Humour the best of medicine

[Varley]

That would make the scale on an analogue tricky to interpolate too.

[BobClay]

Tricky, but do-able. (Although I can't deny the resolution would be a bit on cr@p side ... )

[Naytikos]

I am not one who remembers jokes, however having done some water divining for a local goat farm last week, this is dredged from the depths:

Two goats were roaming in the hills overlooking Hollywood (Ca not Fl) and came across a can of celluloid film, so they ate it. One then says to the other, "not a bad film".
The other replies, "yes but the book last week was better".

[Bob Smith]

Old age ain't for wimps ... but it beats dying young.



Two medical students were walking along the street when they saw an old man
Walking with his legs spread apart.

He was stiff-legged and walking slowly.

One student said to his friend:

"I'm sure that poor old man has Peltry Syndrome.
Those people walk just like that."

The other student says:

"No, I don't think so. The old man surely has Zovitzki Syndrome.
He walks slowly and his legs are apart, just as we learned in class."

Since they couldn't agree they decided to ask the old man. They approached him
and one of the students said to him, "we're medical students and couldn't help
but notice the way you walk, but we couldn't agree on the syndrome you might have ...
Could you tell us what it is?"

The old man said,

"I'll tell you, but first you tell me what you two fine medical students think."

The first student said, "I think it's Peltry Syndrome."

The old man said, "You thought - but you are wrong."

The other student said, "I think you have Zovitzki Syndrome."

The old man said, "You thought - but you are wrong."

So they asked him, "Well, old timer, what do you have?"

The old man said, "well, I thought it was GAS - but I was wrong, too!"

[ART6]

I abandoned groan-o-meters years ago and, being tech-savvy, I installed an app on my computer. It works rather like an anti-virus app, where it receives regular updates of groan-detecting algorithms, and it also has a spell checker function that detects miss-spelled words where they are a play on words designed to induce groans. It has four levels of filtering, from that which might cause me discomfort to that which might require resort to the whiskey bottle. If I download an Internet forum post that contains any context that the algorithm can detect, then it will be presented to me in a form that would not offend a nun.

It works very well, as all such downloaded applications tend to do. Unfortunately it also filters my posts and submits them in a way that would not offend that nun. I will sort it out in time but, in the meantime, if I appear to post anything in this thread when it doesn't make sense to baser instincts please accept that I am working on it!

[Islay]

You've got to laugh ...

(This event took place in Charlotte , North Carolina)
A lawyer purchased a box of very rare and expensive cigars, and then insured them against, among other things, fire.
Within a month, having smoked his entire stockpile of these great cigars, the lawyer filed a claim against his insurance company. In his claim, the lawyer stated the cigars were lost 'in a series of small fires’. The insurance company refused to pay, citing the obvious reason, that the man had consumed the cigars in the normal fashion.
The lawyer sued and WON!
Delivering the ruling, the judge agreed with the insurance company that the claim was frivolous. The judge stated nevertheless, that the lawyer held a policy from the company, in which it had warranted that the cigars were insurable, and also guaranteed that it would insure them against fire, without defining what is considered to be unacceptable 'fire' and was obliged therefore to pay the claim. Rather than endure a lengthy and costly appeal process, the insurance company accepted the ruling and paid $15,000 to the lawyer for his loss of the cigars that perished in the 'fires'.
HOWEVER ….
After the lawyer cashed the check, the insurance company had him arrested on 24 counts of ARSON!
With his own insurance claim, and testimony from the previous case, being used against him, the lawyer was convicted of intentionally burning his insured property and was sentenced to 24 months in jail, suspended, and a $24,000 fine.
This is a true story which won First Place in the 2015 Criminal Lawyers Award Contest.

[Bob Smith]

Heinz ........

[Malcolm G]

Originally Posted by Bob Smith

Heinz ........

Are they saying that there are 57 varieties?

[Bob Smith]

A very old man was lying in bed counting out his final hours on earth. He had had a good life. His children loved him,he had made a success of his working life & he had a devoted wife - so devoted in fact that, as he lay preparing to make his peace with his Maker, he could smell delicious aromas rising from the kitchen.
Was she baking? Could he, despite his declining faculties, smell his favourite buns- the currant & sultana buns that she had baked the first time they met at the village cake stall all these years ago? What a charming & thoughtful gesture.
Weak as he was, the old man managed to lift one leg out of bed, swivel himself round & then lift out the other.Standing was a challenge, but he managed, stumbling from the end of the bed to the chest of drawers & then to the bedroom door.Ahead lay the top of the stairs, but beyond lay the kitchen & freshly baked fruit buns. On he lurched, grasping at the bannisters as he lowered his fragile frame gingerly downwards step by step until he reached the hall.
He was feeling faint by now, but he managed to haul himself towards the kitchen door, which he flung open before collapsing on the kitchen floor.Then , with one final effort, the old man grabbed a chair & pulled himself up to reach towards the tray of warm fruit buns. He stretched out a trembling hand & then his wife's spatula came smacking down on it.

"Keep your hands off," she snapped." They're for the funeral."

[Bob Smith]

Christmas time

[Bob Smith]

Once again, I was disqualified from our neighbourhood, for "Best Decorated House"!!!

[erimus]

Originally Posted by Bob Smith

Once again, I was disqualified from our neighbourhood, for "Best Decorated House"!!!

Should think so...only two reindeer!

geoff

[BobClay]

As you can see Robert Shaw got a bit of sea time in when he was filming 'Jaws.'

[Dave McGouldrick]

Something Festive .

[BobClay]

I was wondering what happened to my old duvet ….

[Tom Alexander]

Mother Superior in the convent was laying on her death bed. Every evening, the nuns would bring her fresh milk from the convent's cow, but lacing it with some brandy. Every evening, the Reverend Mother would fall asleep with a smile on her face.

When the time came, that it was obvious that the Reverend Mother would no longer last the night, after giving her the usual glass of milk, one of the nuns asked that in her wisdom, was there anything she could pass along that would be useful for the members of the convent by way of advice.

The Reverend Mother, with her dying breath whispered "Don't sell the cow."

[Naytikos]

When four of Santa's elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure.
Then Mrs. Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more. When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where.
Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered. Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum.
When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drunk all the cider and hidden the RUM, (FLOGGING OFFENCE).
In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.
Just then the doorbell rang, and an irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said very cheerfully, 'Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?'

And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

[Laurie Ridyard]

A powem wot I rote-

The Rubberduckzilla

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Rubberduckzilla of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this yellow bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient Rubberduckzilla wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quacked the Rubberduckzilla , `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the Rubberduckzilla, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the Rubberduckzilla still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quacked the Rubberduckzilla, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quacked the Rubberduckzilla, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?'
Quacked the Rubberduckzilla, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quacked the Rubberduckzilla, `Nevermore.'

And the Rubberduckzilla, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

[Farmer John]

That Edgar Allen Poe, he knicked stuff from anyone.

[Farmer John]

Make a 3 cornered duvet, a fairly heavy weight one, tie a knot into it (loosely) and put
it onto a cover that is bigger than the quilt, then you tell someone
to sort it out while you go and answer the door. When you return in
45 minutes time, I guarantee they will be worn out and very confused.


I propose calling it "Schrodinger's tortoise" because that sounds
good, there is a good deal of uncertainty involved and it involves
something concealed that would appear to be able to be resolved, but
you slowly come to the conclusion that it may not be. Also, no
tortoises will be hurt in the process, but the title makes you think
there might be.

Been sat outside in the sun.

[Laurie Ridyard]

How thick can you get ?


https://www.facebook.com/50shadesofc...1kBOmmOvnOC0Q0

[Laurie Ridyard]

Do you fart in bed ? If this story doesn’t make you cry for laughing so hard, let me know and I’ll pray for you.
This is a story about a couple who had been happily married for years, the only friction in their marriage was the husbands habit of farting loudly every morning when he awoke the noise would wake his wife and the smell would make her eyes water and make her gasp for air. Every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping them off because it was making her sick.
He told her he couldn’t stop it and that it was perfectly natural. She told him to see a doctor, she was concerned that one day he would blow his guts out. The years went by and he continued to rip them out.
Then one Christmas day morning, as she was preparing the turkey for dinner and he was upstairs sound asleep, she looked at the innards, neck, gizzard, liver and all the spare parts, and a malicious thought came to her. She took the bowl and went upstairs where her husband was sound asleep and, gently pulling the bed covers back, she pulled back the elastic waistband of his underpants and emptied the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts. Sometime later she heard her husband waken with his usual trumpeting which was followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic footsteps as he ran into the bath room. The wife could hardly control herself as she rolled on the floor laughing, tears in her eyes! After years of torture she reckoned she had got him back pretty good. About twenty minutes later, her husband came downstairs in his blood stained underpants with a look of horror on his face. She bit her lip as she asked him what was the matter.
He said, Honey you were right all these years you have warned me and I didn’t listen to you. What do you mean? asked his wife. Well, you always told me that one day I would end up farting my guts out, and today it finally happened, but by the grace of god, some Vaseline and two fingers. I think I got most of them back in

ATB

Laurie

[Malcolm G]

Originally Posted by Laurie Ridyard

How thick can you get ?


https://www.facebook.com/50shadesofc...1kBOmmOvnOC0Q0

I will take your word for it that it is amusing but anyone without a facebook account cannot access it.

Or to put it another way; No di no.

[BobClay]

I don't think it's that funny. Personally I'd have gone out and tried to help her out. So you haven't missed much.

[Farmer John]

Originally Posted by BobClay

I don't think it's that funny. Personally I'd have gone out and tried to help her out. So you haven't missed much.

I agree with you Bob.
Shouting with glee "facebook here we come" or some such phrase is a bad attitude to your neighbours, but it does seem a common thought.