Do we have a Joke Thread goin here?
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Less of a joke and more of a story, but funny none the less.
http://lorien.ncl.ac.uk/ming/Dept/Fun/jokes/creative.htm
A TRUE STORY RECEIVED FROM AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR
You know that book Men are from Mars, Women from Venus? Well, here's a prime example of that. This assignment was actually turned in by two of my English students: Rebecca (last name deleted) and Gary (last name deleted).
First, the Assignment:
English 44A
SMU
Creative Writing
Prof. MillerIn-class Assignment for Wednesday:
Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.
And now, the Assignment as submitted by Rebecca & Gary:
Rebecca starts:
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The camomile, which used to be her favourite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked camomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So camomile was out of the question.
Gary:
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed, asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago.
"A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off, a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
Rebecca:
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one
last pang of regret for psychologically brutalising the one woman who had
ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless
hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4."Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel",
Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited
her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth --
when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to
read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at
all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to
become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
Gary:
Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted, wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a defenceless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty, the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverise the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan.
The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion which vaporised Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"
Rebecca:
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.
Gary:
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centred, tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.
Rebecca: Asshole.
Gary: Bitch.
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Seamus , the police and a cow named Bessie
An Irish farmer named Seamus had a car accident. In court, the lorry company's hot-shot solicitor was questioning Seamus...
'Didn't you say to the Police at the scene of the
accident, 'I'm fine?' asked the solicitor.
Seamus responded: 'Well, I'll tell you what happened. I
had just loaded my favorite cow, Bessie, into the......''I didn't ask for any details', the solicitor interrupted. 'Just answer the question. Did you not say, at the scene of the accident,'I'm fine!'?'
Seamus said, 'Well, I had just got Bessie into the trailer and I was driving down the road.....'
The solicitor interrupted again and said, 'Your Honor, I am trying to establish the fact that, at the scene of the accident this man told the police on the scene that he was fine. Now several weeks after the accident, he is trying to sue my client. I believe he is a fraud. Please tell him to simply answer the question.'
By this time, the Judge was fairly interested in Seamus's
answer and said to the solicitor: 'I'd like to hear what he has to say about his favorite cow, Bessie'.Seamus thanked the Judge and proceeded. 'Well as I was saying, I had just loaded Bessie, my favorite cow, into the trailer and was driving her down the road when this huge lorry and trailer came through a stop sign and hit my trailer right in the side. I was thrown into one ditch and Bessie was thrown into the other. I was hurt, very bad like, and
didn't want to move. However, I could hear old Bessie moaning and groaning. I knew she was in terrible pain just by her groans.Shortly after the accident, a policeman on a motorbike turned up. He could hear Bessie moaning and groaning so he went over to her. After he looked at her, and saw her condition, he took out his gun and shot her between the eyes..
Then the policeman came across the road, gun still in
hand, looked at me, and said, 'How are you feeling?'
'Now what the f**k would you have said? -
http://www.c4vct.com/kym/humor/mitlettr.htm
A Letter From M.I.T.MIT certainly has a reputation to be proud of, but its admissions department went a little over-board, I think. The first letter is an honest-to-goodness mailing from MIT, the second is one prospective student's reply:
April 18, 1994
Mr. John T. Mongan
123 Main Street
Smalltown, California 94123-4567
Dear John:You've got the grades. You've certainly got the PSAT scores. And now you've got a letter from MIT. Maybe you're surprised. Most students would be. But you're not most students. And that's exactly why I urge you to consider carefully one of the most selective universities in America.
The level of potential reflected in your performance is a powerful indicator that you might well be an excellent candidate for MIT. It certainly got my attention!
Engineering's not for you? No problem. It may surprise you to learn we offer more than 40 major fields of study, from architecture to brain and cognitive sciences, from economics (perhaps the best program in the country) to writing.
What? Of course, you don't want to be bored. Who does? Life here is tough and demanding, but it's also fun. MIT students are imaginative and creative - inside and outside the classroom.
You're interested in athletics? Great! MIT has more varsity teams - 39 - than almost any other university, and a tremendous intramural program so everybody can participate.
You think we're too expensive? Don't be too sure. We've got surprises for you there, too.
Why not send the enclosed Information Request to find out more about this unique institution? Why not do it right now?
Sincerely,
Michael C. Benhke
Director of AdmissionsP.S. If you'd like a copy of a fun-filled, fact-filled brochure, "Insight," just check the appropriate box on the form.
May 5, 1994
Michael C. Behnke
MIT Director of Admissions
Office of Admissions, Room 3-108
Cambridge MA 02139-4307Dear Michael:
You've got the reputation. You've certainly got the pomposity. And now you've got a letter from John Mongan. Maybe you're surprised. Most universities would be. But you're not most universities. And that's exactly why I urge you to carefully consider one of the most selective students in America, so selective that he will choose only one of the thousands of accredited universities in the country.The level of pomposity and lack of tact reflected in your letter is a powerful indicator that your august institution might well be a possibility for John Mongan's future education. It certainly got my attention!
Don't want Bio-Chem students? No problem. It may surprise you to learn that my interests cover over 400 fields of study, from semantics to limnology, from object-oriented programming (perhaps one of the youngest professionals in the country) to classical piano.
What? Of course you don't want egotistical jerks. Who does? I am self-indulgent and over confident, but I'm also amusing. John Mongan is funny and amusing - whether you're laughing with him or at him.
You're interested in athletes? Great! John Mongan has played more sports - 47 - than almost any other student, including oddball favorites such as Orienteering.
You think I can pay for your school? Don't be too sure. I've got surprises for you there, too.
Why not send a guaranteed admission and full scholarship to increase your chance of being selected by John Mongan? Why not do it right now?
Sincerely,
John MonganP.S. If you'd like a copy of a fun-filled, fact-filled brochure, "John Mongan: What a Guy!" just ask.
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An Aussie truckie walks into an outback cafe' with a full-grown emu behind him. The waitress asks them for their orders.
The truckie says, 'A hamburger, chips and a coke,' and turns to the emu, 'What's yours?' 'I'll have the same,' says the emu.
A short time later the waitress returns with the order 'That will be $9.40 please,' and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the exact change for payment..
The next day, the man and the emu come again and he says, 'A hamburger, chips and a coke.' The emu says, 'I'll have the same.'
Again the truckie reaches into his pocket and pays with exact change.
This becomes routine until the two enter again. 'The usual?' asks the waitress.
'No, it's Friday night, so I'll have a steak, baked potato and a salad,' says the man. 'Same,' says the emu.
Shortly the waitress brings the order and says, 'That will be $32.62.'
Once again the man pulls the exact change out of his pocket and places it on the table.
The waitress cannot hold back her curiosity any longer. 'Excuse me, mate, how do you manage to always come up with the exact change in your pocket every time?''Well, love' says the truckie, 'a few years ago, I was cleaning out the back shed, and found an old lamp. When I rubbed it, a Genie appeared and offered me two wishes. My first wish was that if I ever had to pay for anything, I would just put my hand in my pocket and the right amount of money would always be there.'
'That's brilliant!' says the waitress. 'Most people would ask for a million dollars or something, but you'll always be as rich as you want for as long as you live!'
'That's right. Whether it's a gallon of milk or a Rolls Royce, the exact money is always there,' says the man. The waitress asks, 'What's with the bloody emu?'
The truckie sighs, pauses, and answers, 'My second wish was for a tall bird with a big arse and long legs, who agrees with everything I say.'
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Two different theories exist concerning the origin of children: the theory of
sexual reproduction, and the theory of the stork. Many people believe in the
theory of sexual reproduction because they have been taught this theory
at school.In reality, however, many of the world's leading scientists are in
favour of the theory of the stork. If the theory of sexual
reproduction is taught in schools, it must only be taught as a theory
and not as the truth. Alternative theories, such as the theory of the
stork, must also be taught.Evidence supporting the theory of the stork includes the following:
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It is a scientifically established fact that the stork does exist.
This can be confirmed by every ornithologist. -
The alledged human foetal development contains several features
that the theory of sexual reproduction is unable to explain. -
The theory of sexual reproduction implies that a child is approximately
nine months old at birth. This is an absurd claim. Everyone knows that a
newborn child is newborn. -
According to the theory of sexual reproduction, children are a result of
sexual intercourse. There are, however, several well documented cases where
sexual intercourse has not led to the birth of a child. -
Statistical studies in the Netherlands have indicated a positive correlation
between the birth rate and the number of storks. Both are decreasing. -
The theory of the stork can be investigated by rigorous scientific methods.
The only assumption involved is that children are delivered by the stork.
(Original version by Erkki Aalto, Dept. of Obstetrics, Gynaecology and Stork
Science, University of Helsinki ---
English version by Jopi Louko, Institute of Stork Research,
University of Alberta) -
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Proudly showing off his newly-leased downtown apartment to a couple of friends late one night, a drunk guy led the way to his bedroom where there was a big brass gong hanging on thewall.
'What's that big brass gong for?' one of the friends asked.
'Issss nod a gong. Issss a talking Australian clock' he drunkenly replied.
'A talking Australian clock - seriously?'
'Yup.' 'Hmmm (hic).'
'How's it work?' the second friend asked, squinting at it.
'Just watch' he said.
He picked up a hammer, gave the gong an 'ear-shattering bash' and stepped back.
His three mates stood looking at one another for a moment in astounded silence.
Suddenly, an Australian voice from the other side of the wall screamed,
'For f*#k's sake, you stupid pri*#. It's ten past three in the f*#king morning!!!' -
An infinite number of mathematicians walk into a bar. The first one orders a beer. The second orders half a beer. The third, a quarter of a beer. The bartender says "You're all idiots", and pours two beers.
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But that's too much for them
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@gaieus said:
But that's too much for them
But there's an infinite number of them, so the infinitely small excess that's left over can be shared between them all, thus giving each of them effectively nothing extra so they will all get exactly what they wanted [subject to time not being called, tectonic plates not shifting too much, the sun not exploding, no group fatalities during the infinitely long sharing out process, no accidental spillages, no simple evaporation and the like] - so there need be no excess left at all...
However, I pity the last one in the queue - after an infinitely long wait he'll get an infinitely small share with an infinitely small top-up that's his share of the left-over infinitely small amount - but at least the by now the stale beer will be non-detectable as it's infinitely small anyway and he's probably died of thirst eons ago...
My brain has just melt****ed...
[I have tried to get a beer in some busy bars where I seem to have perfected the art of invisibility and I waited and waited, resorting to accidentally breaking things to get noticed [
] BUT that never lasted into millennia and beyond...] -
Well, this brings up the philosophical (rather than mathematical) question that how much exactly is infinitely small amounts infinite times... Would that be equal to one then?
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@gaieus said:
Well, this brings up the philosophical (rather than mathematical) question that how much exactly is infinitely small amounts infinite times... Would that be equal to one then?
Adding together infinitely large things only produce something of the same size = something infinitely large
Adding together infinitely small things only produce something of the same size = something infinitely small
no matter how many of them there are...
And I think that is approximating to zero not one ? Although a counter argument could be that an infinite number of infinitely small things would add up to approximating infinity - but still that's not one either ?
Certainly the dividing of something so small would almost definitely have to stop an a Planck Length [16.163×10^−36 meters] as there cannot be anything theoretically smaller, but since that's considerably less that an atom you wouldn't get much beer if you were near the end of the queue ! [Although if you were near the end of an infinitely long queue they'd still be as many people behind you as there were in front [infinity] - don't let's go there
]
I just noticed that my Planck Length argument effectively ruins the joke as it is based on a fallacy - they'd never be able to sub-divide the last drop of beer enough Sorry 
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hmmm, once you get to a certain size you no longer are drinking beer, you are now consuming quarks.
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@solo said:
hmmm, once you get to a certain size you no longer are drinking beer, you are now consuming quarks.
Aha, but as you know
quarkshaveflavors: up, down, charm, strange, top,andbottom.
Perhaps this thought experiment will lead us to finding that the Higgs Boson is actually made ofbeer?
It can't really be made ofstrings! Can it ?
Who needs the LHC - this forum might have already uncovered the truth...On a funnier note this short clip is very good [I think] http://www.ted.com/talks/charles_fleischer_insists_all_things_are_moleeds.html
Shows how esoteric science can get...
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@solo said:
hmmm, once you get to a certain size you no longer are drinking beer, you are now consuming quarks.
Tasty, tasty beer quarks, though.
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Is that for real? a beer called 'Quarks'?
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The phrase "Three Quarks for Muster Mark" in James Joyce's Finnegan's Wake is often cited as the source of the physicists' word "Quark", the name of one of the main kinds of elementary particles, proposed by the physicist Murray Gell-Mann.
The word "quark" originally comes from the standard English verb to "quark", meaning "to caw, croak," and also from the dialectal verb to "quawk", meaning "to caw, screech like a bird..." [like "squawk"]
I've never seen "Quark's Beer" - I suspect Photoshop perhaps has a hand in some deception
There's quark cheese stuff that is not so good...There should be a Quark Beer !
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Super Bowl, A Die Hard Fan...
A man had 50 yard line tickets for the Super Bowl. As he sits down, a man comes down and asks if anyone is sitting in the seat next to him.
"No," he says, "The seat is empty."
"This is incredible," said the man. "Who in their right mind would have a seat like this for the Super Bowl, the biggest sporting event in the world, and not use it?"
He says, "Well, actually, the seat belongs to me. I was supposed to come with my wife, but she passed away. This is the first Super Bowl we haven't been to together since we got married in 1967."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. That's terrible. But couldn't you find someone else, a friend or relative, or even a neighbor to take the seat?".
The man shakes his head.
"No, they're all at her funeral."
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Not a joke as such, but funny nonetheless: http://ubuntuce.com/
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