Political Corrections, Liberals on the Lam and Blessing the Ponies
Plus the ultimate email virus and the kindness of lawyers.
Losing the battle of the sexes. . . The email-enthusiastic Grumps (whom we'll hear more from below) starts us off with this dispatch from the gender wars about "Two Ladies Talking In Heaven":
"First woman: 'Hi! My name is Wanda.'
"Second woman: 'Hi! I'm Sylvia. How'd you die?'
"First woman: 'I froze to death.'
"Second woman: 'How horrible!'
"First woman: 'It wasn't so bad. After I quit shaking from the cold, I began to get warm and sleepy, and finally died a peaceful death. What about you?'
"Second woman: 'I died of a massive heart attack. I suspected that my husband was cheating, so I came home early to catch him in the act. But instead, I found him all by himself in the den watching TV.'
"First woman: 'So, what happened?'
"Second woman: 'I was so sure there was another woman there somewhere that I started running all over the house looking. I ran up into the attic and searched, and down into the basement. Then I went through every closet and checked under all the beds. I kept this up until I had looked everywhere, and finally I became so exhausted that I just keeled over with a heart attack and died.'
"First woman: 'Too bad you didn't look in the freezer—we'd both still be alive.'"
The truth hurts. . . Sometimes we'd just as soon not know the whole truth, as in this bit of brutal honesty from Stan of Cruces:
"The front desk clerk asked, 'Would you like a newly decorated room where all the furnishings emit unseen chemical gases, or any older room where hundreds of guests have shed hair and dander?'''
Send your own examples of over-the-top honesty, real or imagined, to Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062, fax 534-4134 or email diary@desertexposure.com.
Not necessarily the news. . . Ordinarily, Desert Diary eschews anything that touches on politics, lest we offend rather than entertain. But we'll make an exception for this "news item" passed along by Ned Ludd, since we think folks of all political persuasions can get a chuckle out of its equal-opportunity ox-goring:
"The flood of American liberals sneaking across the border into Canada has intensified in the past week, sparking calls for increased patrols to stop the illegal immigration. The actions of President Bush are prompting the exodus among left-leaning citizens who fear they'll soon be required to hunt, pray and agree with Bill O'Reilly.
"Canadian border farmers say it's not uncommon to see dozens of sociology professors, animal-rights activists and Unitarians crossing their fields at night. 'I went out to milk the cows the other day, and there was a Hollywood producer huddled in the barn,' said Manitoba farmer Red Greenfield, whose acreage borders North Dakota. The producer was cold, exhausted and hungry. 'He asked me if I could spare a latte and some free-range chicken. When I said I didn't have any, he left. Didn't even get a chance to show him my screenplay, eh?'
"In an effort to stop the illegal aliens, Greenfield erected higher fences, but the liberals scaled them. So he tried installing speakers that blare Rush Limbaugh across the fields. 'Not real effective,' he said. 'The liberals still got through, and Rush annoyed the cows so much they wouldn't give milk.'
"Officials are particularly concerned about smugglers who meet liberals near the Canadian border, pack them into Volvo station wagons, drive them across the border and leave them to fend for themselves. 'A lot of these people are not prepared for rugged conditions,' an Ontario border patrolman said. 'I found one carload without a drop of drinking water. They did have a nice little Napa Valley cabernet, though.'
"When liberals are caught, they're sent back across the border, often wailing loudly that they fear retribution from conservatives. Rumors have been circulating about the Bush administration establishing re-education camps in which liberals will be forced to drink domestic beer and watch NASCAR races.
"In recent days, liberals have turned to sometimes-ingenious ways of crossing the border. Some have taken to posing as senior citizens on bus trips to buy cheap Canadian prescription drugs. After catching a half-dozen young vegans disguised in powdered wigs, Canadian immigration authorities began stopping buses and quizzing the supposed senior-citizen passengers on Perry Como and Rosemary Clooney hits to prove they were alive in the 1950s. 'If they can't identify the accordion player on "The Lawrence Welk Show," we get suspicious about their age,' an official said.
"Canadian citizens have complained that the illegal immigrants are creating an organic-broccoli shortage and renting all the good Susan Sarandon movies. 'I feel sorry for American liberals, but the Canadian economy just can't support them,' an Ottawa resident said. 'How many art-history majors does one country need?'
"In an effort to ease tensions between the United States and Canada, Vice President Dick Cheney met with the Canadian ambassador and pledged that the administration would take steps to reassure liberals, a source close to Cheney said. 'We're going to have some Peter, Paul and Mary concerts. And we might put some endangered species on postage stamps. The President is determined to reach out,' he said."
The joke's on us (legal division). . . With apologies to lawyers everywhere and a plea to please not sue us, we pass along this funny forward from Poetlodge:
"One afternoon a wealthy lawyer was riding in his limousine when he saw two men along the roadside eating grass. Disturbed, he ordered his driver to stop and he got out to investigate. He asked one man, 'Why are you eating grass?'
"'We don't have any money for food,' the man replied. 'We have to eat grass.'
"'Well, then, you can come with me to my house and I'll feed you,' the lawyer said.
"'But sir, I have a wife and two children with me. They are over there, under that tree.'
"'Bring them along,' the lawyer replied. Turning to the other man, he stated, 'You come with us also.'
"The second man, in a pitiful voice, said, 'But sir, I also have a wife and SIX children with me!'
"'Bring them all, as well,' the lawyer answered. So they all entered the car, which was no easy task, even for a car as large as the limousine.
"Once underway, one of the poor fellows turned to the lawyer and said, 'Sir, you are too kind. Thank you for taking all of us with you.'
"The lawyer replied, 'Glad to do it. You'll really love my place. The grass is almost a foot high!'"
May we have a word?. . . As promised, here's a second helping from Grumps, this on our ever-changing language:
"How to speak about women and be politically correct:
- "She is not a 'babe' or a 'chick'—she is a 'breasted American.'
- "She is not 'easy'—she is 'horizontally accessible.'
- "She does not get 'drunk' or 'tipsy'—she gets 'chemically inconvenienced.'
- "She does not 'nag' you—she becomes 'verbally repetitive.'
- "She is not a 'two-bit hooker'—she is a 'low cost provider.
"How to speak about men and be politically correct:
- "He does not have a 'beer gut'—he has developed a 'liquid grain storage facility.'
- "He is not a 'bad dancer'—he is 'overly Caucasian.'
- "He does not 'get lost all the time'—he 'investigates alternative destinations.'
- "He is not 'balding'—he is in 'follicle regression.'
- "He is not a 'cradle robber'—he prefers 'generational differential relationships.'
- "He does not get 'falling-down drunk'—he becomes 'accidentally horizontal.'
- "He is not a 'male chauvinist pig'—he has 'swine empathy.'
- "He is not afraid of 'commitment'—he is 'relationship challenged.'
- "It's not his 'crack' you see hanging out of his pants—it's 'rear cleavage.'"
Send your own political corrections to our living language to Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062, fax 534-4134 or email diary@desertexposure.com.
The joke's on us (sporting division). . . This yarn about playing the ponies comes to us courtesy of JohnS:
"One day while he was at the track betting on the ponies and nearly losing his shirt, Mitch noticed a priest who stepped out onto the track and blessed the forehead of one of the horses lining up for the fourth race. Lo and behold, that horse—a very long shot—won the race.
"Mitch was most interested to see what the priest did the next race. Sure enough, the priest stepped out onto the track as the fifth race horses lined up, and placed a blessing on the forehead of one of the horses. Mitch made a beeline for the window, and placed a small bet on the horse. Again, even though it was another long shot, the horse the priest had blessed won the race.
"Mitch collected his winnings, and anxiously waited to see which horse the priest would bless for the sixth race. The priest showed, blessed a horse, Mitch bet on it, and it won! Mitch was elated!
"As the day went on, the priest continued blessing horses, and they always came in first. Mitch began to pull in some serious money, and by the last race, he knew his wildest dreams were going to come true. He made a quick stop at the ATM, withdrew his savings, and awaited the priest's blessing that would tell him which horse to bet on. The priest stepped out onto the track before the last race and blessed the forehead, eyes, ears and hooves of one of the horses. Mitch bet every cent, and watched the horse come in dead last.
"Mitch was dumbfounded. He made his way to the track, and when he found the priest, he demanded, 'What happened, Father? All day long you blessed horses and they won. The last race, you blessed a horse and he lost. Now, thanks to you, I've lost all my savings!'
"The priest nodded wisely and said, 'That's the problem with Protestants—you can't tell the difference between a simple blessing and the Last Rites!'"
Isn't technology wonderful?. . . As we were rummaging through our email inbox, trying to separate the spam from the spyware, we paused at this "warning" forwarded by Dakota Duaine:
"If you receive an email entitled 'Bedtimes,' delete it IMMEDIATELY. Do not open it. Apparently this one is pretty nasty. It will not only erase everything on your hard drive, but it will also delete anything on disks within 20 feet of your computer. It demagnetizes the stripes on ALL of your credit cards. It reprograms your ATM access code, screws up the tracking on your VCR, and uses subspace field harmonics to scratch any CDs you attempt to play.
"It will program your phone autodial to call only 0898 numbers. This virus will mix antifreeze into your fish tank. IT WILL CAUSE YOUR TOILET TO FLUSH WHILE YOU ARE SHOWERING. It will drink ALL your beer. FOR GOD'S SAKE, ARE YOU LISTENING?
"It will leave dirty underwear on the coffee table when you are expecting company. It will replace your shampoo with Nair and your Nair with Rogaine. If the 'Bedtimes' message is opened in a Windows 98/ME environment, it will leave the toilet seat up and leave your hair dryer plugged in dangerously close to a full bathtub. It will not only remove the forbidden tags from your mattresses and pillows, it will also refill your skim milk with whole milk.
"***WARN AS MANY PEOPLE AS YOU CAN.***
"And if you don't send this to 5,000 people in 20 seconds, you'll pass gas so hard that your right leg will spasm and shoot straight out in front of you, sending sparks that will ignite the person nearest you. Send this warning to everyone!!
"THERE'S A LOT OF SADNESS IN THE WORLD! Right now, as you read this, 17 million people are having SEX!!! And look at you—you're on the computer!"
You're only as old as you feel. . . This report from the frontiers of aging was sent our way by Crown West:
"After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply for Social Security. The woman behind the counter asked me for my driver's license to verify my age. I looked in my pockets and realized I had left my wallet at home. I told the woman that I was very sorry but I seemed to have left my wallet at home: 'I will have to go home and come back later.'
"The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt.'
"So I opened my shirt, revealing my curly silver hair.
"She said, 'That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me,' and she processed my Social Security application.
"When I got home, I told my wife about my experience at the Social Security office. She said, 'You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten disability, too.'"
Pondering the imponderables. . . Finally, some "Zen Funnies" forwarded for your pondering and enlightenment by Toni in the Vet's Office:
"Do not walk behind me, for I may not lead. Do not walk ahead of me, for I may not follow. Do not walk beside me, either. Just pretty much leave me the hell alone.
"The journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and leaky tire.
"It's always darkest before dawn. So if you're going to steal your neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it.
"Don't be irreplaceable. If you can't be replaced, you can't be promoted.
"Always remember that you're unique. Just like everyone else.
"Never test the depth of the water with both feet.
"If you think nobody cares if you're alive, try missing a couple of car payments.
"Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.
"If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.
"Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish, and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day.
"If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.
"If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.
"Some days you're the bug; some days you're the windshield.
"Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.
"The quickest way to double your money is to fold it in half and put it back in your pocket.
"A closed mouth gathers no foot.
"Duct tape is like 'The Force.' It has a light side and a dark side, and it holds the universe together.
"There are two theories to arguing with women. Neither one works.
"Generally speaking, you aren't learning much when your lips are moving.
"Experience is something you don't get until just after you need it.
"Never miss a good chance to shut up.
"Never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night."
Send us your words of wisdom, your curmudgeonly lectures, favorite jokes, awful puns and anecdotes, heartwarming or non-, to Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062, fax 534-4134, email diary@desertexposure.com. Remember, the best submissions get one of our new 10th anniversary mugs — an exclusive collector's item we expect to see on eBay any day now.