A lady goes to her priest one day and tells him, ‘Father, I have a problem.
I have two female parrots, but they only know how to say one thing.’
‘What do they say?’ the priest inquired.
They say, ‘Hi, we’re hookers! Do you want to have some fun?’

That’s obscene!’ the priest exclaimed. Then he thought for a moment. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I may have a solution to your problem. I have two male talking parrots that I have taught to pray and read the Bible.

Bring your two parrots over to my house, and we’ll put them in the cage with Francis and Peter. My parrots can teach your parrots to praise and worship, and your parrots are sure to stop saying that phrase in no time.’

‘Thank you,’ the woman responded, ‘this may very well be the solution.’
The next day, she brought her female parrots to the priest’s house. As he ushered her in, she saw that his two male parrots were inside their cage holding rosary beads and praying.
Impressed, she walked over and placed her parrots in with them.
After a few minutes, the female parrots cried out in unison: ‘Hi, we’re hookers! Do you want to have some fun?’
There was stunned silence.
Shocked, one male parrot looked over at the other male parrot and exclaimed, ‘Put the beads away Frank. Our prayers have been answered!’

This is an update of an old classic I first read in the early 70’s in a late 60’s edition of Reader’s Digest:

Why Parents Drink

A father passing by his son’s bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then he saw an Envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow that was addressed to ‘Dad.’ With the worst premonition he opened the envelope with trembling hands and read the letter.

Dear Dad:

It is with great regret and sorrow that I’m writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Mom and you.

I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice.

But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercing, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am. But it’s not only the passion…Dad she’s pregnant.

Stacy said that we will be very happy.

She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children.

Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn’t really hurt anyone. We’ll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy.

In the meantime we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She deserves it.

Don’t worry Dad. I’m 15 and I know how to take care of myself.

Someday I’m sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren.

Love, Your Son John

PS. Dad, none of the above is true. I’m over at Tommy’s house.

I just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than a Report card That’s in my center desk drawer.

I love you.

I’d love to know how many people get the title reference. If you don’t, this is worth a giggle…

Three little ducks waddle into a Bar……

‘Say, what’s your name?’ the bartender asked the first duck.

‘Huey,’ was the reply.

‘How’s your day been, Huey?’

‘Great. Lovely day. Had a ball. Been in and out of puddles all day. What else could a duck want?’ said Huey.

‘Oh. That’s nice,’ said the bartender. He turned to the second duck, ‘Hi, and what’s your name?’

‘Dewey,’ came the answer from duck number two.

‘So how’s your day been, Dewey! ?’ he asked.

‘Great. Lovely day. I’ve had a ball too. Been in and out of puddles all day myself. What else could a duck want?’

The bartender turned to the third duck and said, ‘So, you must be Louie?’

‘No,’ she said, batting her eyelashes..

‘My name is Puddles.’

Ok, I have a new blog site (now four, including this one). It is at http://mytech.fywservices.com/ and is for your personal technical interests.

Have fun, and don’t blame me if you are bored, because you could have told me you like this eclectic site here and I wouldn’t have had to create three new ones.

This one will eventually become just the jokes, once I get the time to do that.

Remember, these are forwarded to me, I don’t make them up. Otherwise I would have made it a pointy-haired boss

The Blonde Sister

Two sisters, one blonde and one brunette, inherit the family ranch. Unfortunately, after just a few years, they are in financial trouble. In order to keep the bank from repossessing the ranch, they need to purchase a bull so that they can breed their own stock.

Upon leaving, the brunette tells her sister, ‘When I get there, if I decide to buy the bull, I’ll contact you to drive out after me and haul it home.’

The brunette arrives at the man’s ranch with $600, inspects the bull, and decides she wants to buy it. The man tells her that he will sell it for $599, no less.

After paying him, she drives to the nearest town to send her sister a telegram to tell her the news. She walks into the telegraph office, and says, ‘I want to send a telegram to my sister telling her that I’ve bought a bull for our ranch. I need her to hitch the trailer to our pickup truck and drive out here so we can haul it home.’

The telegraph operator explains that he’ll be glad to help her, and then adds, it will cost 99 cents a word. Well, after paying for the bull, the brunette realizes that she’ll only be able to send her sister one word.

After a few minutes of thinking, she nods and says, ‘I want you to send her the word ‘comfortable.’

The opera tor shakes his head. ‘How is she ever going to know that you want her to hitch the trailer to your pickup truck and drive out here to haul that bull back to your ranch if you send her just the word ‘comfortable?’

The brunette explains, “My sister’s blonde. The word is big. She’ll read it very slowly…. “com-for-da-bul".

Trying out http://www.easyduplicatefinder.com/. Will follow up on how well (or not) it works. Really need to start the personal tech blog.

Joe Diddley was a failed body builder. In the competitions he wowed judges with milk-jug sized biceps, pects like twin propane tanks, and shoulders as broad as a barn. But Joe’s thighs looked barely big enough to hold him up.

Diddley didn’t do squats.

This bad pun brought to you by time 06:00 and the drug caffeine.

Stolen from the Linked In LOL Group

What is the difference between girls/women aged: 8, 18, 28, 38, 48, 58, 68, and 78 ?

At 8 – You take her to bed and tell her a story.
At 18 – You tell her a story and take her to bed
At 28 – You don’t need to tell her a story to take her to bed.
At 38 – She tells you a story and takes you to bed.
At 48 – She tells you a story to avoid going to bed.
At 58 – You stay in bed to avoid her story.
At 68 – If you take her to bed, that’ll be a story!
At 78 – What story??? What bed??? Who are you anyway???

I don’t recall the actual quote, or which RAH book, just that it went something like “I know it is time for rejuvenation when a woman walks by and I no longer care“.

With age comes wisdom.

A guy is 85 years old and loves to fish. He was sitting in his boat the other day when he heard a voice say, ‘Pick me up..’
He looked around and couldn’t see any one.

He thought? he was dreaming when he heard the voice say again, ‘Pick me up.’
He looked in the water and there, floating on the top, was a frog.

The man said, ‘Are you talking to me?’

The frog said, ‘Yes, I’m talking to you. Pick me up then, kiss me and I’ll turn into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and I will be your bride!’

The man looked at the frog for a short time, reached over, picked it up carefully, and placed it in his front breast pocket.
Then the frog said, ‘ Didn’t you hear what I said? I said kiss me and I will be your beautiful bride.’
He opened his pocket, looked at the frog and said,

“Nah, at my age I’d rather have a talking frog.”

http://www.developer.com/java/data/article.php/3822521

I was reading a recent Analog issue and ran across this interesting story that was written as an online chat. Neat idea. Will only work once per market, and I wish I had thought of it. I noticed the author seemed to use only one bit of ‘netspeak (a term only I seem to remember), but it was one I had never seen before: IJS. I had to look it up, which took awhile as there were only two sites that appear to have a relevant definition. It stands for I’m Just Saying. According to the first site I found, it is supposed to be used at the end of a sentence, though I seem to recall the story used it at the beginning of sentences. The second site I found containing the same meaning was worth the hunt just for the site.

OTOH, IJS I don’t think I will be using it anytime soon.

Apparently they are just starting this new bit where they show the actual buildings on the street maps and camera shots. It doesn’t show up everywhere, but it does in Boston. See for yourself at http://www.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=boston&sll=35.229548,-80.834937&sspn=0.001597,0.002865&ie=UTF8&ll=42.358845,-71.05559&spn=0.005779,0.011458&z=17

It took a long time to find, so I am replicating here in addition to bookmarking this post from a DaniWeb discussion thread:

1. Remove the battery from the bottom of the laptop

2. Make sure the laptop is NOT plugged in.

3. There is a release button for the CD/DVD ROM drive on the bottom of the laptop, simply press and hold the release switch and pull the CD/DVD drive out.

4. Once the CD/DVD drive is remove volia! The hard drive is right there! :cheesy:

5. Next just remove the 4 screws securing the drive in place, pull the drive back toward you to slide it out of it’s pin-position.

6. Remove the mouting bracket from the hard drive (4 more screws) on 2 screws on each side of the drive.

7. Then of course just replace it with whatever drive size you wish and your good to go.

My response to the article title Have we all become a bunch of anxious, depressed, sleep-deprived irritable stress-heads?

Another FUQ blog launched today: Cheap, Lazy Investing

Sometimes, the job isn’t so bad (or even great), and yet you still feel dissatisfied at the end of the day. Looks like careers and real estate now have something in common: location, location, location. If you are thinking about relocating while looking for work, or looking for work but not considering relocating, or working and thinking about relocating but not looking, look at this article on Yahoo! Shine: Top 25 cities for your career.

One life lesson I picked up is to evaluate the location based on your own personal life style rather than what some(or every)one else does. What is a reduced cost of living for some is an increase or lateral move.

http://deepleap.org/, which I heard about from The List.

It just doesn’t get any more fuq than this: http://www.fmylife.com/

It took several attempts to come up with the following Google search values to find the fix for this:
“vista comdlg32.ocx registered file missing”

The site that helped me get it fixed was Ramesh’s Site.

One variation in my fix was that I didn’t bother over-writing my existing files, I simply ran the reg command. In my case it was because I had fixed this once before, but the notes from my last fix were incomplete (thus this blog entry). Had that not worked, my next step would have been to replace my existing files with the ones available on his site and register.

Note: This is posted under NA and Jokes. So get through the techno babble at the start without crossing your eyes or going to sleep, please, and you might laugh by the end.

I was reading the specifications for a software program where the maximum value it would accept for a particular setting was 2147483647 seconds. Not a number I will remember on a certification exam. So I whipped out my handy calculator (startruncalc.exe) and figured this out to be just a shade over 68 years.

So, the setting could not get past 69, which reminded me of other technical limits this number is know for.

The speed limit of sex is 68, because at 69 you eat it.
The square root of 69 is eight something.
And now, the time a transaction can try to take is 68 years, after which it gets sucked back to where it started.

Ok, yeah, only the nerds are laughing at that last one, and only some of them. But, hey, that is how my head works in its humor division.