entsurgeon
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The Spoon
(A timeless lesson on how consultants can make a difference for an organization and its clients.)
Last week, we took some friends out to a new restaurant, and noticed that the waiter who took our order carried a spoon in his shirt pocket. It seemed a little strange, but I ignored it. However when the busboy brought out water and utensils, I noticed he also had a spoon in his shirt pocket, then I looked around the room and saw that all the staff had spoons in their pockets.
When the waiter came back to serve our soup I asked, "Why the spoon?"
"Well," he explained, "the restaurant's owners hired Anderson Consulting, experts in efficiency, in order to revamp all our processes. After several months of statistical analysis, they concluded that the spoon was the most frequently dropped utensil. This represents a drop frequency of approximately 3 spoons per table per hour. If our personnel are prepared to deal with that contingency, we can reduce the number of trips back to the kitchen and save 15 man-hours per shift.
As luck would have it I dropped my spoon and he was able to replace it with his spare spoon. "I'll get another spoon next time I go to the kitchen instead of making an extra trip to get it right now." I was rather impressed.
I noticed that there was a very thin string hanging out of the waiter's fly. Looking around, I noticed that all the waiters had the same string hanging from their flies. My curiosity got the better of me and before he walked off, I asked the waiter, "Excuse me, but can you tell me why you have that string right there?"
"Oh certainly!" he answered, lowering his voice. "Not everyone is as observant as you. That consulting firm I mentioned also found out that we can save time in the restroom." "How so?" "See," he continued, "by tying this string to the tip of your you know what, we can pull it out over the urinal without touching it and that way eliminate the need to wash the hands, shortening the time spent in the restroom by 76.39 percent."
After you get it out, how do you put it back?"
"Well," he whispered, lowering his voice even further, "I don't know about the others, but I use the spoon."
KEEP SMILING and WISH YOU ALL A VERY HAPPY and PROSPEROUS NEW YEAR!!!
(A timeless lesson on how consultants can make a difference for an organization and its clients.)
Last week, we took some friends out to a new restaurant, and noticed that the waiter who took our order carried a spoon in his shirt pocket. It seemed a little strange, but I ignored it. However when the busboy brought out water and utensils, I noticed he also had a spoon in his shirt pocket, then I looked around the room and saw that all the staff had spoons in their pockets.
When the waiter came back to serve our soup I asked, "Why the spoon?"
"Well," he explained, "the restaurant's owners hired Anderson Consulting, experts in efficiency, in order to revamp all our processes. After several months of statistical analysis, they concluded that the spoon was the most frequently dropped utensil. This represents a drop frequency of approximately 3 spoons per table per hour. If our personnel are prepared to deal with that contingency, we can reduce the number of trips back to the kitchen and save 15 man-hours per shift.
As luck would have it I dropped my spoon and he was able to replace it with his spare spoon. "I'll get another spoon next time I go to the kitchen instead of making an extra trip to get it right now." I was rather impressed.
I noticed that there was a very thin string hanging out of the waiter's fly. Looking around, I noticed that all the waiters had the same string hanging from their flies. My curiosity got the better of me and before he walked off, I asked the waiter, "Excuse me, but can you tell me why you have that string right there?"
"Oh certainly!" he answered, lowering his voice. "Not everyone is as observant as you. That consulting firm I mentioned also found out that we can save time in the restroom." "How so?" "See," he continued, "by tying this string to the tip of your you know what, we can pull it out over the urinal without touching it and that way eliminate the need to wash the hands, shortening the time spent in the restroom by 76.39 percent."
After you get it out, how do you put it back?"
"Well," he whispered, lowering his voice even further, "I don't know about the others, but I use the spoon."
KEEP SMILING and WISH YOU ALL A VERY HAPPY and PROSPEROUS NEW YEAR!!!
How to Tell the Sex of a Fly
This is the cleanest E-mail joke
I've come across in a long while!
A woman walked into the kitchen to find her
husband stalking around with a fly swatter
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"Hunting Flies" He responded.
"Oh. ! Killed any so far ??" She asked.
"Yep, 3 males, 2 Females," he replied.
Intrigued, she asked.
"How can you tell them apart?"
He responded,
"3 were on a beer can,
2 were on the phone.
This is the cleanest E-mail joke
I've come across in a long while!
A woman walked into the kitchen to find her
husband stalking around with a fly swatter
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"Hunting Flies" He responded.
"Oh. ! Killed any so far ??" She asked.
"Yep, 3 males, 2 Females," he replied.
Intrigued, she asked.
"How can you tell them apart?"
He responded,
"3 were on a beer can,
2 were on the phone.
Dr. Kishore Shah is a renowned Gynecologist practicing in Pune. He is a prolific writer. Humor is his forte.
The following article is in his own words about the MI he had suffered few days back.
I suffered a heart attack about 5 days ago. Here is my account of what happened:
As I was rushed to the Cardiac ICU, I just had this sinking feeling in my heart. Just like the one before you enter the Viva Voce hall and see the most khadoos examiner in place, only worse.
The resident there was quite courteous, "Sir, How are you feeling?"
I looked at him groggily and whispered, "Just like Rakhi Sawant!"
He looked at me perplexed. I continued and said, "I feel an unnatural weight on my chest."
The resident didn't know whether to send me off to the Psychiatry ward or not. I said, "Aare Baba, ECG nikal, nahi toh main nikal jaoonga!"
The funniest part of my heart attack, or "cardiac event" as the doctor there insisted on calling it, was that there was no pain. That would comeafterwards when they presented me the bill. But for now I was painless.
"Do you smoke?" persisted the resident.
"I have never tried burning myself, but probably would." My wife nudged me and intervened, "He does not smoke or drink. Just keeps cracking these pointless PJs."
The resident promptly scribbled something on the pad. He probably wrote that the patient was delirious. After peering with screwed eyes at my ECG he said, "Q wave changes."
I said, "I give up. You tell me."
"What?"
"I don't know Kyon wave changes. You tell me."
The resident stopped telling me anything else. He turned to my wife and said, "It seems to be a minor infarct."
I don't know what it is with doctors. How can you call any heart infarct minor? If there is an infarct, it is a major thing, at least for the patient. There was also some depressing talk about ST depressions. Here I felt as if an ST bus was driving over my chest, who bothered whether that ST
was depressed or happy?
I was immediately admitted to the ICCU and posted for an Angiography the next day. One piece of advice to all Cardiac care units: If you do not want your heart patients to have any further attacks, do not appoint such lovely
young nurses. Most of the nurses in the entire world are from Kerala. If all the nurses return home, all the hospitals in the world will come to a stop..
And there will be no standing space in Kerala.
There were big notices posted outside the door of the ICCU. "No Visitors" and no "No Mobiles". Okay, so there would be no breaking news dispatches from me. Soon a pretty, young Malyali nurse came and told me "Gaana Gaaneka nai."
This came as a shock to me. Not that I wanted to break out into a song and dance routine. I could understand that visitors might disturb the patient,or even the mobiles. But songs? How could anyone be so unmusical? I said
Okay but was a bit miffed.
After many pricks and monitors on my body, half an hour later another pretty young thing came and told me "Gaana Gaaneka nai!"
I was a bit angry. I said, "Yeah! Yeah! Someone told me before also." But this really intrigued me. Why were they so strict about songs? If they had said that I could not dance due to my heart condition, I could have accepted
that. But never in my long medical education had I been warned that singing was bad for cardiac health. I wondered if this was a new advance.
The mystery was cleared when the next Malyali sister, who appeared to be their head nurse, came and explained to me, "Doctor Shah, Aap ka blood samble subay saat ko hai. Toh abi Gaana Gaaneka nai. Phir Kaali pet samble
lene ke baad Gaana Gaaneka."
I immediately added an interpreter to my mental suggestion box. It must be really tough to interpret Gaana as Khaana. But the Mallus can't help their accent.
After a relatively painless night, mainly because relatives were not allowed, and also due to the various drips and things, I woke up to the prick of a blood 'Samble'. Then I was allowed to 'Gaana Gaaneko'.
All the tests gave worse and worse news. There was an inferior wall infarct which the Cardiologist insisted on calling minor. (I hoped he would remember this while billing me.) My Trop T was raised. In short, this is a help call
from the heart. I was posted for angiography and an SOS plasty the nest day after stabilization.
On the morning of the procedure, I got the shock of my life, when a grim looking man entered my room and sent my wife out. He then locked the room and took out a large and sharp glistening razor. Omigosh! This was not how
they performed operations, at least not during the last century. Or was this a scene from an assassin movie? The man then turned to me and smiled and said that he had come to shave me for the procedure.
I sighed with relief. One always wants to look nice and presentable for important occasions even if they be the gallows. I smiled back at him and jutted out my chin at him for easy access. But he ignored my chin and pulled
down my pajamas. I shrieked, "Hey, Its my heart that is amiss."
"Yes Sir. We need to shave your groin!" Groan Groan!
Five minutes later, I was all spick and span and presentable for my planned procedure. Calling it a procedure, reduces the fear factor from it. If you
call it an operation, which it is, you might suffer a further attack. If you call it a butchery, which it sometimes can be, then you need not go to the procedure. I proceeded with a sinking heart, if it could sink any more, to the operation room, which they call a cath lab. It's all about euphemism.
When I entered the 'Cath lab', I found it extremely cold. Was the AC at full blast or was I frightened or was my heart not pumping enough blood? Probably all three. There was soft music playing hindi songs in the background. The nurse told me to remove all my clothes and lie down on a
narrow table. I have already mentioned the weather conditions, so it did not help that here I was completely nude like a fresh plucked chicken, lying on a table, with half my respective buttocks spilling out of the respective
sides of the table. The AC vent was directed towards the exact centre of my body. Now I regretted not taking all those ads on the internet about increasing the length of various body parts seriously. If I had, today I would have been a proud man. But sadly, as of now, I think the OT staff
there will remember me whenever they eat dried dates.
The Hindi song playing was "Haste Gaate yahan se gujar, Duniya ki tu parwa na kar." That was very kind of my namesake Kishoreda to remind me how to face this ordeal. But I was very frightened. His next verse also told me,
"Maut ani hai ayegi ek din, Jaan jaani hai jaayegi ek din, Aisi baton se kya ghabarana, Yaha kal kya ho kisne jaana?" I almost burst out yodeling along with him . OOdle di OOd le di Ooo oo.
The anesthetist approached me and saw me smiling. He was confused. Was this guy so frightened that he was smiling? How could I tell him that I was marveling at Kishoreda's accurate advice to me, a smaller Kishore Kumar.
Then came the good part. Many layers of warm clothes were laid on me. I was shivering, but no longer like the Antarctica. It was more like Shimla now.
The Cardiologist told me that I would now feel a little pain in my groin.
Most appropriately, the song playing now was "Dil hai kaha aur Dard kaha". I smiled and said, "Yes Boss. Go ahead."
I won't go into the gruesome details, but what was visible to me and the entire team there was that my Right Coronary artery was nearly completely
blocked. The doctor said, "Yes, a stent will be required. Dr. Shah, should we insert an Endeavor drug eluting stent?"
I felt ashamed to admit to him that I didn't know a thing about stents. Being a Gynaecologist, I only knew about stunts. So I asked him, "What isthe difference between this one and the other one?" I didn't know the name
of the other one, so I cloaked it in the anonymity of 'the other one'. He said, "There are many differences, but the main one is in the price."
"Then I think you should ask my wife, because she is the one with the purse as well as the purse strings."
After a brief consultation, my wife decided that her husband was after all worth a bit more than this costly stent. But the effect was magical. In front of my eyes, I could see a withered autumn tree of heart vasculature suddenly burst out in full spring glory of new tributaries.
Thus I came out of the 'lab' a new and reborn man. It seemed as if I had thrown off my school shirt and worn a new comfy and roomy one. It was as if I had exchanged Adnan Sami's new shirt for his older ones. No more tightness around the chest. The song playing in the lab when I came out was appropriately "Aaj Main jawaan ho gayi hoon. Gul se gulistan ho gayi hoon."
When I returned home from the hospital after paying the bill, I realized that the old proverb was probably coined by a cardiologist. Which proverb?
It's the one that says:
Jaan bachi, Lakho paye.
Thus my heart tried to spring me a surprise. So I surprised it with a spring
into my heart. Now I walk with a spring in my step and one in my heart too!
Kishore Shah
The following article is in his own words about the MI he had suffered few days back.
I suffered a heart attack about 5 days ago. Here is my account of what happened:
As I was rushed to the Cardiac ICU, I just had this sinking feeling in my heart. Just like the one before you enter the Viva Voce hall and see the most khadoos examiner in place, only worse.
The resident there was quite courteous, "Sir, How are you feeling?"
I looked at him groggily and whispered, "Just like Rakhi Sawant!"
He looked at me perplexed. I continued and said, "I feel an unnatural weight on my chest."
The resident didn't know whether to send me off to the Psychiatry ward or not. I said, "Aare Baba, ECG nikal, nahi toh main nikal jaoonga!"
The funniest part of my heart attack, or "cardiac event" as the doctor there insisted on calling it, was that there was no pain. That would comeafterwards when they presented me the bill. But for now I was painless.
"Do you smoke?" persisted the resident.
"I have never tried burning myself, but probably would." My wife nudged me and intervened, "He does not smoke or drink. Just keeps cracking these pointless PJs."
The resident promptly scribbled something on the pad. He probably wrote that the patient was delirious. After peering with screwed eyes at my ECG he said, "Q wave changes."
I said, "I give up. You tell me."
"What?"
"I don't know Kyon wave changes. You tell me."
The resident stopped telling me anything else. He turned to my wife and said, "It seems to be a minor infarct."
I don't know what it is with doctors. How can you call any heart infarct minor? If there is an infarct, it is a major thing, at least for the patient. There was also some depressing talk about ST depressions. Here I felt as if an ST bus was driving over my chest, who bothered whether that ST
was depressed or happy?
I was immediately admitted to the ICCU and posted for an Angiography the next day. One piece of advice to all Cardiac care units: If you do not want your heart patients to have any further attacks, do not appoint such lovely
young nurses. Most of the nurses in the entire world are from Kerala. If all the nurses return home, all the hospitals in the world will come to a stop..
And there will be no standing space in Kerala.
There were big notices posted outside the door of the ICCU. "No Visitors" and no "No Mobiles". Okay, so there would be no breaking news dispatches from me. Soon a pretty, young Malyali nurse came and told me "Gaana Gaaneka nai."
This came as a shock to me. Not that I wanted to break out into a song and dance routine. I could understand that visitors might disturb the patient,or even the mobiles. But songs? How could anyone be so unmusical? I said
Okay but was a bit miffed.
After many pricks and monitors on my body, half an hour later another pretty young thing came and told me "Gaana Gaaneka nai!"
I was a bit angry. I said, "Yeah! Yeah! Someone told me before also." But this really intrigued me. Why were they so strict about songs? If they had said that I could not dance due to my heart condition, I could have accepted
that. But never in my long medical education had I been warned that singing was bad for cardiac health. I wondered if this was a new advance.
The mystery was cleared when the next Malyali sister, who appeared to be their head nurse, came and explained to me, "Doctor Shah, Aap ka blood samble subay saat ko hai. Toh abi Gaana Gaaneka nai. Phir Kaali pet samble
lene ke baad Gaana Gaaneka."
I immediately added an interpreter to my mental suggestion box. It must be really tough to interpret Gaana as Khaana. But the Mallus can't help their accent.
After a relatively painless night, mainly because relatives were not allowed, and also due to the various drips and things, I woke up to the prick of a blood 'Samble'. Then I was allowed to 'Gaana Gaaneko'.
All the tests gave worse and worse news. There was an inferior wall infarct which the Cardiologist insisted on calling minor. (I hoped he would remember this while billing me.) My Trop T was raised. In short, this is a help call
from the heart. I was posted for angiography and an SOS plasty the nest day after stabilization.
On the morning of the procedure, I got the shock of my life, when a grim looking man entered my room and sent my wife out. He then locked the room and took out a large and sharp glistening razor. Omigosh! This was not how
they performed operations, at least not during the last century. Or was this a scene from an assassin movie? The man then turned to me and smiled and said that he had come to shave me for the procedure.
I sighed with relief. One always wants to look nice and presentable for important occasions even if they be the gallows. I smiled back at him and jutted out my chin at him for easy access. But he ignored my chin and pulled
down my pajamas. I shrieked, "Hey, Its my heart that is amiss."
"Yes Sir. We need to shave your groin!" Groan Groan!
Five minutes later, I was all spick and span and presentable for my planned procedure. Calling it a procedure, reduces the fear factor from it. If you
call it an operation, which it is, you might suffer a further attack. If you call it a butchery, which it sometimes can be, then you need not go to the procedure. I proceeded with a sinking heart, if it could sink any more, to the operation room, which they call a cath lab. It's all about euphemism.
When I entered the 'Cath lab', I found it extremely cold. Was the AC at full blast or was I frightened or was my heart not pumping enough blood? Probably all three. There was soft music playing hindi songs in the background. The nurse told me to remove all my clothes and lie down on a
narrow table. I have already mentioned the weather conditions, so it did not help that here I was completely nude like a fresh plucked chicken, lying on a table, with half my respective buttocks spilling out of the respective
sides of the table. The AC vent was directed towards the exact centre of my body. Now I regretted not taking all those ads on the internet about increasing the length of various body parts seriously. If I had, today I would have been a proud man. But sadly, as of now, I think the OT staff
there will remember me whenever they eat dried dates.
The Hindi song playing was "Haste Gaate yahan se gujar, Duniya ki tu parwa na kar." That was very kind of my namesake Kishoreda to remind me how to face this ordeal. But I was very frightened. His next verse also told me,
"Maut ani hai ayegi ek din, Jaan jaani hai jaayegi ek din, Aisi baton se kya ghabarana, Yaha kal kya ho kisne jaana?" I almost burst out yodeling along with him . OOdle di OOd le di Ooo oo.
The anesthetist approached me and saw me smiling. He was confused. Was this guy so frightened that he was smiling? How could I tell him that I was marveling at Kishoreda's accurate advice to me, a smaller Kishore Kumar.
Then came the good part. Many layers of warm clothes were laid on me. I was shivering, but no longer like the Antarctica. It was more like Shimla now.
The Cardiologist told me that I would now feel a little pain in my groin.
Most appropriately, the song playing now was "Dil hai kaha aur Dard kaha". I smiled and said, "Yes Boss. Go ahead."
I won't go into the gruesome details, but what was visible to me and the entire team there was that my Right Coronary artery was nearly completely
blocked. The doctor said, "Yes, a stent will be required. Dr. Shah, should we insert an Endeavor drug eluting stent?"
I felt ashamed to admit to him that I didn't know a thing about stents. Being a Gynaecologist, I only knew about stunts. So I asked him, "What isthe difference between this one and the other one?" I didn't know the name
of the other one, so I cloaked it in the anonymity of 'the other one'. He said, "There are many differences, but the main one is in the price."
"Then I think you should ask my wife, because she is the one with the purse as well as the purse strings."
After a brief consultation, my wife decided that her husband was after all worth a bit more than this costly stent. But the effect was magical. In front of my eyes, I could see a withered autumn tree of heart vasculature suddenly burst out in full spring glory of new tributaries.
Thus I came out of the 'lab' a new and reborn man. It seemed as if I had thrown off my school shirt and worn a new comfy and roomy one. It was as if I had exchanged Adnan Sami's new shirt for his older ones. No more tightness around the chest. The song playing in the lab when I came out was appropriately "Aaj Main jawaan ho gayi hoon. Gul se gulistan ho gayi hoon."
When I returned home from the hospital after paying the bill, I realized that the old proverb was probably coined by a cardiologist. Which proverb?
It's the one that says:
Jaan bachi, Lakho paye.
Thus my heart tried to spring me a surprise. So I surprised it with a spring
into my heart. Now I walk with a spring in my step and one in my heart too!
Kishore Shah
AMCHI MUMBAI [Tapori] Language
Sophisticated Meaning In Mumbai.....
There's a minor problem
Arre yaar, "Waanda" ho gaya
There's a big problem
Arre yaar, "Zol" ho gaya
There's a huge problem....(unsolvable)
Arre yaar,"Raada" ho gaya
You'll be surprised
Ekdam " Hill " jayega tu
I am going out of this place
Chal apun "Kaltii" marta hai
Don't make a fool of others
Dekh , tu "Shendi" mat laga sabko
Just get out of here, you oversmart fool!!
Chal e Shaaane,"Hawa" aan de
I am not a stupid out here
Apun kya "ALIBAUG" se nahi aaya
There's some misunderstanding
Arre kuch "Galat Faimili" ho gayi
Do u drink daily?
Tu kya roz "FULL TO" hota hai?
Shall I just bash u?
E Du kya "Kharcha Pani"?
Just take him into a secret place
Use jara "Khopche" me leke ja
O... What a beautiful lady!!
Kya "Zakaas Item" hai yaar!!
Don't just bluff..OK?
Jyaada "RAAG" mat de...
Don't take much tension...
Jyaada "LOAD" nahi leneka kya??
Your clothes are very awkward!!
Kya "ZAGMAG / DHINKCHAAK" pehna tune?
I don't care about it much..!!
Abe yaar , "Hata Saawan Ki Ghata"
Please don't overbore me...
Jyaada "PAKAA" mat be tu
All this must be done without anyone's notice
Sab kaam "SUUMDI" me hona chahiye kya
Sophisticated Meaning In Mumbai.....
There's a minor problem
Arre yaar, "Waanda" ho gaya
There's a big problem
Arre yaar, "Zol" ho gaya
There's a huge problem....(unsolvable)
Arre yaar,"Raada" ho gaya
You'll be surprised
Ekdam " Hill " jayega tu
I am going out of this place
Chal apun "Kaltii" marta hai
Don't make a fool of others
Dekh , tu "Shendi" mat laga sabko
Just get out of here, you oversmart fool!!
Chal e Shaaane,"Hawa" aan de
I am not a stupid out here
Apun kya "ALIBAUG" se nahi aaya
There's some misunderstanding
Arre kuch "Galat Faimili" ho gayi
Do u drink daily?
Tu kya roz "FULL TO" hota hai?
Shall I just bash u?
E Du kya "Kharcha Pani"?
Just take him into a secret place
Use jara "Khopche" me leke ja
O... What a beautiful lady!!
Kya "Zakaas Item" hai yaar!!
Don't just bluff..OK?
Jyaada "RAAG" mat de...
Don't take much tension...
Jyaada "LOAD" nahi leneka kya??
Your clothes are very awkward!!
Kya "ZAGMAG / DHINKCHAAK" pehna tune?
I don't care about it much..!!
Abe yaar , "Hata Saawan Ki Ghata"
Please don't overbore me...
Jyaada "PAKAA" mat be tu
All this must be done without anyone's notice
Sab kaam "SUUMDI" me hona chahiye kya
He he he Suri, don't know nothing about it.
That one is a sample I picked up from my E-mail inbox.
A guy went up to his father, saying: "Daddy, I fell in love and want to date this awesome girl!"
Father: That's great, son. Who is it?
Son: It's Sandra, the neighbour's daughter.
Father: Ohhhhh I wish you hadn't said that. I have to tell you something, son, but you must promise not to tell your mum. Sandra is actually your sister.
The boy is naturally bummed out, but life goes on, and indeed, a couple of months later...
Son: Daddy, I fell in love again and she is even hotter!
Father: That's great, son. Who is it?
Son: It's Angela, the other neighbour's daughter.
Father: Ohhhhh I wish you hadn't said that. Angela is also your sister.
This went on another couple of times, and the dude was so mad, he went straight to his mother, crying.
Son: Mum I am so mad at dad! I fell in love with six girls but I can't date any of them becuase dad is their father!
The mother hugs him affectionately and says: "My love, you can date whomever you want.
He isn't your father.
Father: That's great, son. Who is it?
Son: It's Sandra, the neighbour's daughter.
Father: Ohhhhh I wish you hadn't said that. I have to tell you something, son, but you must promise not to tell your mum. Sandra is actually your sister.
The boy is naturally bummed out, but life goes on, and indeed, a couple of months later...
Son: Daddy, I fell in love again and she is even hotter!
Father: That's great, son. Who is it?
Son: It's Angela, the other neighbour's daughter.
Father: Ohhhhh I wish you hadn't said that. Angela is also your sister.
This went on another couple of times, and the dude was so mad, he went straight to his mother, crying.
Son: Mum I am so mad at dad! I fell in love with six girls but I can't date any of them becuase dad is their father!
The mother hugs him affectionately and says: "My love, you can date whomever you want.
He isn't your father.
A woman was having a daytime affair while her husband was at work.
One rainy day she was in bed with her boyfriend when, to her horror, she heard her husband's car pull into the driveway.
'Oh my God!!! - Hurry!! Grab your clothes and jump out the window. My husband's home early!'
'I can't jump out the window. It's raining out there!
''If my husband catches us in here, he'll kill us both!' she replied. 'He's got a hot temper and a gun, so the rain is the least of your problems!'
So the boyfriend scoots out of bed, grabs his clothes and jumps out the window!
As he ran down the street in the pouring rain, he quickly discovered he had run right into the middle of the town's annual marathon, so he started running along beside the others, about 300 of them.
Being naked, with his clothes tucked under his arm, he tried to blend in as best he could.
After a little while a small group of runners who had been watching him with some curiosity, jogged closer.
'Do you always run in the nude?' one asked.
Oh yes!' he replied, gasping in air. 'It feels so wonderfully free!'
Another runner moved a long side. 'Do you always run carrying your clothes with you under your arm?'
'Oh, yes' our friend answered breathlessly. 'That way I can get dressed right at the end of the run and get in my car to go home!'
Then a third runner cast his eyes a little lower and asked, 'Do you always wear a condom when you run?'
'Nope ... just when it's raining.'
One rainy day she was in bed with her boyfriend when, to her horror, she heard her husband's car pull into the driveway.
'Oh my God!!! - Hurry!! Grab your clothes and jump out the window. My husband's home early!'
'I can't jump out the window. It's raining out there!
''If my husband catches us in here, he'll kill us both!' she replied. 'He's got a hot temper and a gun, so the rain is the least of your problems!'
So the boyfriend scoots out of bed, grabs his clothes and jumps out the window!
As he ran down the street in the pouring rain, he quickly discovered he had run right into the middle of the town's annual marathon, so he started running along beside the others, about 300 of them.
Being naked, with his clothes tucked under his arm, he tried to blend in as best he could.
After a little while a small group of runners who had been watching him with some curiosity, jogged closer.
'Do you always run in the nude?' one asked.
Oh yes!' he replied, gasping in air. 'It feels so wonderfully free!'
Another runner moved a long side. 'Do you always run carrying your clothes with you under your arm?'
'Oh, yes' our friend answered breathlessly. 'That way I can get dressed right at the end of the run and get in my car to go home!'
Then a third runner cast his eyes a little lower and asked, 'Do you always wear a condom when you run?'
'Nope ... just when it's raining.'
Received this from a fellow member via sms, thought I'd share here. Here is a slightly different version that I found on the net (lazy to type again):
Shayne had been drinking at his local pub all day and most of the night.
Mick, the bartender says, "You'll not be drinking anymore tonight, Shayne".
Shayne replies "OK Mick, I'll be on my way then." Shayne spins around on his stool and steps off. He falls flat on his face. "Shite" he says and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts himself off. He tries to stand one more time, same result.
He takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his face. He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if he can just get to the door and get some fresh air he'll be fine. He belly crawls to the door and shimmies up the doorframe. He sticks his head outside and takes a deep breath of fresh air, feels much better and takes a step out onto
the sidewalk.
He falls flat on his face.
"I'm fockin' focked," he says. After crawling 4 miles, he can see his house just a few doors down,and crawls to the door and shimmies up the doorframe, opens the
door and shimmies inside. He takes a look up the stairs and says "No
fockin' way".
He crawls up the stairs to his bedroom door and says "I can make it
to the bed." He takes a step into the room and falls flat on his face.
He says "Fock it" and falls into bed.
The next morning, his wife, Mary, comes into the room carrying a cup
of coffee and says, "Get up Shayne. Did you have a bit to drink last
night?".
Shayne says, "I did Mary. But how'd you know?"
"Mick called. You left your wheelchair at the pub again!"
Shayne had been drinking at his local pub all day and most of the night.
Mick, the bartender says, "You'll not be drinking anymore tonight, Shayne".
Shayne replies "OK Mick, I'll be on my way then." Shayne spins around on his stool and steps off. He falls flat on his face. "Shite" he says and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts himself off. He tries to stand one more time, same result.
He takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his face. He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if he can just get to the door and get some fresh air he'll be fine. He belly crawls to the door and shimmies up the doorframe. He sticks his head outside and takes a deep breath of fresh air, feels much better and takes a step out onto
the sidewalk.
He falls flat on his face.
"I'm fockin' focked," he says. After crawling 4 miles, he can see his house just a few doors down,and crawls to the door and shimmies up the doorframe, opens the
door and shimmies inside. He takes a look up the stairs and says "No
fockin' way".
He crawls up the stairs to his bedroom door and says "I can make it
to the bed." He takes a step into the room and falls flat on his face.
He says "Fock it" and falls into bed.
The next morning, his wife, Mary, comes into the room carrying a cup
of coffee and says, "Get up Shayne. Did you have a bit to drink last
night?".
Shayne says, "I did Mary. But how'd you know?"
"Mick called. You left your wheelchair at the pub again!"
entsurgeon
Active Member
- Joined
- Apr 28, 2010
- Messages
- 591
- Points
- 43
so, this awediophile joke.
cameron went to 3 big names planning his next hollywood blockbuster about 3 big names in western clasical music.
he asked each of the actors as to which musician would he prefer to play.
so while sly stallone said he do good job of mozart, jean clade van damme said he d waited his life to play beethoven.
however when he was asked the same question by james , arnold schwarzennegger closed his eyes, went into a trance like state pondering deep into the thought... and after a goood 5 minutes, came up with his answer:
"I'LL BE BACH"
cameron went to 3 big names planning his next hollywood blockbuster about 3 big names in western clasical music.
he asked each of the actors as to which musician would he prefer to play.
so while sly stallone said he do good job of mozart, jean clade van damme said he d waited his life to play beethoven.
however when he was asked the same question by james , arnold schwarzennegger closed his eyes, went into a trance like state pondering deep into the thought... and after a goood 5 minutes, came up with his answer:
"I'LL BE BACH"
Some really serious legal howlers. These are from a book called Disorder in the American Courts, and are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters who had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were actually taking place.
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS: I forget.
ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?
___________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in voodoo?
WITNESS: We both do.
ATTORNEY: Voodoo?
WITNESS: We do.
ATTORNEY: You do?
WITNESS: Yes, voodoo.
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?
____________________________________
ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?
WITNESS: He's twenty, much like your IQ.
___________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Are you pulling my leg?
_________________________________________
ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS: Take a guess.
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: How many were boys?
WITNESS: None.
ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?
WITNESS: Your Honor, I think I need a different attorney. Can I get a new attorney?
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS: By death.
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?
WITNESS: Take a guess.
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?
WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard.
ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?
WITNESS: Unless the Circus was in town I'm going with male.
_____________________________________
ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?
WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work..
______________________________________
ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?
WITNESS: All of them. The live ones put up too much of a fight.
_________________________________________
ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to?
WITNESS: Oral.
_________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: If not, he was by the time I finished.
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
WITNESS: Are you qualified to ask that question?
______________________________________
And the best for last:
ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.
______________________________________________________________
Cheers
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS: I forget.
ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?
___________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in voodoo?
WITNESS: We both do.
ATTORNEY: Voodoo?
WITNESS: We do.
ATTORNEY: You do?
WITNESS: Yes, voodoo.
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?
____________________________________
ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?
WITNESS: He's twenty, much like your IQ.
___________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Are you pulling my leg?
_________________________________________
ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS: Take a guess.
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: How many were boys?
WITNESS: None.
ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?
WITNESS: Your Honor, I think I need a different attorney. Can I get a new attorney?
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS: By death.
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?
WITNESS: Take a guess.
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?
WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard.
ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?
WITNESS: Unless the Circus was in town I'm going with male.
_____________________________________
ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?
WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work..
______________________________________
ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?
WITNESS: All of them. The live ones put up too much of a fight.
_________________________________________
ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to?
WITNESS: Oral.
_________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: If not, he was by the time I finished.
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
WITNESS: Are you qualified to ask that question?
______________________________________
And the best for last:
ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.
______________________________________________________________
Cheers
Last edited:
RiyaButler
New Member
Hi there
Hello Pals,
Just joined the gang. Hope to have good time here.
luv
Riya
Hello Pals,
Just joined the gang. Hope to have good time here.
luv
Riya
Order your Rega Turntables & Amplifiers from HiFiMART.com - India's reputed online dealer.
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