Two Eskimos

[CozInCowtown]

There's an old
sea story about
a ship's Captain
who inspected his
sailors,
and afterward
told the first mate
that his men
smelled bad..

The Captain
suggested
perhaps it would
help if the sailors
would change underwear occasionally.

The first mate
responded,
"Aye, aye sir,

I'll see to it immediately!"



The first mate
went straight
to the sailors
berth deck and announced,



"The Captain
thinks you guys
smell bad and
wants you



to change your
underwear."

He continued,

"Pittman, you
change with Jones,

McCarthy, you
change with Witkowski,

and Brown, you
change with
Schultz."




THE MORAL
OF THE STORY:



Someone may come
along

and promise

"Change",
but don't count

on things
smelling any better.

[CozInCowtown]

MY LAST TRIP TO FOOD LION

Yesterday I was at my local Food Lion buying a large bag of Purina dog
chow for my loyal pet, Jake, the Wonder Dog and was in the check-out line
when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

What did she think I had an elephant?

So because I'm retired and have little to do, on impulse I told her that
no, I didn't have a dog, I was starting the Purina Diet again. I added
that I probably shouldn't, because I ended up in the hospital last time,
but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward
with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it
works is, to load your pants pockets with Purina Nuggets and simply eat
one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete
so it works well and I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here
that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story.)

Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care, because the dog food
poisoned me. I told her no, I stopped to pee on a fire hydrant and a car
hit me.

I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was
laughing so hard.

Food Lion won't let me shop there anymore. Better watch what you ask
fat old farts. They have all the time in the world to think of crazy
things to say.

[Cappy]

Coz, that one reminds me of a true story about checkin' out at Lowes one day. Here's da link:

http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blo...77646531644817

[CozInCowtown]

Heaven: Where cooks are French, mechanics are German, police are English, lovers are Italian and everything is organized by the Swiss.

Hell: Where cooks are English, mechanics are French, police are Germans, lovers are Swiss and everything is organized by the Italians.

[CozInCowtown]

A pastor's wife was expecting a baby, so he stood before the
congregation and asked for a raise. After much discussion, they passed a
rule that whenever the pastor's family expanded; so would his paycheck.

After 6 children, this started to get expensive and the
congregation decided to hold another meeting to discuss the pastor's
expanding salary.

A great deal of yelling and inner bickering ensued, as to how
much the pastor's additional children were costing the church, and how much
more it could potentially cost.


After listening to them for about an hour, the pastor rose
from his chair and spoke,


"Children are a gift from God, and we will take as many gifts
as He gives us."



Silence fell over the congregation.



In the back pew, a little old lady struggled to stand, and
finally said in her frail voice, "Rain is also a gift from God, but when we
get too much of it, we wear rubbers."

The entire congregation said, "Amen."

[wvbreamfisherman]

The really, really bad, terrible, awful day...

One Monday morning, this fellow woke up...the power had gone off during the night, and his alarm clock hadn't gone off, so he was going to be late for work.

This was bad because his boss had threatened to fire him if he was late one more time.

He struggled out of bed to find that he could only take a cold shower because the water heater didn't work due to the power outage. He managed that, and only cut himself 5 or six times when he tried to shave.

Finally, he started to get dressed, only to put his foot thropugh the end of one sock, and then to break a shoelace.

Once he got dressed, he headed out into the rain. First he tripped on the top step, and fell, tearing the knee of his slacks, and breaking his umbrella. Then his car battery was dead, and he had to wait for the auto club to come and jump start him.

Once he got the car started, he rushed to work, only to be stopped twice by the cops, once for speeding, and once for running a stop sign.

Finally, he arrived at work. He had to park far out in the parking lot, and got further soaked running through the rain to the door.

He opened the door carefully,, and sneaked through, trying to make it to his cubicle quietly.

He didn't make it out of the lobby. His boss caught him and read him the riot act. "You're fired! I might have given you yet one more chance, but you come in late, looking like you've been on a three-week drunk, and living under a bridge while you did it!! I won't have you making this office look like a drunk tank!!! God clean out your desk and get the Hell out of here, we'll mail you your last check!!"

Well the guy's pretty well rushed, so he finds a cardboard box and gets his few, pitiful personal things out of his desk while his former co-workers look on.

Leaving the office, he starts out into the parking lot, where he steps into a deep pothole, and goes flat on his face. His stuff goes flying, and he gets his whole front soaked and muddy.

Almost sobbing now, he gathers his stuff puts in back in the soggy box and trudges off to his car.

The battery's almost flat again, but he managed to get it going. He drives slowly home, being very careful, since he can't afford any more tickets.

He's about 5 miles from home when he stops behind a car at a traffic light. He's waiting for the light to change, when he hears an awful shriek of skidding tires.

Before he can do anything, he's hit from behind by a drunk in a beat up old pickup. The impact slams him into the car in front of him.

Shaking from the reaction, he manages for force upen his door, only to be confronted by a belligerant drunk who screams at him for causing the wreck, and then begins punching him over and over.

The cops arrive, and pull them apart, cuff everybody, and proceed to investigate things.

Well, the drunk was driving on a revoked license, in an unlicensed vehicle, and had no insurance.

Our friend's car is a total loss, and has to be towed away.

The cops were nice enough to help him get his stuff out of the wreck, and drop him at home.

They help him onload all his stuff from the car in front of his garage, and drive off.

He opens the garage and starts carrying his stuff inside. As he turns around on his second trip he steps on a rake that someone left leaning agaist the wall. The handle swings up and smacks him square on the nose, breaking it,nd causing it to bleed profusely.

Cursing, he stumbles back and trips over a floor jack. He lands on his back, and the back of his head smacks the concrete floor, causing him to black out for a few seconds.

He comes to, manages to sit up and feels the back of his head. His hand comes away wet with blood from a gash in his scalp.

Cursing even louder, he finds a dirty rag and holds it against the back of his head.

After a bit, he feels well enough to try to make it in the house. He only falls once while walking across the breezeway, and tears the other knee out of his slacks.

After fumbling through all his keys, he finally gets the kitchen door open.

He stumbles to the sink and washed his hands and face and gets a couple of dish towels out.

He uses them to make two ice bags, one for his nose, and one for the back of his head.

The cold helps him feel a little better, and he decides to take a shower before going to the emergency room to see if he needs stitches.

Holding his head together with the ice bags, he walks in the living room and over to the stairs. Just before how starts up the steps, He hears the bedspring on his bed creaking, and his wife moaning with pleasure. Enraged, her starts up the steps slowly, quietly, wanting to see just what is going on.

He gets to the top of the steps and tiptoes down the hall, feeling sicker by the minute. His wife is now screaming in the throes of an orgasm.

Finally, he gets to the bedroom door. It's open a crack, and he peeks in, only to see his wife in bed with his best friend!

Enraged, he kicks the dooor open and begins screaming at his wife., "You whore, you slut, you Bi**h!!! I've just had the worst day of my life! I lost my job, My car is totaled.and the guy who did it doesn't have insurance!! I look like I was on the losing end of a fight with Mike Tyson! I got two traffic tickets and have no idea how to pay them!!"

"All this, and I come home only to find my total slut of a wife in bed with my best friend!! I want you out of here- I ought to beat you bloody and throw you out naked, but I won't! Get your clothes and get out! I never want to see your face again. My lawyer will be in touch with you!!!"

His wife crawled out of bed and slinks out of the room.

He turns to his best friend and says.......



(wait for it)...












"And, as for you....BAD DOG!! BAD DOG!!!!!"

[CozInCowtown]

ACTUAL PASSPORT APPLICATION LETTER SENT BACK TO STATE DEPARTMENT


Dear Mrs. Ms. Or Sir:


I'm in the process of renewing my passport and still cannot believe this.


How is it that Radio Shack has my address and telephone number and knows that I bought a cable TV from them in 1987 (23 years ago), and yet, the Federal Government is still asking me where I was born and on what date.


For #$@ist sakes, do you guys do this by hand? Ever heard of computers?


My birth date you have in my social security file. It's on EVERY income tax form I've filed for the past 30 years. It's on my Medicare health insurance card and my driver's license, it's on the last eight damn passports I've had, it's on every stupid customs declaration form I've had to fill out before being allowed off the plane for the last 30 years. And it's on all those census forms that we have to do at election times.


Would somebody please take note, once and for all, that my mother's name is Maryanne, my father's name is Robert and I'm reasonably confident that neither name is likely to change between now and when I die.


Between you an' me, I've had enough of this bureaucratic bullsh##!


You send the application to my house, then you ask me for my #*&#%*& address.


What is going on? You must have a gang of bureaucratic Neanderthalmorons working there!


Look at my da#$ picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? And "No," I don't want to dig up YasserArafat, for #$it sakes. I just want to go and park my a@@ on a sandy beach. And would someone please tell me, why would you give a da#$ whether I plan on visiting a farm in the next 15 days?


If I ever got the urge to do something weird to a chicken or a goat, believe you me, I'd sure as he## not want to tell anyone!


Well, I have to go now because I have to go to the other end of the city and get another #*@&#^@*@& copy of my birth certificate to the tune of $100.


Would it be so difficult to have all the services in the same area so I could get a new passport the same day? Nooooo, that would require planning and organization. And it would be too logical for the @&^*^%@% government.


You'd rather have us running all over the place like chickens with our heads cut off. Then, we have to find some a##hole to confirm that it's really me in the da$$ picture - you know, the one where we're not allowed to smile...Hey, you know why we can't smile?


We're totally pi$$ed off!


Signed


- An Irate Citizen.


P.S. Remember what I wrote about getting someone to confirm that the picture is me? Well, my family has been in the United States of America since 1776. I have served in the military for something over 35 years and have had security clearances up the yingyang. However, I have to get someone important to verify who I am - you know, someone like my doctor....WHO WAS BORN AND RAISED IN INDIA !


And you a##holes want to run our health care system?????

[CozInCowtown]

A couple is in bed sleeping when there's a rat-a-tat-tat on the door.
The husband rolls over and looks at the clock, and it's half past 3 in the morning.” I’m not getting out of bed at this time," he thinks, and rolls over. Then, a louder knock follows. So he drags himself out of bed, goes downstairs, opens the door, and there's a man standing there. It didn't take the homeowner long to realize th
e man was drunk.
"Hi there," slurs the stranger, "Can you give me a push?" "No, get lost. It's half past three and I was in bed," says the man as he slams the door. He goes back up to bed and tell his wife what happened and she says, "That wasn't very nice of you. Remember that night we broke down in the pouring rain on the way to pick the kids up from the baby-sitter and you had to knock on that man's house to get us started again? What would have happened if he'd told us to get lost?"
"But the guy was drunk," says the husband.
"It doesn't matter," says the wife.” He needs our help and it would be the Christian thing to help him." So the husband gets out of bed again, gets dressed, and goes downstairs.
He opens the door, and not being able to see the stranger anywhere,
He shouts, "Hey, do you still want a push?"
And he hears a voice cry out, "Yeah, please."
So, still being unable to see the stranger he shouts, "Where are you?" The drunk replies, "Over here, on the swing."

[Marshmallow]

I love this! Thanks for sharing. Isn't it nice to have a clean little joke to be able to tell the kids. My little ones will love it, especially the 9-year-old.

[Grandpa]

Originally Posted by Marshmallow

I love this! Thanks for sharing. Isn't it nice to have a clean little joke to be able to tell the kids. My little ones will love it, especially the 9-year-old.

Not sure if I would worry too much about the little ones. A friend has a lot of bees. In the fall, when he is very busy, I help out with extracting the honey. The other day his daughter come in to see what I was doing. Sometimes there are still live bees in the supers with the honey. A different shade of bee came crawling out of the box so I asked his daughter, what kind of bee is that. She replied, "a drone." So I asked her what a drone bee did and her reply; " oh, they just hang around the hive being onery, living off the working bees and having sex with the queen." Bureaucracy at its finest I guess. And nothing gets past the kids.