[2993] in Humor
HUMOR: JoTD (mixed bag)
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Sharalee M. Field)
Mon Nov 8 17:47:18 1999
Date: Mon, 08 Nov 1999 17:38:28 -0500
To: humor@MIT.EDU, mowu@MIT.EDU, "MEGallagh@aol.com" <MEGallagh@aol.com>,
kris@speechcode.com, jbran18610@aol.com, dunbar@MIT.EDU, dahv@MIT.EDU,
mtsai@bqa.com, immer@MIT.EDU, jack.gingras@ae.ge.com,
tlawlor@palmerdodge.com, paul.n.leblanc@ae.ge.com,
bmendell@mediaone.net, nkahn@gph.com, GDeVoe@rimco.com,
"Jean, Marc (GEAE)" <marc.jean@ae.ge.com>, celia_kent@harvard.edu,
Maryellen Fitzgibbon <mfitzgib@fas.harvard.edu>,
cjwells@fas.harvard.edu,
Cheryl Guarino Buccelli <c_buccelli@harvard.edu>,
leite@fas.harvard.edu, Courtney Nichols <crnichol@fas.harvard.edu>,
wheger@bc-arch.com
From: "Sharalee M. Field" <sharalee_field@harvard.edu>
>Date: Fri, 05 Nov 1999 22:50:02 -0800
>From: jokeaday@jokeaday.com (Joke A Day)
>Subject: Joke A Day (November 6, 1999)
>
>One fine day, Jim and Bob are out golfing. Jim slices his ball
>deep into a wooded ravine. He grabs his 8-iron and proceeds
>down the embankment into the ravine in search of his ball.
>
>The brush is quite thick, but Jim searches diligently and
>suddenly he spots something shiny. As he gets closer, he
>realizes that the shiny object is in fact an 8-iron in the hands
>of a skeleton lying near an old golf ball.
>
>Jim excitedly calls out to his golfing partner: "Hey Bob, come
>here, I got trouble down here."
>
>Bob comes running over to the edge of the ravine and calls
>out: "What's the matter Jim?"
>
>Jim shouts back in a nervous voice:"Throw me my 7-iron!
>You can't get out of here with an 8-iron."
>
>--------------------------------------------------------------------------
>
>
>This guy wanted a parrot who talked. He asked the pet store
>manager if there was a bird who was already speaking. The
>manager directed the guy to a bird by the window. "This bird
>has a vocabulary of 1000 words and another 50 phrases that
>would fit most occasions."
>
>The guy bought the bird and took it home.
>
>Next day, the guy was back in the petstore to complain. The
>bird hadn't said a word.
>
>The pet store manager said, "That's not unusual. Why not
>buy a few of the toys the bird had been used to playing with
>while here and put it in his cage. That should get him more
>comfortable with his surroundings and loosen him up." The
>man paid for the toys and took them home to the bird.
>
>Two days later the guy showed back up. "Still not talking,
>huh?" asked the manager. "Well, perhaps a birdbath would
>do the trick." The credit card was whipped out, the purchase
>made, and the guy was back home with his new birdbath.
>
>And, like clockwork, two days later the guy was back to
>complain that the bird STILL hadn't said one word. This time
>the shop owner scratched his head and said, "You know,
>sometimes the bird would be praised in his training and
>allowed to ring this bell." The guy was hesitant, but he really
>wanted to hear the bird talk, so he reluctantly purchased the
>bell.
>
>Two days later, the guy was back in the shop. This time the
>pet shop owner suggested the bird was lonely. The guy was
>upset that he'd have to purchase ANOTHER bird when the
>first one wasn't talking. The pet shop owner told him that,
>no, he wouldn't have to do that. Just buy a mirror and trick
>the bird into thinking he had company.
>
>You guessed. Two days later, the man was back in the
>store, this time with the parrot. The parrot was dead. "What
>happened! Didn't the bird ever talk?" asked the pet store
>owner.
>
>"Yep. Right before he died it said, 'What's the matter? Don't
>they sell birdseed at the pet store any more?'"
>
>
>
>-------------------------------------------------------------------------
>
>Two nuns decide they're going to sneak out of the convent
>and have a real night on the town. They hit all the bars and
>dance clubs, and decide they've finally got to head back to
>the convent.
>
>To enter the convent's grounds they have to crawl under
>some barbed wire. The nuns start crawling under the wire on
>their bellies.
>
>As they're crawling under the wire, the first nun turns to the
>second and says, "I feel like a Marine."
>
>The second replies, "Yeah, me too, but where can you find
>one this time of night?"
>
>
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sharalee M. Field, Planning Analyst
Faculty of Arts and Sciences Planning Office
Harvard University
Ph: 617.495.8257 Fax: 617.495.7881
