these years you deserve to know the truth. Whenever I was unfaithful to you, I put an empty beer can in the box under the bed to remind myself not to do it again.”
Hillary was shocked, but said, “Hmmm, Jennifer, Paula and Monica. I am very disappointed and saddened by your behavior. However, since you are addicted to sex I guess it does happen and I guess 3 times is not that bad considering your problem.”
Bill thanked her for being so understanding. They hugged and made their peace. A little while later Hillary asked Bill, “So why do you have all that money in the box?”
Bill answered: “Well, whenever the box filled up with empty cans, I took them to the recycling center and redeemed them for cash.”
Mystery Political Theater 3k
I don’t know how I missed this one when it was first posted in April of last year. Andrew Klavan and Bill Whittle skewer Obama’s The Road We’ve Traveled:
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2aR1ekUSfyU?rel=0]
FORWARD!
From The People’s Cube:
On the Lighter Side…
Via email:
The coach had put together the perfect team for the Chicago Bears. The only thing that was missing was a good quarterback. He had scouted all the colleges and even the Canadian and European Leagues, but he couldn’t find a ringer who could ensure a Super Bowl win.
Then one night while watching CNN he saw a war-zone scene in Afghanistan. In one corner of the background, he spotted a young Afghan soldier with a truly incredible arm. He threw a hand-grenade straight into a 15th story window 100 yards away!
KABOOM!
He threw another hand-grenade 75 yards, arcing it right into a chimney!
KA-BLOOEY!
Then he threw another into the driver’s window of a passing car going 90 mph!
BULLS-EYE!
“I’ve got to get this guy!” Coach said to himself. “He has the perfect arm!”
So, he hires an investigator to find out who this phenomenal arm belongs to, brings the man to the States and teaches him the great game of football. And the Bears go on to win the Super Bowl.
The young Afghan is hailed as the great hero of football, and when the coach asks him what he wants, all the young man wants is to call his mother.
“Mom,” he says into the phone, “I just won the Super Bowl!”
“I don’t want to talk to you, the old woman says.”You are not my son!”
“I don’t think you understand, Mother,” the young man pleads. “I’ve won the greatest sporting event in the world. I’m here among thousands of my adoring fans.”
“No! Let me tell you!” his mother retorts. “At this very moment, there are gunshots all around us. The neighborhood is a pile of rubble. Your two brothers were beaten within an inch of their lives last week, and I have to keep your sister in the house so she doesn’t get raped!” The old lady pauses, and then tearfully says,
“I will never forgive you for making us move to Chicago!!!!
Hey, it could have been Detroit.