Nagasaki, 2011, after the Earthquake and Tsunami:
My question is, "What the feck is that arch made of?"
Node Corrode
5 Jul 2011
Arch-type
Nagasaki, 1945, after the Atomic Bomb:
Nagasaki, 2011, after the Earthquake and Tsunami:
My question is, "What the feck is that arch made of?"
Node Corrode
Nagasaki, 2011, after the Earthquake and Tsunami:
My question is, "What the feck is that arch made of?"
Node Corrode
14 Feb 2011
Irish Stereotype Time...
Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn't find a parking place.
Looking up to heaven he said, 'Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me Irish Whiskey!'
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
Paddy looked up again and said, 'Never mind, I found one.'
Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal, and asks the first man he meets, 'Do ye want to go to heaven?'
The man said, 'I do, Father.'
The priest said, 'Then stand over there against the wall.'
Then the priest asked the second man, 'Do ye want to go to heaven?'
'Certainly, Father,' the man replied.
'Then stand over there against the wall,' said the priest.
Then Father Murphy walked up to O'Toole and asked, 'Do you want to go to heaven?'
O'Toole said, 'No, I don't Father.'
The priest said, 'I don't believe this. Ye mean to tell me that when ye die ye don't want to go to heaven?'
O'Toole said, 'Oh, when I die, yes, right enough. I thought ye were getting a group together to go right now.'
Paddy was in New York, patiently waiting and watching the traffic cop on a busy street crossing. The cop stopped the flow of traffic and shouted, 'Okay, pedestrians.' Then he'd allow the traffic to pass.
He'd done this several times, and Paddy still stood on the sidewalk.
After the cop had shouted, 'Pedestrians!' for the tenth time, Paddy went over to him and said, 'Is it not about time ye let the Catholics across?'
Gallagher opened the morning newspaper and was dumbfounded to read in the obituary column that he had died. He quickly phoned his best friend, Finney.
'Did ye see the paper?' asked Gallagher. 'They say I died!'
'Yes, I saw it!' replied Finney. 'Where are ye callin' from?'
An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut. The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest's breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car.
He asks, 'Sir, have you been drinking?'
'Just water,' says the priest.
The trooper asks, 'Then why do I smell wine?'
The priest looks at the bottle and says, 'Good Lord! He's done it again!'
Walking into the bar, Mike said to Charlie the bartender, 'Pour me a stiff one - just had another fight with the little woman.'
'Oh yeah?' said Charlie, 'And how did this one end?'
'When it was over,' Mike replied, 'She came to me on her hands and knees.'
'Really,' said Charles, 'Now that makes for a change! What did she say?'
'Come out from under the bed, ye feckin' chicken.'
Patton staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Kathleen.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his arse. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Patton sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his arse cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of sticking plasters and began putting one as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty plaster box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Patton woke up with a searing pain in both his head and arse and Kathleen staring at him from across the room.
She said, 'You were feckin' drunk again last night weren't you?'
Patton said, 'Why d'ye say such a mean thing?'
'Well,' Kathleen said, 'it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes.
But mostly, it's all those feckin' plasters stuck on the hall mirror.'
Node Corrode
Looking up to heaven he said, 'Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me Irish Whiskey!'
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
Paddy looked up again and said, 'Never mind, I found one.'
Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal, and asks the first man he meets, 'Do ye want to go to heaven?'
The man said, 'I do, Father.'
The priest said, 'Then stand over there against the wall.'
Then the priest asked the second man, 'Do ye want to go to heaven?'
'Certainly, Father,' the man replied.
'Then stand over there against the wall,' said the priest.
Then Father Murphy walked up to O'Toole and asked, 'Do you want to go to heaven?'
O'Toole said, 'No, I don't Father.'
The priest said, 'I don't believe this. Ye mean to tell me that when ye die ye don't want to go to heaven?'
O'Toole said, 'Oh, when I die, yes, right enough. I thought ye were getting a group together to go right now.'
Paddy was in New York, patiently waiting and watching the traffic cop on a busy street crossing. The cop stopped the flow of traffic and shouted, 'Okay, pedestrians.' Then he'd allow the traffic to pass.
He'd done this several times, and Paddy still stood on the sidewalk.
After the cop had shouted, 'Pedestrians!' for the tenth time, Paddy went over to him and said, 'Is it not about time ye let the Catholics across?'
Gallagher opened the morning newspaper and was dumbfounded to read in the obituary column that he had died. He quickly phoned his best friend, Finney.
'Did ye see the paper?' asked Gallagher. 'They say I died!'
'Yes, I saw it!' replied Finney. 'Where are ye callin' from?'
An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut. The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest's breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car.
He asks, 'Sir, have you been drinking?'
'Just water,' says the priest.
The trooper asks, 'Then why do I smell wine?'
The priest looks at the bottle and says, 'Good Lord! He's done it again!'
Walking into the bar, Mike said to Charlie the bartender, 'Pour me a stiff one - just had another fight with the little woman.'
'Oh yeah?' said Charlie, 'And how did this one end?'
'When it was over,' Mike replied, 'She came to me on her hands and knees.'
'Really,' said Charles, 'Now that makes for a change! What did she say?'
'Come out from under the bed, ye feckin' chicken.'
Patton staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Kathleen.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his arse. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Patton sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his arse cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of sticking plasters and began putting one as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty plaster box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Patton woke up with a searing pain in both his head and arse and Kathleen staring at him from across the room.
She said, 'You were feckin' drunk again last night weren't you?'
Patton said, 'Why d'ye say such a mean thing?'
'Well,' Kathleen said, 'it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes.
But mostly, it's all those feckin' plasters stuck on the hall mirror.'
Node Corrode
Bonked on the Head...
"If women are so bloody perfect at multitasking, how come they can't have a headache and sex at the same time?" - Billy Connolly.
Node Corrode
Node Corrode
1 H8FL Owner, GSOH...
FREE YORKSHIRE TERRIER.
8 years old.
Hateful little bastard.
Bites!
FREE PUPPIES.
1/2 Cocker Spaniel, 1/2 sneaky neighbour's dog.
FREE PUPPIES.
Mother is a Kennel Club registered German Shepherd.
Father is a Super Dog, able to leap tall fences in a single bound.
COWS, CALVES: NEVER BRED.
Also 1 gay bull for sale.
JOINING NUDIST COLONY!
Must sell washer and dryer £100.
WEDDING DRESS FOR SALE .
Worn once by mistake.
Call Stephanie.
FOR SALE BY OWNER.
Complete set of Encyclopedia Britannica, 45 volumes.
Excellent condition, £200 or best offer. No longer needed, got married, wife knows everything.
Node Corrode
8 years old.
Hateful little bastard.
Bites!
FREE PUPPIES.
1/2 Cocker Spaniel, 1/2 sneaky neighbour's dog.
FREE PUPPIES.
Mother is a Kennel Club registered German Shepherd.
Father is a Super Dog, able to leap tall fences in a single bound.
COWS, CALVES: NEVER BRED.
Also 1 gay bull for sale.
JOINING NUDIST COLONY!
Must sell washer and dryer £100.
WEDDING DRESS FOR SALE .
Worn once by mistake.
Call Stephanie.
FOR SALE BY OWNER.
Complete set of Encyclopedia Britannica, 45 volumes.
Excellent condition, £200 or best offer. No longer needed, got married, wife knows everything.
Node Corrode
9 Feb 2011
No Postal Code...
One day, little Mikey comes home from kindergarten and can't find his Mother. So he heads upstairs and opens her bedroom door.
To his surprise, he discovers his Dad stripped naked on top of his Mum,also naked, and both heavily into the sexual act. Not wanting to traumatize the boy, the parents continue to do what they were doing.
After a couple of minutes, Mikey asks, "Daddy, can I climb on top and have a horsey ride?"
Dad thinks for a second, "Of course Son, we're a family."
After a couple more minutes his Mother starts moaning and writhing wildly.
"Hang on tight Daddy!" cries Mikey, "This is where me and the mailman usually fall off!"
Node Corrode
To his surprise, he discovers his Dad stripped naked on top of his Mum,also naked, and both heavily into the sexual act. Not wanting to traumatize the boy, the parents continue to do what they were doing.
After a couple of minutes, Mikey asks, "Daddy, can I climb on top and have a horsey ride?"
Dad thinks for a second, "Of course Son, we're a family."
After a couple more minutes his Mother starts moaning and writhing wildly.
"Hang on tight Daddy!" cries Mikey, "This is where me and the mailman usually fall off!"
Node Corrode
8 Feb 2011
Matrimony-mony
A man will pay $2 for an item that costs $1 if he wants it.
A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't want because it's on sale.
A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.
A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.
A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.
A successful woman is one who can find that man.
To be happy with a man, you must understand him a lot and love him a little.
To be happy with a woman, you must love her a lot and don't expect to understand her at all.
Married men live longer than single men, but married men are a lot more willing to die.
Any married man can forget his past mistakes: there's no reason for two people to keep track of the same things.
A woman marries a man expecting him to change, and he doesn't.
A man marries a woman expecting her not to change, and she does.
A woman has the last word in any argument.
Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.
Node Corrode
A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't want because it's on sale.
A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.
A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.
A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.
A successful woman is one who can find that man.
To be happy with a man, you must understand him a lot and love him a little.
To be happy with a woman, you must love her a lot and don't expect to understand her at all.
Married men live longer than single men, but married men are a lot more willing to die.
Any married man can forget his past mistakes: there's no reason for two people to keep track of the same things.
A woman marries a man expecting him to change, and he doesn't.
A man marries a woman expecting her not to change, and she does.
A woman has the last word in any argument.
Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.
Node Corrode
4 Feb 2011
Love, Glove
A young man called Chris from London wanted to buy a Christmas present for his new girlfriend.
They hadn't been seeing each other for very long and she lived in Scotland.
Chris consulted with his sister and decided, after careful consideration, that a pair of good quality gloves would strike the right note ... not too romantic and not too personal.
Off he went with his sister to Harrods and they selected a dainty pair of fur lined quality leather gloves. His sister bought a pair of sexy knickers for herself at the same time.
Harrods had a free gift wrap offer but the assistant mixed up the two items, the sister got the gloves and Chris unknowingly got the knickers.
Good old Chris sent off his gift wrapped present in a parcel with the following letter:
Dear Maggie,
I chose these because I've noticed that you are not wearing any when we go out in the evenings. If it had not been for my sister I would have chosen the long ones with buttons, but she wears shorter ones (which are easier to remove).
These are a very delicate shade, but the lady I bought them from showed me the pair she had been wearing for the past three weeks and I hardly noticed any marks.
I had her try yours on for me and she looked really smart in them even though they were a little bit tight on her. She also said that they rub against her ring which helps keep it clean. In fact she hasn't needed to wash it since she began wearing them.
I wish I was there to put them on for you the first time, as no doubt many other hands will touch them before I have a chance to see you again.
When you take them off remember to blow into them a little bit because they will be naturally a little damp from wearing.
Just imagine how many times my lips will kiss them during the coming year.
I hope you will wear them for me on our next date.
All my love,
Chris
P.S. My mum tells me that the latest style is to wear them folded down with a little bit of fur showing.
Node Corrode
They hadn't been seeing each other for very long and she lived in Scotland.
Chris consulted with his sister and decided, after careful consideration, that a pair of good quality gloves would strike the right note ... not too romantic and not too personal.
Off he went with his sister to Harrods and they selected a dainty pair of fur lined quality leather gloves. His sister bought a pair of sexy knickers for herself at the same time.
Harrods had a free gift wrap offer but the assistant mixed up the two items, the sister got the gloves and Chris unknowingly got the knickers.
Good old Chris sent off his gift wrapped present in a parcel with the following letter:
Dear Maggie,
I chose these because I've noticed that you are not wearing any when we go out in the evenings. If it had not been for my sister I would have chosen the long ones with buttons, but she wears shorter ones (which are easier to remove).
These are a very delicate shade, but the lady I bought them from showed me the pair she had been wearing for the past three weeks and I hardly noticed any marks.
I had her try yours on for me and she looked really smart in them even though they were a little bit tight on her. She also said that they rub against her ring which helps keep it clean. In fact she hasn't needed to wash it since she began wearing them.
I wish I was there to put them on for you the first time, as no doubt many other hands will touch them before I have a chance to see you again.
When you take them off remember to blow into them a little bit because they will be naturally a little damp from wearing.
Just imagine how many times my lips will kiss them during the coming year.
I hope you will wear them for me on our next date.
All my love,
Chris
P.S. My mum tells me that the latest style is to wear them folded down with a little bit of fur showing.
Node Corrode
Cattus quod Canis Ephemeris
Excerpts from a Dog's Diary:
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk Bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Diary:
Day 983 of my captivity
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. Bastards.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was place in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe.
For now...
Node Corrode
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk Bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Diary:
Day 983 of my captivity
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. Bastards.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was place in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe.
For now...
Node Corrode
2 Feb 2011
I'm Batman!
Borrowed from the excellent ShortPacked online comic. If you like comics, movies, movies about comics, comics about movies, toys from movies or movies about toys, then it's a good place to be.
Node Corrode
Aids for the forgetful
The phone rings and the lady of the house answers.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Sanders, please."
"Speaking."
"Mrs. Sanders, this is Dr. Jones at the central LABCORP Laboratory. When your husband's doctor sent his biopsy to the lab last week, a biopsy from another Mr. Sanders arrived as well. We are now uncertain which one belongs to your husband. Frankly, either way the results are not too good."
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Sanders asks nervously.
"Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer's and the other one tested positive for HIV. We can't tell which is which."
"OMG! That's dreadful! Can you do the test again?" questioned Mrs. Sanders.
"Normally we can, but the new health care system will only pay for these expensive tests just one time."
"Well, what am I supposed to do now?"
"The folks at Government Health Care recommend that you drop your husband off somewhere in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don't sleep with him."
Node Corrode
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Sanders, please."
"Speaking."
"Mrs. Sanders, this is Dr. Jones at the central LABCORP Laboratory. When your husband's doctor sent his biopsy to the lab last week, a biopsy from another Mr. Sanders arrived as well. We are now uncertain which one belongs to your husband. Frankly, either way the results are not too good."
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Sanders asks nervously.
"Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer's and the other one tested positive for HIV. We can't tell which is which."
"OMG! That's dreadful! Can you do the test again?" questioned Mrs. Sanders.
"Normally we can, but the new health care system will only pay for these expensive tests just one time."
"Well, what am I supposed to do now?"
"The folks at Government Health Care recommend that you drop your husband off somewhere in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don't sleep with him."
Node Corrode
Them's the brakes...
A hip, wealthy young dude goes out and buys himself the best car available: a Bugatti Veyron 16.4.
It is the most expensive car in the world, and it sets him back just under £1 million. He takes it out for a spin and after a short while, has to stop for a red light.
An old man on a moped (both looking about 90 years old) pulls up next to him. The old man looks over the sleek, shiny surface of the car and asks, "What kind of car ya' got there, sonny?"
The young dude replies: "A Bugatti Veyron 16.4. It cost me £1 million, man."
"That sure is a lot of money" says the old man, shocked. "Why's it cost so much?
"Because this car can do up to 320 miles an hour!" states the dude proudly.
The moped driver asks, "Mind if I take a little look inside?"
"Sure," replies the owner.
The old man pokes his head in the window and looks around. Leaning back on his moped, the old man says "That's a pretty nice car, all right!"
Just then, the light changes, so the guy decides to show the old man what his car can do. He floors it, and within 30 seconds the speedometer reads 320 MPH.
Suddenly, he notices a dot in his rear view mirror. It seems to be getting... closer...
He slows down to see what it could be and suddenly - WHOOOSSSHH! - something whips by him, moving at an even greater speed.
"What the hell could be going faster than my Veyron?" the young dude asks himself.
Then, ahead of him, he sees a dot coming toward him...
WHOOOSSSHH!
It speeds by again, now heading in the opposite direction.
And... it almost looked like.. the old man on the moped.
"Couldn't be!" thinks the dude. "How could a moped outrun a Bugatti?"
Then, again, he sees a dot in his rear view mirror.
WHOOOSSSHHKa-BbblaMMM!
It plows into the back of his car, demolishing the rear end.
The young man jumps out, and, sweet baby Cheebus, it is the old man!
Of course the moped and the old man are hurting for certain.
He runs up to the now dying old man and says, "You're hurt really badly! Is there anything I can do for you?"
The old man groans and replies "You sure could sonny. Could'ya unhook my suspenders from your side-view mirror?"
Node Corrode
It is the most expensive car in the world, and it sets him back just under £1 million. He takes it out for a spin and after a short while, has to stop for a red light.
An old man on a moped (both looking about 90 years old) pulls up next to him. The old man looks over the sleek, shiny surface of the car and asks, "What kind of car ya' got there, sonny?"
The young dude replies: "A Bugatti Veyron 16.4. It cost me £1 million, man."
"That sure is a lot of money" says the old man, shocked. "Why's it cost so much?
"Because this car can do up to 320 miles an hour!" states the dude proudly.
The moped driver asks, "Mind if I take a little look inside?"
"Sure," replies the owner.
The old man pokes his head in the window and looks around. Leaning back on his moped, the old man says "That's a pretty nice car, all right!"
Just then, the light changes, so the guy decides to show the old man what his car can do. He floors it, and within 30 seconds the speedometer reads 320 MPH.
Suddenly, he notices a dot in his rear view mirror. It seems to be getting... closer...
He slows down to see what it could be and suddenly - WHOOOSSSHH! - something whips by him, moving at an even greater speed.
"What the hell could be going faster than my Veyron?" the young dude asks himself.
Then, ahead of him, he sees a dot coming toward him...
WHOOOSSSHH!
It speeds by again, now heading in the opposite direction.
And... it almost looked like.. the old man on the moped.
"Couldn't be!" thinks the dude. "How could a moped outrun a Bugatti?"
Then, again, he sees a dot in his rear view mirror.
WHOOOSSSHHKa-BbblaMMM!
It plows into the back of his car, demolishing the rear end.
The young man jumps out, and, sweet baby Cheebus, it is the old man!
Of course the moped and the old man are hurting for certain.
He runs up to the now dying old man and says, "You're hurt really badly! Is there anything I can do for you?"
The old man groans and replies "You sure could sonny. Could'ya unhook my suspenders from your side-view mirror?"
Node Corrode
I'm guano ask - did you ordure a mechanic?
A young blonde female stock broker was bored with driving her BMW. It lacked individuality and besides that, every other girl in the office had one. She fancied something a bit more individual, perhaps an MG convertible...
That week she visited her local car dealer and spied a beautiful Jaguar XK140 convertible. It was wonderfully restored and she fell in love with its gorgeous red paint job.
An empty cheque stub later and off she was tearing down the leafy country lanes, enjoying her beautiful new car. Her long blonde hair flowing in the wind, music blaring from the radio, what could possibly go wrong?
At that thought there was a sputter from the engine and the car slowly coasted to a stop. She got out and lifted the hood and concluded after a few minutes that she didn't have a bloody clue what was wrong.
Luckily she had her cell phone with her and after a quick phone call to the AutoClub and a short wait, she saw a bright shiny yellow truck pull up behind her.
"That's a lovely car," said the mechanic. "What seems to be the matter?"
"Well, it just conked out I'm afraid."
"Let me have look."
He set to work and ten minutes later the engine was purring like a cat again.
"Thank goodness," she said. "What was the matter?"
"Simple really, just crap in the carburetor," he replied.
Looking shocked she asked, "Oh, OK... How many times a week do I have to do that?"
Node Corrode
That week she visited her local car dealer and spied a beautiful Jaguar XK140 convertible. It was wonderfully restored and she fell in love with its gorgeous red paint job.
An empty cheque stub later and off she was tearing down the leafy country lanes, enjoying her beautiful new car. Her long blonde hair flowing in the wind, music blaring from the radio, what could possibly go wrong?
At that thought there was a sputter from the engine and the car slowly coasted to a stop. She got out and lifted the hood and concluded after a few minutes that she didn't have a bloody clue what was wrong.
Luckily she had her cell phone with her and after a quick phone call to the AutoClub and a short wait, she saw a bright shiny yellow truck pull up behind her.
"That's a lovely car," said the mechanic. "What seems to be the matter?"
"Well, it just conked out I'm afraid."
"Let me have look."
He set to work and ten minutes later the engine was purring like a cat again.
"Thank goodness," she said. "What was the matter?"
"Simple really, just crap in the carburetor," he replied.
Looking shocked she asked, "Oh, OK... How many times a week do I have to do that?"
Node Corrode
Ever witnessed so many Rebuttals, Indictments, and total Intestate Arsons?
Why does the Law Society prohibit sex between lawyers and their clients?
To prevent clients from being billed twice for essentially the same service.
What is the difference between a tick and a lawyer?
A tick falls off you when you die.
What's the difference between a dead dog on the road and a dead lawyer on the road?
There are skid marks in front of the dog.
What is black and brown and looks good on a lawyer?
A Doberman.
What do lawyers and sperm have in common?
One in 3,000,000 has a chance of becoming a human being.
Lawyer's creed: A man is innocent until proven broke.
You're trapped in a room with a Tiger, a Rattlesnake and a lawyer. You have a gun with two bullets. What should you do?
Shoot the lawyer. Twice.
What do you get when you cross a crooked lawyer with a sleazy politician?
Chelsea Clinton.
What's the difference between a female lawyer and a pitbull terrier?
Lipstick.
What do you have when 100 lawyers are buried up to their necks in sand?
Not enough sand.
Why has there never been a reported case of a shark biting a lawyer?
Professional courtesy.
Node Corrode
To prevent clients from being billed twice for essentially the same service.
What is the difference between a tick and a lawyer?
A tick falls off you when you die.
What's the difference between a dead dog on the road and a dead lawyer on the road?
There are skid marks in front of the dog.
What is black and brown and looks good on a lawyer?
A Doberman.
What do lawyers and sperm have in common?
One in 3,000,000 has a chance of becoming a human being.
Lawyer's creed: A man is innocent until proven broke.
You're trapped in a room with a Tiger, a Rattlesnake and a lawyer. You have a gun with two bullets. What should you do?
Shoot the lawyer. Twice.
What do you get when you cross a crooked lawyer with a sleazy politician?
Chelsea Clinton.
What's the difference between a female lawyer and a pitbull terrier?
Lipstick.
What do you have when 100 lawyers are buried up to their necks in sand?
Not enough sand.
Why has there never been a reported case of a shark biting a lawyer?
Professional courtesy.
Node Corrode
A mother was working in the kitchen and listening to her son playing with his new electric trains in the living room. She heard the train stop and her son said,
"All you sons of bitches who want to get off, get the hell off now because this is the last stop. All of you sons of bitches who are getting on, get your asses on the train now, because
we're leaving."
The mother went into the living room and told her son,
"We don't use that kind of language in this house. Now go to your room for two hours. When you calm down, you may play with your trains as long as you use proper language."
Two hours later, the mother was still working in the kitchen when her son came out of his room and resumed playing with his trains. The train stopped and the mother heard,
"All passengers who are disembarking the train, please remember to take your belongings. We thank you for riding with us today and hope your trip was a pleasant one.
For those just boarding, we ask that you stow your hand luggage under the seat and we hope you enjoy your trip. For those of you who are pissed off about the two hour delay, please see the
bitch in the kitchen..."
Node Corrode
"All you sons of bitches who want to get off, get the hell off now because this is the last stop. All of you sons of bitches who are getting on, get your asses on the train now, because
we're leaving."
The mother went into the living room and told her son,
"We don't use that kind of language in this house. Now go to your room for two hours. When you calm down, you may play with your trains as long as you use proper language."
Two hours later, the mother was still working in the kitchen when her son came out of his room and resumed playing with his trains. The train stopped and the mother heard,
"All passengers who are disembarking the train, please remember to take your belongings. We thank you for riding with us today and hope your trip was a pleasant one.
For those just boarding, we ask that you stow your hand luggage under the seat and we hope you enjoy your trip. For those of you who are pissed off about the two hour delay, please see the
bitch in the kitchen..."
Node Corrode
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