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          John and Mary Pay a Visit   ( Hank's ass )

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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:

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

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

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

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

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

John: "Hank is a billionaire philanthropists. Hank built this town. Hank
owns this town. He can do what ever wants, and what he wants is to give you
a million dollars, but he can't until you kiss his ass."

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 ass?"

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

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

Me: "Do you kiss Hank's ass 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 shit out of you."

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

John: "My mother kissed Hank's ass 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 ass he'll kick the shit of you."

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

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

Me: "Then how do you kiss his ass?"

John: "Sometimes we just blow him a kiss, and think of his ass. Other times
we kiss Karl's ass, 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
ass. 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 ass, and that Hank would reward you?"

John: "Oh no! Karl's got a letter Hank sent him years ago explaining the
whole thing. Here's a copy; see for your self."

John handed me a photocopy of a handwritten memo on
"From the desk of Karl" letterhead. There were eleven items listed:

            From The Desk of: Karl

 1. Kiss Hank's ass and he'll give you a million
    dollars when you leave town.
 2. Use alcohol in moderation.
 3. Kick the shit out of people who aren't like you.
 4. Eat right.
 5. Hank dictated this list himself.
 6. The moon is made of green cheese.
 7. Everything Hank says is right.
 8. Wash your hands after going to the bathroom.
 9. Don't drink.
10. Eat your wieners on buns, no condiments.
11. Kiss Hank's ass or he'll kick the shit out of you.

Evolve Beyond Belief!

Pick one up for a friend!


Me: "This would appear 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 shit 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 Hanks says is right.' That's good enough for me!"

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

 Source:  BookOfBadArguments

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 Drink,' 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 outer 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 came from the Earth has been discounted. Besides, not knowing where the rock came from doesn't make it cheese."


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

Me: "We do?"

Mary: "Of course we do, Item 5 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. That's 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 blushes. John says: "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 looks positively stricken. John shouts: "There's no need for suchlanguage! 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 faints. John catches her: "Well, if I'd known you where one of those, I wouldn't have wasted my time. When Hank kicks the shit out of you, I'll be there counting my money and laughing. I'll kiss Hank's ass for you, you bunless cut-wienered kraut-eater."

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

Ketchup anyone? :)

AUTHOR:  Jim Huber

    Go to:  Atheism     The 100+ Library      Where is the Graveyard of Dead Gods?

                Heisenberg and Schrödinger are driving...

Heisenberg and Schrödinger are driving, and get pulled over. Heisenberg is in the driver's seat, the officer asks "do you know how fast you were going?" Heisenberg replies, "No, but I know exactly where I am!" The officer looks at him confused and says "you were going 108 miles per hour!" Heisenberg throws his arms up and cries, "Great! Now I'm lost!"

The officer, now more confused and frustrated orders the men outside of the car, and proceeds to inspect the vehicle. He opens the trunk and yells at the two men, "Hey! Did you guys know you have a dead cat back here?" Schrödinger angrily yells back, "We do now, jerk!"


  Nuclear Power Plant
 Link  Humor pages

Ernie, the nuclear plant supervisor was about to go on his first vacation in almost 20 years.
He left the foreman in charge of the control room.

Ernie lectured again to the crew to be sure to watch all the gauges. He reiterated how to cool the core by adding water if a nuclear meltdown should threaten. And he reminded everyone about the dangers of over-filling the core with water, to avoid explosive pressure buildup from the steam.

As he was leaving, he turned and reminded the crew, "Just remember, you can't add too much water to a nuclear reactor."

~ Source From a classic Saturday Night Live episode hosted by Ed Asner.

  Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted.
  English 44ASMU    Creative Writing;     Prof Miller -- In-class Assignment for Wednesday.
This assignment was actually turned in by two English students, Rebecca and Gary:

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 reread 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.

Ken's Guide to the Bible   by Ken Smith

With precision and pig-
iron wit, this compact
volume lays bare all the
sex, gore, and lunacy
that the Bible has to offer...

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. 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 chamomile was out of the question.

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.

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing 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.

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 defenseless 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 pulverize 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 vaporized 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!"

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.

You total $*&.

Stupid %?$!.


This story is posted on many websites. 
$*&%?$! - censored ending is variable. Here are some examples - 
You total $*&. Wanker Jerk. Asshole.
Stupid %?$!. Slut. Cry baby. Bitch.
Eat shit. Get fucked. YOU NEANDERTHAL!!  
Go drink some tea, whore.      

Ever since the Apollo Moon missions brought back Moon rocks, the best scientific explanation for the formation of the Moon has been the "Impact-Trigger" Theory. In this explanation, a Mars-sized body struck the Earth 4 ½ billion years ago. Pieces of the impactor and the Earth's mantle splashed into orbit around the Earth and eventually became the Moon. So, at least partly, the Moon "came from the Earth."

                     Excerpts from a Dog's Diary
 8:00 am - Dog food!  My favorite thing!
 9:30 am - A car ride!  My favorite thing
 9:40 am - A walk in the park!  My favorite thing
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted!  My favorite thing
12:00 pm - Lunch!  My favorite thing
 1:00 pm - Played in the yard!  My favorite thing
 3:00 pm - Wagged my tail!  My favorite thing
 5:00 pm - Milk Bones!  My favorite thing
 7:00 pm - Got to play ball!  My favorite thing
 8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed!  My favorite thing


    Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary
Day 983 of my captivity...

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.

Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.

The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made
condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. Bastards.

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my
tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released -- and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously crazy.

The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe.
For now...

  Why Men Shouldn't Write Advice Columns
Dear John,
    I hope you can help me. The other day.
set off for work, leaving my husband in
the house watching TV. My car stal1ed.
and then it broke down about a mile
down the road, and  I had to walk back to
get my husband's help. When I got home,
I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in our
bedroom with the neighbor's daughter!

    I am 32. my husband is 34 and the
neighbor's daughter is 19. We have been
married for 10 years. When I confronted
him  be broke down and admitted they
had been having an affair for the past six
months. He won't go to counseling. and
I'm afraid I am a wreck and need advice
urgently. Can you please help?

Sincerely, Sheila

Dear Sheila,
    A car stalling after being driven
a short distance can be caused by
a variety of faults.  Start by checking that
there's no debris in the fuel line.
If it is clear. check the vacuum pipes and
hoses on the intake manifold and also
check all grounding wires. If none of these
approaches solves the problem, it
could be that the fuel pump itself is
faulty, causing low delivery pressure
to the injectors.

  I hope this helps,

Forwarded by Steve Sanderson, Gilbert. S.C.

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