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Captain Slow    Registered Member #3 Joined: Fri Dec 19 2003Location: Scotland Posts: 4651 | A farmer named Bill was overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous pasture in Scotland when suddenly a brand-new 4x4 advanced toward him out of a cloud of dust. The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, RayBan sunglasses and YSL tie, leaned out the window and asked the farmer, "If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?" Bill looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure, why not?" The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo. The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg. Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response. Finally, he prints out a full-colour, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer, turns to the farmer and says, "You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves." "That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves," says Bill. He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on with amusement as the young man stuffs it into the boot of his car. Then Bill says to the young man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?" The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?" "You're a Member of the European Parliament", says Bill. "Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?" "No guessing required." answered the farmer. "You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You used millions of pounds worth of equipment trying to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don't know a thing about how working people make a living - or about cows, for that matter. This is a flock of sheep... Now give me back my dog. [ Edited Mon Apr 09 2012 ] | ||
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| *HmS*Cardinal |
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I am root. If you see me laughing, you‘d better have a backup! Registered Member #1489 Joined: Sat Nov 11 2006Location: Münster (Westphalia), Germany Posts: 1216 | ROFL | ||
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| *HmS*grunt |
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| Life is like a box of chocolates... Registered Member #14 Joined: Sat Dec 20 2003Location: Ontario, Canada Posts: 2646 | New Direction for any war: Send Service Vets over 60! I am over 60 and the Armed Forces thinks I'm too old to track down terrorists. You can't be older than 42 to join the military. They've got the whole thing ass-backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least 35. For starters, researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy. Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. 'My back hurts! I can't sleep, I'm tired and hungry.' We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some asshole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for awhile.. An 18-year-old doesn't even like to get up before 10am. Old guys always get up early to pee, so what the hell. Besides, like I said, I'm tired and can't sleep and since I'm already up, I may as well be up killing some fanatical son-of-a-bitch. If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser. Boot camp would be easier for old guys.. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at and we're used to soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We've been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling. They could lighten up on the obstacle course however... I've been in combat and never saw a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training. Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too... I've never seen anyone outrun a bullet. An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave, to start a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn't figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head. These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way. Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists. The last thing an enemy would want to see is a couple million pissed off old farts with attitudes and automatic weapons, who know that their best years are already behind them. HEY!! How about recruiting Women over 50...in menopause!!! You think MEN have attitudes?? Ohhhhhhhhhhhh my God!!! If nothing else, put them on border patrol. They'll have it secured the first night! | ||
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| Life is like a box of chocolates... Registered Member #14 Joined: Sat Dec 20 2003Location: Ontario, Canada Posts: 2646 | Man's Age -- as Determined by a Trip to Home Depot You are in the middle of some kind of project around the house --. Mowing the lawn, putting in a new fence, painting the living room or whatever. You are hot and sweaty, covered in dust, lawn clippings, dirt or paint. You have your old work clothes on. You know the outfit -- shorts with the hole in the crotch, old T-shirt with a stain from who-knows-what and an old pair of tennis shoes. Right in the middle of this great home improvement project you realize you need to run to Home Depot to get something to help complete the job. Depending on your age you might do the following: In your 20's: Stop what you are doing. Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush your teeth, floss and put on clean clothes. Check yourself in the mirror and flex. Add a dab of your favourite cologne because you never know, you just might meet some hot chick while standing in the checkout lane. And you went to school with the pretty girl running the register. In your 30's: Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change shoes. You married the hot chick so no need for much else. Wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. Still got it. Add a shot of your favourite cologne to cover the smell. The cute girl running the register is the kid sister to someone you went to school with. In your 40's: Stop what you are doing. Put on a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover the hole in the crotch of your shorts. Put on different shoes and a hat. Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brute Cologne is almost empty so you don't want to waste any of it on a trip to Home Depot. Check yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing. The hot young thing running the register is your daughter's age and you feel weird thinking she is spicy. In your 50's: Stop what you are doing. Put on a hat; wipe the dirt off your hands onto your shirt. Change shoes because you don't want to get dog crap in your new sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and you swear not to wear that shirt anymore because it makes you look fat. The Cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think you still have it. Then you remember the hat you have on is from Bubba's Bait & Beer Bar and it says, 'I Got Worms.' In your 60's: Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat anymore. Hose the dog crap off your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your 50's. You hope you have underwear on so nothing hangs out the hole in your pants. The girl running the register may be cute, but you don't have your glasses on so you are not sure. In your 70's: Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to Home Depot until the drug store has your prescriptions ready, too. Don't even notice the dog crap on your shoes. The young thing at the register stares at you and you realize your testicles are hanging out the hole in your crotch. In your 80's: Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you remember you need to go to Home Depot. Go to Wal-Mart instead and wander around trying to think what it is you are looking for. Fart out loud and you think someone called out your name. You went to school with the old lady who greeted you at the front door. In your 90's & beyond: What's a home deep hoe? Something for my garden? Where am I? Who am I? Why am I reading this? Did I send it? Did you? Who farted? | ||
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| Life is like a box of chocolates... Registered Member #14 Joined: Sat Dec 20 2003Location: Ontario, Canada Posts: 2646 | The Cow, the Ant and the Old Fart A cow, an ant and an old fart are debating on who is the greatest of the three of them. The cow said, "I give 20 quarts of milk every day and that's why I am the greatest!" The ant said, "I work day and night, summer and winter, I can carry 52 times my own weight and that's why I am the greatest!" Why are you scrolling down? It's your turn to say something. . | ||
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| *HmS*Cardinal |
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| I am root. If you see me laughing, you‘d better have a backup! Registered Member #1489 Joined: Sat Nov 11 2006Location: Münster (Westphalia), Germany Posts: 1216 | I wanted to type "nice ones, grunt!" but was lucky enough to check the date on the post before the last one, so I remembered to have read it last October ... still made laugh ... (again ... I would think).... (who farted!?....) | ||
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