Jokes of the Day

[Onyx]

Dear Mr. Baker,

As an employee of an institution of higher education, I have few very basic expectations. Chief among these is that my direct superiors have an intellect that ranges above the common ground squirrel. After your consistent and annoying harassment of my co-workers and me during our commission of duties, I can only surmise that you are one of the few true genetic wastes of our time.

Asking me, a network administrator, to explain every nuance of everything I do each time you happen to stroll into my office is not only a waste of time, but also a waste of precious oxygen. I was hired because I know how to network computer systems, and you were apparently hired to provide amusement to your employees, who watch you vainly attempt to understand the concept of "cut and paste" as it is explained to you for the hundredth time.

You will never understand computers. Something as incredibly simple as binary still gives you too many options. You will also never understand why people hate you, but I am going to try and explain it to you, even though I am sure this will be just as effective as telling you what an IP is. Your shiny new iMac has more personality than you ever will.

You wander around the building all day, shiftlessly seeking fault in others. You have a sharp dressed, useless look about you that may have worked for your interview, but now that you actually have responsibility, you pawn it off on overworked staff, hoping their talent will cover for your glaring ineptitude. In a world of managerial evolution, you are the blue-green algae that everyone else eats and laughs at. Managers like you are a sad proof of the Dilbert principle.

Seeing as this situation is unlikely to change without you getting a full frontal lobotomy reversal, I am forced to tender my resignation; however, I have a few parting thoughts:

1.

When someone calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal for you to give me a bad recommendation as I have consistently performed my duties and even more. The most you can say to hurt me is, "I prefer not to comment." To keep you honest, I will have friends randomly call you over the next couple of years, because I know you would be unable to do it on your own.
2.

I have all the passwords to every account on the system and I know every password you have used for the last five years. If you decide to get cute, I will publish your "Favorites," which I conveniently saved when you made me "back up" your useless files. I do believe that terms like "Lolita" are not viewed favorably by the university administrations.
3.

When you borrowed the digital camera to "take pictures of your mother's b-day," you neglected to mention that you were going to take nude pictures of yourself in the mirror. Then, like the techno-moron you are, you forgot to erase them. Suffice it to say, I have never seen such odd acts with a ketchup bottle. I assure you that those photos are being kept in safe places pending your authoring of a glowing letter of recommendation. (And, for once, would you please try to use spellcheck? I hate correcting your mistakes.)

I expect the letter of recommendation on my desk by 8:00 am tomorrow. One word of this to anybody and all of your twisted little repugnant obsessions will become public knowledge. Never f*ck with your systems administrator, Mr. Baker! They know what you do with all that free time!

Sincerely



David Blocker

Network Administrator

[baselineac]

this jewboy and his wife were over in jerusalem on a pilgrimage. when the jewboys wife dies
so the jewboy gets to the undertaker and starts making arrangements.
the undertaker tells the jewboy "if you bury your wife here, it will cost you $200...........but if you take her body back to the USA it will cost you $2000 " the jewboy thinks a while and insists on taking his wife back to the states, confused the undertaker asks."but why, it will cost so much money" to what the jewboy replies,"2000 years ago...you okes buried a guy here, 3 days later he got up...........dude! im not pushing my luck!!!!"

[Onyx]

Text of a letter from a kid from Eromanga to Mum and Dad. (For Those of you not in the know, Eromanga is a smalltown, west of Quilpie in the far south west of Queensland)


Dear Mum & Dad,

I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army is better than workin' on the farm - tell them to get in bloody quick smart before the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settling down at first, because ya don't hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I like sleeping in now, cuz all ya gotta do before brekky is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No bloody cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin'!! Ya haz gotta shower though, but its not so bad, coz there's lotsa hot water and even a light to see what ya doing!

At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks or possum stew like wot Mum makes. You don't get fed again until noon and by that time all the city boys are buggered because we've been on a 'route march' - geez its only just like walking to the windmill in the back paddock!!

This one will kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep getting medals for shootin' - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a bloody possum's bum and it don't move and it's not firing back at ya like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target - it's a piece of piss!! You don't even load your own cartridges, they comes in little boxes, and ya don't have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you reload!

Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home after the muster.

Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either and it looks like I'm the best the platoon's got, and I've only been beaten by this one bloke from the Engineers - he's 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pick handles across the shoulders and as ya know I'm only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin' wet, but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off to the boozer.

I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick before word gets around how bloody good it is.

Your loving daughter,

Sheila

[flycatchr]

only in OZ
LOL

[Paul]

The coach of the English rugby team and the Jake White both die and enter the Pearly Gates. God takes the english coach on a tour of heaven and ends up at a little two-bedroom bungalow with a faded English rugby banner hanging from the front porch.
"This is your house, " says God, "You're very lucky. Most people don't get their own houses up here, you know." He looks at the house, then turns around and looks at the huge mansion on top of the hill.

A massive, multi-storey affair with white marble columns, balconies and attractive gardens, South African banners line both sides of the footpath and a SA flag hangs between the marble columns.

"Thanks for the house, God," he says, "But let me ask you a question. How come I get this little two-bedroom bungalow Jake gets a huge mansion with all those marble columns and things." God looks at him seriously for a moment. God says. "That's my house."

[scicopathix]

[baselineac]

........................if at first you dont succeed .............................you not sucking hard enough

[baselineac]

what pisses a woman of more than when you walk into the house with mud on your shoes?.............................................................................



when you use the bedroom curtains as tissues after sex....................................

[scicopathix]

Don't be sexist.
Bitches hate that.

[baselineac]

why do women get their periods??

..........................just goes to prove god was man