Drug Sniffing Dog

Oh, good grief - I love my email box....

A man had just settled into his seat next to the window on the plane when another man sits down in the aisle seat and puts his black Labrador in the middle seat next to the man. The first man looks very quizzically at the dog and asks why the dog is allowed on the plane. The second man explains that he is a Drug Enforcement Agency officer and the dog is a 'Sniffer dog'. 'His name is Smithy and he's the best there is. I'll show you once we get airborne, when I put him to work.'

The plane takes off, and once it has leveled out, the agent says: Watch this.' He tells Smithy to 'search'.

Smithy jumps down, walks along the aisle, and finally sits very purposefully next to a woman for several seconds. Smithy then returns to his seat and puts one paw on the agent's arm. The agent says, 'Good boy', and he turns to the man and says: 'That woman is in possession of marijuana , so I'm making a note of her seat number and the authorities will apprehend her when we land.'

'Say, that's pretty neat,' replies the first man. Once again, the agent sends Smithy to search the aisles. The Lab sniffs about, sits down beside a man for a few seconds, returns to his seat and this time, he places TWO paws on the agent's arm. The agent says, 'That man is carrying cocaine, so again, I'm making note of his seat number for the police.'

'I like it!' says his seat mate.

The agent then tells Smithy to 'search' again. Smithy walks up and down the aisles for a little while, sits down for a moment and then comes racing back to the agent, jumps into the middle seat and proceeds to crap all over the place. The first man is really amazed by this behavior and can't figure out how or why a well-trained dog would behave like this, so he asks the agent 'What's going on?'

The agent nervously replies, 'He just found a bomb.!!!'

When You Just Can't Help Yourself

This friend of mine sends me some really good stuff sometimes, and it's always a pleasure to open my email box and see her name pop up.






How can you NOT laugh?

That's Just Funny

Proof that some people out there have an even MORE disturbing sense of humor than I:

Wal-Mart Interview

A manager at Wal-Mart had the task of hiring someone to fill a job opening. After sorting through a stack of resumes, he found four people who were equally qualified. He decided to call the four in and ask them only one question. Their answer would determine which of them would get the job.

The day came and as the four sat around the conference room table, the interviewer asked, "What is the fastest thing you know of?"

The first man replied, "A THOUGHT... It just pops into your head. There's no warning."

"That's very good!" replied the interviewer. "And now you, sir?" he asked the second man.

"Hmmmm... Let me see. A blink! It comes and goes and you don't know that it ever happened. A BLINK is the fastest thing I know of."

"Excellent!" said the interviewer. "The blink of an eye, that's a very popular cliche for speed." He then turned to the third man, who was contemplating his reply.

"Well, out at my dad's ranch, you step out of the house and on the wall there's a light switch. When you flip that switch, way out across the pasture, the light on the barn comes on in less than an instant. Yep, TURNING ON A LIGHT is the fastest thing I can think of."

The interviewer was very impressed with the third answer and thought he had found his man. "It's hard to beat the speed of light," he said.

Turning to Bubba, the fourth and final man, the interviewer posed the same question. Old Bubba replied, "After hearing the previous three answers, it's obvious to me that the fastest thing known is DIARRHEA."

"WHAT?!?!?!" said the interviewer, stunned by the response.

"Oh, sure," said Bubba. "You see, the other day I wasn't feeling so good, and I ran for the bathroom. But before I could THINK, BLINK, or TURN ON THE LIGHT, I had already shit my pants."

Bubba is now the new greeter at a Wal-Mart near you!

Is THIS the Face of a CIC?

Well, is it? Is this REALLY the face of our nation?

(This collage is GREAT!)

Untitled Email

I know I've mentioned it before, but I love some of the junk that falls into my email box. I'd turn off spam blocker merely for amusement purposes if I had time to sift through 4.5 million spam messages a day, but I don't and I can't so I won't. No matter how hard spam blocker tries, though, occasionally one slips through and rear its ugly head in my Inbox.

I know not to click untitled email from Harry Longshank or email entitled "Hi" with no sender listed. Even though Snopes debunks many of those telling me not to click on Liberty Torch or Friendship, I have "better safe than sorry" burned in my mind and just don't. Then there are insurance quotes and other stuff I know I didn't solicit but have managed to deceive spam blocker. These all get a ticket from me for operating without a valid license on the information superhighway in my jurisdiction and have a nice day, ma'am (yes, I have a thing for cops, too, once a little bit TOO much--something about a man in uniform carrying a big gun, or was it the siren and flashing bubble light on top of his car???).

I get a cackle out of penis extension emails promising to grow me up to 2 inches, although what I'd do with an up-to-2-inch penis is beyond me--I don't think that's even long enough to write my name with in the snow, a feat I'd always secretly envied men for, being of the female persuasion and hearing what I believe now to be tall tales; somehow, though, I've managed to go 35 years without ever even having seen human-yellowed snow, let alone someone's name sketched merrily across the landscaping. I even find subtle humor in the scads of emails from debt reduction companies, probably owned by the same company owning the credit card that was so kind in assisting me in getting into trouble in the first place.

My favorite emails, though, are of two sorts: First, the inspiring (generally Christian-themed) emails giving me a message that I probably really needed to hear that day and not telling me I need to secure my blessings by passing it on to at least 8 people. I know my blessings come from above, not from the Ethernet, but I also know the person on the other end of the Ethernet was probably asking Him to help me. This is one of my ramblings making little sense, but that's just me, like it or leave it. Second, I love GOOD jokes. They're usually dirty or at least slightly off-color, but they give me the best kind of medicine I need: Laughter. I ain't shitting you that Laughter really IS the best Medicine. . . after all, you're my favorite turd. And I'm as serious as a heart attack, or was it a rubber crutch?

Back to the point. Some while ago someone here on the Internetz (don't ask me who, because my memory's gone down the pipe and there are at least 65 posts in my reader every day--keep up the good work, guys!) posted a picture of 3 somewhat older topless ladies who'd been "decorated" with frog faces. It grossed me out then. . . and today I got an email from a friend I haven't heard from in ages with the same picture. . . and it still grosses me out. But in a morbid kind of way, it IS amusing - if wrong - on a number of levels.

Anyhow, vaguely titled emails sent to me from someone I love dearly are also good medicine for me, and here's another classic. Although it's an oldie, it's still a goodie and made me laugh today just like it did years ago:

Three women, two younger and one senior citizen, were sitting naked in a sauna. Suddenly there was a beeping sound. The young woman pressed her forearm and the beep stopped. The others looked at her questioningly. "That was my pager," she said. "I have a microchip under the skin of my arm." A few minutes later, a phone rang. The second young woman lifted her palm to her ear. When she was finished, she explained, "That was my mobile phone. I have a microchip in my hand." The older woman felt very low tech. Not to be outdone, she decided she had to do something just as impressive. She stepped out of the sauna and went to the bathroom. She returned with a piece of toilet paper hanging from her rear end. The others raised their eyebrows and stared at her. The older woman finally said. . . "Well, will you look at that. . . I'm getting a fax!"

And this, entitled "A Blonde's Year in Review":

January: Took new scarf back to store because it was too tight.
February: Fired from pharmacy job for failing to print labels. . . . HELLLLLOOOOO!!!!! . . . . bottles won't fit in printer!!!
March: Got really excited. . . . finished jigsaw puzzle in 6 months. . . . box said "2-4 years"!
April: Trapped on escalator for hours. . . . power went out.
May: Tried to make Kool-Aid. . . . wrong instructions. . . . 8 cups of water won't fit into those little packets!
June: Tried to go water skiing. . . . couldn't find a lake with a slope.
July: Lost breast stroke swimming competition. . . . learned later other swimmers cheated. . . . they used their arms!!
August: Got locked out of car in rain storm. . . . car swamped because soft-top was open.
September: Capital of California is "C". . . . isn't it?
October: Hate M&M's. . . . they are so hard to peel.
November: Baked turkey for 4-1/2 days. . . . instructions said 1 hour per pound and I weigh 108!
December: Couldn't call 911. DUH. . . . There's no "eleven" button on the stupid phone!

And finally:

A man was in his front yard mowing grass when his attractive blond female neighbor came out of the house and went straight to the mailbox. She opened it up then slammed it shut and stormed back into the house. A little while later she came out of her house again and went to the mailbox, again opened i and slammed it shut again. Angrily, back into the house she went. As the man was getting ready to edge the law, here she came again, marching to the mailbox. She opened it and then slammed it closed harder than ever. Puzzled by her actions, the man asked her "Is something wrong?" To which she replied, "There ceratainly is! My stupid computer keeps saying "YOU'VE GOT MAIL!"

Psychopath Test - Part II

Sorry I didn't get around to this earlier, but I was knocked on my bottom by a killer migraine and the lovelies that go along with it.

Anyhow, the answer to the test is:

Because she was hoping the guy would appear at the funeral again.

So. . . if you were able to answer this correctly, you think like a psychopath.

The email this came in claimed that this was a test administered to serial killers and that many were able to answer it correctly (whether this is true or not I cannot verify, but it's still interesting).

Anger Management

I know I've said it before, but I have to say it again: I love email. I get so much of it that is just too good not to share, I don't have time to blog it all. Here's another one that actually made me laugh, even in my present state of "being":

Anger Management

When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.

I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying 'Hello.' I politely said, 'This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?' Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear 'Get the right fucking number!' and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.

After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.

When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled 'You're an asshole!' and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, 'You're an asshole!' It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, 'Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?' He yelled 'NO!' and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and said, 'That's because you're an asshole!' and hung up.

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking Spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a 'For Sale' sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial,) I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole, too. I said, 'Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?' He said, 'Yes, it is.' I asked, 'Can you tell me where I can see it?' He said, 'Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax. It's a yellow rambler, and the car's parked right out in front.' I asked, 'What's your name?' He said, 'My name is Don Hansen.' I asked, 'When's a good time to catch you, Don?' He said, 'I'm home every evening after five.' I said, 'Listen, Don, can I tell you something?' He said, 'Yes?' I said, 'Don, you're an asshole!'

Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.

Then I came up with an idea. I called asshole #1. He said, 'Hello.' I said, 'You're an asshole!' (But I didn't hang up.) He asked, 'Are you still there?' I said, 'Yeah.' He screamed, 'Stop calling me!' I said, 'Make me.' He asked, 'Who are you?' I said, 'My name is Don Hansen.' He said, 'Yeah? Where do you live?' I said, 'Asshole, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax, a yellow rambler, I have a black Beamer parked in front.' He said, 'I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers.' I said, 'Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole,' and hung up.

Then I called asshole#2. He said, 'Hello?' I said, 'Hello, asshole.' He yelled, 'If I ever find out who you are...' I said, 'You'll what?' He exclaimed, 'I'll kick your ass,' I answered, 'Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now.'

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd. in Fairfax.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax. I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.

NOW I feel much better.

Psychopath Test - Part I

Got this in the email, found it rather interesting (and yes, I failed miserably, could come up with no answer whatsoever, so I guess I'm not a psychopath):

[The test originally was all in one email and said to scroll down to get the answer, but I changed it to give you the answer tomorrow. Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, and that much blank space is just a waste of blog-o-sphere.]

Read the question, come up with an answer, and tomorrow I will give you the answer. This is not a trick question. It is as it reads.

A woman, while at the funeral of her own mother, met a man who she did not know. She thought he was "amazing." She believed him to be her dream partner so much, that she fell in love with him right there, but never asked for his number and could not find him. A few days later she killed her sister.

Question: What was her motive for killing her sister?

Lookie Here

I see I am approaching 200 posts. That's very interesting, considering I never thought I'd get through 100, let alone twice that many and considering the fact that I'm really only here to entertain myself - you guys are just being dragged along for the ride, but I appreciate you being here. Who'd have thunk I had that much shit rolling around inside my head (and in the inbox of my email....man, I get lots of stuff, and you haven't seen even a small fraction of it yet)?

With that thought, and in the spirit of the holiday season, I leave you with this:



Must be the anti-Christmas folks are at it again? I guess I missed that one on the news. Isn't this just MEAN? That poor little boy.

I Love My Job

I really, really do. It's one of the few jobs I can think of that doesn't take a degree in rocket science and still keeps you on your toes, where you learn something new every single day. Mostly I love this job for what are considered "bloopers," sometimes caught by the person dictating and sometimes not. I've been doing this type of job for, oh, the past 19 years in different fields, predominantly medical and legal (and often the two go hand-in-hand). You can't help but giggle when you hear someone cussing in the background or even right into the microphone. You have to literally laugh out loud when you hear them say something completely off the wall and unexpected, realize what they've said, and then follow it up with "Oh, shit, take that out." Sometimes you have to shake your head in disbelief that someone would say something so blatantly hilarious without having that intention.

A few of my favorite snippets from the years have included:

• "She was struck with another cheerleader while at cheerleader camp." (How the hell do you strike someone with a cheerleader?)
• "The patient's sister died at age 100 of unknown causes." (I would guess OLD AGE or NATURAL CAUSES, but anyhow).
• "He is just so arrogant, it is hard to believe him." (ROFL)
• "He/she complains of [...]. She/he has been having symptoms of [...]. He/she will undergo [...]" (referring to a trans-gendered patient in the process of sex change - ummm, I think I would have settled on the sex the patient was converting to, rather than "he/she")
• "The patient complains he smells bad...Wait, no, that's not right...The patient complains his sense of smell is bad." (Do we really wanna go there?)
• "Ah, shit, I don't know what I'm saying. Just make me sound good." (Sometimes easier said than done, but I love ya anyhow)
  
• "Angie, you know what the hell I'm saying, so just put it in there." (I get paid to mind read now, too? Where's the frigging bonus check?)
  

Totally One of Those Days

No, this isn't mine - yet. I do manage to keep my cigarettes in the ashtray and I don't drink alcohol (again - YET). I do, however, have a rather large bottle of Tums sitting on the hutch above my monitor. . .

How Smart is Your Right Foot?

I got this email and got a giggle out of it (thanks for giving me one more useless bit of knowledge to clutter up my head, Andrea!) and thought I'd pass it on:

How smart is Your Right Foot ?

Just try this. It is from an orthopedic surgeon............

This will boggle your mind and you will keep trying over and over again to see if you can outsmart your foot, but, you can't. It's preprogrammed in your brain!

WITHOUT anyone watching you (they will think you are GOOFY......) and while sitting where you are at your desk in front of your computer, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles. Now, while doing this, draw the number "6" in the air with your right hand. Your foot will change direction. (If it doesn't you have a neurological problem)!

I told you so!!! And there's nothing you can do about it!

You and I both know how stupid it is, but before the day is done you are going to try it again, if you've not already done so. Send it to your buddies to frustrate them, too.

Thought for the Day

Out of My Funk Now

I feel better now, having been in a bit of a snit the last few days, and it's not even that time of the month. Sheesh! Anyhow, I'm over myself now and in the mood for something fun. After all, I actually enjoy changing my drawers because I peed them from laughing so hard, ESPECIALLY when in a bad mood - the best way to get out of it!

This made me laugh. A lot. A mental picture I will carry to the grave and beyond. I will still be laughing about it when standing in line waiting for my Judgment. (That will be me over there in the long, slow-moving line, since the shorter, faster-moving one kind of makes me pee my pants for an entirely different reason: It scares the bodily fluids right out of me. Nothing good ever came out of a short, fast-moving line in THIS lifetime, it is NEVER the right line to be in anyhow, so just exactly where is that one leading to???)

Anyhow, this kind of reminds me of when I worked for this doctor who would hurry to get to the office so he could tell me all the good dirty jokes he heard in surgery that morning at the hospital (yes, people, some surgeons stand there telling each other dirty jokes while they are up to their elbows in you). He never got them right, but it was all good since the way he told them actually made them that much funnier.

What's the difference between a snow man and a snow woman? Snow balls.

What did the snow man ask his wife to get for him? A snow blower.

Old, I know, and only mildly dirty but funny anyhow when you stop to consider where I got them.

Medical Funnies

Gotta have a sense of humor in this profession, I tell ya. This has been circulating for ages, and I giggle every time I see it, so I thought I would share:

• A man comes into the ER and yells, "My wife's going to have her baby in the cab!" I grabbed my stuff, rushed out to the cab, lifted the lady's dress, and began to take off her underwear. Suddenly I noticed that there were several cabs, and I was in the wrong one. Submitted by Dr. Mark MacDonald, San Antonio, TX
• At the beginning of my shift I placed a stethoscope on an elderly and slightly deaf female patient's anterior chest wall. "Big breaths," I instructed. "Yes, they used to be," replied the patient. Submitted by Dr. Richard Byrnes, Seattle, WA
• One day I had to be the bearer of bad news when I told a wife that her husband had died of a massive myocardial infarct. Not more than five minutes later, I heard her reporting to the rest of the family that he had died of a "massive internal fart." Submitted by Dr. Susan Steinberg, Manitoba, Canada
• During a patient's two-week followup appointment with his cardiologist, he informed me, his doctor, that he was having trouble with one of his medications. "Which one?" I asked. "The patch. The nurse told me to put on a new one every six hours and now I'm running out of places to put it!" I had him quickly undress and discovered what I hoped I wouldn't see. Yes, the man had over fifty patches on his body! Now, the instructions include removal of the old patch before applying a new one. Submitted by Dr. Rebecca St. Clair, Norfolk, VA
• While acquainting myself with a new elderly patient, I asked, "How long have you been bedridden?" After a look of complete confusion she answered..."Why, not for about twenty years, when my husband was alive." Submitted by Dr. Steven Swanson, Corvallis, OR
• I was caring for a woman and asked, "So how's your breakfast this morning?" "It's very good, except for the Kentucky Jelly. I can't seem to get used to the taste" the patient replied. I then asked to see the jelly and the woman produced a foil packet labeled "KY Jelly." Submitted by Dr. Leonard Kransdorf, Detroit, MI
• A nurse was on duty in the Emergency Room, when a young woman with purple hair styled into a punk rocker Mohawk, sporting a variety of tattoos, and wearing strange clothing, entered. It was quickly determined that the patient had acute appendicitis, so she was scheduled for immediate surgery. When she was completely disrobed on the operating table, the staff noticed that her pubic hair had been dyed green, and above it there was a tattoo that read, "Keep off the grass." Once the surgery was completed, the surgeon wrote a short note on the patient's dressing, which said, "Sorry, had to mow the lawn." Submitted by RN, no name
• As a new, young MD doing his residency in OB, I was quite embarrassed when performing female pelvic exams. To cover my embarrassment I had unconsciously formed a habit of whistling softly. The middle-aged lady upon whom I was performing this exam suddenly burst out laughing and further embarrassing me. I looked up from my work and sheepishly said, "I'm sorry. Was I tickling you?" She replied, "No doctor, but the song you were whistling was, "I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Wiener". Dr. wouldn't submit his name

Really Strange Stuff People Do

I am a medical transcriptionist. As such, I type all kinds of reports on all kinds of people, some of whom do some really weird shit to themselves. I type a lot of radiological reports, and quite often I type reports on little kids who swallow the notorious "foreign body" or stuff objects into orifices where stuff should not be stuffed. Now, I can understand little kids doing this: They're kids, and they don't really know any better; that's just what kids do and part of what keeps us on our toes as parents, when you see your 2-year-old walking around with peas stuck in his nose or pooping quarters, nickels, and dimes like a slot machine at the casino.

What has me stumped is when adults swallow something or stuff something where it obviously does not belong (get your mind out of the gutter, I'm talking about ears and noses; I've heard tales of people stuffing stuff THERE but never actually typed any reports about the alleged stuff stuffed there). Shouldn't an adult know better than to be poking stuff in their ears or nose or swallowing stuff they shouldn't? What on Earth would possess them to do this?

I love my job, though. It is never dull.

Once upon a time, a friend sent me an email, knowing I type these reports and that I am truly amazed (and bewildered) at some of the stuff people do to land up needing an x-ray, and this just made me laugh and laugh and laugh:

For those who truly do not know: This is fake. Contrary to popular belief, there is NOT really a "bone" in there. I was ONCE AGAIN amazed when describing this to co-workers (people in the medical field, mind you, transcribing the same shit day-in and day-out just like me) and one asked, "There's not really a bone in there? Why do they call it a 'boner'?"

After excusing myself to the restroom for about 10 minutes (where I burst into laughter so hard I was thankful I was where I was, or I might have pissed my pants), I came back and explained that while there is no bone, the structure of the penis that causes it to become erect, the corpus cavernosum, CAN become damaged when engorged with blood (this is what gives it the "bone-like" characteristic; guys, this is why you cannot think straight when you have a raging hard-on, all the blood has rushed from your brain into your peener). Explaining this to a grown woman who works in the medical field at a facility that does penile implant surgeries, a woman who has four children.... Oy. God love her, though.

Complaints Department

Welcome to the complaints department. Please take a number. A customer service representative will be available to assist you shortly.

* * * * *

Thank you for your patience....

Due to higher-than-average volume of complaints at the current time, your estimated wait time to speak to a representative is....

When Hillary Clinton is elected to the Oval Office.

Funny Fotos

The many faces of Hillary.... and George:

* * * * *

What is the difference between a snow man and a snow woman?
Snow balls.
But what about snow shit?

* * * * *

Sometimes there are things you just know you should not touch but cannot help yourself....

* * * * *

Even *MY* balls are not big enough to address this one.

* * * * *

Now you can follow directions willingly and blindly, just like the government wants:

* * * * *

Cats are people, too!

* * * * *

It has really been one of THOSE days....

* * * * *

This is just wrong on so many levels.

* * * * *

Can you guess what that is (no, not the cigarette)?