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Topic: Shaggy dogs and atrocious puns (Read 1372 times) |
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Hermit
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Shaggy dogs and atrocious puns
« on: 2006-10-06 02:43:36 » |
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Let me start with a recommendation: http://www.awpi.com/Combs/Shaggy/
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With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion. - Steven Weinberg, 1999
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Hermit
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Re:Shaggy dogs and atrocious puns
« Reply #1 on: 2006-10-06 02:47:50 » |
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Source: http://www.awpi.com/Combs/Shaggy/204.html
A man had been feeling really bad for about 3 weeks, so he went to see his doctor. The doctor said, "Look, I don't know what you've got, but it could be serious, so why don't you go to this specialist I know." So the man went to the specialist and the specialist said, "Look you have a very rare sickness, only one person every ten years gets it! The only cure is made in Australia in a little town called Mercy, about 400 miles from Sidney. And by the way, you have only one week to live."
So the man took the first flight he could to Sidney, rented a car, and drove to Mercy, Australia. When he got there he found it was one of those towns with a population of one. The man walked up to the house in the village, and an old doctor answered the door.
"You have to help me!", said the man, "I'm dying of this rare illness and I only have four days left to live"
So the old man invited him in. "I must give you my special Koala bear Tea. It is the only thing on Earth that can cure you."
So the old man went out to get the ingredients. One koala, a few birds and such. He boiled them together and gave them to the man with bones, feathers and dirt sticking out of the drink. The man looked at it, repulsed, and asked if the tea could be filtered to remove the lumps.
The old doctor looked horrified and said, "My dear Sir, the Koala Tea of Mercy is not strained!!!"
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With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion. - Steven Weinberg, 1999
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Hermit
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Re:Shaggy dogs and atrocious puns
« Reply #2 on: 2006-10-06 03:03:19 » |
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Authors: A new variation upon an old theme by Hermit
Once upon a time an aquarium manager told her assistant, "We have a serious problem. More than half of the dolphins are suffering from extreme diarrhea. They are just lying still in the water and squirting. In nature, they would eat seabird nestlings whole in order to soak up the excess fluid. I'm seriously worried about their health."
"What can we do about it?" the assistant asked.
"Well, I don't think there is any drug that we know is safe to prevent diarrhea in dolphins, so the only thing that I can think of is to feed them baby birds. If we don't do that urgently, they may die!" the manager replied.
Well they phoned their suppliers, but all of them were shit out of baby sea birds. None of them even had any seagulls although one of their suppliers suggested that maybe if they waited their tern would come. Finally, the assistant decided to try to collect some baby birds from the marina. So, waiting until early in the morning when the birds would probably be asleep, armed with a swimming pool net and some large sacks, she drove to the marina, tiptoed between the stony faced lions guarding the entry, went down the stairs to the jetty where she used the net to scoop all the sleeping birds off the rigging of the yachts and placed them into her sack. When she had all of the bags filled, she released the adult birds, keeping only the juveniles, and would have left, only the old gatekeeper had closed the gates and gone to bed while she was busy.
Well, to cut a long story short, she managed to climb over the wall next to the gate, using the gate-guard lions as steps. Finally she drove back to the aquarium just as the sun was lightening the Eastern sky, and was about to start feeding the poor, listless dolphins when two policemen stepped forward from the shadows.
"You are under arrest miss!", said one of them, grasping her arm.
"Whatever for?" she asked in dismay.
"Don't you know?" said the cop, "Transporting young gulls across a staid lion for immobile porpoises!"
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With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion. - Steven Weinberg, 1999
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Hermit
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Posts: 4287
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Re:Shaggy dogs and atrocious puns
« Reply #3 on: 2006-10-06 04:36:26 » |
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Authors: A variation upon a theme by Hermit
Copyright: 2006, Hermit (all rights reserved). Posted by Hermit to the bulletin board of the Church of Virus at http://www.churchofvirus.org/bbs with sufficient rights granted to the Church of Virus to enable the display this work on their BBS.
The extremely wealthy chief of the very wealthiest of all possible wealthy African villages was the owner of the most precious of all the world's thrones, a most magnificent golden chair, beautifully carved, encrusted with diamonds and ivory and other precious things. One day the extremely wealthy chief of the very wealthiest of all possible wealthy African villages heard that the missionaries were coming. Being a wise chief, this wealthy chief of the very wealthiest of all possible wealthy African villages knew all about missionaries and their acquisitive habits. So he called the entire village together and all of them strained and heaved and pushed and pulled and lifted and shoved his chair into the rafters of his hut, and then, using the chair as a platform, they labored through that long hot summer day, which was just like all the other long hot summer days in that part of Africa, which means that it is much longer and hotter than it is here, they labored and they carried and they stacked and they heaped and they piled all the wealth of the village.
When they had finished this enormous task, the villagers were all exceedingly exhausted, and so they sat down to a nice pot of tea. It might have been a djarling tea, and then again, it might have been something else. No sooner than they had put the pot on the fire than the shifty eyed missionaries finally arrived. The shifty eyed missionaries looked this way, and the shifty eyed missionaries looked that way as they were lead through the village, clearly sizing up everything that could be moved, and the things that couldn't be moved, and maybe even looking for things that nobody could see (because they were hidden in the rafters of the hut of the extremely wealthy chief of the very wealthiest of all possible wealthy African villages).Finally they were taken into the august presence of the extremely wealthy chief of the very wealthiest of all possible wealthy African villages who waited for them to be introduced, greeted them politely, and then, he was a very polite chief, asked, "Tea?" Even had the shifty eyed missionaries, who were not very polite and who did not know that one always drinks the second cup of tea before asking questions, even if it tastes nasty and has what looks to be a remarkably well used sock floating in the pot to strain the tea leaves (and this tea was not like that at all), not asked about the very wonderful chair of which they had heard rumors, their wandering eyes might have confirmed their avarice. The extremely wealthy chief of the very wealthiest of all possible wealthy African villages however, sitting on a perfectly ordinary painted kitchen chair, with utmost good taste, ignored their rudeness and merely shrugged. "Rumors," said he, as he poured second cups of tea for everyone. "We are not a rich people. What for should I want a golden chair?"
Unfortunately, the rafters of the hut, which had not been built to hold the massive weight of a golden chair, nor the treasury of the very wealthiest of all possible wealthy African villages, and especially not both at once, the collapsed at that very instant in a positive shower of wood and plaster and dust and mess, which bothered the leader of the missionaries no end as he always preferred to wear clean clothes, and the golden throne falling from the roof landed on the chief, killing him instantly. The missionaries, taking this, and everything else of value except for a thimble, a silver thimble, made in Birmingham, explained to the natives that the death of their chief was a sure sign of god's anger with them, to be expiated only by magnificent gifts.
And so the shifty eyed missionaries departed, taking with them what the shifty eyed missionaries called "the cursed chair", as well as the "windfall from heaven" which was what the shifty eyed missionaries called the treasure and everything else of value, except as I have already explained, the thimble. The silver thimble. The silver thimble made in Birmingham. It wasn't that they didn't want the thimble, it was just that the thimble, the silver thimble, made in Birmingham had landed inside the chief's elephant's foot umbrella stand which he had kept by the door, so they didn't notice it, or they would have taken it too. There was far too much for the shifty eyed missionaries to carry, what with the golden chair, the treasures as well as the "gifts" they had extorted accepted from the villagers, but everything worked out in the best of all possible ways after the shifty eyed missionaries explained to the villagers, that it was hardly worth staying in a town that was as poor as theirs, where the buildings were falling down and killing people, and where they had no chief to protect this, the most lamentably poor village of all the possible lamentably poor villages in Africa. So, in exchange for protection from the ever-so-caring, shifty eyed missionaries, the natives carried their enormous bundles of goods back through the deserts and the jungles and the swamps and the plains and over the mountains and down to the sea.
Where the missionaries ship sat at anchor, and after the grateful natives had loaded the last item from the least significant of all the insignificant bundles they had struggled to carry through the deserts and the jungles and the swamps and the plains and over the mountains and down to the sea they all waved good-bye to the wonderful shifty eyed missionaries who had taught them how to be properly civilised.
And that is why, Jemima, the village is today the very poorest of all possible African villages, possessing only one small artifact of value. The thimble. The silver thimble, made in Birmingham. Not much value, mind you, but representing wealth to the villagers. Not physical wealth. Oh no. Representing moral wealth. You see Jemima, like all good stories, and a few not so good ones, this story has a moral. And the moral of this story, good or not so good, is that "people who live in grass houses shouldn't stow thrones."
Finis
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With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion. - Steven Weinberg, 1999
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