Quality Jokes and Humor

[Moontanman]

This explains it all. As aviators, we come from a long line of a secret society, formed around one thousand years ago. We are warriors, and here is the proof! Ground pounders can read it and weep!



Phu Khen (pronounced Foo King) 1169-? is considered by some to be the most under-recognized military officer in history. Many have never heard of his contributions to modern military warfare. The mission of this secret society is to bring honor to the name of Phu Khen.


A 'Khen' was a subordinate to a 'Khan' (pronounced 'konn') in the military structure of the Mongol hordes. Khan is Turkish for leader. Most know of the great Genghis Khan, but little has been written of his chain of command. Khen is also of Turkish origin. Although there is not a word in English that adequately conveys the meaning. Roughly translated, it means, One who will do the impossible, while appearing unprepared and complaining constantly."



Phu Khen was one of ten Khens that headed the divisions, or groups of hordes, as they were known, of the Mongol Army serving under Genghis Khan. His abilities came to light during the Mongols' raids on the Turkistan city of Bohicaroo. Bohicans were fierce warriors and the city was well fortified. The entire city was protected by huge walls and the hordes were at a standoff with the Bohicans. Bohicaroo was well stocked and it would be difficult to wait them out. Genghis Khan assembled his Khens and ordered each of them to develop a plan for penetrating the defenses of Bohicaroo.



Operation Achieve Victory (AV) was born. All 10 divisions of Khens submitted their plan. After reviewing AV plans 1 thru 7 and finding them all unworkable or ridiculous, Genghis Khan was understandably upset. It was with much perspiration that Phu Khen submitted his idea, which came to be known as AV 8. Upon seeing AV 8, Genghis was convinced this was the perfect plan and gave his immediate approval. The plan was beautifully simple. Phu Khen would arm his hordes to the teeth, load them into catapults, and hurl them over the wall. The losses were expected to be high, but hey, hordes were cheap! Those that survived the flight would engage the enemy in combat. Those that did not? Well, surely their flailing bodies would cause some damage.



The plan worked and the Bohicans were defeated. From that day on, whenever the Mongol Army encountered an insurmountable enemy, Genghis Khan would give the order, "Send some of Phu Khen's AV 8-ers." This is believed, though not by anyone outside our secret society, to be the true origin of the word Aviator (AV 8-er). Phu Khen's AV 8-ers were understandably an unruly mob, not likely to be socially acceptable. Many were heavy drinkers and insomniacs. But when nothing else would do, you could always count on an AV 8-er. A Phu Khen Aviator.



Denied, perhaps rightfully so, his place in history, Phu Khen has been, nonetheless, immortalized in prose. As the great poet Norman Lear never once said: "There once was a man named Phu Khen, Whose breakfast was whiskey and gin. When e'er he'd fly, He'd give a mighty war cry: "Bend over, here it comes again." (BOHICA)

Consider it an honor to be a Phu Khen Aviator. Wear the mantle proudly, but speak of it cautiously. It is not always popular to be one of us. You hear mystical references, often-hushed whispers, to 'those Phu Khen Aviators.'



Do not let these things bother you. As with any secret society, we go largely misunderstood, prohibited by our apathy from explaining ourselves. You are expected to always live down to the reputation of the Phu Khen Aviator...a reputation cultivated for centuries, undaunted by scorn or ridicule, unhindered by progress.

So drink up, be crude, sleep late, urinate in public, and get the job done. When others are offended, you can revel in the knowledge that... YOU are a PHU KHEN AVIATOR!

[Moontanman]

EXERCISE FOR PEOPLE OVER 50 :

Begin by standing on a comfortable surface, where you have plenty of room at each side. With a 5-lb potato sack in each hand, extend your arms straight out from your sides and hold them there as long as you can. Try to reach a full minute, and then relax. Each day you'll find that you can hold this position for just a bit longer.

After a couple of weeks, move up to 10-lb potato sacks. Then try 50-lb potato sacks and then eventually try to get to where you can lift a 100-lb potato sack in each hand and hold your arms straight for more than a full minute. (I'm at this level.)

After you feel confident at that level, put a potato in each of the sacks.

[paigetheoracle]

Norwegian classical music is all Grieg to me

My dog plays the piano but its not so good at classical - in fact its Bach is worse than its Bitehoven

Book title: 'Lost Abroad' by Frances Diswaye

What do you get if you drop a ton of crabs on a Chinese family?
Crushed Asians

I never watch murder mysteries anymore - I always know Hugh Dunnet

Computer language is all Geek to me

What do bullfighters like drinking? Cafe Ole!

Geeks are good at getting women into bed - they just start talking about their favourite subjects and bore their pants off

In a monastery various monks had different jobs, depending upon the particular talents: Monk A was good at leading prayers for the dead. Monk B was good at growing food in the gardens, Monk C was good at ringing the bells as was D and Monk E liked swinging through the trees going 'E-E-Ah-Ah!'

[Moontanman]

West virginia funeral - true story


as a young minister in west virginia, i was asked by a funeral director to hold a graveside service for a homeless man, who had no family or friends. The funeral was to be held at a new cemetery way back in the country, and this man would be the first to be buried there.

I was not familiar with the backwoods area, and i soon became lost.

Being a typical man, i did not stop to ask for directions. I finally arrived an hour late. I saw the backhoe and the open grave, but the hearse was nowhere in sight. The digging crew was eating lunch.

I apologized to the workers for my tardiness, and i stepped to the side of the open grave. There i saw the vault lid already in place. I assured the workers i would not hold them up for long, as i told them that this was the proper thing to do.

The workers gathered around the grave, and stood silently, as i began to pour out my heart and soul. As i preached about looking forward to a brighter tomorrow and the glory that is to come, the workers began to say 'amen', 'praise the lord', and 'glory!'

the fervor of these men truly inspired me.so, i preached and i preached like i had never preached before...all the way from genesis to revelations. I finally closed the lengthy service with a prayer,thanked the men, and walked to my car.

As i was opening the door and taking off my coat, i heard one of the workers say to another, 'i ain't never seen nothin' like that before, and i've been puttin' in septic tanks for thirty years!'

[DougF]

West virginia funeral - true story

Good One Moontanman,
Here is one I got in an e mail today



---------------------------- Original Message ----------------------------
Subject: [Fwd: Fw: Hell (explained by chemistry student)]]



Hell (explained by chemistry student)

The fact that anyone could write this under pressure ( pun intended) = is
amazing
HELL EXPLAINED BY CHEMISTRY STUDENT
The following is an actual question given on a **University of
Washington chemistry mid term.

The answer by one student was so profound that the professor shared it
with colleagues via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now hav= e
the pleasure of enjoying it as well :
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic
(absorbs heat)

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law
(gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.

*One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we
need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at
which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul
gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for
how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions
that exist in the world today.

Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their
religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these
religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can
project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are,
we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now,
we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law
states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the
same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls
enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until
all Hell breaks loose.

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in
Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?*

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year
that, 'It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you, and take
into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two
must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already
frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen
over , it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is
therefore, extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence
of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting 'Oh
my God.'

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+

[Moontanman]

What Religion is Your Bra?


A man walked into the ladies department of a Macy's and shyly walked up to the woman behind the counter and said, 'I'd like to buy a bra for my wife. '


'What type of bra?' asked the clerk.


‘Type?' inquires the man, 'There's more than one type?


‘Look around,' said the saleslady, as she showed a sea of bras in every shape, size, color and material imaginable.



'Actually, even with all of this variety, there are really only four types of bras to choose from'.



Relieved, the man asked about the types. The saleslady replied:



There are the Catholic, the Salvation Army, the Presbyterian, and the Baptist types. Which one would you prefer?


Now totally befuddled, the man asked about the differences between them.



The Saleslady responded, 'It is all really quite simple...


The Catholic type supports the masses.

The Salvation Army type lifts the fallen,
The Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright

The Baptist type makes mountains out of mole hills.

[Moontanman]

In 1996, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University . </ o>

On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully.

He got down on one knee, inspected the elephants foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away. Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.

Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenage son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant. Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.

Probably wasn't the same elephant.

[Moontanman]

Copper Wire


After having dug to a depth of 10 feet last year, New York scientists found traces of a copper-wire system dating back 100 years, and they came to the conclusion that their ancestors already had a telephone network more than 100 years ago.


Not to be outdone by New Yorkers, in the weeks that followed, California scientists dug to a depth of 20 feet, and shortly after, headlines in the LA Times newspaper read: ' California archaeologists have found traces of 200 year old copper-wire system and have concluded that their ancestors already had an advanced high-tech communications network a hundred years earlier than the New Yorkers.'


One week later, 'The Redneck Rebel Gazette' in West Virginia reported the following: After digging as deep as 30 feet in a corn field, Bubba Ray Johnson, a self-taught archaeologist, reported that he found absolutely nothing. Bubba has therefore concluded that 300 years ago, West Virginia had already gone wireless.

[Thunderbird]

This morning there was a knock at my door. When I answered the door I found a well groomed, nicely dressed couple. The man spoke first:

John: "Hi! I'm John, and this is Mary."

Mary: "Hi! We're here to invite you to come kiss Hank's butt with us."

Me: "Pardon me?! What are you talking about? Who's Hank, and why would I want to kiss His butt?"

John: "If you kiss Hank's butt, He'll give you a million dollars; and if you don't, He'll kick the snot out of you."

Me: "What? Is this some sort of bizarre mob shake-down?"

John: "Hank is a billionaire philanthropist. Hank built this town. Hank owns this town. He can do whatever He wants, and what He wants is to give you a million dollars, but He can't until you kiss His butt."

Me: "That doesn't make any sense. Why..."

Mary: "Who are you to question Hank's gift? Don't you want a million dollars? Isn't it worth a little kiss on the butt?"

Me: "Well maybe, if it's legit, but..."

John: "Then come kiss Hank's butt with us."

Me: "Do you kiss Hank's butt often?"

Mary: "Oh yes, all the time..."

Me: "And has He given you a million dollars?"

John: "Well no. You don't actually get the money until you leave town."

Me: "So why don't you just leave town now?"

Mary: "You can't leave until Hank tells you to, or you don't get the money, and He kicks the snot out of you."

Me: "Do you know anyone who kissed Hank's butt, left town, and got the million dollars?"

John: "My mother kissed Hank's butt for years. She left town last year, and I'm sure she got the money."

Me: "Haven't you talked to her since then?"

John: "Of course not, Hank doesn't allow it."

Me: "So what makes you think He'll actually give you the money if you've never talked to anyone who got the money?"

Mary: "Well, He gives you a little bit before you leave. Maybe you'll get a raise, maybe you'll win a small lotto, maybe you'll just find a twenty-dollar bill on the street."

Me: "What's that got to do with Hank?"

John: "Hank has certain 'connections.'"

Me: "I'm sorry, but this sounds like some sort of bizarre con game."

John: "But it's a million dollars, can you really take the chance? And remember, if you don't kiss Hank's butt He'll kick the snot out of you."

Me: "Maybe if I could see Hank, talk to Him, get the details straight from Him..."

Mary: "No one sees Hank, no one talks to Hank."

Me: "Then how do you kiss His butt?"

John: "Sometimes we just blow Him a kiss, and think of His butt. Other times we kiss Karl's butt, and he passes it on."

Me: "Who's Karl?"

Mary: "A friend of ours. He's the one who taught us all about kissing Hank's butt. All we had to do was take him out to dinner a few times."

Me: "And you just took his word for it when he said there was a Hank, that Hank wanted you to kiss His butt, and that Hank would reward you?"

John: "Oh no! Karl has a letter he got from Hank years ago explaining the whole thing. Here's a copy; see for yourself."

From the Desk of Karl
Kiss Hank's butt and He'll give you a million dollars when you leave town.
Use alcohol in moderation.
Kick the snot out of people who aren't like you.
Eat right.
Hank dictated this list Himself.
The moon is made of green cheese.
Everything Hank says is right.
Wash your hands after going to the bathroom.
Don't use alcohol.
Eat your wieners on buns, no condiments.
Kiss Hank's butt or He'll kick the snot out of you.
Me: "This appears to be written on Karl's letterhead."

Mary: "Hank didn't have any paper."

Me: "I have a hunch that if we checked we'd find this is Karl's handwriting."

John: "Of course, Hank dictated it."

Me: "I thought you said no one gets to see Hank?"

Mary: "Not now, but years ago He would talk to some people."

Me: "I thought you said He was a philanthropist. What sort of philanthropist kicks the snot out of people just because they're different?"

Mary: "It's what Hank wants, and Hank's always right."

Me: "How do you figure that?"

Mary: "Item 7 says 'Everything Hank says is right.' That's good enough for me!"

Me: "Maybe your friend Karl just made the whole thing up."

John: "No way! Item 5 says 'Hank dictated this list himself.' Besides, item 2 says 'Use alcohol in moderation,' Item 4 says 'Eat right,' and item 8 says 'Wash your hands after going to the bathroom.' Everyone knows those things are right, so the rest must be true, too."

Me: "But 9 says 'Don't use alcohol.' which doesn't quite go with item 2, and 6 says 'The moon is made of green cheese,' which is just plain wrong."

John: "There's no contradiction between 9 and 2, 9 just clarifies 2. As far as 6 goes, you've never been to the moon, so you can't say for sure."

Me: "Scientists have pretty firmly established that the moon is made of rock..."

Mary: "But they don't know if the rock came from the Earth, or from out of space, so it could just as easily be green cheese."

Me: "I'm not really an expert, but I think the theory that the Moon was somehow 'captured' by the Earth has been discounted*. Besides, not knowing where the rock came from doesn't make it cheese."

John: "Ha! You just admitted that scientists make mistakes, but we know Hank is always right!"

Me: "We do?"

Mary: "Of course we do, Item 7 says so."

Me: "You're saying Hank's always right because the list says so, the list is right because Hank dictated it, and we know that Hank dictated it because the list says so. That's circular logic, no different than saying 'Hank's right because He says He's right.'"

John: "Now you're getting it! It's so rewarding to see someone come around to Hank's way of thinking."

Me: "But...oh, never mind. What's the deal with wieners?"

Mary: She blushes.

John: "Wieners, in buns, no condiments. It's Hank's way. Anything else is wrong."

Me: "What if I don't have a bun?"

John: "No bun, no wiener. A wiener without a bun is wrong."

Me: "No relish? No Mustard?"

Mary: She looks positively stricken.

John: He's shouting. "There's no need for such language! Condiments of any kind are wrong!"

Me: "So a big pile of sauerkraut with some wieners chopped up in it would be out of the question?"

Mary: Sticks her fingers in her ears."I am not listening to this. La la la, la la, la la la."

John: "That's disgusting. Only some sort of evil deviant would eat that..."

Me: "It's good! I eat it all the time."

Mary: She faints.

John: He catches Mary. "Well, if I'd known you were one of those I wouldn't have wasted my time. When Hank kicks the snot out of you I'll be there, counting my money and laughing. I'll kiss Hank's butt for you, you bunless cut-wienered kraut-eater."

With this, John dragged Mary to their waiting car, and sped off.

[Moontanman]

T-bird, I'd give you rep if I could, that is the best religious satire I have ever read!