4/3/98

[from Gwendolyn E Eckman, via UGA Humor List]

A mother and her son were flying "Southwest Airlines" from Kansas to
Chicago.  The son (who had been looking out the window) turned to his
mother and said, "If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby
cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?"

The mother (who couldn't think of an answer) told her son to ask the
stewardess.  So the boy asked the stewardess , "If big dogs have baby
dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby
planes?"

The stewardess asked, "Did your mother tell you to ask me?"

He said that she had.

So she said, "Tell your mother that Southwest always pulls out on
time."
+---------------------------------------------+
[from HAND! - NOT the same set that was sent out a couple of months 
ago]

Signs you live in a small town:

 - The welcome sign and leaving sign are on the same post.

 - Your mailman doesn't have to leave home to deliver the mail.

 - You actually LIKE the tune "Small Town" by Springstein.

 - You go online to read "HFTE" and everyone comes over to read
    it with you.

 - The mayor runs the city out of his house.

 - You sneeze and get a "Gesundheit" from half the population.

 - The town dog pound and jail are the same.

 - Your address reads: John Doe, Smalltown, and you get it.

 - There is no middle school, until  the elementary school
    students move in grade.

 - The elementary school crossing guard is also the sherrif.

 - The local baseball teams only have five  members each
   (only two teams).

 - The town picnic only needed two packs of hotdogs, two packs
   of buns, one six pack of beer, one bag of chips, and two
   six packs of soda to feed all the residents.

 - The local paper comes out monthly, and is only one page.

 - Two people in line at the grocery store is a rush, and three
   cars at an intersection is a traffic jam.

 - Your phone number has two digits.

 - The cop stops you only to tell you that your wife wanted you
   to pick up some milk on the way home.
+---------------------------------------------+
[ This list copyright 1998 by Chris White and Ziff Davis, Inc. ]
[ The Top Five List   top5@walrus.com   http://www.topfive.com ]
[      To forward or repost, please include this section.      ]

      The Top 16 Ways to Celebrate Spring Internationally

16. RUSSIA: Get off the mile-long line for firewood; get in the
    mile-long line for umbrellas.

15. HOLLAND: Annual Easter Clog Toss ("Watch out, Hans!")

14. VATICAN CITY: The Pope presides over the ceremonial casting
    out the first sinner.

13. ISRAEL: Throw cute little stuffed animals filled with rocks
    at the Palestinians.

12. LIECHTENSTEIN: Send annual "we're still a country" notification
    to the U.N.

11. CHERNOBYL: Night Parade Of the Glow-In-The-Dark Chickens

10. JAKARTA: Child-Labor Factory #4 switches from making Kathie Lee
    scarves to Nike running shoes.

 9. TEHRAN: Can now attend "Death to America" rally in shorts.

 8. BAGHDAD: Before inspectors begin their hunt, replace anthrax
    eggs with slightly less nauseating Cadbury eggs.

 7. PRAGUE: Tank tops (with real tanks).

 6. TOKYO: Godzilla turns his fancy from a path of destruction to
    thoughts of love.

 5. FRANCE: French Army stocks up on white flags at annual White
    Sale.

 4. ENGLAND: Leichester Larry comes out of his flat and smiles.
    If any teeth are straight, 6 more weeks of rain -- otherwise, 5.5
    more weeks of rain.

 3. IRELAND: Swimsuit issue of "Soccer Hooligan Illustrated" hits
    newsstands.

 2. BOSNIA: Annual switch to "Daylight Bombing Time" requires
    setting your quality of life back another decade.


  and the Number 1 Way to Celebrate Spring Internationally...


 1. GERMANY: Order the flowers to bloom.
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Giggle's Humor List 
http://www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/9262/ ]


What Are You Thinking?
by John Scalzi

The question this time, from the men's side of the table:  what
should you do when the women you're with asks you:  "What are you
thinking?"

Every male in the world has had to deal with this question, which is
more often than not uncorked at entirely inappropriate times, such as
when you are watching sports, locked in a passionate embrace, or
reeling in a feisty marlin from the Gulf of Mexico.  Regardless of
what you're doing, you must come up with a complete and satisfactory
answer, or stand accused of Hiding Your True Feelings.   Which means,
of course, you'll spend the next week pretending to be sorry.  So
you've got to come up with something.  And it had better be good.

Now, the obvious question here is:  WHY do women want to know what
we're thinking?  Simple:  They assume we're thinking in the first
place.  Hard to believe, but there it is.

Why on earth would they think that?  Well, go up to a woman and ask
her what she is thinking.  I have just done so with my wife, and this
is what she is thinking about:

"Off the top of my head, I'm thinking about the party we're having
Saturday, and how I'm going to fix that chandelier in the front room
so that people can walk around without hitting their heads. Underneath
that I'm thinking about my work schedule this week and whether or not
I'm going to have time to do some of the things I need to do at home
as well. And under that I'm wondering if it's too late to get tickets
on a plane to Ohio for Christmas.  AND I'm thinking about getting a
snack."

Not only is she thinking about something, she's thinking about four
separate things.  If I check back in five minutes, she'll still be
thinking.  Women are always thinking, and often about practical
things.

Men, on the other hand, are actively thinking for about five minutes
out of every hour (usually not in sequence).  So, at best, you have a
one in 12 chance of catching a man actually having a thought.  What
are we thinking about?

 1. Women
 2. Food
 3. Steve Miller tunes
 4. Sports
 5. "Beavis and Butthead"
 6. How an awesome computer operating system like Linux can exist
    _AND_ be free at the same time (or Women)
 7. Work
 8. The black unknowable nothingness that frames our existence, and
    whether a benevolent and omnipotent higher power can possibly
    exist within it (or Beer)
 9. Sleep
10. Women

In summary, randomly asking a man what he's thinking has precisely a
8.83% chance of turning up a real, verifiable, honest-to-God thought.
You might as well bet on the New York Jets.  Sound harsh, guys? Fine. 
Quick -- what are you thinking?  Had to think about it, didn't you. 
You lose. Sit down.

Despite the overwhelming evidence that men, in fact, are almost never
thinking, women will still demand to know their innermost thoughts. In
a way, it's touching; women are expressing faith that, if prodded long
enough and frequently enough, they may yet boost the number of times
we think in an hour.  And they will.  Unfortunately, most of what
we'll be thinking is "stop asking me what I'm thinking."  And that's
just going to get us in trouble.

The best way to keep a woman from constantly asking you what you are
thinking is to have a ready, pre-memorized answer for the times that
she does.  Here are some tried and true responses, with the pros and
cons of each:

"I'm thinking that tonight it'd be nice to stay at home and sit by the
fire together."

  Pros: Romantic; Sounds as if you're spontaneous.
  Cons: Requires fireplace (or a cement floor and ventilation);
 Romantic moments often prompt even more "What are you
 thinking" queries.

"I'm thinking how much I love you."

  Pros: Generally provokes a positive response that short circuits
 any need for further conversation; Is often also true.
  Cons: If you use it too much, she'll know it's a line, and then
 you're really in trouble.

"I was wondering if there is actually life on other planets."

  Pros: Cosmic; shows you are a deep thinker.
  Cons: Woman may wonder if this is an intro to the same sort of
 "alien sigmoidoscopy" story that ruined her last
 relationship.

"I was imagining, if I were an animal, what sort of animal I'd be."

  Pros: Imaginative; Allows woman to spend many happy minutes trying
 to establish your place in the animal kingdom.
  Cons: She might think you resemble a marmoset or skink; She may
 forego the animal world altogether and go straight to yeasts.

"I'm just thinking about how true the lyrics to 'Dust in the Wind'
really are."

  Pros: Shows depth of musical knowledge; As last resort to forestall
 conversation, you may break out into song.
  Cons: If she's a connoisseur of 70s melodic rock, you may find
 yourself in a bitter, divisive quarrel about which is deeper,
 "Dust" or Aerosmith's "Dream On."

Keep in mind that these responses are not to supersede an actual
thought. If you find yourself having one at the moment she asks, go
ahead and share it, as long as it's not something along the lines of
"This relationship blows" or "I really like margarine."  With a little
practice, you should come out okay.

But, hey.  That's just what I think.

(John Scalzi is a writer and editor for America Online.  His wife
almost never asks him what he is thinking.  He can't decide if this is
a good or bad thing.)
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Stan Kegel]

The chief of a poor Native American tribe, where there were no paved
roads, no electricity, and no indoor plumbing, scrimped and saved and
finally was able to send his eldest son to college. The lad did well,
working hard for four years and finally graduating with a bachelor's
degree in electrical engineering. 

Arriving home after graduation, the boy was treated to a welcoming
party, complete with plenty of refreshments. Shortly after he retired
to sleep, the son was awakened by a call of nature. Exiting the hut, 
he proceeded down the road to the outhouse, only to stumble and fall 
because of the lack of lights. 

The next day, the son decided to put his education to work. He sat
down, did the calculations, and prepared construction drawings for a
lighting system for the outhouse, complete with lights for the path
leading to it. It was constructed and was an immediate success. 

This chief's son will go down in history as the first Indian ... to
wire a head for a reservation. 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Thomas Rowe, via UGA Humor List]

And if they don't make the top 10 list, some other cartoons are also
mighty suspicious

Speedy Gonzales.  Hey, c'mon.  Was there ever a rodent when
Amphetamine abuse is so obvious?  And did you notice, he runs out and
gets the food for everyone, but does he ever eat any?

Elmer Fudd:  No question, the boy trips on Ecstacy.  I mean, listen to
that laugh, would you?

Miss Piggy.  Bufotineine.  Kermit the Frog.  Need I say more?

Wile E. Coyote.  Now here's a total PCP burnout case.  Not only does
he feel no pain, but he's too brain damaged to know he's licked.

Yosemite Sam is another Angel Dust suspect.  His aggression knows no
bounds, but despite being shot by cannons at point blank range, he
just gets madder and meaner.

Snoopy, of course, likes to trip out with grass.  Mostly, he's pretty
mellowed out, but when he gets his paws on that Hash Oil, hey, its WWI
flying Ace time.

What I want to know is, what does that wascally wabbit Bugs use???
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Kitty's Daily Mews]

A Guide to Software Revisions 

Once you start playing with software you quickly become aware that
each software package has a revision code attached to it. It is
obvious that this revision code gives the sequence of changes to the
product, but in reality there's substantially more information
available through the rev code than that. This e-mail provides a guide
for interpreting the meaning of the revision codes and what they
actually signify. 

1.0: 

Also known as "one point uh-oh", or "barely out of beta".  We had to
release because the lab guys had reached a point of exhaustion and the
marketing guys were in a cold sweat of terror.  We're praying that
you'll find it more functional than, say, a computer virus and that
its operation has some resemblance to that specified in the marketing
copy. 

1.1: 

We fixed all the killer bugs ... 

1.2: 

Uh, we introduced a few new bugs fixing the killer bugs and so we had
to fix them, too. 

2.0: 

We did the product we really wanted to do to begin with. Mind you,
it's really not what the customer needs yet, but we're working on it. 

2.1: 

Well, not surprisingly, we broke some things in making major changes
so we had to fix them. But we did a really good job of testing this
time, so we don't think we introduced any new bugs while we were
fixing these bugs. 

2.2: 

Uh, sorry, one slipped through. One lousy typo error and you won't
believe how much trouble it caused! 

2.3: 

Some jerk found a deep-seated bug that's been there since 1.0 and
wouldn't stop nagging until we fixed it!! 

3.0: 

Hey, we finally think we've got it right! Most of the customers are
really happy with this. 

3.1: 

Of course, we did break a few little things. 

4.0: 

More features. It's doubled in size now, by the way, and you'll need
to get more memory and a faster processor ... 

4.1: 

Just one or two bugs this time ... Honest! 

5.0: 

We really need to go on to a new product, but we have an installed
base out there to protect. We're cutting the staffing after this. 

6.0: 

We had to fix a few things we broke in 5.0. Not very many, but it's
been so long since we looked at this thing we might as well call it a
major upgrade.  Oh, yeah, we added a few flashy cosmetic features so
we could justify the major upgrade number. 

6.1: 

Since I'm leaving the company and I'm the last guy left in the lab who
works on the product, I wanted to make sure that all the changes I've
made are incorporated before I go. I added some cute demos, too, since
I was getting pretty bored back here in my dark little corner (I kept
complaining about the lighting but they wouldn't do anything). They're
talking about obsolescence planning but they'll try to keep selling it
for as long as there's a buck or two to be made. I'm leaving the bits
in as good a shape as I can in case somebody has to tweak them, but
it'll be sheer luck if no one loses them. 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Just Too Funny!]

"Daddy, how much do you make an hour?"

With a timid voice and idolizing eyes, the little boy greeted his
father as he returned from work.

Greatly surprised, but giving his boy a glaring look, the father said:
"Look, son, not even your mother knows that.  Don't bother me now, I'm
tired."

"But Daddy, just tell me please!  How much do you make an hour?" the
boy insisted.  The father, finally giving up, replied: "Twenty dollars
per hour."

"Okay, Daddy.  Could you loan me ten dollars?" the boy asked.

Showing his restlessness and positively disturbed, the father yelled:
"So that was the reason you asked how much I earn, right?  Go to sleep
and don't bother me anymore!"

It was already dark and the father was meditating on what he said and
was feeling guilty.  Maybe he thought, his son wanted to buy
something. Finally, trying to ease his mind, the father went to his
son's room.

"Are you asleep, son?" asked the father.

"No, Daddy.  Why?" replied the boy, partially asleep.

"Here's the money asked for earlier, " the father said.

"Thanks, Daddy!" rejoiced the son, while putting his hand under his
pillow and removing some money.

"Now I have enough!  Now I have twenty dollars!" the boy said to his
father, who was gazing at his son, confused at what his son had just
said. "Daddy, could you sell me one hour of your time?"
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Allan Hjer3pe, on Rehu]

Throughout the 17th, 18th, and most of the 19th century the
punishment for many crimes (including such comparatively minor ones
as picking pockets) in Thailand was the ritual blinding of the
offender. This punishment became more and more unpopular and an
underground resistance movement developed. The men who performed
this ritual blinding became the increasingly common target for
assasination, usually by bombs. Indeed, so many were killed by bombs
that the position became increasingly difficult to fill. The pay was
high, but the danger of death by explosion was higher.

In time the government gave up and abandoned blinding as a means of
punishment. Today we remember the resistance movement because of
their famous protest song: "Blast Be The Thai That Blinds." 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Kitty's Daily Mews - this one is more WEIRD than actually 
funny]

Politically Correct Little Red Riding Hood

There once was a young person named Little Red Riding Hood who lived
on the edge of a large forest full of endangered owls and rare plants
that would probably provide a cure for cancer if only someone took the
time to study them. 

Red Riding Hood lived with a nurture giver whom she sometimes referred
to as "mother", although she didn't mean to imply by this term that
she would have thought less of the person if a close biological link
did not in fact exist. 

Nor did she intend to denigrate the equal value of nontraditional
households, although she was sorry if this was the impression
conveyed. 

One day her mother asked her to take a basket of organically grown
fruit and mineral water to her grandmother's house. 

"But mother, won't this be stealing work from the unionized people who
have struggled for years to earn the right to carry all packages
between various people in the woods?" 

Red Riding Hood's mother assured her that she had called the union
boss and gotten a special compassionate mission exemption form. 

"But mother, aren't you oppressing me by ordering me to do this?" 

Red Riding Hood's mother pointed out that it was impossible for womyn
to oppress each other, since all womyn were equally oppressed until
all womyn were free. 

"But mother, then shouldn't you have my brother carry the basket,
since he's an oppressor, and should learn what it's like to be
oppressed?" 

And Red Riding Hood's mother explained that her brother was attending
a special rally for animal rights, and besides, this wasn't
stereotypical womyn's work, but an empowering deed that would help
engender a feeling of community. 

"But won't I be oppressing Grandma, by implying that she's sick and
hence unable to independently further her own selfhood?" 

But Red Riding Hood's mother explained that her grandmother wasn't
actually sick or incapacitated or mentally handicapped in any way,
although that was not to imply that any of these conditions were
inferior to what some people called "health". 

Thus Red Riding Hood felt that she could get behind the idea of
delivering the basket to her grandmother, and so she set off. 

Many people believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous
place, but Red Riding Hood knew that this was an irrational fear based
on cultural paradigms instilled by a patriarchal society that regarded
the natural world as an exploitable resource, and hence believed that
natural predators were in fact intolerable competitors. 

Other people avoided the woods for fear of thieves and deviants, but
Red Riding Hood felt that in a truly classless society all
marginalized peoples would be able to "come out" of the woods and be
accepted as valid lifestyle role models. 

On her way to Grandma's house, Red Riding Hood passed a woodchopper,
and wandered off the path, in order to examine some flowers. 

She was startled to find herself standing before a Wolf, who asked her
what was in her basket. 

Red Riding Hood's teacher had warned her never to talk to strangers,
but she was confident in taking control of her own budding sexuality,
and chose to dialogue with the Wolf. 

She replied, "I am taking my Grandmother some healthful snacks in a
gesture of solidarity." 

The Wolf said, "You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to
walk through these woods alone." 

Red Riding Hood said, "I find your sexist remark offensive in the
extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an
outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develp and
alternative and yet entirely valid worldview. Now, if you'll excuse
me, I would prefer to be on my way." 

Red Riding Hood returned to the main path, and proceeded towards her
Grandmother's house. 

But because his status outside of society had freed him from slavish
adherence to linear, Western-style thought, the Wolf knew of a quicker
route to Grandma's house. 

He burst into the house and ate Grandma, a course of action
affirmative of his nature as predator. 

Then, unhampered by rigid, traditionalist gender role notions, he put
on Grandma's nightclothes, crawled under the bedclothes, and awaited
developments. 

Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said, "Grandma, I have brought
you some cruelty free snacks to salute you in your role as wise and
nurturing matriarch." 

The Wolf said softly "Come closer, child, so that I might see you." 

Red Riding Hood said, "Goddess! Grandma, what big eyes you have!" 

"You forget that I am optically challenged." 

"And Grandma, what an enormous and fine nose you have." 

"Naturally, I could have had it fixed to help my acting career, but I
didn't give in to such societal pressures, my child." 

"And Grandma, what very big, sharp teeth you have!" 

The Wolf could not take any more of these specist slurs, and, in a
reaction appropriate for his accustomed milieu, he leaped out of bed,
grabbed Little Red Riding Hood, and opened his jaws so wide that she
could see her poor Grandmother cowering in his belly. 

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Red Riding Hood bravely shouted.
"You must request my permission before proceeding in a new level of
intimacy!" 

The Wolf was so startled by this statement that he loosened his grasp
on her. 

At the same time, the woodchopper burst into the cottage, brandishing
an ax. 

"Hands off!" cried the woodchopper. 

"And what do you think you're doing?" cried Little Red Riding Hood.
"If I let you help me now, I would be expressing a lack of confidence
in my own abilities, which would lead to poor self esteem and lower
achievement scores on college entrance exams." 

"Last chance, sister! Get your hands off that endangered species! This
is an FBI sting!" screamed the woodchopper, and when Little Red Riding
Hood nonetheless made a sudden motion, he sliced off her head. 

"Thank goodness you got here in time," said the Wolf. "The brat and
her grandmother lured me in here. I though I was a goner." 

"No, I think I'm the real victim, here," said the woodchopper. "I've
been dealing with my anger ever since I saw her picking those
protected flowers earlier. And now I'm going to have such a trauma. Do
you have any aspirin?" 

"Sure" said the Wolf. 

"Thanks." 

"I feel your pain," said the Wolf, giving a little belch, and said "Do
you have any Maalox?"

+---------------------------------------------+
[from the Jewish Humor List]

"The Ten Commandments of E-mail"


Thou shalt include a clear and specific subject line.

Thou shalt edit any quoted text down to the minimum thou needest.

Thou shalt read thine own message thrice before thou sendest it.

Thou shalt ponder how thy recipient might react to thy message.

Thou shalt check thy spelling and thy grammar.

Thou shalt not curse, flame, spam or USE ALL CAPS.

Thou shalt not forward any chain letter.

Thou shalt not use e-mail for any illegal or unethical purpose.

Thou shalt not rely on the privacy of e-mail, especially from work.

When in doubt, save thy message overnight and reread it in the light
of the dawn.

And, here's the "Golden Rule" of E-Mail:

That which thou findest hateful to receive, sendest thou not unto
others.
+---------------------------------------------+
[By Lee Daniel Quinn. Any corrections or additions, contact Lee 
Daniel Quinn at words@iop.com ]

                            LANGUAGE

Here are definitions of language that are found among the over 5,000
definitions in Quinn's Devious Dictionary.

-----

AMBIGUITY, n. [1] the lack of clarity in speech -- or, perhaps,
something else; [2] the language of politics and statesmanship

DICTIONARY, n. [1] the only place where: (a) divorce comes before
marriage, and (b) success comes before work; [2] a malevolent literary
device for cramping the growth of language and making it hard and
inelastic.  This dictionary, however, is a more useful work {Ambrose
Bierce - The Devil's Dictionary}

HUMOR, n. [1] a feat, after the invention of language, which is
man's proudest achievement

ITALIC, n. [1] the language spoken by ancient Italians

KANGAROO, n. [1] is actually "what did you say?" in the language of
the Australian natives. {Captain Cook's mistake}

KINDNESS, n. [1] a language that the dumb can speak and the deaf can
hear

LANGUAGE, n. [1] the most important form of intercourse practiced by
man -- next to sex; [2] a system which was developed to allow humanity
to complain without killing or maiming.

LINGUIST, n. [1] a talented fellow who has mastered the ability to
make mistakes in more than one language; [2] a person who can be
misunderstood in many languages

LOVE, n. [1] the most slippery word in the human language -- used by
knaves to seduce, by fools for comfort, and by most men to placate the
female of the species

OFFICIALESE, n. [1] a  government language where you can understand
the words, but not the sentences

PHILOSOPHY, n. [1] a system of labeling and redefining our language to
allow us to rescue the absurd

POET(S) n. [1] an individual so in love with language who can, for the
sake of art, survive any hardship -- except a misprint

RIOT, n. [1] the language of the unheard

SLANDER, n. [1] to lie about someone -- or tell the truth

SLANG, n. [1] a language that takes off its coat, spits on its hands,
and goes to work; [2] the one stream of poetry which is continually
flowing outward

SLOGAN, n. [1] a good old American substitute for the facts; [2] our
modern commercial replacement for quality; [3] a politician's banner,
often changed, but always held high above the voters brains

SPECIALIST, n. [1] a learned person who can name a horse in nine
languages and buys a cow to ride

YIDDISH, n. [1] a tongue that never takes its tongue out of its cheek;
[2] the rich traditional language of organized complaint
+---------------------------------------------+
[forwarded by Jan Stefanovic

Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old
is when we're kids?  If you're less than 10 years old, you're so
excited about aging that you think in fractions.  How old are you?....
"I'm four and a half "....You're never 36 and a half....you're four
and a half going on five!

That's the key.  You get into your teens, now they can't hold you
back. You jump to the next number.  How old are you?  "I'm gonna be
16."  You could be 12, but you're gonna be 16.

And then the greatest day of your life happens....you become 21.  Even
the words sound like a ceremony....you BECOME 21...YES!!!

But then you turn 30....ooohhh what happened there?  Makes you sound
like bad milk....He TURNED, we had to throw him out.  There's no fun
now.

What's wrong??  What changed??  You BECOME 21, you TURN 30, then
you're PUSHING 40.....stay over there, it's all slipping away........

You BECOME 21, you TURN 30, you're PUSHING 40, you REACH 50.....and
your dreams are gone.

Then you MAKE IT to 60.....you didn't think you'd make it!!!!

So you BECOME 21, you TURN 30, you're PUSHING 40, you REACH 50, you
MAKE IT to 60......then you build up so much speed you HIT 70!

After that, it's a day by day thing.  After that, you HIT
Wednesday.... You get into your 80's, you HIT lunch.  You TURN 4:30,
my grandmother won't even buy green bananas....it's an investment you
know, and maybe a bad one.

And it doesn't end there....into the 90's you start going
backwards.... I was JUST 92...

Then a strange thing happens.  If you make it over 100, you become a
little kid again.... "I'm 100 and a half!!!!"
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Jim Mica, via UGA Humor List]

Time Sure is Relative    (Edited by Jim Mica)

This past weekend folks around here (Upstate New York --USA) went
through the semi-annual ritual of messing with clocks.  We changed
from Eastern Standard Time to Eastern Daylight Saving's Time.  We
(pretty much) all sprang forward an hour.

As I said we sprang ahead, but it was not a universal time shift. One
couple walked into our adult Sunday School class 3 or 4 minutes before
it was to end, looking rather sheepish.  She said, "No!  We didn't
oversleep, but we did forget to change the clocks.  I was out doing
some early grocery shopping when I discovered we were an hour off and
we rushed like anything to get here..."

It's only been about a hundred years that we've had "Standard
Time Zones" here in the US.  The railroads made the government
set them up so that they could know just how late their trains
were running.  At the time farmers complained that this messing
with nature would make their roosters neurotic and make their
cows go dry.  Since we in the US are the only modern country, I
assume that other areas, like say Europe, still go by Matins and
Lauds and the like.

Back during WWII life got more confusing, time-wise, because they
started this "Daylight Savings Time" thing to increase productivity. 
I have no idea how messing with clocks twice a year was supposed to do
this, but I do know that the farmers complained because they feared
this would make their cows neurotic and their roosters go dry.

Last Saturday my elderly Maiden Aunt went to supper at the home
of her friends Julie and Bob.  She didn't say what time they sat
down to eat --I'd guess it would have been 18:30 - 19:00-- but
she was quite alarmed to see that it was about 21:30 by the clock on
the wall as they were finishing their dessert.  She immediately began
to worry about getting back home because it was so late.  When she
mentioned this to Julie, Julie assured her that she had nothing to
worry about.  "Bob set the clocks ahead this morning."  "Yes," added
Bob, "I didn't want to forget to do that!"

Back in the 70s {that's 1970s} we had an energy shortage here in
the states.  To counteract that problem the government had
Daylight Savings Time start weeks earlier than usual.  The
farmers complained, but then I'll bet you already guessed that.
I could never understand that shift because there were so few
solar powered cars in those days, I mean, not like now when we're
completely independent of foreign oil...

Then there was the couple that arrived for church Sunday morning
and were shocked to see that there was nobody in the parking lot.
"Blast it all," said the husband, "I know I set the clock ahead last
night!"


"Oh my," said the wife, "so did I!"

Now we "Spring Ahead" about two weeks after the March equinox (we used
to call that one the "spring" equinox, but we have become much less
north-hemisphere-o-centric these days), but we don't "Fall Back" until
5 weeks after the the September (aka 'Fall') equinox.  According to
the rosters and cows, this makes the farmers neurotic.

My favorite "Spring Ahead" story comes from an acquaintance who
is a choir director.  {Hey there Greg!} One year, when the change
occurred over an Easter weekend, he forgot to "Spring" and ended up
walking in in time for the final hymn.

Well, I'd like to write more about this subject, but as you may
have guessed, I'm out of time.  Besides, there's a bunch of angry
chickens and bulls making noise outside my door.  I wonder what that's
all about?
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Kitty's Daily Mews]

I Just Couldn't

I used to work in an orange juice factory, until I got canned. Yeah,
they put the squeeze on me, said I couldn't concentrate. You know,
same old boring rind over and over again.

I used to be a lumberjack, but I just couldn't hack it, so they gave
me the axe.

I tried to be a tailor, but I just wasn't suited for it.  It was a
sew-sew job.

I used to work in a muffler factory, until I got exhausted.

I wanted to be a barber, but I just couldn't cut it.

I wanted to be a chef, figured it would add a little spice to my life,
but I just didn't have the thyme.

I used to be a deli worker, but I couldn't cut the mustard

I used to make glasses, but one day fell into the lens grinder and
really made a spectacle of myself

I used to be a butcher until I backed into the meat grinder and got a
little behind in my work.

I used to be a musician, but I wasn't noteworthy.

I used to be a doctor, but I didn't have the patients.
+---------------------------------------------+
[from David R Briel, via Bill's Punch Line]

A midwest Indian tribe was in a severe famine.  Hundreds of tribe
members were dying each day. Not sure what to do, the Chief went to
the medicine man for advice.  "Medicine man" he said, "what can we do
to get out of this famine?"  

The medicine man replied, "I will go into the Great Tent and have a
vision of what is to be done."  Three hours later the medicine man
returns to the chief and says, "We must travel west across the plains
and over the mountains, and just on the other side of the mountains we
will see lush grasses and bacon trees with plenty of bacon for us to
eat."  

Slightly puzzled by the medicine man's request the Chief said, "Are
you sure of this?"  

"Yes, bacon trees will be waiting for us," replied the medicine man.

The Chief and his tribe took the wise man's advice and traveled
across the plains.  Along the way most of the tribe died from heat
and starvation and only a few members remained as they reached the
summit of the mountains.  As they looked over the mountain they saw
lush green grass, but no bacon trees.  But because they were so
hungry and trusted the medicine man's vision, they ran down the
mountain toward the lush grass.  No sooner than they reached the edge
of the grasses the calvary rushed out and killed every one of them.  

In his final dying minutes the Chief crawled to the medicine man and
said, "So, where are these bacon trees?"  

The medicine man could only reply, "they must have been ham bushes."
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Terry Galan, via UGA Humor List]

    Best of the Worst Country & Western Song Titles...

 1.  I Keep Forgettin' I Forgot About You
 2.  How Can I Miss You If You Won't Go Away?
 3.  Get Your Biscuits In The Oven And Your Buns In The Bed
 4.  Her Teeth Were Stained, But Her Heart Was Pure
 5.  How Can You Believe Me When I Say I Love You When You Know I've
     Been A Liar All My Life?

=====================================================

       Truly Tasteless Country & Western Titles...

 6.  When You Leave Walk Out Backwards, So I'll Think You're Walking
     In 
 7.  You're The Reason Our Kids Are So Ugly 
 8.  She Got The Ring And I Got The Finger 
 9.  You Can't Have Your Kate And Edith Too 
10.  Oh, I've Got Hair Oil On My Ears And My Glasses Are Slipping 
     Down, But Baby I Can See Through You

=====================================================

      More Hilarious Hits from the world of Country Music...

 11. My Wife Ran Off With My Best Friend, And I Sure Do Miss Him
 12. I'd Rather Have A Bottle In Front Of Me Than A Frontal Lobotomy
 13. I'm Just A Bug On The Windshield Of Life 
 14. If You Don't Leave Me Alone, I'll Go And Find Someone Else Who 
     Will 
 15. My John Deere Was Breaking Your Field, While Your Dear John Was
     Breaking My Heart

=====================================================

       Titles That Are Sure To Get A Grin...

 16. She Made Toothpicks Out Of The Timber Of My Heart
 17. If I Can't Be Number One In Your Life, Then Number Two On You 
 18. If My Nose Were Full of Nickels, I'd Blow It All On You 
 19. Mama Get The Hammer (There's A Fly On Papa's Head)

                    And finally...

 20. They May Put Me In Prison, But They Can't Stop My Face From
     Breakin' Out
+---------------------------------------------+
[forwarded by Michael A Dimond, on Rehu]

 BUT FIRST SYNDROME

"I call it "But-First" Syndrome.  YOU know.  It's when you decide to
do the laundry.  So you start down the stairs with the laundry, but
then see the newspapers on the table.  OK, you'll do the laundry.

BUT FIRST you decide to put the newspapers away.  So on your way in
to put the newspapers away, you notice the mail on the table.  OK,
you'll put the newspapers away.

BUT FIRST you'll pay that bill that needs to be paid.  So you look
for the checkbook.  Oops...there's the baby's bottle from yesterday on
the floor. OK, you'll pay the bill.

BUT FIRST you need to put the bottle in the sink.  You head for the
kitchen. Darn it, there's the remote for the TV.  What's it doing
here?  Okay, you'll put the bottle in the sink.

BUT FIRST you need to put the remote away.  Head for the TV room.
Aaagh! Stepped on the cat.  Cat needs to be fed.  Okay, you'll put
the remote away.

BUT FIRST you need to feed the cat...

So, here's what happens at the end of the day....

Laundry not done, newspapers on the floor, bottle on the table, bills
unpaid, checkbook still lost, cat ate the remote control......

And, when you try to figure out how come nothing got done all day,
you are baffled because...........................you KNOW you were
BUSY ALL DAY!!


That's the "BUT-FIRST" Syndrome."

  ~Anonymous~
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Bill's Punch Line]

Some years ago the Bureau of Biological Survey ran the Bird Banding
Lab, a version of which is still active today. Bands back then,
similar to those currently in use, were printed with a number plus an
abbreviated address indicating that the band was to be returned to the
Washington Biological Survey (Wash.Biol.Surv.).

Upon finding one of the bands, an Arkansas farmer returned the band to
the bureau with the following letter:

"Dear Sirs: I shot one of your crows the other day. My wife followed
the cooking instructions on the leg tag and I want to tell you that
bird tasted just horrible."
+---------------------------------------------+
[found at
http://www.smu.edu/~mbonilla/stories/storys2/cartoondrugs.html ]

Top Ten Drug Using Cartoon Suspects

10. Gargamel (From the Smurfs)

Most likely LSD. Spends his life in pursuit of little blue guys in
sissy white outfits and mentally abusing his cat. What does he plan to
do with the blue dwarfs when he catches them anyway? 

9. Olive Oyl

Probably Dexatrim abuse, maybe some amphetamines. Who is that skinny?!
She might even be anorexic, she is always giving her burger to her
friend. One side question, what the hell are Popeye and Brutus
thinking? What is it her personality? NOT! 

8. Snagglepuss

Can't explain it. Maybe it's the name, or the look, but he is
suspicious. 

7. He-Man

This is an easy one. I mean c'mon. Roid monkey #1. "BY THE POWER OF
ANABOL!!!!!!" Makes me want to root for Skeletor. Alone in his castle,
hitting the weights. And on top of that he even injects the shit in
his pet tiger. Can we say "Animal Abuse". 

6.& 5. Yogi and Boo Boo

We all know what is really in those picnic baskets. They go back to
the cave and trip. Another side ? - Are they gay? I mean, take a look
at BooBoo. Not that there's anything wrong with that..... 

4. Droopy

The number one downer abuser in toon land. Can't someone slip him an
upper every year or two. The only time I ever saw him happy is when he
sees the picture of the babe. Sort of makes you wonder. 

3. Dopey Dwarf

He openly admits it. The other dwarfs deny involvement but they are
under investigation. Allegations are that Doc is writing some extra
scripts for Sneezy and all the guys partaking are afloat. 

2. Daffy Duck

If he isn't using crack, Merion Barry is clean. He is so wired he
bounces around on his head without pain. Blows his beak off all the
time. Some symptoms might be from "daffiness" but Haldol wouldn't work
for him. 

1. Shaggy

By far the #1 suspect. His clothes, his hair, his bad goatee, the boy
converses with dogs. But all of this is nothing until you go to the
Munchie Factor. Anybody who averages 9.3 dog treats consumed per
episode does pot no if, ands, or, buts about it. And Look at the way
him and his friends painted that van! Pretty rad design dude. 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Stan Kegel]

If you've ever been to California, especially the Los Angeles area,
you know that there are a lot of very strange companies doing business
out there. Some of the strangest are the "agencies" that cater to
celebrities. Places that will, for a fee, analyze your best colors,
surroundings, wardrobe, you name it. 

A bit up the road, the Gallo winery was looking for something for
their employees to do in the off-season. Most of the employees had
highly trained noses, due to their experience in the winery. So, the
Gallo brothers took the incentive and opened up their own agency in
Beverly Hills. For a fee, of course, you could come in and be
"sniffed" by these trained noses. Afterwards, they would analyze your
best scents for perfume, flowers, incense, and so on. 

Well, Marcel Marceau read about this in his Sunday paper, and he
decided that this was just the thing he'd been looking for. So, he
called the agency and set up an appointment for the coming Friday at
3:00 pm. Thursday came, and by this time Marcel was really excited
about his upcoming appointment. He was at home, thinking about how he
should prepare for his "sniffing," when the phone rang: it was his
agent. Marcel had to be at an emergency benefit performance for
natural disaster victims in Australia. He had to be on the plane to
Sydney at 3:00 pm on Friday. 

Marcel was crestfallen. He was so much looking forward to his
appointment, and now he would have to miss it. Suddenly, he got an
idea: "I'll call them. I'll try to move the appointment up a few
hours." So, he called the agency and pleaded with the receptionist
to, please, PLEASE, let him come in a few hours early for his
"sniffing." 

The receptionist, in her best Beverly Hills attitude, practically
glared him down through the phone line, saying: "Monsieur Marceau!
... We will smell no mime before it's time!" 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Jim Mica, via UGA Humor List]

IT IS A CONSPIRACY

Ken Brousseau Sr. wrote:

::: 'Milk-A-Holic' Sues Dairy Industry, Claims Milk Is Addictive
:::
::: SEATTLE (AP) (c) -- A self-described milk-a-holic is suing the
::: dairy industry, claiming that a lifetime of drinking whole milk
::: contributed to his clogged arteries and a minor stroke.
:::
::: Norman Mayo, 61, believes he might have avoided his health
::: problems if he had been warned on milk cartons about fat and
::: cholesterol.
:::
::: [...]
:::
::: "I'm pretty sure we would plead not guilty and suggest this
::: is without merit," said Blair Thompson, a spokesman for the
::: Washington Dairy Products Commission.
:::
::: Jon Ferguson, a lead counsel in the state's lawsuit against
::: the tobacco industry, said likening milk with tobacco was
::: silly. Milk, he noted, is not addictive.

I, for one, wish I could be as sanguine about this situation as Ken,
Blair Thompson and Jon Ferguson are!  I am, instead, really deeply
troubled by it.

When I was in Kindergarden -- far below the legal age of consent -- I
was forced to consume WHOLE milk products by the government!  It used
to be delivered right to the classroom where we had to drink it along
with those Graham Cracker things -- and don't get me started on them. 
Now, this wasn't even homogenized milk!  That deadly cream was
floating right there on the top of it!  Now, I mentioned this to a
contemporary (she's actually a much younger contemporary, just to keep
the record straight) and my contemporary, Monica, says that her class
got CHOCOLATE MILK! Imagine that!  She was forced to drink milk with
cocoa powder in it, why that's practically the same as cocaine!

Now I want every right-thinking American to think about this for a
moment or two.  This was WHOLE milk (and worse!) being forced upon
children well below the age of consent by the government, working in
cahoots with the Milkitary-Industrial Complex.  We were being
indoctrinated in milk consumption at the same time that we were being
indoctrinated in consumerism and anti-communism.  At the same time the
government was exposing American servicemen to deadly atomic radiation
it was exposing us innocents to milk.

If milk is supposed to be so good for you, why does it need marketing
boards and why do milk PUSHERS -- let's be frank in our terminology
here -- need to foist all those celebrity ads on us?  You know the
ones. They show pop culture icons sporting milk mustaches.  Have YOU
ever seen an ad showing a pop icon with celery bits about their
person?  I think not.

And another thing.  If milk is non-addictive, why are there drugs on
the market for people who are lactose intolerant?  One would think
that, if milk were non-addictive, anyone who couldn't digest the stuff
wouldn't need to try to digest the stuff.  Why would you put it inside
you if it was gonna make you sick?

Oh, Damn, here come the Black Helecopters....

   THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE

       Mulder, Skully, come save me...
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Keith's Mostly Clean Humor & Weird List]

THE CONSPIRACIES ARE NO LONGER THEORIES if you see this sort of
evidence in your neighborhood:

* If the fellow ahead of you in the McDonald's line orders 15,000 Big
Macs, the enemy force hiding in the woods with their black helicopters
is up to division strength.  If it's 15,000 Kid's Meals, they're
Iraqis.

* Parking space for wedding guests exceeding 100 acres with no parking
valet indicates flying saucer arrivals.

* Guys who bet on the Bengals know the money's already no good.

* If your newspaper has lost more than 15 percent of its circulation
in three years despite being a monopoly, look for large pods in the
basement even if circulation's getting the blame..

* Aliens who have taken over human bodies go to useless daily
committee meetings even if they say they hate them.

* Water that has been chemically altered to bring about a false sense
of alertness, cause dependency and dissolve week-old pastry is called
coffee.  Aliens prefer designer water or cute beer.

* People who volunteer for Special Projects are trained fanatical
killer commandos.

* Anyone in the news business who can't recite the Six-Point Benday
Rule could be an infiltrator.

* Photographers may be enemy moles, space aliens, evolutionary
throwbacks, drooling lunatics or publishers' relatives.  It doesn't
matter.

* When the shooting starts, protect your copy editors at all costs.
+---------------------------------------------+
[from HAND!]

34 things I learned from video games:

1. There is no problem that cannot be overcome by violence.

2. You can overcome most adversaries simply by having enough
   quarters. 

3. If it moves, KILL IT! 

4. Piloting any vehicle is simple and requires no training. 

5. One lone "good guy" can defeat an  indeterminate number of "bad 
   guys."
    A. "Bad guys" move in predictable patterns.
    B. Except for "bosses," most "bad guys" can be dispatched with one
       hit. 
    C. You often fare better against a large mob of "bad guys"
       then against a "boss" in one on one combat.

6. "Bosses" always hire henchmen weaker then they are to do their
   'muscle work'.

7. If you see food lying on the ground, eat it.

8. You can smash things and get away with it.
    A. Smashing things doesn't hurt.
    B. Many nice things are hidden inside other things.

9. Cybernetics are our friends.

10. When driving, you can knock other vehicles off the road and get
    away with it.

11. If someone dies, they disappear.

12. Money is frequently found lying on the streets.

13. All shopkeepers carry high-tech weaponry.

14. If you get mad enough, you can fight even better than normal. 

15. If it's on the ground, you should get it. 

16. Repulsive, ugly, cannabalistic, evil beings have just as much
    right to be loved as heroic fighters.

17. The operation of a weapon is a simple and obvious procedure.

18. You never run out of ammunition, just grenades.

19. No matter how long you fight, you can always fight again.

20. Death is reversible (but only for you!).

21. Ninjas are common, and fight in public frequently.

22. Whenever huge fat evil men are about to die, they begin flashing
    red or yellow.

23. When you are born, you drop out of the sky  (a stork?) and are
    completely invincible for a short time.

24. Although the enemy always has more aircraft than you, they fly in
    elaborate patterns which make it easier for you to shoot them all
    down.

25. All martial (marital?) arts women wear revealing clothes and have
    great bodies.

26. All martial arts men have rippling muscles and angry expressions.

27. The enemy always leaves weapons or powerups lying around for no
    reason other than so their bitter enemy can pick them up and
    defeat them with it.

28. Shoot everything.  If it blows up or dies, it was evil.  If it
    doesn't, try and pick it up--- it was probably a powerup or bonus.

29. Carpe diem!  You only live three times! 

30. The most powerful fighters always wait until you have acheived a
    near-impossible, flawless win record and/or killed a certain 
    number of opponents before they appear in your presence and beat 
    the @#$#% out of you.

31. You sustain injury if you shoot innocents.

32. 200 - 1 odds against you is NOT a problem.

33. gang members frequently all look the same, and often have the
    same names.

34. When racing vehicles, do not worry if your vehicle crashes and
    explodes. A new vehicle will appear in its place.
+---------------------------------------------+
[forwarded by Chris Gill]

What I Want In A Man, Original List
-----------------------------------
1. Handsome
2. Charming
3. Financially Successful
4. A Caring Listener
5. Witty
6. In Good Shape
7. Dresses with Style
8. Appreciates the Finer Things
9. Full of Thoughtful Surprises
10. An Imaginative, Romantic Lover

What I Want In A Man, Revised List
----------------------------------
1. Not too ugly
2. Doesn't belch or scratch in public
3. Works steady
4. Doesn't nod off while I'm emoting
5. Usually remembers the punchlines of jokes
6. Is in good enough shape to rearrange the furniture
7. Usually wears matching socks and fresh underwear
8. Knows not to buy champagne with screw-top lids
9. Remembers to put the toilet seat lid down
10. Shaves on weekends
+---------------------------------------------+
[from GCFL]

A man was blissfully driving along the highway, when he saw the
Easter Bunny hopping across the middle of the road. He swerved to
avoid hitting the Bunny, but unfortunately the rabbit jumped in
front of his car and was hit.  The basket of eggs went flying all
over the place.  Candy, too.

The driver, being a sensitive man as well as an animal lover, pulled
over to the side of the road, and got out to see what had become of
the Bunny carrying the basket. Much to his dismay, the colorful Bunny
was dead.

The driver felt guilty and began to cry.

A woman driving down the same highway saw the man crying on the side
of the road and pulled over.   She stepped out of her car and asked
the man what was wrong.

"I feel terrible," he explained, "I accidentally hit the Easter Bunny
and killed it. There may not be an Easter because of me.  What should
I do? "

The woman told the man not to worry. She knew exactly what to do. She
went to her car trunk, and pulled out a spray can. She walked over to
the limp, dead Bunny, and sprayed the entire contents of the can onto
the little furry animal.

Miraculously the Easter Bunny came to back life, jumped up, picked up
the spilled eggs and candy, waved its paw at the two humans and hopped
on down the road.  50 yards away the Easter Bunny stopped, turned
around, waved and hopped on down the road another 50 yards, turned,
waved, hopped another 50 yards and waved again!!!!

The man was astonished.

He said to the woman, "What in heaven's name is in your spray can?
What was it that you sprayed on the Easter Bunny?"

The woman turned the can around so that the man could read the label.

It said: "Hair spray.  Restores life to dead hair.  Adds permanent
wave."
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Les Pourciau, via UGA Humor List]

                            SquishTeX

 Is your manuscript 213 words too long with the deadline in 10
 minutes?  Do the last two citations run over the 10-page limit?  Are
 your lines already running off the page?  Is the move from 5-point to
 4-point looking inevitable?

                         *** NO MORE ***

 Now, No-Knuthing Technologies presents SquishTeX, the first
 typesetting program with a compression coefficient, $\alpha$, that
 allows you to continuously vary the length of your document from
 original size to zero without ever violating journal submission
 guidelines.  If $\alpha = 1$, SquishTeX performs in the same
 uncompromising, idyllic fashion as the original TeX.

 As $\alpha$ is decreased towards 0, SquishTeX uses a variety of
 proprietary devices to cleverly condense your text.

         * Substitution of almost-equivalent citations, but with
           shorter names and fewer authors.  Elimination of citations 
           of authors unlikely to be on review boards.

         * Elision of unnecessarily pompous literary devices: 
           adjectives, adverbs and prepositions, for instance.

         * Automatic use of thesaurus to find short equivalents of 
           long words:

                         relativistic -> fast
                         superlative -> rad
                         1.56 * 10^37 -> a lot

         * Elimination of vowels and consonants that seem "obvious
           enough".

         * Wide-scale deletion of mindless drivel.

         * Use of the "you can guess the rest" syntactic construct.

 Turn a 200 page thesis into an 8 page conference paper ($\alpha =
 .04$)! No document is too complex.  New users will marvel at the
 sophisticated foreign air about their papers!
+---------------------------------------------+
[from HAND!]

****     The "We Were Poor" Sketch                       ****
****     From "Monty Python Live at City Center" and     ****
****     "Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl"       ****

Four well-dressed men sitting together at a vacation resort. 
"Farewell to Thee" being played in the background on Hawaiian guitar.

Michael Palin:  Ahh.. Very passable, this, very passable.
Graham Chapman: Nothing like a good glass of Chateau de Chassilier
                wine, ay Gessiah?
Terry Gilliam:  You're right there Obediah.
Eric Idle:      Who'd a thought thirty years ago we'd all be sittin'
                here drinking Chateau de Chassilier wine?

MP: Aye.  In them days, we'd a' been glad to have the price of a cup 
    o' tea.
GC: A cup ' COLD tea.
EI: Without milk or sugar.
TG: OR tea!
MP: In a filthy, cracked cup.
EI: We never used to have a cup.  We used to have to drink out of a
    rolled up newspaper.
GC: The best WE could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth. 
TG: But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor. 
MP: Aye.  BECAUSE we were poor.  My old Dad used to say to me, "Money
    doesn't buy you happiness."
EI: 'E was right.  I was happier then and I had NOTHIN'.  We used to
    live in this tiiiny old house, with greaaaaat big holes in the
    roof.
GC: House?  You were lucky to have a HOUSE!  We used to live in one
    room, all hundred and twenty-six of us, no furniture.  Half the
    floor was missing; we were all huddled together in one corner for
    fear of FALLING!
TG: You were lucky to have a ROOM!  *We* used to have to live in a
    corridor!
MP: Ohhhh we used to DREAM of livin' in a corridor!  Woulda' been a
    palace to us.  We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish
    tip.  We got woken up every morning by having a load of rotting
    fish dumped all over us!  House!?  Hmph.
EI: Well when I say "house" it was only a hole in the ground covered
    by a piece of tarpolin, but it was a house to US.
GC: We were evicted from *our* hole in the ground; we had to go and
    live in a lake!
TG: You were lucky to have a LAKE!  There were a hundred and sixty
    of us living in a small shoebox in the middle of the road.
MP: Cardboard box?
TG: Aye.
MP: You were lucky.  We lived for three months in a brown paper bag in
    a septic tank.  We used to have to get up at six o'clock in the
    morning, clean the bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work
    down mill for fourteen hours a day week in-week out.  When we got
    home, out Dad would thrash us to sleep with his belt!
GC: Luxury.  We used to have to get out of the lake at three o'clock
    in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of hot gravel, go 
    to work at the mill every day for tuppence a month, come home, 
    and Dad would beat us around the head and neck with a broken 
    bottle, if we were LUCKY!
TG: Well we had it tough.  We used to have to get up out of the
    shoebox at twelve o'clock at night, and LICK the road clean with 
    our tongues. We had half a handful of freezing cold gravel, 
    worked twenty-four hours a day at the mill for fourpence every 
    six years, and when we got home, our Dad would slice us in two 
    with a bread knife.
EI: Right.  I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night,
    half an hour before I went to bed, (pause for laughter), eat a
    lump of cold poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and
    pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got
    home, our Dad would kill us, and dance about on our graves singing
    "Hallelujah."
MP: But you try and tell the young people today that... and they won't
    believe ya'.
ALL: Nope, nope..
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Kitty's Daily Mews]

RESERVATIONS OF AN AIRLINE AGENT

(After Surviving 130,000 Calls From The Traveling Public)
     By: Jonathan Lee -- The Washington Post
~Dedicated to all the people out there on the phones every day.~

I work in a central reservation office of an airline company.  After
more than 130,000 conversations -- all ending with "Have a nice day
and thanks for calling" -- I think it's fair to say that I'm a
survivor. 

I've made it through all the calls from adults who didn't know the
difference between a.m.  and p.m., from mothers of military recruits
who didn't trust their little soldiers to get it right, from the woman
who called to get advice on how to handle her teenage daughter, from
the man who wanted to ride inside the kennel with his dog so he
wouldn't have to pay for a seat, from the woman who wanted to know why
she had to change clothes on our flight between Chicago and Washington
(she was told she'd have to make a change between the two cities) and
from the man who asked if I'd like to discuss the existential humanism
that emanates from the soul of Habeeb. 

In five years, I've received more than a boot camp education regarding
the astonishing lack of awareness of our American citizenry.  This
lack of awareness encompasses every region of the country, economic
status, ethnic background, and level of education.  My battles have
included everything from a man not knowing how to spell the name of
the town he was from, to another not recognizing the name of "Iowa" as
being a state, to another who thought he had to apply for a foreign
passport to fly to West Virginia. 

They are the enemy and they are everywhere.  In the history of the
world there has never been as much communication and new things to
learn as today.  Yet, after asking a woman from New York what city she
wanted to go to in Arizona, she asked "Oh...is it a big place?" 

I talked to a woman in Denver who had never heard of Cincinnati, a man
in Minneapolis who didn't know there was more than one city in the
South ("wherever the South is"), a woman in Nashville who asked,
"Instead of paying for my ticket, can I just donate the money to the
National Cancer Society?", and a man in Dallas who tried to pay for
his ticket by sticking quarters in the pay phone he was calling from. 

I knew a full invasion was on the way when, shortly after signing on,
a man asked if we flew to exit 35 on the New Jersey Turnpike.  Then a
woman asked if we flew to area code 304.  And I knew I had been
shipped off to the front when I was asked, "When an airplane comes in,
does that mean it's arriving or departing?" I remembered the strict
training we had received -- four weeks of regimented classes on
airline codes, computer technology, and telephone behavior -- and it
allowed for no means of retaliation.  We were told, "it's real hell
out there and ya got no defense.  You're going to hear things so silly
you can't even make 'em up. You'll try to explain things to your
friends that you don't even believe yourself, and just when you think
you've heard it all, someone will ask if they can get a free
round-trip ticket to Europe by reciting 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'." 

It wasn't long before I suffered a direct hit from a woman who wanted
to fly to Hippopotamus, NY.  After assuring her that there was no such
city, she became irate and said it was a big city with a big airport.
I asked if Hippopotamus was near Albany or Syracuse.  It wasn't.  Then
I asked if it was near Buffalo.  "Buffalo!" she said.  "I knew it was
a big animal!" 

Then I crawled out of my bunker long enough to be confronted by a man
who tried to catch our flight in Maconga.  I told him I'd never heard
of Maconga and we certainly didn't fly to it.  But he insisted we did
and to prove it he showed me his ticket:  Macon, GA. 

I've done nothing during my conversational confrontations to indicate
that I couldn't understand English.  But after quoting the round-trip
fare the passenger just asked for, he'll always ask:  "...Is that
one-way?" I never understood why they always question if what I just
gave them is what they just asked for.  But I've survived to direct
the lost, correct the wrong, comfort the weary, teach U.S.  geography
and give tutoring in the spelling and pronunciation of American
cities.  I have been told things like:  "I can't go stand-by for your
flight because I'm in a wheelchair." 

I've been asked such questions as:  "I have a connecting flight to
Knoxville.  Does that mean the plane sticks to something?" And once a
man wanted to go to Illinois.  When I asked what city he wanted to go
to in Illinois, he said, "Cleveland, Ohio." After 130,000 little wars
of varying degrees, I'm a wise old veteran of the communication
conflict and can anticipate with accuracy what the next move by "them"
will be. Seventy-five percent won't have anything to write on.  Half
will not have thought about when they're returning.  A third won't
know where they're going; 10 percent won't care where they're going. 
A few won't care if they get back.  And James will be the first name
of half the men who call. But even if James doesn't care if he gets to
the city he never heard of; even if he thinks he has to change clothes
on our plane that may stick to something; even if he can't spell,
pronounce, or remember what city he's returning to, he'll get there
because I've worked very hard to make sure that he can.  Then with a
click of the phone, he'll become a part of my past and I'll be hoping
the next caller at least knows what day it is. Oh, and James..."Thanks
for calling and have a nice day."
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Stan Kegel]

This fellow checks into a Vegas hotel. The bellman hands him his key,
and he gives the bellman a big tip, and says, "Listen, can you get me
some Italian prostitutes, and send them up to the room?" 

Bellman, says, "Oh, yes, Sir. Right away, Sir." 

Guy says, "Now, they have to be Italian prostitutes, understand? And,
send lots of them." 

"Yes sir." 

Little later, girls start appearing at the door of his room. He
invites them in. Turns out he's a vampire. He drinks their blood and,
then, pushes them off the balcony. 

The bellman is going out to get luggage and is hit several times by
the falling bodies. He tells the manager who calls the police. The
police arrive and question the bellman, asking him "What's going on?"

He says, "All I know is ... drained wops keep falling on my head."
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Laugh-a-Lot! see bottom for full details]

~~~  30 Minutes to a Clean House  ~~~

Or, "15 Secret Shortcuts to Good Housekeeping that your mother never
told you."


 Secret Tip 1: DOOR LOCKS
   If a room clearly can't be whipped into shape in 30 days, much less
   30 minutes, employ the "Locked Door Method" of cleaning. Tell
   anyone who tries to go in the room that you accidentally locked the
   door and, gosh darn it, you can't find the key. Of course, the
   locksmith can't possibly come until tomorrow. CAUTION: It is not
   advisable to use this tip for the bathroom. (Time: 2 seconds)

 Secret Tip 2: DUCT TAPE
   No home should be without an ample supply.  Not only is it handy
   for plumbing repairs, but it's a great way to hem drapes, table-
   cloths, clothes, just about anything.  No muss, no fuss! (Time: 3
   minutes)

 Secret Tip 3: OVENS
   If you think ovens are just for baking, think again. Ovens repre-
   sent at least 9 cubic feet of hidden storage space, which means
   they're a great place to shove dirty dishes, dirty clothes, or just
   about anything you want to get out of sight when company's coming.
   (Time: 2 minutes)

 Secret Tip 4: CLOTHES DRYER
   Like Secret Tip 3, except bigger!  CAUTION: Avoid hiding flammable
   objects here. (Time: 2.5 minutes)

 Secret Tip 5: WASHING MACHINE & FREEZER
   Like Secret Tip 4, except even bigger!!!
   (Time: 3 minutes)

 Secret Tip 6: DUST RUFFLES
    No bed should be without one. Devotees of Martha Stewart believe
    dust ruffles exist to keep dust out from under a bed or to help
    coordinate the colorful look of a bedroom.  The rest of us know a
    dust ruffle's highest and best use is to hide whatever you've
    managed to shove under the bed.  (Refer to Secret Tips 3, 4, 5.)
    (Time: 4 minutes)

 Secret Tip 7: DUSTING
    The 30-Minutes-To-A-Clean-House method says: "Never dust under
    what you can dust around." (Time: 3 minutes)

 Secret Tip 8: DISHES
    Don't use them!  Two words: Paper. Plastic. (Just kidding!)
    (Time: 1 minute, if you do.)

 Secret Tip 9: CLOTHES WASHING
    This secret tip is brought to you by an inventive teenager.
    When this teen's mother went on a housekeeping strike for a month,
    the teen discovered you can extend the life of your underwear by
    two ...if you turn it wrong side out and, yes, rerun it. CAUTION:
    This tip is recommended only for teens and those who don't care if
    they get in a car wreck. (Time: 3 seconds)

 Secret Tip 10: IRONING
    If an article of clothing doesn't require a full press and your
    hair does, a curling iron is the answer.  In between curling your
    hair, use the hot wand to iron minor wrinkles out of your clothes!
    Yes, it really does work, ...or so I'm told, by other disciples of
    the 30-Minutes-To-A-Clean-House philosophy. (Time: 5 minutes
    (Includes curling your hair.))

 Secret Tip 11: VACUUMING
    Stick to the middle of the room, which is the only place people
    look. Don't bother vacuuming under furniture.  It takes way too
    long and no one looks there anyway. (Time: 5 minutes, entire
    house; 2 minutes, living room only)

 Secret Tip 12: LIGHTING
    The key here is low, low, and lower!  It's not only romantic, but
    bad lighting can hide a multitude of dirt. (Time: 10 seconds)

 Secret Tip 13: BED MAKING
    Get an old-fashioned waterbed.  No one can tell if those things
    are made up or not, saving you, oh, hundreds of minutes over the
    course of a lifetime. (Time: 0)

 Secret Tip 14: SHOWERS, TOILETS, SINKS
    Forget one and two.  Concentrate on three.
    (Time: 1 minute)

 Secret Tip 15: GUESTS
    If you already knew at least 10 of these tips, don't even think
    about inviting a Martha Stewart type to your home. (Time: 0)

~~~~~ Sent by Laugh-A-Lot!  - The daily clean-jokes-only list! ~~~~~ *
To join or leave the list, email: <laughalot-request@graceweb.org>
Send the message:  SUBSCRIBE  or  UNSUBSCRIBE  (No other words!) *
Send new clean jokes to: jokes@graceweb.org * No cows were shot, blown
up, or injured to manufacture this email. * Joke Compilations (c)1998;
Permission granted to forward, or post on other lists/sites; if this
notice is fully included, thanks! *

+---------------------------------------------+
[from Keith's Mostly Clean Humor & Weird List]

THE MOST NUTRITIOUS DISH:  POTATO BRAINS

[Submitter's note:  This is based on the urban myth of restaurants in
the far east where they eat live monkey brains]

While on a vacation to Idaho I was witness to a horrible local custom.

We were invited to a local restaurant called "The Spud Cafe."

A special table had been set up in the middle of the room with a  hole
cut in the middle.  A large russet potato was wheeled in on a cart and
its top was stuck through the hole in the table and secured with set
screws.

Each of the guests took turn having a whack at the top of the of the
helpless potato, which blinked its eyes in agony.  Finally one of the
guests broke it open and the group proceeded to devour it live!

I was so shocked and disgusted that I've eaten nothing but beef since.

Wang (don't ask me what happened when I went to an American restaurant
and asked them to take care of my pet head of lettuce while I ate)
Chung
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Stan Kegel]

Three Riddles (Puns)

(1) Late in the last century, the Stocking Gang were notorious cattle
rustlers in the Chimney Hill area near Austin. These Nair-do-wells
were the bane of the more staid ranchers living in the area. For many
years, they did their deeds with impunity. Finally, they were captured
near their home and subjected to the rough version of frontier
justice. What was their fate?

(2) As they grew older, the Stocking sisters grew increasingly unhappy
with their lot in life. Men had much more fun and clearly were the
superior sex. They tried to arrange for an operation to make the
necessary changes, but, found it very difficult to find a competant
physician who would do it on an outpatient basis. Finally they were
able to make contact with a reliable reconstructive  urologist who was
willing to do the surgery at home in front of the fireplace. What was
the outcome?

(3) Bill and Mary Stocking had four children, Andy, Nora, Susie, and
Sylvia, and a poodle named Care. It was their tradition to hang their
Christmas socks, on the mantel in hopes that Santa would put something
in them. Even their dog had a sock, which was a little replica of
himself. What happened on Christmas Eve? 

.
.
.
.
.
.

Answers:... The Stockings were hung by the chimney with care. 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Steven & Susan, via UGA Humor List]

Dakota tribal wisdom says that when you discover you are riding a dead
horse, the best strategy is to dismount.

In business, however, it seems that we often try other strategies with
dead horses, including the following:

1.   Buying a stronger whip.
2.   Changing riders.
3.   Saying things like "This is the way we always have ridden this   
     horse." 
4.   Appointing a committee to study the horse. 
5.   Arranging to visit other sites to see how they ride dead horses. 
6.   Increasing the standards to ride dead horses. 
7.   Appointing a tiger team to revive the dead horse. 
8.   Creating a training session to increase our riding ability. 
9.   Comparing the state of dead horses in today's environment. 
10.  Change the requirements declaring that "This horse is not dead." 
11.  Hire contractors to ride the dead horse. 
12.  Harnessing several dead horses together for increased speed. 
13.  Declaring that "No horse is too dead to beat." 
14.  Providing additional funding to increase the horse's 
     performance. 
15.  Do a CA Study to see if contractors can ride it cheaper. 
16.  Purchase a product to make dead horses run faster. 
17.  Declare the horse is "better, faster and cheaper" dead. 
18.  Form a quality circle to find uses for dead horses. 
19.  Revisit the performance requirements for horses. 
20.  Say this horse was procured with cost as an independent
     variable. 
21.  Promote the dead horse to a supervisory position.
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Larry Doering, via Keith's Mostly Clean Humor & Weird List]

THE CASE OF THE CREEPING CAT

I was lying on the couch, grooming my left rear leg.  Bars of light
slanted across the room through the venetian blinds.  I woulda had a
bottle of hooch and a glass handy, but the Humans put the vodka in
the freezer.  Too high for me to reach, damn the luck.  Business had
been thin lately.  I was just thinking about jumping up on the
windowsill to check out the action on the birdfeeder next door when
the phone rang.

I ran to the bedroom RUN RUN RUN SKID POUNCE! and knocked the phone
off the cradle.  "Mrrroww?" I said.  My tail curled into a question
mark. Silence.  Then I heard something - distant purring?  I mewed
plaintively, just in case.  Click, then the dial tone.  Damn.  The
second time today.  Someone was playing cat and mouse.  I gradually
coaxed the handset back in place.  Man, that thing is heavy.  I ran
crazily around the apartment several times, just for luck, and...
oops, time for food.  The case would have to wait.

Back on the couch, I licked myself all over and pondered.  There was
something fishy about those phone calls -- I could smell it.  My
claws extended involuntarily, and I kneaded the upholstery for a
while. Hmm. Patches was doing time in San Quentin, but maybe one of
her torpedoes was prowling around.  Or who knows -- maybe those damn
tomcats from Miss Puff's gang wanted revenge.  I'd made a lot of
enemies in my career.

Suddenly there was a flash of movement at the other window.  My ears
pricked up.  GO GO GO adjust my back feet for traction POUNCE onto
the end table!  Crash!  Aw nuts, didn't see that beer bottle.  I
stared out at the ratty calico with the notched ear on the outside
sill.  Her ears went back, and she hissed.  This kind of trouble I
didn't need. I locked my stare on to her, bristling slightly, until
she looked away. Oh yeah, lick your paw like nothing just happened, I
thought.

She gave me a low growl.  "Stay away from the big tree at the edge
of the parking lot, get me?" she gritted.  "That's my territory.  I
chase the squirrels down there, see, and I don't need any two-bit
gumshoe horning in on the action."

Something clicked.  Yeah, I'd seen her before.  Used to be a B-girl
down at the Kit Kat Club.  Rap sheet twice the length of my tail.  I
hear her Human calls her Snuggykins now, but I'd seen her yowling
and dragging her butt down the gutter plenty of times when she was in
heat in the old days.

I combed my whiskers with my paw.  "Quit pussyfooting around," I
said. "We both know you didn't come here to talk about squirrels. 
Give."

She gave me an innocent look.  "Don't they say curiosity killed the
cat?" she purred.  I felt my tail switching back and forth in
irritation.  "They say a lot of things," I growled back.  I woulda
slugged her, if the screen hadn't been in the way.

She looked around.  "This is strictly on the Q.T.," she whispered,
"but I hear Pumpkin and Sheba are gettin' kinda tired of you
prowling around their operation.  Keep your paws outta their cat
dish, OK?  Be a shame if some kind of *accident* knocked off a couple
of your lives. I hear you're down to five or so."

Just then, we heard a car turning into the parking lot.  She
stiffened, then jumped down and crept around the corner of the
building.  I raked the screen with my claws in frustration.  The car
pulled up and stopped.  Could it...?  I mewed.  Yes!  My Humans!
They were home! Meow meow meow!  I heard a key in the door, and ran
over. All RIGHT! Cat toy!  Cat toy!  Make it MOVE!  Food food food
KITTY TREATS KITTY TREATS!  "Hi, Franny," my smaller Human said.
"How was your day?"

She picked me up.  Man, I HATE that.  Let me down!  Mew!  Cat toy,
no hugs!  Cat toy!  CAT TOY!  She stroked my head.  My larger Human
looked over and saw the broken glass under the table by the window.
"Sheesh, Franny," he said.  "Did you do that?"  Aw, hell.  I arched
my back slightly and relaxed.  Purr purr purr.  Beer bottle?  Little
old me? Somebody *else* did *that*.  Look how cute I am.  Oh yeah,
scratch under my jaw.  Oh baby.

Later, when they were in bed watching TV, I saw something moving
under the blanket.  SMALL ANIMAL!  POUNCE?  But wait.  Every time I
attack, it stops moving.  Maybe it's just the small Human's hand,
like it was the last forty-seven times.  But what if it's really a
SMALL ANIMAL? No. Maybe it is.  Maybe it IS!  Tense tense TENSE
TENSE wiggle butt POUNCE!

D'oh!  It was her hand again.  I turned away and started licking my
paw.  Didn't fool me, nuh-uh.  I curled up on the blanket.  I'd
solve the Case of the Creeping Cat tomorrow.  Big yawn.  Purr purr
purr. 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Stan Kegel]

The Racoon Coat (A Shaggy Dog Story)

WARNING: Although some like Dr. Quinn will call this a pun, not a
shaggy dog story, it meets the requirements for a shaggy dog story. A
shaggy dog story is a joke which if short might get a smile or laugh
but is deliberatively made very long with repetitions to the point
that when the punch line is finally reached it falls flat and you feel
violated that you were forced to read or listen to such a story for
such a lousy ending.

If you dislike puns, you will detest shaggy dog stories. Read at your
own peril.

Now the story:

Back in the roaring twenties raccoon coats were the rage, especially
among the college set in the ivy league schools. Just any raccoon coat
wouldn't do. It had to be a full length duster almost reaching the
floor to really be in style. John, a young man with a very rich but
miserly father who was entering his freshman year at Harvard was
surprised to learn when he moved into the dorm that he just couldn't
fit in without a raccoon coat. He pleaded with his father that he just
had to have a raccoon coat or would never make it at school.

After several letters back and forth his father agreed to purchase a
beautiful coat on one condition. The condition was that the coat must
not be damaged in any way during the next four years. If there was any
damage to the coat at all after four years the John would be
disinherited and have to go find a job on his own. He would not be 
allowed to join the father in his very prosperous business. John 
quickly agreed to the conditions without thinking of the 
implications.

The father bought the best raccoon coat money could buy, then had
several members of his staff count the number of hairs on the coat.
They found there were exactly 1,524,203 hairs. A second group of staff
members recounted and confirmed there were 1,524,203 hairs. The coat
was then carefully sealed in a package and sent off to Harvard with a
note informing the John of the hair count.

When John received the coat he was overjoyed that his ostracism by his
fellow students was soon to end. Then he read the enclosed letter. He
showed the coat to all his friend but was afraid to wear it under any
circumstances for fear of damaging it in some manner. After everyone
had seen the coat he resealed it in its box and placed it on the shelf
in his closet. He often showed the coat to new friends but could never
work up the courage to wear it until his senior year.

Harvard was playing Yale for the conference championship in football.
He bought nine tickets to the game, three seats behind his, the seats
to either side, and the three seats in front. He was going to be
damned sure no one spilled drink or mustard on his beloved coat. He
didn't enjoy the game at all because of his concern for his coat.
Immediately after the game he returned the coat to the closet where 
it had been for three years after carefully spending several hours 
recounting the hairs. All 1,524,203 were intact but after such a 
tedious job he made a mistake. He didn't reseal the bag in which he 
had been storing the coat these many years.

During the night a campus moth crawled under the door of the closet,
fluttered up onto the box and crawled inside. He had a feast but being
a small moth one hair was all his tiny stomach could hold. He emerged
from the box, fluttered from the closet and flew up onto the light
fixture to get warm and have a nap. The next day the hapless student
decided to recheck the hair-count. It took him hours but when finished
he knew he was in trouble. There were only 1,524,202 hairs. He wailed
in despair at the top of his lungs. All his fraternity brothers came
running into the room expecting the worst.

John recounted the whole story about his fathers conditions and his
impending fate. In all the commotion the little moth asleep on the
light fixture awakened. He listened to the story in amazement. As the
whole story unfolded the moth became terribly sad ...

Have you ever seen a moth bawl?
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Wit & Wisdom - note: this is BOTH parts.  JO only got the 
first half]

TAX DEDUCTIONS I WOULD LIKE TO TAKE  
by Joni Hilton in Family Circle

- All money lost while playing Monopoly (double if lost to one's
teenager, for "humiliation compensation").

- All money spent on chocolate (which act as an antidepressant and
should be a deductible medical expense).

- $10 for every cookbook you own beyond the three you really use.

- $100 for every day your life had been turned upside-down as workmen
overrun you home doing a remodeling job.  (Call it "workers' comp,"
even though there's no compensation large enough for this special kind
of suffering.)

- $25 per minute for listening to any explanations or promises by a
politician during an election year (call it an "entertainment
deduction").

- $50 for every diet you have tried this past year that didn't work) a
new kind of "capital gains" deduction).

- School materials fee, if the only thing your child learned this year
was the Batman version of "Jingle Bells."

- Gas and travel expense for attending important one-day-only sales.

- Cost of any horn or drum lessons for your kids, during the first six
years of study (additional $5 earplug and aspirin deduction).

- The cost of your husband's exercise equipment that he never uses
($10 per pound of equipment, plus $10 per pound of husband).

- $100 for all worthless items purchased at a garage sale, which you
them have to unload at your own sale.

- $50 per missed message when the answering machine, through no fault
of your own, fails to convince callers to leave their names and
numbers ($500 if you finally give up and sell your machine at that
garage sale).

- Any repairs incurred within six months of any expired warranty.
(Government must recognize that this is when all repairs occur.)

- $500 "anxiety exemption" for every mousetrap purchased ($500 extra
if it doesn't work; $1,000 if it does).

- The portion of your phone bill incurred by a teenager (multiple
deductions for multiple teenagers).

- $100 every time your mother calls, and instead of rushing her, you
make her laugh ("you turned out pretty well" deduction).

- $5 for every mosquito bite acquired on a Scout overnight ("doing
one's American duty" deduction).

- A dollar for every diaper changed (a buck-fifty if it's . . . you
know what).

- $100 for every time you're in the car and your recommend that your
husband, who's driving, ask for directions and he actually does it
("one small step for mankind" deduction).

- $1 for every plastic bag that you have painstakingly saved in
another bag ("good intentions to recycle" deduction).

- $3,000 puppy exemption, for housebreaking of any canine (includes
reimbursement for chewed-up shoes and furniture).

- $50 for every "A" on any report card that comes through your door
("behind every good student is a mother who sat up until 3 a.m.
coloring a map of Africa" deduction).

- $30 for every bad hair day.

- $25 for every invitation to serve on a committee that you turn down,
assuming you are already booked to the gills ("finally learned to say
no" deduction).

- All costs for bubble bath weekend retreats, fancy dinners and
massages. (Call it the "preservation of sanity" deduction.)
+---------------------------------------------+
