Digest for Wednesday, March 12, 2003

There are 13 messages totalling 521 lines in this issue.




Topics of the day:

  1. Bush To Station Half Of US Population In Gulf By Mid-Summer
  2. Picasso
  3. Call The Caterer...
  4. Arab TV Guide.....
  5. No Excuse Sunday is just four days away
  6. March 12th ~ U.S. Post Office Day
  7. Dog Problem
  8. The two robins (not offensive)
  9. More truth than poetry robbery
  10. Substitute teacher
  11. Curing erectile disfunction
  12. Statement by the President < adult >
  13. Things Youll Never Hear In A Western Movie:


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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 02:02:35 -0500
From:    Rollo Tomasi <RolloTomasi@COMCAST.NET>
Subject: Bush To Station Half Of US Population In Gulf By Mid-Summer

The Bush administration stepped up its pressure on Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein today
with plans to send an extra 120 million Americans to the Persian Gulf by July.

Military officials hope to encircle Iraq with one massive human chain by as early as next
fall.

"We will literally have him surrounded," said a determined President Bush.  "He will have
no way out."

The announcement came as a surprise to Tom and Mary Barnes, of Topeka, Kansas, who had
arranged to visit their grandchildren in Portland, Oregon over the summer.

"We were hoping to drive out and maybe see the Grand Canyon along the way when got our
call-up from the Army yesterday afternoon," recalls Tom.

The deployment will be the largest ever of its kind and will be made up of all segments of
the population: from stockbrokers to elementary school teachers, retirees to recent
college graduates.

The president hopes to shift several key aspects of American life to the region as well.
For example, 7,000 Krispy Kreme outlets are in the process of being built throughout the
area.

In addition, according to the White House, the New York Stock Exchange will be
repositioned to Riyadh, a Disneyland will be constructed in Ankara, Turkey and the
Cleveland Indians will now play their home games in Amman, Jordan.
__
 2003 Chortler.com

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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 03:30:46 -0600
From:    Marsha in Texas <marsha@CCMS.NET>
Subject: Picasso

A man commissioned Picasso to paint a portrait of his wife. Startled by
the nonrepresentational image on the canvas, the woman's husband
complained, "It isn't how she really looks."

When asked by the painter how she really looked, the man produced a
photograph from his wallet. Returning the photography Pablo observed,
"Small, isn't she?"

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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 05:11:47 -0500
From:    Paul Benoit <phyfendrum@HOTMAIL.COM>
Subject: Call The Caterer...

Khalid Shaikh Mohammed, Al Qaeda's no. 3 man and probable
designer of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, has been captured
and is being detained and interrogated.

          -----------------------


I Want to Cater Khalid Shaikh Mohammed's Meals
      by Karen Zipdrive
      pulpfriction.blogspot


KZ: Good morning! For breakfast we have pork sausage with pork gravy,
bacon, ham, and pork falafel.

KSM: I don't eat pork.

KZ: Well, isn't that too bad! Okay, how about some Jell-O?

KSM: Jell-O has hooves in it. I don't eat hooves.

KZ: Oh well, there goes breakfast!



KZ: Lunchtime! Enjoy your BLT.

KSM: I don't eat bacon.

KZ: Uh oh! Well, how about some plain biscuits with butter?

KSM: Do the biscuits contain lard?

KZ: Of course.

KSM: No lard.

KZ: Oh well, see you at dinner!



KZ: You must be starved! I made some babyback ribs!

KSM: Are they pork ribs?

KZ: You bet they are! And there's also green beans with bacon bits,
bourbon baked beans and ice cream!

KSM: No pork ribs! No bacon bits! No alcohol! No whey!

KZ: No way?

KSM: No, no whey! Whey is in ice cream and it is mushbooh!

KZ: Mushbooh?

KSM: Yes, almost as bad as haram!

KZ: Well, if you can't eat my cooking, you better take some of
this protein powder and some vitamins.

KSM: What kind of protein?

KZ: Lemme see here. Uh oh, it's whey protein.

KSM: No whey!

KZ: You got that right, you bastard.



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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 06:37:37 -0500
From:    Terry Galan <galante@MCMASTER.CA>
Subject: Arab TV Guide.....

Sunday
7:30 -- My 33 Sons
8:00 -- Osama Knows Best
8:30 -- Let's Mecca Deal
9:00 -- I Dream of Mohammed
9:30 -- The Kabul Hillbillies

Monday
7:00 -- Husseinfeld
7:30 -- Mad About Everything
8:00 -- Monday Night Stoning
8:30 -- Win Bin Laden's Money
9:00 -- Allah McBeal

Tuesday
7:30 -- Wheel of Terror
8:00 -- The Price Is Right If Osama Says It's Right
8:30 -- Children Are Forbidden From Saying The Darndest Things
9:00 -- Taliban's Wackiest Public Execution Bloopers
9:30 -- Buffy, The Yankee Imperialist Dog Slayer

Wednesday
7:30 -- Beat The Press
8:00 -- When Kurds Attack
8:30 -- Two Guys, a Girl, and Pita Bread
9:00 -- Just Shoot Everyone
9:30 - Veilwatch

Thursday
7:00 - Fatima Loves Chachi
7:30 -- M*U*S*T*A*S*H
8:00 -- Veronica's Closet Full of Long, Black, Shapeless Dresses and
Veils
8:30 -- Married With 139 Children
9:00 -- Eye For An Eye Witness News

Friday
7:00 -- Judge Saddam
7:30 -- Suddenly Sanctions
8:00 -- Who Wants To Marry A Terrorist Millionaire
8:30 -- Cave And Garden Television
9:00 -- No Witness Left Alive News

Saturday
8:00 -- Spongebob Squareturban
8:30 -- Who's Koran Is It Anyway?
9:00 -- Teletalibans
9:30 -- Camel 54, Where Are You

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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 06:13:14 -0600
From:    Les Pourciau <pourciau@MEMPHIS.EDU>
Subject: No Excuse Sunday is just four days away

To make it possible for everyone to attend church next Sunday, we are going to
have a special "No Excuse Sunday".

Cots will be placed in the foyer for those who say, "Sunday is my only day to
sleep in."

There will be a special section with lounge chairs who feel that our pews are
too hard.

Eye drops will be available for those with tired eyes from watching T.V. late
Saturday night.

We will have steel helmets for those who say " The roof would cave in if I ever
came to church."

Blankets will be furnished for those who think the church is too cold and fans
for those who say it is too hot.

Score cards will be available for those who wish to list the hypocrites present.

Relatives and friends will be in attendance for those who can't go to church and
cook dinner, too.

We will distribute "Stamp Out Stewardship" buttons for those who feel that
church is always asking for money.

One section will be devoted to trees and grass for those who like to seek God in
nature.

Doctors and nurses will be in attendance for those who plan to be sick on
Sunday.

The sanctuary will be decorated with both Christmas poinsettias and Easter
lilies for those who never have seen the church without them.

We will provide hearing aids for those who can't hear the preacher and cotton
for those who say he is to loud.

-- Author Unknown

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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 05:25:22 -0800
From:    Sandy - AKA Ms Sam <sandy@CHUCKLESOFCHOICE.COM>
Subject: March 12th ~ U.S. Post Office Day

The U.S. Post Office Department was established in 1789.

A woman took a package to the post office to mail and was told it would cost
$2.40 for fast delivery or $1.30 for slower service.

"There is no hurry," she told the clerk, "just so the package is delivered
in my lifetime."

The postmaster glanced at her and said, "That will be $2.40, please."
Sandy (AKA MsSam)
http://chucklesofchoice.com
http://mssamantics.us

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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 09:01:41 -0500
From:    Bill Stebbins <bs16@CORNELL.EDU>
Subject: Dog Problem

Pet Owner:  Doc, I have a problem, every time a bell rings my dog goes and
sits in the corner!
Vet:  That's perfectly normal; after all, he's a boxer!

http://www.people.cornell.edu/pages/bs16

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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 06:29:07 -0800
From:    Grady Lacy <gradylacy@YAHOO.COM>
Subject: The two robins (not offensive)

Two robins were sitting in a tree. "I'm really hungry", said the first
one.

"Me, too" said the second. "Let's fly down and find some lunch."

They flew to the ground and found a nice plot of plowed ground full of
worms. They ate and ate and ate and ate 'til they could eat no more.

"I'm so full I don't think I can fly back up to the tree", said the first
one.

"Me either. Let's just lay here and bask in the warm sun", said the
second.

"O.K." said the first.

They plopped down, basking in the sun. No sooner than they had fallen
asleep, a big fat tom cat snuck up and gobbled them up.

As he sat washing his face after his meal, he thought, "I love baskin'
robins."

[From Lee Sissel]

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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 09:27:24 -0600
From:    Tom and Carrol <tcr@CHARTER.NET>
Subject: More truth than poetry robbery

Late one night in the Washington, D.C. area a mugger
wearing a ski mask jumped into the path of a well-dressed
man and stuck a gun in his ribs.

"Give me your money," he demanded.

Indignant, the affluent man replied, "You can't do this -
I'm a US Congressman!"

"In that case," replied the robber, "give me MY money

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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 18:24:20 -0800
From:    Terry Tubman <ttubman@ANGELFIRE.COM>
Subject: Substitute teacher

+Got this from my friend Ana E. Muss+

  Walking through the hallways at the middle school where I work, I saw a new
substitute teacher standing outside his classroom with his forehead against a
locker.  I heard him muttered, "How did you get yourself into this?"
  Knowing he was assigned to a difficult class, I tried to offer moral support.
"Are you okay?" I asked. "Can I help?"
  He lifted his head and replied, "I'll be fine as soon as I get this kid out of his
locker."



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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 23:25:09 -0500
From:    Fred Strathmann <fstrath@STRATHMANN.COM>
Subject: Curing erectile disfunction <adult>

There was a man who had a problem getting an erection and so went to visit
his doctor. The doctor runs all sorts of tests and finally announces that he
can help him out.

The doctor tells the man to go home and wait until his wife is asleep, and
then to reach down between her legs and get a little love juice on his
finger and rub it under his nose, and that this would stimulate his brain
and then he would get an erection.

The man takes the doctor's advice and that night after his wife has gone
to sleep he reaches down between her legs and gets some of her juice and
he rubs it on his upper lip right under his nose. After a minute or two he
starts to feel a tingling between his legs, so he grabs some more juice
and rubs it under his nose. The next thing he knows he has a full
erection.

He is real excited he wakes up his wife to share in the good news. He
wakes her up and says "Look Honey! Look what I've got!"

She rolls over, looks at him and asks:
"You wake me up at two in the morning to show me you've got a nose bleed?"

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Date:    Wed, 12 Mar 2003 23:31:00 -0500
From:    The Punk <The-Punk-With-The-Stutter@COMCAST.NET>
Subject: Statement by the President  < adult >

        President Responds To Treasonous Criticism From Decrepit
        One-Term Has-Been Who'd Better Keep His Geriatric
        Cakehole Shut If He Knows What's Good For Father's Day

For Immediate Release
Office of the Press Secretary
March 11, 2003  - 3:37 P.M. (EST)

THE PRESIDENT: You may be seated.  Like most of you out there, I keep a list of all the
folks who have withheld or qualified their flattery of me over the years.  Next to French
dictator Jack Chirac, is Betsy Jernigan (who snickered quietly while I was stumbling
through Dick and Jane in the third grade), Prince Charles of England (who supposedly
opened his fairy trap to say something vaguely unfavorable about me at a private dinner),
dried-up hag Helen Thomas, and Skip Barnsworth (who called me a "cheerleader fag" when I
threw up on his Weejuns at a Delt party at Yale).

Often, before turning in for bed at 8:30, I go through three or four pages in one of the
many yellow legal pads in which I scribble the names of bastards who've rubbed me the
wrong way.  I can't tell you what a rush it is to come across a name and have my heart
jump for joy as I put down my pretzel and cold beverage and run a red pen over and over
and over and over their name, knowing that they had been killed by a hit and run,
succumbed to an unexplained suicide, or been strangled by an over-zealous CIA operative
acting on more of a polite hint than an outright order.

Well, today I had the sad duty to add to that list of goddamned losers the name of a man
whose seminal fluids and my mother's nail-biting last-minute decision to use the money for
orthopedic shoes instead of an abortion caused me to come into this here world and fulfill
my Jesus-anointed duty of bringing on the Apocalypse.

Yes, as most of you in the press corps are already well aware, yesterday my immediate
Republican predecessor, while delivering a speech
(http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,3-605441,00.html) at Tufts University, had the
unmitigated gall to dare question the brilliance of me telling the rest of the world it
can smoke my throbbing Texas pole.

Now it seems that this predecessor doesn't have the cojones to tell me his uselessly wrong
opinions in person.  No, he has to go to flapping his Super-Polydent gums up at some
fourth-rate Taxachusetts thinking commune.  It reminds me of back when I was fourteen, and
instead of just telling me to quit polishing off the Wild Turkey, he'd go and cry like a
woman about it to that foul-mouthed gargoyle I used to call Mom.  But what do you expect
from a decrepit one-termer party turncoat who handed the hopes and dreams of America's
corporate robber-barons over to the slum-loving Democrats?

You know, you'd think that somebody would be able to show a little gratitude.  And after
all I did for him.  It's not every son who is willing to plunge the entire planet into
chaos and war-induced depression simply to exact personal vengeance on some powerless tin
pot sand nigra who made his daddy look like a big sissy failure.  Maybe if this
predecessor had spent a little more time focused on convincing dumb poor folks that giving
more money to our zillionaire pals will keep them flush in Lotto ticket money, he could
have stuck around and finished the job himself instead of playing the role of Mr.
Geriatric Backseat Driver Asshole Who Thinks Just Because You're the Oldest That You
Should Have to Rake The Fucking Leaves Forever Instead of Those Fucking Jerkoffs Neil,
Marvin and Jeb.

Indeed, it seems my foreign policy-obsessed predecessor is still hung up on garbage like
maintaining "long-term friendship" and "international coalitions."  Well guess what?  If
someone doesn't want to be my friend anymore, then to hell with 'em.  I've got new
friends, and they're all the support I need.  Tons of countries support my plans to do
whatever the hell I want.  Important, sovereign nations like Italy, Qatar, Antarctica,
Guam, Hispano-Rico, Diego Garcia, Eternia, Visigothia, Cardassia, Mordor, the Island of
Dr. Moreau, and the Confederate States of America.  Now that's what I call a coalition.
In other words, the world's watching my back, and Saddam bin Laden is going down.

You see, some people - like my predecessor - just don't understand that the President
business (like all businesses) changes over the years.  In fact, over the last 10 years,
we've seen the most amounts of majorly changes to Presidentialdom that have been seened in
the same span of decades ever before!  Today's imploding economy is different.  Today's
skyrocketing joblessness is different.  Today's secret plot to overturn Roe vs. Wade by
packing the federal bench with right-wing ideologues is different.  And it calls for a
different breed of President - preferably one who managed to shed his girly Connecticut
accent and talk without using any of those fancy-pants faggot-boy college words.

Now, I want to get all "let's pretend" on you spin-hungry media zombies for a minute.
"Let's pretend" I had a pappy whom I loved very much, specifically because his pappy and
his pappy's pappy had the good sense to inhale power and wealth like the giant Yankee
leeches they were.  And that generations later, yours truly would benefit from this
tradition of inbred entitlement to become the mighty mouthpiece of the freedom-fearing
aristocracy.  Now, "let's pretend" that yours truly dedicated his whole presidency to
making pappy proud, only to find out that pudding-slurping wheezebag is trying to get all
Brutus behind my back!  What's the son gonna do?  I don't know.  You tell me Dad!  But
before you do, why don't you tell everyone what a loser souse you used to think I was.
Some baseball-team-buying, "C" average do-nothing.  "Why can't you be more like Jeb,
George?" this and "There's still puke on your slacks, George" that, and "Have I told you
for the SEVEN MILLIONTH TIME about how I was a real life war hero, George?"

Well screw that!  I'm El Presidente now, so "let's pretend" that if anybody starts getting
all Jimmy Carter on me, trying to worm his shriveled honker where it doesn't belong, then
"let's pretend" his Secret Service detail will be replaced by a Paki cab driver, a couple
of boy scouts, and a non-medicated pistol-packing Betty Ford.

That is all.  No questions, please.


        [ 2001-2003 - a chickenhead productions parody ]

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Date:    Thu, 13 Mar 2003 00:22:45 -0600
From:    Marsha in Texas <marsha@CCMS.NET>
Subject: Things You'll Never Hear In A Western Movie:

~"I reckon I'll have me a half-caf double latte with a twist.
~"Can we postpone this duel till 12:05? I gotta use the little boys room."
~"Injuns! Quick, pull the wagons into an irregular dodecagon!"
~"Y'know, Badlands Pete... a roaring campfire, good coffee, nice
    prairie breeze, just you 'n' me... what say we put on the rhinestone
    gowns and dance a jig or two?"
~"Let's see... hardtack and pemmican... let's see, that's three grams
    of fat, seven grams of protein, and two starches."
~"You 'n' Slim round up them strays, and I'll tell Cookie to get started
    on the gazpacho and the fondue."
~"That's him! That's the yella-bellied varmint who shot my therapist!"
~"Hey, Buck, do these chaps make my ass look big?"
~"HANG HIM HIGH, BOYS!! ...Okay, now a little to the left....Oooh!
    Stop right there. Perfect!"

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