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Things that make you laugh...

In answer to someone's question, Missy called her husband and said she had a passenger needing a ride home.
"Looks? Oh, five foot ten, 250 pounds, balding, but a nice beard and... What?"
By an amazing coincidence, he discovered RIGHT then that the car wouldn't start.

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hahaha! That really cracked me up. Sounds like the wife has a great sense of humor. Your stories are the best!

Keith&Co, I agree with hylidae. The more I read of your stories, the more I like you and I think you and your wife are well suited. :D
Well, i always felt that if i ended up crying to a bartender it wouldn't quite be the cliche.
No, in my case, i'd whine 'My wife DOES understand me....'

You and Mrs &Co sound like you would be good company for dinner. :D
 
You and Mrs &Co sound like you would be good company for dinner. :D
Oh, sure, people SAY that, and the first half-hour is entertaining but then the host or hostess will make a pun and our brains say two things at once:
1) Puns are OKAY in this house!
2) We must show our appreciation for their pun by making a hundred of our own!

and a half hour later, we clear the hedge, their dog nipping at our heels, hoping we can circle back around to our car before they let the air out of the tires, or before the cops park us in, like at Mom's place.
 
You and Mrs &Co sound like you would be good company for dinner. :D
Oh, sure, people SAY that, and the first half-hour is entertaining but then the host or hostess will make a pun and our brains say two things at once:
1) Puns are OKAY in this house!
2) We must show our appreciation for their pun by making a hundred of our own!

and a half hour later, we clear the hedge, their dog nipping at our heels, hoping we can circle back around to our car before they let the air out of the tires, or before the cops park us in, like at Mom's place.

Oh Sweet - PUNS!!! I must invite my brother and Father to join us then. Believe me, a pun fest is what usually happens at our family dinners. :D
 
So, i work for a government contractor, in a building that used to be an assembly line for the gun turrets of the Bradley APC.
To shift the factory over to an engineering company, they divided up the building from one big, long, empty vault, to a big, long, empty vault with little buildings here and there. Inside the little buildings, you have offices and carpeting and partitioned cubicles. Between the little buildings are odd spaces, dusty equipment, cranes, power and air connections for equipment that's no longer here, flooring where the linoleum is worn out in a path going around workbenches that have been removed, floors warped from the weight of the assembly line, and an area that's either where they parked leaky forklifts or performed dark sacrifices, no one's sure. They mostly maintain or remodel the office areas and pretend the 'between' spaces will be updated by osmosis....

One of our newest interns complained about how the school he attends is of recent manufacture and modern design, while he works "in a building that, from the outside, looks like a place where they might have filmed the movie Saw.'

He expected sympathy, i guess. Wrong business.

"You think it looks like a Saw setting from the outside?" I asked. "I take it no one's shown you the hallway going past the old welder's locker room? Come on, you gotta see this."
Someone mentioned another part of the building where he always thought they'd filmed 8-legged freaks....

Now the intern's afraid to go anywhere alone. I've started calling him 'Bart,' for that Simpson's episode where Bart kept mumbling 'Can't sleep, clown'll eat me. Can't sleep, clown'll eat me.' I'm trying to figure a way to play the JAWS theme near his desk...
 
Finnish Scrabble must be a real bitch.

Actually, wouldn't that make it easier?

There was a Spitting Image skit where Momar Qaddafi was winning at Scrabble, and all he was doing was to play yet another way the Western Media had spelled his name. "Kadhoffee?"
"Look it up. World News, March 1986."
"I guess you win again, oh mighty one....."
 
You could set up a .wav file in his startup programs. He starts his computer and it starts playing. And you could wait nearby with a big fin, and when it starts playing, you can go down the rows of cubicles with the fin.
 
You could set up a .wav file in his startup programs. He starts his computer and it starts playing. And you could wait nearby with a big fin, and when it starts playing, you can go down the rows of cubicles with the fin.
The startup programs probably require admin privileges. Jealously guarded on company assets.

I can run the cable from his speakers to my computer, though. I just need an extension.
And someone to turn the lights off at the right moment...
 
Actually, wouldn't that make it easier?

There was a Spitting Image skit where Momar Qaddafi was winning at Scrabble, and all he was doing was to play yet another way the Western Media had spelled his name. "Kadhoffee?"
"Look it up. World News, March 1986."
"I guess you win again, oh mighty one....."

Proper nouns are not allowed in Scrabble.

/humorless pedant
 
There was a Spitting Image skit where Momar Qaddafi was winning at Scrabble, and all he was doing was to play yet another way the Western Media had spelled his name. "Kadhoffee?"
"Look it up. World News, March 1986."
"I guess you win again, oh mighty one....."

Proper nouns are not allowed in Scrabble.

/humorless pedant
They are in the official rules for Scrabble: Cooking Edition
http://www.overstock.com/Sports-Toys/Scrabble-Cooking-Edition/7281204/product.html
/Recently got his ass kicked playing Scrabble: Cooking Edition with his never-to-be-sufficiently-damned kids


I imagine they're also allowed in the Playing Against A Tyrant Who Will Shoot You For Saying He's Wrong edition.
 
So, i work for a government contractor, in a building that used to be an assembly line for the gun turrets of the Bradley APC.
To shift the factory over to an engineering company, they divided up the building from one big, long, empty vault, to a big, long, empty vault with little buildings here and there. Inside the little buildings, you have offices and carpeting and partitioned cubicles. Between the little buildings are odd spaces, dusty equipment, cranes, power and air connections for equipment that's no longer here, flooring where the linoleum is worn out in a path going around workbenches that have been removed, floors warped from the weight of the assembly line, and an area that's either where they parked leaky forklifts or performed dark sacrifices, no one's sure. They mostly maintain or remodel the office areas and pretend the 'between' spaces will be updated by osmosis....

One of our newest interns complained about how the school he attends is of recent manufacture and modern design, while he works "in a building that, from the outside, looks like a place where they might have filmed the movie Saw.'

He expected sympathy, i guess. Wrong business.

"You think it looks like a Saw setting from the outside?" I asked. "I take it no one's shown you the hallway going past the old welder's locker room? Come on, you gotta see this."
Someone mentioned another part of the building where he always thought they'd filmed 8-legged freaks....

Now the intern's afraid to go anywhere alone. I've started calling him 'Bart,' for that Simpson's episode where Bart kept mumbling 'Can't sleep, clown'll eat me. Can't sleep, clown'll eat me.' I'm trying to figure a way to play the JAWS theme near his desk...

Just start saying 'Daaadum (pause), daaadum, daaadum, daaadum' in the Jaws manner whenever you are going past. And say you have this tune in your head.... :D
 
Actually, wouldn't that make it easier?

There was a Spitting Image skit where Momar Qaddafi was winning at Scrabble, and all he was doing was to play yet another way the Western Media had spelled his name. "Kadhoffee?"
"Look it up. World News, March 1986."
"I guess you win again, oh mighty one....."

That's completely different, though.

When trying to "spell" words in the phonetic Latin alphabet from a language that uses a different alphabet, the spelling is inevitably going to change from time to time because no one spelling in the Latin alphabet is going to get it quite right.
 
The Commanding Officer of my second shore command hated smoking and as soon as he could, made Guided Missiles School a smoke-free facility. No one could smoke in the building and they closed the smoking-area lounges in the back.
So people went to their cars to smoke.

The CO made it illegal to smoke on GMS property. So staff and students had to actually have their car in motion, driving around the base, in order to smoke.

Not everyone had cars. So one of the instructors had a huge van. He ran a service that would pick you up at the front door to the three main buildings, drive a circle to the back gate and back to the front door, charging some amount for the nicotine enhanced ride to nowhere.

It's already illegal in the Navy to buy tobacco for others, the CO made it illegal to profit from other people smoking. So the van driver charged people to listen to the stereo system in his van. Smoking was allowed while you did. The CO finally found a way to stop that, details were not made public, though i suspect he made a deal to get the driver a desired billet. Teaching sailing to midshipmen, or something like that.

Anyway, he finally had a completely smoke-free school.

He also had a habit where he would check the schedule for instruction and appear in a classroom to monitor the training. One day he showed up for a class and no one was in the room. Okay, fine, they're on a break. CO and the Command Master Chief waited. Breaks are supposed to be 10 minutes, they were there, waiting, for 11.
They went to find the Senior Chief in charge of that phase of training. As far as he knew, the class was in session. They found the supervisor of that course. As far as he knew, they should be in there, they had no labs scheduled.
Finally, the instructor walks into the room. The class has been missing for 20 - 25 minutes at this point. "Where is your class?"
"They're on break."
"Breaks are ten minutes. Where is your class?"
"Oh, well, they keep coming up with these rules, makes it harder and harder for them to smoke. So if i put them on break, they've got to walk all the way over to their barracks and the smoking lounge there, smoke a cigarette, then walk alll the way back... If i didn't give them a half hour, they'd hardly be able to smoke!"
 
So i stopped for milk on the way home.
There was some sort of fight in the back of the store. I didn't pay any attention until a woman shouted, "Did you hear that? He called me FAT! I'm not FAT!"
"No," a man's voice said, "you're not fat, you're pregnant. That makes you beautiful."
There was a cold silence. Finally, "I'm not pregnant, you fucker."
"Oh."
By this point the guy at the counter is giving me change. "I think it's time to leave," I said.
"Take me with you? I don't want to mop up blood!"
 
I guess the first part of solving a problem lies identifying where the actual problem is.

A kid at Target was walking with Mom, Dad and a sibling in a stroller. He held a toy playset full of STUFF! He was reading off the STUFF off as they walked towards checkout.
"An it's got a TRACTOR! An it's got a CHICKEN! An it's got a WATER BUCKET!"
"That's great," Dad says. "And you're going to share, right?"
Kid stops in his tracks. "YOu're buying this for me."
"Yes, but you have to share."
"Why?"
"Because i'm paying for it, so i say you have to share."
Kid stares at the playset, not moving, as the rest of the family goes on. He realyl wants the playset, but sure as hell doesn't want to share. Finally he gets a big smile on his face and runs after. "You could call Grandpa for the money!" he shouts.

Problem solved....
 
On the way back to my car from Target, i passed a man with ihs small son.
Kid was running towards a huge puddle.
Dad shouts: Go around the puddle!"
Kid obeys. Goes the long way around the puddle and stands there, waiting. Dad steps over the end... Just as the kid gets a huge smile on his face and runs to jump into the middle of the puddle.
Well, you never said, DON'T jump inthe puddle... And he DID do what you said....
 
it's a common practice in the Navy that when you get an award near the end of your tour at a command, it's delayed and sent to your next command. That way, the first time the new Commanding Officer sees you, it's to hand you something that says you're a great guy. Or at least get an attaboy.

For one of my transfers, they screwed up and instead of sending it to my next actual service command, it showed up at a training school i was attending on the way. A four-week leadership course, with sailors from several different parts of the Navy attending.

My first Good Conduct medal appeared during the second week.
The Good Conduct is awarded after you complete four years of good service, with good evals, no arrests, no sleeping with the daughter of anyone of the rank of Commander or higher.

After I was presented with it, I sat back down at my table, and mentioned, 'Well, that's 4 years of not getting caught.' A female Boatswain's Mate at my table went beserk.

'SOME people worked HARD for that damn medal, keeping their nose clean, keeping OTHER people's noses clean, earning the eval points, and watching the chief's back! SOME people don't like to hear the medal referred to that way! Especially when it would have been real easy to just go along with everyone else! And SOMETIMES you probably really got caught, but the officer thought you were worth looking the other way and letting it slide!'

I looked at the other 3 sub sailors at the table. All of them had GC's.
'I didn't get caught.'
'I didn't get caught.' and the MS: 'Oh, I got caught, but I blackmailed my way out of it.'

The bosun asked to change tables.
 
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