15 Messages
 
Date: Mon, 24 Nov 1997 22:42:06 
From: HumourNet
Subject: Collage 378: Collage 001


Collage 378              H u m o u r N e t              25 Nov 1997

It was a dark and stormy night. (Okay, so it was a bright sunny day.
It's cliche either way, and "dark and stormy" simply works better
with this subject matter.) I was working late at the office, moving
some files from one computer to another, deleting other files --
just generally "cleaning up."

It was then that I found it. It was a very important file. It was
"The Most Treasured File Of All."

It was a mailbox.

And, in the best tradition of (and with humble deference to) those
paragons of British humour, Monty Python, the mailbox was aptly
named, "Humour."

I flipped open the mailbox. I read through old mail messages dating
back, in some cases *years*. It was all archived, right there, right
there in *my* mailbox, right there on a United States Government(tMS)
computer.

Proof that I had been misusing government equipment for the storage
of unofficial information. Waste, fraud, and/or abuse. Oh, dear god.

Always being one to "spread the wealth" (read: waste, fraud, and
abuse), I collected together some of the better messages and sent
them out to some friends, along with a short note stating that I
was cleaning out my "Humour" mailbox, and that I hoped that they
enjoyed the material.

As it turned out, all of the messages that I gathered together on
that dark and stormy night -- all of the best selections of waste,
fraud and abuse that I could find -- were of a single theme:
Aeronautical humour.

And so was Collage Number One(tMS) born.

That was three years ago today.

A good deal of the material from Collage 001 continues to be submitted
to me pretty regularly here at HQ HumourNet -- so I decided to re-run
Collage 001 for our three-year anniversary.

You'll note that the format is pretty raw compared to the highly-
homogenized postings that you see now. There are no "SUBJ" lines, no
attributions, and there was originally no cutesie trailer with tons
of useful information about the mailing list.

There *was no* mailing list. There was just (all together now) waste,
fraud, and abuse.

Especially abuse.

Collage 001 is presented to you in its full, unedited glory -- save
that trailers are now standard on all HumourNet Collages. Even the
original opener follows this opener. I *did* put in the "standard"
HumourNet delimiters -- but I resisted the urge to change the "Delta
Air Lines" piece to read "AirTran -- Formerly ValuJet." <g>

Most of the material is from John Darling in New Jersey, one of the
Fab Five(tMS) original HumourNetters. (And the guy who, about a year
ago, responded to a Microsoft Humour Collage by saying, "If you run
another one of those, I'll unsubscribe." To which I responded, "No
problem; I'll just resubscribe you." Even FRIENDS don't skate on the
unsubscription fee around here ...)

Hope you guys find this stuff amusing ... If not, blame John. :-)

- Vince Sabio
  HumourNet Moderator

____________________________________________________________________
          Opener (above) Copyright 1997 by Vincent Sabio
  Permission is hereby granted to forward or post this "Collage";
  please observe the guidelines stated at the end of the message.
____________________________________________________________________

Hi, Folks!

Clearing out the "aero" humor.
Hope you guys find this stuff amusing ...
If not, blame John. :-)

- Vince

=================

THE PARACHUTE PARADIGM:

You are one of *two* people on a malfunctioning airplane with only one
parachute. How would you react?

Pessimist:  you refuse the parachute because you might die on the jump
anyway.

Optimist:  you refuse the parachute because people have survived
crashes just like this before.

Procrastinator: you play a game of Monopoly for the parachute.

Bureaucrat: you order them to conduct a feasibility study on parachute use
in multi-engine aircraft under code red conditions.

Lawyer:  you charge one parachute for helping them sue the airline.

Doctor:  you tell them you need to run more tests, then take the parachute
in order to make your next appointment.

Sales executive:  you sell them the parachute at top retail rates and get
the names of their friends and relatives who might like one too.

Internal Revenue Service:  you confiscate the parachute along with their
luggage, wallet, and gold fillings.

Advertiser: you strip-tease while singing that what they need is a neon
parachute with computer altimeter for only $39.99.

Engineer:  you make them another parachute out of aisle curtains and
dental floss.

Scientist:  you give them the parachute and ask them to send you a report
on how well it worked.

Mathematician:  you refuse to accept the parachute without proof that it
will work in all cases.

Philosopher:  you ask how they know the parachute actually exists.

English major:  you explicate simile and metaphor in the parachute
instructions.

Comparative Literature: you read the parachute instructions in all four
languages.

Computer Science:  you design a machine capable of operating a parachute
as well as a human being could.

Economics:  you plot a demand curve by asking them, at regular intervals,
how much they would pay for a parachute.

Psychoanalysis:  you ask them what the shape of a parachute reminds them
of.

Drama: you tie them down so they can watch you develop the character of a
person stuck on a falling plane without a parachute.

Art:  you hang the parachute on the wall and sign it.

Republican: as you jump out with the parachute, you tell them to work hard
and not expect handouts.

Democrat:  you ask them for a dollar to buy scissors so you can cut the
parachute into two equal pieces.

Libertarian:  after reminding them of their constitutional right to have a
parachute, you take it and jump out.

National Rifle Association:  you shoot them and take the parachute.

Police Bigot:  you beat them unconscious with the parachute.

Environmentalist:  you refuse to use the parachute unless it is
biodegradable.

Objectivist: your only rational and moral choice is to take the parachute,
as the free market will take care of the other person.

Branch Davidian (David Koresh):  you get inside the parachute and refuse to
come out.

Sports Fan:  you start betting on how long it will take to crash.

Auto Mechanic: as long as you are looking at the plane engine, it works
fine.

Ross Perot:  you tell them not to worry, since it won't take you long to
learn how to fix a plane.

Surgeon General:  you issue a warning that skydiving can be hazardous to
your health.

Association of Tobacco Growers: you explain very patiently that despite a
number of remarkable coincidences, studies have shown no link
whatsoever between airplane crashes and death.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

A husband suspects his wife is having an affair with a pilot, but
she keeps denying it--until finally the husband just knew when
his wife said:

	"Honey, I've told you once, I've told you twice, I've told
you niner thousand times, negative on the affair ..."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

This CFI and his Student are holding on the runway for departing cross
traffic when suddenly a deer runs out of the nearby woods, stops in the
middle of the runway, and just stands there looking at them.

Tower:	Cessna XXX cleared for take-off.

Std:	"What should I do?  What should I do?"
Inst:	"What do you think you should do?"

(think-think-think)

Std:	"Maybe if I taxi toward him it'll scare him away."
Inst:	"That's a good idea."

(Taxis toward deer, but deer is macho, and holds position.)

Tower:	Cessna XXX cleared for take-off, runway NN.

Std:	"What should I do?  What should I do?"
Inst:   "What do you think you should do?"

(think-think-think)

Std:	"Maybe I should tell the tower."
Inst:   "That's a good idea."
Std:	Cessna XXX, uh, there's a deer down here on the runway.

(long pause)

Tower:	Roger XXX, hold your position.  Deer on runawy NN cleared for
	immediate departure.

(Two seconds, and then--I presume by coincidence--the deer bolts from the
runway, and runs back into the woods.)

Tower:	Cessna XXX cleared for departure, runway NN. Caution wake
	turbulence, departing deer.

It had to be tough keeping that Cessna rolling straight for take-off.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

Santa Claus, upon trudging out to his sleigh for his annual night
freight trip around the world, was surprised to find a guy with a
shotgun standing next to his rig.

Santa asked him why he was there.  The man replied, "I'm from the
FAA, and this is an unscheduled 135 inspection. I'll ride right
seat."

Santa responded, "With all due respect, sir, I've been doing this
flight for over 700 years -- but if you insist, well, let's go."

As they both climbed into the sleigh, Santa noticed that the FAA
inspector brought his shotgun along with him, placing it in his lap,
with his finger on the trigger.  Santa asked, "What's the shotgun
for?"

To which the FAA inspector grumbled, "You're going to lose two on
takeoff..."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

A true story (from the latest edition of Australian Aviation magazine):

After a particularly lousy landing by the co-pilot of an
Australian commercial airline, that co-pilot heard the Captain announce
"Ladies and Gentlemen, XXX airlines wishes to apologise for that
rough landing provided today by our first officer".

Some months later the same crew were together and, you guessed it,
the Captain did an even worse one.
The First Officer immediately jumped on the intercom announcing
"Ladies and Gentlemen, XXX airlines wishes to apologise for that
rough landing provided today by our Captain".

The Captain immediately responded angrily, "What did you say
that for?".  The First Officer replied "Remember a couple of months
back? I owed it to you!".

"But I never keyed the mike!" responded the Captain.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

	"The Top 15 Advertising Slogans for Delta Air Lines:"

	1.  Delta: We're Amtrak with wings.

	2.  Join our frequent near-miss program.

	3.  Ask about our out-of-court settlements.

	4.  Noisy engines?  We'll turn 'em off!

	5.  Complimentary champagne in free-fall.

	6.  Enjoy the in-flight movie in the plane next to you.

	7.  The kids will love our inflatable slides.

	8.  You think it's so easy, get your own damm plane!

	9.  Delta: Our pilots are terminally ill and have nothing to lose.

	10. Delta: We might be landing on your street!

	11. Delta: Terrorists are afraid to fly with us.

	12. Bring a bathing suit.

	13. So that's what these buttons do!

	14. Delta: A real man lands where he wants to.

	15. Delta: We never make the same mistake three times.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

Purportedly real, but I didn't hear it myself ...

(Transmission as a DC-10 rolls out long after a fast landing...)

San Jose Tower:  American 751 heavy, turn right at the end if able.
                 If not able, take the Guadalupe exit off of Highway
                 101 back to the airport.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

(Heard on the radio - _really_)

   Cessna: "Jones tower, Cessna 12345, student pilot, I am out of fuel."

   Tower:  "Roger Cessna 12345, reduce airspeed to best glide!!  Do you have
            the airfield in sight?!?!!"

   Cessna: "Uh...tower, I am on the south ramp; I just want to know where
            the fuel truck is."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

(This one really happened - the FE was suspended:) On some air carrier
operations, a video camera was installed in the cockpit so that passengers
could watch the pilot land the plane.  On one flight, the FE decided to
have some fun with the passengers and purchased part of a gorilla costume;
more specifically, just the left arm.  When the plane came in to land, the
camera was turned on, and the FE had his gorilla arm on.  Since from the
position of the camera all you could see of the FE was his left arm,
whenever he went to reach up and flip (a) switch(es), all the video showed
was a hairy arm!  So the passengers were given the illusion that a monkey
(or whatever their imagination wished to conjure) was operating some of
the controls!!!

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

This story was told to me by a friend who "swore" he heard it on an IFR
flight in Germany.  It seems a "good ol' boy" American (Texas-sounding)
AF C-130 reserve pilot was in the (that day very crowded) instrument
pattern for landing at Rhein-Main. The conversation went something like
this:

Cont:  "AF1733, You are on an eight mile final for 27R.  You have a UH-1
three miles ahead of you on final; reduce speed to 130 knots."

Pilot:  "Rogo', Frankfurt.  We're bringing this big bird back to one-hundred
and thirty knots fur ya."

Cont (a few moments later):  "AF33, helicopter traffic at 90 knots now 1 1/2
miles ahead of you; reduce speed further to 110 knots."

Pilot:  "AF thirty-three reining this here bird back further to 110 knots"

Cont:  "AF33, you are three miles to touchdown, helicopter traffic now 1 mile
ahead of you; reduce speed to 90 knots"

Pilot (a little miffed): "Sir, do you know what the stall speed of this here
C-130 is?"

Cont:  "No, but if you ask your co-pilot, he can probably tell you."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

Tower: "12345, are you a Cessna?"

12345: "No....I am a male hispanic."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

Tower:  "Aircraft on final, go around, aircraft on runway."

Solo Student Pilot: "Roger"  (Continues descent.)

Tower:  "Aircraft, GO AROUND"

Student:  "Roger"  (Continues descent.)

Tower: (Screaming)  "AIRCRAFT, GO AROUND!!"

Student: "Roger"  (Continues descent.)

So, the student pilot plunks his airplane down on the numbers, taxies up to
where the twin is sitting in the middle of the runway, GOES AROUND it, and
continues on to the taxiway.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

JUSTICE PREVAILS
Finally, you'll recall
Apple once had a computer code-named
"Carl Sagan." When the Cosmos guy
heard about this, rather than being flat-
tered he demanded they change the
code name, which they did, to "BHA."
When Sagan learned that BHA stood
for Butt-Head Astronomer, he sued
Apple for libel.
 Well, Judge J. Baird of the U.S.
District Court for Central California has
thrown out the case, writing in his opin-
ion, "One does not seriously attack the
expertise of a scientist using the unde-
fined phrase 'butt-head'."
 Ah, the old undefined phrase trick.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

M     M        DDDD                          ll  ll
MM   MM        D   D                          l   l
M M M M        D   D                          l   l
M  M  M  ccc   D   D  ooo  n nn  n nn   eee   l   l
M     M c      D   D o   o nn  n nn  n e   e  l   l
M     M c      D   D o   o n   n n   n eeeee  l   l
M     M c      D   D o   o n   n n   n e      l   l
M     M  ccc   DDDD   ooo  n   n n   n  eee  lll lll

DDDD                    ll
D   D                    l
D   D                    l   aaa
D   D  ooo  u   u  ggg   l      a   ssss
D   D o   o u   u g   g  l   aa a  s
D   D o   o u   u g   g  l  a  aa   sss
D   D o   o u  uu g  gg  l  a   a      s
DDDD   ooo   uu u  gg g lll  aaa a ssss
                     g
                  ggg

 AIRCRAFT-SPACE SYSTEMS-MISSILES

     Important! Important! Important! Important!

Please fill out and mail this card within 10 days of purchase.

Thank you for purchasing a McDonnell Douglas military aircraft.  In
order to protect your new investment, please take a few moments to
fill out the warranty registration card below.  Answering the survey
questions is not required, but the information will help us to develop
new products that best meet your needs and desires.

1. _Mr.  _Mrs.  _Ms.  _Miss  _Lt.  _Gen.  _Comrade  _Classified _Other

First Name____________________Initial____Last Name_________________________

Latitude________________________Longitude__________________________________

Altitude________________________Password, Code Name, Etc.__________________

2. Which model aircraft did you purchase?

  _F-14 Tomcat   _F-15 Eagle  _F-16 Falcon  _F-117A Stealth  _Classified

3. Date of purchase:  Month___________Day___________Year____________

4. Serial Number____________________

5. Please check where this product was purchased:

_Received as Gift/Aid Package

_Catalog Showroom
_Sleazy Arms Broker
_Mail Order
_Discount Store
_Government Surplus
_Classified

6. Please check how you became aware of the McDonnell Douglas product you
have just purchased:

_Heard loud noise, looked up
_Store Display
_Espionage
_Recommended by friend/relative/ally
_Political lobbying by Manufacturer
_Was attacked by one

7.  Please check the three (3) factors which most influenced your

decision to purchase this McDonnell Douglas product:

_Style/Appearance
_Kickback/Bribe
_Recommended by salesperson
_Speed/Maneuverability
_Comfort/Convenience
_McDonnell Douglas Reputation
_Advanced Weapons Systems
_Price/Value
_Back-Room Politics
_Negative experience opposing one in combat

8. Please check the location(s) where this product will be used:

_North America
_Central/South America
_Aircraft Carrier
_Europe
_Middle East
_Africa
_Asia/Far East
_Misc. Third-World Countries
_Classified

9. Please check the products that you currently own, or intend to purchase
in the near future:

Product                     Own     Intend to purchase
Color TV
VCR
ICBM
Hunter-Killer Satellite
CD Player
Air-to-Air Missiles
Space Shuttle
Home Computer
Nuclear Weapon

10. How would you describe yourself or your organization?  Check all
that apply:

_Communist/Socialist
_Terrorist
_Crazed (Islamic)
_Crazed (Other)
_Neutral
_Democratic
_Dictatorship
_Corrupt (Latin American)
_Corrupt (Other)
_Primitive/Tribal

11. How did you pay for your McDonnell Douglas product?

_Cash
_Suitcases of Cocaine
_Oil Revenues
_Deficit Spending
_Personal Check
_Credit Card
_Ransom Money
_Traveler's Check

12. Occupation               You     Your Spouse

Homemaker
Sales/Marketing
Revolutionary
Clerical
Mercenary
Tyrant
Middle Management
Eccentric Billionaire
Defense Minister/General
Retired
Student

13. To help us understand our Customers' lifestyles, please indicate
the interests and activities in which you and your spouse enjoy
participating on a regular basis:

Activity/Interest               You     Your Spouse
Golf
Boating/Sailing
Sabotage
Running/Jogging
Propaganda/Disinformation
Destabilizing/Overthrow
Default on Loans
Gardening
Crafts
Black Market/Smuggling
Collectibles/Collections
Watching Sports on TV
Wines
Interrogation/Torture
Household Pets
Crushing Rebellions
Espionage/Reconnaissance
Fashion Clothing
Border Disputes
Mutually Assured Destruction

Thanks for taking the time to fill out this questionnaire.  Your
answers will be used in market studies that will help McDonnell
Douglas serve you better in the future -- as well as allowing you to
receive mailings and special offers from other companies, governments,
extremist groups, and mysterious consortia.

Comments or suggestions about our fighter planes?  Please write to:

McDONNELL DOUGLAS CORPORATION
Marketing Department
Military Aerospace Division
P.O. Box 800
St. Louis, MO 55500

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</collage378>

************************

Subject:     Collage 389: Stupid-Criminal Hall of Shame
Date:        3/11/1998 2:58 AM
Received:    3/11/1998 7:33 AM
From:        HumourNet
To:          The Internet's Moderated Mailing List for Humour

Collage 389              H u m o u r N e t              11 Mar 1998

<announcements>

On Friday, 6 March 1998, HumourNet was featured on "What's Funny on
the Internet Today." (It is truly amazing what people will do for
five dollars these days. Not to say that the judges at WFIT are
*corrupt*, mind you. I mean, "corrupt" is such a strong word. I
prefer to refer to them as "businessmen.")

So, be sure to check out our brief moment in the shade ...

    <http://whatsfunny.farfan.com/wf/listings/980306.htm>

After all, I'd hate to have wasted the five bucks for nothing.

</announcements>

Due to technical problems at HQ HumourNet, there is no "opener" for
today's Collage. But the subject matter really needs no opener; it's
a regular here on HumourNet, and certainly stands tall on its own.

Welcome, once again, to the "Stupid-Criminal Hall of Shame."

(BTW, the Stupid-Criminal Hall of Shame is A HumourNet Original(tm),
just like the "Unsubscription Fee," and that ever-popular on-line
game, "Guess Who Bill Murdered THIS Week?!" :-)

Starting things off is Rondal in New York City, with "The Importance
of Not Being Seen -- Take One";

Barry in Bowling Green, Kentucky, follows up with, "The Importance of
Not Being Seen -- Take Two";

John S. in Atlanta, Georgia, continues the theme with -- you guessed
it -- "The Importance of Not Being Seen -- Take Three";

and Randy Cassingham of Boulder, Colorado -- author of "This is True"
<http://www.thisistrue.com/> -- brings us a double whammy with "The
Importance of Not Being Seen -- Take Four" and "Make A Getaway In
Your Chevrolet";

Robert in Freeport, Texas, sends along the piece entitled, "I'll Take
Door Number Three for Twenty-Five-to-Life, Please";

Rick in Bakersfield, God-knows-where, submits "At Least He Recognized
His Station in Life";

Dave H. in Ames, Iowa, takes credit for [submitting -- not the crime]
"Know Your Target -- Take One";

Gerrit in Kruibeke-Bazel, Belgium, brings us "Know Your Target --
Take Two";

and Mark B in the United Kingdom closes out this edition of the
Stupid-Criminal Hall of Shame with "Hooked on Grand Larceny."

Many thanks to all our contributors!

Enjoy ...

- Vince Sabio
  HumourNet Moderator

____________________________________________________________________
          Opener (above) Copyright 1998 by Vincent Sabio
  Permission is hereby granted to forward or post this "Collage";
  please observe the guidelines stated at the end of the message.
____________________________________________________________________

SUBJ: The Importance of Not Being Seen -- Take One

NY Times, Monday, August 25, 1997 -- Alwyn Green of Jersey City, New
Jersey, was arrested late Saturday night in Flatlands, Brooklyn. The
suspected drug dealer phoned in a fake report of a police officer
needing assistance, which served only to call attention to himself
and the pound and a half of cocaine he had.

According to police, Green reported an officer in trouble on East
36th Street. Officers who answered the call quickly realized that
the report was false. When they learned that the call came from a
telephone at Ryder and Flatlands Avenues, three blocks away, Sgt.
Stephen Bruno and four other officers from the 63d Precinct headed
there, and saw Mr. Green talking on a pay phone and holding a
shopping bag.

Seeing the police approach, Mr. Green hung up the phone and walked
away, leaving the shopping bag behind, a police spokeswoman said.
When the officers looked in the bag, which held cocaine, Mr. Green
started running but was caught a block away.

Mr. Green was also holding a knapsack that contained cocaine, the
police said. The charges against him include reporting a false
incident and criminal possession of drugs with intent to sell.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: The Importance of Not Being Seen -- Take Two
Excerpted from the Daily News (Bowling Green, KY), July 1997

Army Pvt. Daniel Christian Bowden was arrested at the Fort Belvoir
Federal Credit Union in Fort Belvoir, Virginia, after a teller
thought she recognized him as the man who robbed the bank several
weeks earlier, according to an affidavit filed Tuesday. The robber
did not wear a mask.

Bowden told the teller he wanted to wire $2,900 to Texas and pushed
a pile of cash across the counter to be deposited in his account,
according to the affidavit.

The bills' serial numbers matched a list of the $4,759 taken in the
robbery, so the teller called military police.

Bowden is a military police officer who had undergone training on
handling bank robberies, law enforcement officials said. He is also
a suspect in the May 12 robbery of another northern Virginia bank."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: The Importance of Not Being Seen -- Take Three

A guy in Conyers, Georgia, apparently "stole" his own Mercedes.

He hid the car in his basement and then told the police that it had
been stolen. The goal, apparently, was insurance fraud.

However, he apparently forgot that his Benz was equipped with Lojak.

The police activated the device and tracked the car to the man's
basement. He has been arrested.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: The Importance of Not Being Seen -- Take Four
Wed, 10 Dec 1997 18:11:27 PST

MIAMI BEACH (Reuters) - Miami Beach resident Todd Boucino was
arrested by a posse of police officers after bungling an attempt at
robbing a NationsBank branch on Washington Avenue -- just down the
road from a precinct station.

According to police spokesman Al Boza, Boucino walked into the bank,
simulated carrying a concealed weapon, and told a teller "give me
all the money." The teller fled, and Boucino helped himself to the
cash.

Just outside, a passing off-duty police officer heard the commotion
and put out the alert.

Running out of the bank, Boucino frantically tried to flag down a
taxi but the driver, seeing bystanders gesturing in the background,
refused to take him.

As Boucino fled, he was "chased literally by a parade of officers
... I was one of them," Boza said. One cop having a snack in a diner
joined in.

The alleged robber managed to stop a cab in another street, but the
chasing police officers caught him as he climbed in. They recovered
the money; Boucino was charged with armed robbery.

"This was an exercise in how not to rob a bank. He got the wrong
day," Boza said.

[Editor's Note: Sounds like he got the wrong line of work. </vs>]

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: I'll Take Door Number Three for Twenty-Five-to-Life, Please

Inmate and would-be escapee Mark Conover had his choice of three
doors when he made his break for freedom.

He chose the wrong door.

Upset that a Harris County, Texas, judge had revoked his bail for
showing up late to court, Conover made a run for it. The inmate ran
down a hallway connecting two misdemeanor courts, with deputies in
hot pursuit.

He passed the door to the stairwell.

He passed the door to a courtroom.

He chose door No. 3 -- the door that led to a prisoner holdover
cell.

"He was embarrassed," Baliff Toby Devine said.

Conover, who was in court on a misdemeanor charge of driving with a
suspended license, was apprehended and now faces felony escape
charges.

Because he is a habitual criminal, Conover's short-lived quest for
freedom may prove very expensive. If convicted, his failed escape
attempt could lead to a minimum of 25 years in prison.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: At Least He Recognized His Station in Life

At the Lancaster State Prison, an inmate had an insightful means of
escape. He hid himself in a garbage dumpster knowing that in the
morning, he would be dumped into a garbage truck, would be hauled to
the local landfill, and walk away.

He WAS found at the local landfill with nearly every bone in his
body broken. He won't walk again for quite a while...

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Know Your Target -- Take One
Excerpted from the Des Moines Register, Tuesday, 18 November 1997

An employee of McDonald's Restaurant [in Des Moines] was mugged late
Sunday as he took a bucket of grease outside to dump in a container.

Donald L. Skelton, 64, was cut with a knife, but his injuries were
listed as minor.

Des Moines police said Skelton walked outside about 11:35 p.m. After
dumping the grease, he turned to walk back into the building and was
confronted by two men demanding money.

One of them carried a shotgun or rifle, and the other carried a
knife. Skelton told police he grabbed the man with the knife and
started to swing the grease bucket at him. He was able to get away,
but suffered cuts on his neck and left hand.

"No arrests were reported."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Know Your Target -- Take Two

A bunch of not-so-smart bank robbers have blown up a sort of ATM
machine in Sint-Jans-Molenbeek, a small village in Belgium near
Brussels.

There was a lot of damage done to the bank as well as to houses in
the neighbourhood, but the bank robbers didn't get a lot of money.

It seems that the machine they blew up was a dispenser of account
statements instead of a money dispenser.

[Editor's Note: Gerrit adds, "For those who can read dutch:
<http://www.brtn.be/cgi-bin/tt/brtn/hispage/100?541026>." </vs>]

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Hooked on Grand Larceny
Heard on BBC Radio 2, 2nd Jan 1998

Two men were arrested for burglary recently on videotaped evidence.

Police had raided the home of one of the men (on an unrelated
matter) and were surprised to discover that the man a video library,
featuring a tape onto which he had recorded (videotaped) the crimes
of himself and his colleague, edited crimes together and added
incidental music.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Make A Getaway In Your Chevrolet
Excerpted from "This is True," <http://www.thisistrue.com>.
Copyright 1997, Randy Cassingham; used with permission of the author.

Heather Beckwith, 18; Curtis Johnson, 19; Michael Guilbault, 19; and
Justin Lowery, 17, were driving around Raleigh, N.C., looking for
just the right place to rob, prosecutors say. Once they chose a spot,
Beckwith and Johnson hid the car in a dark spot while Guilbault and
Lowery went into the store. When they came out, they found Beckwith
and Johnson in the getaway car, in the dark, with the doors locked,
"steaming up the windows," Assistant DA Jeffrey Cruden said. They
told Guilbault and Lowery to "be patient." Once the couple "completed
the act" they unlocked the doors. By then, witnesses had a good
description of the car and the four were arrested. Johnson and
Lowery have been charged with robbery and await trial. Guilbault has
pleaded guilty to robbery; and Beckwith has pleaded guilty to being
an accessory after the fact. (Raleigh News and Observer) ...That's
not what I meant when I said "Let's hit the Quickie Mart."

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</collage389>

************************

Subject:     Collage 390: More Kiddie
Date:        3/16/1998 1:56 AM
Received:    3/16/1998 7:33 AM
From:        HumourNet
To:          The Internet's Moderated Mailing List for Humour

Collage 390              H u m o u r N e t              16 Mar 1998

Yet another opener-less Collage; sorry! It's especially sad, since
there is so much great kiddie material running around -- but it's
either no opener or no Collage.

And so ...

David in Sunnyvale, California, starts us off with, "The Home Physics
Laboratory";

Daniel in Walpole, Massachusetts brings us a suggestion for "Effective
Child Rearing";

Danielle in Raleigh, North Carolina, takes credit for "Just Another
Toy";

Loretta (a.k.a. "The Olde Broad") in Branchburg, New Jersey, sends
along the "Thanksgiving Cookbook";

J.D. in South Plainfield, New Jersey, submits "Accomplice";

and Randy M. in Herndon, Virginia (and a co-listmom on one of the
discussion lists that I run) brings us "Jack Handy -- Kids' Redux."

(Apologies for the lengths of two pieces in this Collage: "Jack
Handy -- Kids' Redux" and "Thanksgiving Cookbook." Believe it or
not, I trimmed both of them down a bit for this Collage.)

Huge thanks to our contributors! Enjoy ...

- Vince Sabio
  HumourNet Moderator

____________________________________________________________________
          Opener (above) Copyright 1998 by Vincent Sabio
  Permission is hereby granted to forward or post this "Collage";
  please observe the guidelines stated at the end of the message.
____________________________________________________________________

SUBJ: The Home Physics Laboratory

Frogs can survive the washing machine but don't do well in the
dryer. Frog bits will never come out of dried clothes. Throw them
away before they stink up the whole house.

Ditto snakes.

Mascara on cat whiskers makes really cool wavey lines on anything
onto which he tries to rub it off. They do not come off of paint.

Boys can jump off a two story high roof and break nothing but mom
will be on tranquilizers for at least a week.

If you stick a lighter into the sprinkler head in the bathroom, the
sprinklers will go off in the entire loft. It takes 5 minutes to
raise the level of water to the point where the downstairs neighbor
is also getting flooded.

Long-haired dogs hate Epilady.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Effective Child Rearing

"Make sure your children understand what 'death' means. It is then
much more effective when you threaten them with it."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Just Another Toy

A few years ago, my then 3-year-old brother visited with me during
my freshman year in college. We went over to the music building and
I played the piano for him. After I played a few songs, he jumped
down from the bench, walked all the way around the piano and looked
underneath. I asked what he was looking for and he said, "Where do
the batteries go in this thing?"

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Thanksgiving Cookbook (The Abridged Version)
by Mrs. Geraghty's Kindergarten Class

NOTE: Mrs. Geraghty will not be responsible for medical bills resulting
from use of her class's cookbook

Ivette -- Banana Pie:
You buy some bananas and crust. Then you mash them up and put them in
the pie. Then you eat it.

Russell -- Turkey
You cut the turkey up and put it in the oven for ten minutes and 300
degrees. You put gravy on it and eat it.

Geremy -- Turkey
You buy the turkey and take the paper off. Then you put it in the
refrigerator and take it back out and cut it with a knife and make
sure all the wires are out and take out the neck and heart. Then you
put it in a big pan and cook it for half an hour at 80 degrees. Then
you invite people over and eat.

Andrew -- Pizza
Buy some dough, some cheese and pepperoni. Then you cook it for 10
hours at 5 degrees. Then you eat it.

Shelby -- Applesauce
Go to the store and buy some apples, and then you squish them up.
Then you put them in a jar that says, "Applesauce." Then you eat it.

Meghan H. -- Turkey
You cut it into 16 pieces and then you leave it in the oven for 15
minutes and 4 degrees. you take it out and let it cool and then
after 5 minutes, then you eat it.

Danny -- Turkey
You put some salt on it to make it taste good. Then you put it in the
oven. Then you cook it for an hour at 5 degrees. Then you eat it.

Brandon -- Turkey
First you buy it at Fred Meyer. Then you cut it up and cook it for 15
hours at 200 degrees. Then you take it out and eat it.

Megan K -- Chicken
You put it in the oven for 25 minutes and 25 degrees and put gravy on
it and eat it.

Christa -- Cookies
Buy some dough and smash it and cut them out. Then put them in the
oven for 2 hours at 100 degrees. Then take them out and dry them
off. Then it's time to eat them.

Irene -- Turkey
Put it on a plate and put it in the oven with gravy. You cook it for
1 minute and for 100 degrees. Then it's all cooked. Your mom or dad
cuts it and then eat.

Moriah -- Turkey
First you cut the bones out. Then you put it in the oven for 10 hours
at 600 degrees. Then you put it on the table and eat it.

Jordyn -- Turkey
First you have to cut it up and put it on a plate in the oven for 9
minutes and 18 degrees. Then you dig it out of the oven and eat it.

Grace -- Turkey
First you add some salt. Then you put it in a bowl. Then you put
brown sugar on it. Then you mix it all together with a spoon and
then you add some milk and mix it again. And then you put it in a
pan. Then you put it in the oven for 15 minutes and 16 degrees. Then
you take it out of the oven and then you eat it.

Alan -- Turkey
First you shoot it and then you cut it. And then you put it in the
oven and cook it for 10 minutes and 20 degrees. You put it on plates
and then you eat it.

Jason -- Chicken Pie
Put the chicken in the pot and put the salad and cheese and mustard
and then you mix it all together. Then put chicken sauce and stir it
all around again. Then you cook it for 5 minutes at 9 degrees. Then
you eat it.

Christopher -- Pumpkin Pie
First you buy a pumpkin and smash it. Then it is all done. And you
cook it in the oven for 12 minutes and 4 degrees. Then you eat it.

Ashley -- Chicken
Put it in the oven. Then cut it up. Then I eat it.

Jennie -- Corn
My mom buys it. Then you throw it. Then you cook it. Then you eat it.

Jordan -- Cranberry Pie
Put cranberry juice in it. Then you put berries in it. Then you put
dough in it. Then you bake it. Then you eat it.

Adam -- Pumpkin Pie
First you put pumpkin seeds in it. Put it in a pan and bake it at 5
degrees for 6 minutes. Then take it out and eat it.

Jarryd -- Deer Jerky
Put it in the oven overnight at 20 degrees. Then you go hunting and
bring it with you. Then you eat it.

[Editor's Note: "Deer Jerky"? </vs>]

Isabelle -- Spaghetti
Put those red things in it. Then put the spaghetti in it. Then cook
it in the oven for 2 minutes at 8 degrees.

Nicholas -- White and Brown Pudding
First you read the wrapper. Get a piece of water. Stir. Then you eat
it.

Lauren -- Turkey
First you find a turkey and kill it. Cut it open. Put it in a pan.
Pour milk in the pan. Put a little chicken with it. Put salsa on it.
Take out of pan. Put it on the board. Cut into little pieces. Put on
a rack. Put in the oven for 7 minutes at 10 degrees. Take out of the
oven and put eensy weensy bit of sugar on it. Put a little more
salsa on it. Then you eat it.

Tommy -- Pumpkin
Cook the pumpkin. Then get ready to eat the pumpkin

Wai -- Pumpkin Pie
Get a pumpkin. Cook it. Eat it.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Accomplice

A man walking down the street noticed a small boy trying to reach
the doorbell of a house. Even when he jumped up, he couldn't quite
reach it. The man decided to help the boy, walked up on to the porch
and pushed the doorbell.

He looked down at the boy, smiled and asked, "What now?"

The boy answered, "We'd better run like hell!"

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Jack Handy -- Kids' Redux  (The Expurgated Version)

Excerpted rom an actual newspaper contest, where entrants aged 4 to
15 were asked to imitate "Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy" ...

My young brother asked me what happens after we die. I told him we
get buried under a bunch of dirt and worms eat our bodies. I guess I
should have told him the truth--that most of us go to Hell and burn
eternally--but I didn't want to upset him. Age 10

When I go to heaven, I want to see my grandpa again. But he better
have lost the nose hair and the old-man smell. Age 5

I don't know about you, but I enjoy watching paint dry. I imagine
that the wet paint is a big freshwater lake that is the only source
of water for some tiny cities by the lake. As the lake gets drier,
the population gets more desperate, and sometimes there are water
riots. Once there was a big fire and everyone died. Age 13

I like to go down to the dog pound and pretend that I've found my
dog. Then I tell them to kill it anyway because I already gave away
all of his stuff. Dog people sure don't have a sense of humor. Age
14

I believe you should live each day as if it is your last, which is
why I don't have any clean laundry because, come on, who wants to
wash clothes on the last day of their life? Age 15

Whenever I start getting sad about where I am in my life, I think
about the last words of my favorite uncle: "A truck!" Age 15

It sure would be nice if we got a day off for the president's
birthday, like they do for the queen. Of course, then we would have
a lot of people voting for a candidate born on July 3 or December
26, just for the long weekends. Age 8

As you make your way through this hectic world of ours, set aside a
few minutes each day. At the end of the year, you'll have a couple
of days saved up. Age 7

Democracy is a beautiful thing, except for that part about letting
just any old yokel vote. Age 10

Home is where the house is. Age 6

Often, when I am reading a good book, I stop and thank my teacher.
That is, I used to, until she got an unlisted number. Age 15

It would be terrible if the Red Cross Bloodmobile got into an
accident. No, wait. That would be good because if anyone needed it,
the blood would be right there. Age 5

The people who think Tiny Tim is strange are the same ones who think
it odd that I drive without pants. Age 15

I bet living in a nudist colony takes all the fun out of Halloween.
Age 13

For centuries, people thought the moon was made of green cheese.
Then the astronauts found that the moon is really a big hard rock.
That's what happens to cheese when you leave it out. Age 6

The only stupid question is the one that is never asked, except
maybe "Don't you think it is about time you audited my return?" or
"Isn't is morally wrong to give me a warning when, in fact, I was
speeding?" Age 15

Once, I wept for I had no shoes. Then I came upon a man who had no
feet. So I took his shoes. I mean, it's not like he really needed
them, right? Age 15

If we could just get everyone to close their eyes and visualize
world peace for an hour, imagine how serene and quiet it would be
until the looting started. Age 15

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</collage390>


************************

Subject:     Collage 391: The Last Sacrament
Date:        3/23/1998 3:01 AM
Received:    3/23/1998 7:32 AM
From:        HumourNet
To:          The Internet's Moderated Mailing List for Humour

Collage 391              H u m o u r N e t              23 Mar 1998

<announcements>

First of all, my apologies for the truncated subject line on
Collage 390; it is proof that there is no finite number of idiot
checks that I can write into my software that will ever effectively
solve The Real Problem -- the one between my keyboard and my chair.

*sigh*

The subject line should have read, "More Kiddie Adventures."

Speaking of Collage 390, the piece entitled, "Jack Handy -- Kids'
Redux" is, apparently, ACTUALLY from the Washington Post's "Style
Invitational." (The entry has been corrected in the archives.)

Many thanks to the 12,592 readers who pointed that out to me. I'd
list all your names, except that Sprint and MCI would have to upgrade
their peering routers at MAE-East and MAE-West to handle the added
load. (Seriously, though, I *do* appreciate everyone who writes in
to let me know when a credit has been missed or attributed
incorrectly. I *especially* appreciate those people who realize that
I'm not the one stripping off the credits.)

What amuses me when I receive correspondence on subjects like this
(and just about any other subject, really) is the way that some
subscribers will attempt to come up with something cute just so that
I'll quote them in an opener. This one from Steve in Lindenhurst, New
York (regarding the Style Invitational piece) really had me LOL:

    [...] The first quotation (about going to hell), BTW, was
    originally father to son, rather than brother to brother.

    (Wish I could think of something funny to say so you could
    quote me in the next opener.)

    Regards,
    Steve

Trust me, Steve -- after reading 12,512 copies of "You shouldn't post
copyrighted material without proper credit" (the remaining 80 or so
were less critical of my lack of clairvoyance), THAT was funny.

</announcements>

Speaking of people who find creative methods of getting their
comments posted in Collage openers, Shane in Basel, Switzerland, had
this comment to make in response to my statement in Collage 390 that
I did not have time to write up an opener:

    Hey Vince:

    ...in that case go with the opener -- I love your collages
    and the main reason is because of your openers. :-)

    Jokes are jokes but original humour kicks a**.

    Keep up the good work,
    Shane

Shane is correct: I can't do too many serial Collages without openers,
or you might as well just go subscribe to One Of Those OTHER Humour
Lists (yes, they're out there, but none of THEM has been approved by
the IETF, the IANA, the ASPCA, the NAACP, and the RMXRA, have they?),
and we can't have *that* happening, right? After all, it'd foil my
plans for world domination.

So, I have enlisted the services of a few Guest Moderators from whom
we might be hearing from time to time. (Sorry, this is not a
solicitation, unless you have already paid your Guest Moderator
Application Fee(tm) and filled out the necessary paperwork -- which
is available at any government office.) (I did say *any* government
office.)

One of those in the lineup is Pastor Rus, also known as the Official
HumourNet List Chaplain. Rus has promised to put together a series of
"Sunday Morning Bloopers" for an upcoming God Collage. However, he's
been promising this since last October. With this opener, I hope to
finally guilt (scare?) him into sitting down and making good on that
promise.

In the meantime, you're stuck with me -- and *my* version of the
Sunday Morning Bloopers. This is a little long, but should make
amends for any cases of "Opener Neglect" out there.

"The Last Sacrament"
By Vince Sabio
HumourNet Communications, Ltd.
<http://www.humournet.com/HumourNet/>

For this, we rewind the Great Video of Life to the year 1972 ...

That was the year in which I received my Confirmation. Even then, at
the tender age of ten, the roots of my agnosticism were taking hold,
and my participation in the Confirmation ritual was more to satisfy
my parents than to receive a another sacrament. After all, I had
already received Last Rites (within 24 hours of birth -- hence the
justification for my brash and irreverent approach to life), so
anything else was just backfill.

I really wasn't the most devout Confirmation candidate. On a test
just prior to the Great Ritual, I'd stated the seven sacraments as
"baptism, circumcision, communion, confirmation, marriage, divorce,
and last rites." (Had I been a little smarter, I'd have realized that
"marriage" and "last rites" were the same thing.)

It's a wonder that The Nuns didn't chain me to a wall in The Basement.
I've no doubt that they had OTHER children chained up down there; I
could often hear their screams as I walked down the hall to my Sunday
School classroom. I think that The Nuns simply feared me, referred to
me as "Lucifer" behind closed doors, and hoped that I would just go
away forever once I received Confirmation.

They were correct about the "going away" part. Moreover, I'd already
vetted this plan with my parents; their response was, "Just complete
your Confirmation; you can do whatever you like [i.e., stop attending
church] after that." For all I know, they'd even warned The Nuns to
just "sit tight until after Confirmation, and then you won't have to
worry about upgrading the shackles in The Basement to hold him."

And so, we arrived at The Big Day. The Confirmation Mass, itself, was
being held in the "Parish Hall." Now, this warrants some description:
Imagine a huge gymnasium-looking hall with cinderblock walls, row
upon row of folding chairs on the floor, an impressive array of pull-
out bleachers along the rear wall, and a two-story-high dead guy
nailed to the front of the hall. (Do they do this just to frighten
the kids? I'll have them know that it works.)

The Plan(tm) was that the Confirmees would fill the chairs on the
floor -- girls in the group on the left, boys in the group on the
right -- and the parents would lend their approval from the bleachers.

So far, so good. My parents left me in the capable hands of The Nuns
-- assuming that I was, at that point, committed to going through with
this -- and headed down to the Parish Hall to be seated with the other
proud parents.

Meanwhile, The Nuns had come up with a Diabolical Plan: They would
select two Confirmees -- a boy and a girl -- to go up to the front
of the Parish (on cue) and read from the Bible.

For this, they needed two children who were sufficiently, um,
"outspoken" that they wouldn't choke when faced with 500 (I kid you
not) other children and roughly 1000 parents.

I was standing in the lineup, minding my own business and awaiting my
fate, when I heard my name called ... "Vincent Sabio? Please step
forward."

"Uh-oh. I'm *really* in trouble now."

The Nuns explained their Diabolical Plan to me and the girl that
they selected: At their cue, we were to stand up, walk to the
*outside* of our rows (which meant that she and I would be walking
in opposite directions), and then go up front to join His Holiness,
The Guy With The Pointy Hat (a.k.a. the Bishop), who will introduce
us. At that point, we will flip to the passages marked for us, each
read her or his passage (girls before boys), and then return to our
seats.

Sounded simple enough. Heck, I was just relieved that I wasn't headed
for The Basement.

And so 500 children filed down to the Parish Hall to be Confirmed.

As it turned out, I was seated near the center aisle, which meant that
I would have to squeeze past most of the row of boys to my right when
it came time for my fifteen minutes of Sacramental Fame.

I waited. The Guy With The Pointy Hat read from the Bible. He made
strange sounds. He sat. He stood. I waited. Still no cue from The
Nuns. He spoke some more. He read some more. Still I waited. The hours
passed. Days passed. Leaves fell from trees.

And finally, it came -- the cue from The Nuns! It's *SSSSSHOWTIME*.

We now cut to the ParentCam, and view this through the eyes of two
people who know that their young son is already showing signs of,
well, not exactly growing up to be the most pious of citizens. This
is difficult for your typical Italian family to grasp, mind you --
but, in this case, they were simply happy that I was actually going
through with the Confirmation.

Or was I?

Suddenly, in the middle of the Mass, they saw me stand up. Step by
agonizing step, I worked my way down the row toward ... what was that
at the end of the row ... ?

THE EXIT DOORS!

Their first thought was, "Omigosh, he's LEAVING!" How will we ever
explain this? Worse still, what will we say when the other parents
start pointing and saying, "Hey, whose kid is THAT?" (My parents,
being pretty quick, probably would have joined in: "Can you believe
it? That kid just got up and walked out! I'll bet his parents are
mortified....")

I finally made my way to the end of the row. But, rather than continue
to the right and through the exit doors, I did something even worse --
I turned and walked to the front of the Parish Hall ...

"OMIGOD, HE'S NOT SIMPLY WALKING OUT -- HE'S GOING TO *ANNOUNCE* THAT
HE'S LEAVING!"

My parents aged a good deal that day. In fact, I'm just lucky that
there were no precedents in the courts at that time for parents suing
their own children; I'd *still* be working off the judgment against
me.

They finally realized, when The Guy With The Pointy Hat introduced
the two of us (at that point, they'd noticed that there was a girl
involved in this, too), that this was a *planned* event. I've no
doubt that there was some residual concern as to exactly WHAT was
going to come from my mouth when I read my passage, though.

At which point, we cut back to me ...

The Nuns had given us each a slip of paper with the passage from the
Bible that we were to read. It was written in Standard Biblical
Hieroglyphics -- you know, "Luke 5:33." Except that I had no *clue*
what "Luke 5:33" meant. I did, however, recall The Nuns telling us
that our sections would be marked in The Bible.

Well, that should be simple enough ... the girl's section is marked,
and my section is marked. Since she just read her passage, my section
must be the one that isn't currently open.

I looked at The Bible.

It was *huge*. It was high -- I had to stand on my toes just to see
it. I looked closely for something resembling a marker ...

There were approximately 237 markers in The Bible that day. It looked
as if they had marked everything with a page number.

This was ridiculous. After all, it's not like The Guy With The Pointy
Hat couldn't find his place if he needed to; he must read these things
all the time. I, in contrast, was a virtual newbie to this whole Bible
reading thing.

I was completely at a loss. But no bother -- one good quote from the
Bible is as rewarding as any other, right?

I picked a marker at random. Casually flipping to it, I decided that
I would read a few paragraphs and then act like I was finished --
after all, by that point, I might very well be.

I started reading a passage. For all I knew, it might have been
Revelation. In retrospect, I could only hope that it was the passage
that The Guy With The Pointy Hat was planning to read next -- it would
have served him right for presenting me with such a confusing task.

I finished reading, thanked everyone for their attention (after all,
they were clapping in that "aren't they just *adorable*?" manner that
is characteristic of parents at events such as these) and returned to
my seat.

Later in the service, we were called, row by row, to the front of the
Hall to be Confirmed. Kneeling before the two-story-high person who
was nailed to the wall, The Guy With The Pointy Hat stepped before
each of us in turn and asked us a specific question in some foreign
language (most likely Latin, though it could just as easily have been
French or German or Fortran for all I knew), and awaited the standard
response that The Nuns had drilled into each of us.

Except that, when my turn came, I looked up at The Guy With The Pointy
Hat, and realized that he probably hadn't liked my Biblical selection
very much -- he looked as if he was going to damn me to burn in Hell
for an eternity right there in front of 500 other kids.

My mind went immediately and totally blank; I forgot The Standard
Reply that we had rehearsed for weeks in preparation for our moments
of passage.

I quickly searched my memory for the proper phrase, but it was
hopeless. I looked up at His Holiness and managed to squeak out,
"Yes, sir." What the heck -- he'd asked me a question, I might as
well agree to whatever it was.

He repeated something back to me in that same foreign language. It
probably was a curse or an excommunication of some sort. I didn't
care. I returned to my seat, and quietly vowed to never set foot
inside a church ever again. I've no doubt that The Nuns would have
been relieved if they could have heard it; they'd probably have asked
for it in writing.

When the service was over, I found my parents and left as quickly as
I could. They wanted to introduce me to everyone: "Yes, this is the
boy that they selected to read from the Bible" and all that. I wanted
none of it; I was no longer interested in fame.

I just wanted out of there before The Nuns changed their minds about
those shackles in The Basement ...

Copyright 1998 by Vincent Sabio, HumourNet Communications Ltd.
All Rights Reserved; permission is hereby granted to forward or post
"Hyperbolic God," provided that the by-line (above) and this copyright
statement are included.

(Well, the spectre of another one of THOSE stories should get Pastor
Rus off his butt and writing his own opener. <g>)

And so we come to Collage 391, dedicated to -- you guessed it --
religious humour ...

Tanya in Redwood City, California, starts us off with "Those Damned
Catholics";

Yvonne in Arlington, Virginia, sends a triple-header: "When Life
Begins," "Passing Judgment," and "Perspective";

Karen P. in Colorado Springs, Colorado, brings us "Breaking With
Tradition";

Lenore in Virginia Beach, Virginia, contributes "The Verge";

John W. in Blacksburg, Virginia, takes credit for his "Messages From
God";

Lorraine in Katy, Texas, sends along the "The Survival Guide To
Boring Sermons" (Rus, you might notice several tricks in there that
your parishioners are using);

and Jeff R. in London, U.K., submits the piece, "At Least He Got
Some Nice Presents."

As always, a huge thanks to our contributors! (One of these days,
I'm going to leave that out, just to see if everyone is paying
attention. ;-)

Go in peace ...

- Vince Sabio
  HumourNet Moderator

____________________________________________________________________
          Opener (above) Copyright 1998 by Vincent Sabio
  Permission is hereby granted to forward or post this "Collage";
  please observe the guidelines stated at the end of the message.
____________________________________________________________________

SUBJ: Those Damned Catholics

A man died and went up to Heaven. He was met at the Pearly Gates by
St. Peter himself, who took the man by his hand and led him inside.
They started walking down hallways in order to reach their
destination -- the place where the man would enjoy himself until
eternity.

They walked through one hallway, and the man heard singing and
clapping and many loud exclamations of "Hallelujah!" He looked
inquiringly at St. Peter, who said "The Baptists."

In another hallway, he heard the voices of many people, raised in
joyful song, accompanied by a booming organ. St. Peter told him,
"The Lutherans."

They passed through many hallways and many religions. They heard the
chants of the Moslems and the Hindus, the silence of the Buddhists,
and singing and praying from many other sects and religions.

Finally, they reached a large wooden door. St. Peter put a finger to
his lips and whispered, "At this point, you must be deathly quiet.
Please take off your shoes and tiptoe noiselessly." The two tiptoed
through a silent hallway. After passing through another large wooden
door, St. Peter motioned that they could once again talk in normal
tones, and they both put their shoes back on.

"What was _that_?" inquired the man.

"Damned Catholics," said St. Peter. "They think they're the only ones
up here."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: When Life Begins

A minister, a priest and a rabbi were discussing when life begins.
"Those of my faith," said the minister, "believe that life starts
when the heart starts to beat."

"We take a bit of a different view," said the priest, "in that we
believe life starts at the moment of conception."

"Well," said the rabbi, "it is _our_ belief that life starts when
the kids move out and the dog dies."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Passing Judgment

A man who smelled like a distillery flopped on a subway seat next to
a priest. The man's tie was stained, his collar was plastered with
red lipstick, and a half-empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his
torn coat pocket. He opened his newspaper and began reading. After a
few minutes the disheveled guy turned to the priest and asked,
"Shay, Father, what caushes arthritish?"

"Mister, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked
women, too much alcohol and a contempt for your fellow man."

"Well, I'll be damned," the drunk muttered, returning to his paper.

Having second thoughts about his abrupt manner, the priest nudged
the drunk and apologized. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to come on
so strong. How long have you had arthritis?"

"Oh, I don't have it, Father. I was jusht reading here that the Pope
does."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Perspective

This couple had a really terrible little kid, Johnny. He was always
fighting and cussing and getting in trouble at school. Finally he
was expelled from public school, so the parents decided to try
private school. They enrolled him in a private boys' school that was
supposed to be wonderful.

Within a week, little Johnny is expelled. The father is so upset he
says, "That does it he's going to military school -- they should be
able to discipline him there!"

Within a week at military school, Johnny is expelled once more.

The only thing left to try is parochial school. The parents take him
to the Catholic school and hope for the best. A week goes by and
there are no problems. The parents are pleased but still wary.
Another week goes by and still no trouble. The parents are happy but
still waiting for the inevitable. More time passes and Johnny gets a
report card on which the nuns have given him good marks for his
behavior.

Johnny's parents are floored. They call him into the room to see
what caused this change. "Do you really like Catholic school?" asks
the mother.

"No," replies little Johnny.

"Then what has caused this turnaround in your behavior?" inquires
his father.

"Well," says Johnny, "on the first day they lined us up and took us
into a big room. Inside, there was a man nailed to a cross. I knew I
had better behave because these guys meant business!"

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Breaking With Tradition

A young couple met with their pastor to set a date for their wedding.
When he asked whether they preferred a contemporary or a traditional
service, they opted for the contemporary version.

On the big day, a major storm forced the groom to take an alternate
route to the church. The streets were flooded, so he rolled up his
pants legs to keep his trousers dry. When he finally reached the
church, his best man rushed him into the sanctuary and up to the
altar, just as the ceremony was starting.

The pastor glanced over at the groom. "Pull down your pants, son,"
whispered the pastor.

The groom was shocked. "Uh, Reverend, I think I've changed my mind,"
he whispered back, "I'd rather have the traditional service."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: The Verge

A Sunday school teacher asked her class, "What was Jesus's mother's
name?"

One child answered "Mary."

The teacher then asked, "Who knows what Jesus's father's name was?"

A little kid said "The Verge."

Confused, the teacher asked, "Where did you get that?"

The kid said, "Well, you know they are always talking about The
Verge 'n' Mary."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Messages From God

On my way to work I saw a local Baptist Church marquee that read:
"May every new year find you a better man."

My current pastor claims to have seen the following on Mothers' Day:
"Have a nice day, all you mothers."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: The Survival Guide to Boring Sermons

Pass a note to the organist asking whether he/she plays requests.

See if a yawn really is contagious.

Slap your neighbor. See if he turns the other cheek. If not, raise
your hand and tell the priest/preacher.

Devise ways of climbing into the balcony without using the stairs.

Listen for your preacher to use a word beginning with 'A' then 'B
and so on through the alphabet.

Sit in the back row and roll a handful of marbles under the pews
ahead of you. After the service, credit yourself with 10 points for
every marble that made it to the front.

Using church notice sheets or newcomers cards for raw materials,
design, test and modify a collection of paper airplanes..

Start from the back of the church and try to crawl all the way to
the front, under the pews, without being noticed..

Raise your hand and ask for permission to go to the lavatory.

Chew gum; if the sermon goes on for more than 15 minutes, start
blowing bubbles.

Try to indicate to the minister that his fly is undone.

By unobtrusively drawing your arms up into your sleeves, turn your
shirt around backwards..

Wiggle your ears so that the people behind you will notice.

Practice smiling insincerely.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: At Least He Got Some Nice Presents

Did you hear the one about the dyslexic devil worshipper?
He sold his soul to Santa.

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</collage391>


************************

Subject:     Collage 392: The Day of the Joker
Date:        4/1/1998 1:28 AM
Received:    4/1/1998 7:34 AM
From:        HumourNet
To:          The Internet's Moderated Mailing List for Humour

Collage 392              H u m o u r N e t              01 Apr 1998

<announcements>

Due to the rising cost of e-mail and the suspicious lack of unsubs
recently, I am considering increasing the unsubscription fee from
US$5.00 to US$35.00.

Either that, or I might have John Mozena guest moderate again; the
unsubscription fees from his last round in the driver's seat nearly
covered the entire R&D costs for HumourNet's geosynchronous
communications satellite program.

I'm still tossed up whether it'll be a fee increase or John Mozena.

Remember, HumourNet is still -- and will always be -- entirely free
to *join*, and there are no fees whatsoever for remaining on the
list. The only time that you will ever encounter *ANY* fees
whatsoever from this list is if you decide to unsubscribe.

If you are unfamiliar with the unsubscription fee, please refer to
the Welcome message you received when you joined the list. If you
lost your Welcome message, then send the command "get humournet hello"
(without the quotes) to the list server: <lyris&#64;lyris.net>. A new
Welcome message will be returned to you. (There is a $0.50 fee for
this service.)

</announcements>

Meanwhile, many of you are looking at the dateline on this Collage,
and recalling the joke that I played on the list one year ago today,
in Collage 345. Well, you can rest assured that I would never dream
of doing something like that a second time -- after all, that's just
what you'd be *expecting* me to do.

No, I've decided to mess with a *different* mailing list of mine
this year ... <grin>

In the meantime, we have some great practical-joke ideas from the
audience:

Paul in Champlin, Minnesota, starts this one off with "Malpractice";

Mark B., purportedly an educator in the United Kingdom <g>, brings
us a pedagogical double header with "We'd Get Sued For This Today"
and "We'd Get Sued, Take 2";

Pastor Rus, HumourNet's very own Official List Chaplain, reveals his
Dark Side with "We'd Get Sued, Take 3";

Shawn King, moderator of our high-successful-until-the-lawsuits-start
"sister list," Bawdy.Net, brings us another double header with "We'd
Get Sued, Take 4" and "Fun With The Intellectual Proletariat";

JD in NJ -- one of the "Fab Five" original HumourNetters, and an all-
around great guy -- takes credit for contributing some "Good, Clean
Fun";

Jeff in San Jose, California, provides instructions for "Becoming a
Homicide Victim";

Mark D. in London, England, sends along "Call Us If You Don't Receive
This Message";

Matt in Hollywood, Florida, accepts kudos for the first installment
of "We'd Get Sued For These, Too";

and Randy Cassingham, author of "This is True" (see your Welcome
message for subscription instructions), brings us an piece that has
become an annual event, despite making its first appearance on
HumourNet today: "The Annual Internet Cleaning."

It's another "Practical Jokes" Collage, with the usual thanks going
out to our resident practical jokers.

Enjoy! And watch out for those jokes ...

- Vince Sabio
  HumourNet Moderator

____________________________________________________________________
          Opener (above) Copyright 1998 by Vincent Sabio
  Permission is hereby granted to forward or post this "Collage";
  please observe the guidelines stated at the end of the message.
____________________________________________________________________

SUBJ: Malpractice

Here's a practical joke someone pulled here at the University of
Minnesota. "Boynton" is the campus health service ...

    "Well I put rubber cement on my chest to affix coffee grounds
    for the appearance of chest hair. And I am just wondering if
    you know of a solvent to get it off? I thought I could just
    rub it -- but it's not working."

    -- Norman, to the Boynton Health Nurse over the phone

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: We'd Get Sued For This Today
Apparently by C. Hargrave

Thought I would share the (maybe true) tale from my head. A few
years ago, [they] lined up the whole school by the medical room for
an "injection." The children were then sent into the room one by
one. They argued and were not at all happy about going in. Phone
calls to parents were not allowed.  Once in the room, the children
saw a board with a note, reading:

"Please scream loudly! April Fool!"

They would then exit by the other door and listen to the others
trying to get out of going in!

----------[ H U M O U R N E T ]----------

SUBJ: We'd Get Sued, Take 2

We also sent one to ask for 3m of fallopian tubing from the science
prep room. After a short while he came back looking really pleased
with a length of plastic piping that they had given him.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: We'd Get Sued, Take 3

For Wedding Receptions:

Collect a lot of keys from the wedding party/friends WITHOUT the
bride and groom's knowledge. Pass them out to as many women as
possible (swearing them to secrecy). During your speech, announce
the "The bride realizes that the groom has had a lot of girlfriends
over the years. She would appreciate it if any of them who have keys
to his place could please return them."

This is the cue for all the women to bring their keys to the wedding
party table. Try to get a couple of pregnant women in the group and
maybe somebody's grandma.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: We'd Get Sued, Take 4

Possibly by Kevin Klop

I was part of an OS Enhancements group that was building a multi-CPU
testing system. A large number of 300-meg removable disk pack drives
were shared between two CPUs.

As part of our work, we did what are commonly called "Thrash Tests"
wherein you seek back and forth between the outermost cylinder and
the innermost cylinder.

Remember that these are VERY quick drives, and that the heads build
up an hellacious amount of momentum.

There was also a night operator that was:

  a) Universally disliked

  b) Knew almost nothing about computers except how to follow a
     checklist.

We set up a timed job to run at midnight, just about the time this
operator would be starting his backups.

Along comes midnight, and suddenly all the disk drives in the
computer room start thrashing angrily "Chugachugachugachuga," and
rocking back and forth. Eventually they started walking themselves
along the floor.

At the same time, on the operator's console, the screen blanks, and
the following words appear, centered, on the display:

                       "I'm coming to get you."

The operator quit the next day.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Fun With The Intellectual Proletariat

Several years ago, on April Fool's Day, one of the local radio
stations announced that the Shuttle had landed in Vancouver.

[Editor's Note: One of the well-known alternate landing sites for
the Shuttle outside the U.S. ;-) </vs>]

About 1000 people showed up.

It gets better: One guy got [angry] at the radio station because
he got fired!

He told his boss he was going out to the airport to see the Shuttle.

His boss, not exactly a rocket scientist himself, said, "I don't
care if it's landing or not. You go, you're fired." The [idiot] boss
didn't even get the joke!

I was driving somewhere that morning and I heard the "report" of the
Shuttle having to make an emergency landing. I thought, "Ha ha. Very
funny. No one's stupid enough to fall for that."

Sadly, I was mistaken by about a thousand.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Good, Clean Fun

Want to have some fun in the dorm shower? Try this:

Enter the stall. Shower for about 3 minutes, then scream really
loudly, exclaiming, "Hey! I didn't know I had one of *those*!"

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Becoming a Homicide Victim

Here's a good trick: Get a job as a judge at the Olympics. Then, if
some guy sets a world record, pretend that you didn't see it and say,
"Okay, is everybody ready to start now?"

[Editor's Note: The tricky part is that "judge at the Olympics"
step. Once you've got that, I'll bet that the rest of the joke is
pretty easy. </vs>]

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Call Us If You Don't Receive This Message

A friend of mine has a nice little scam which he pulls each year on
the 1st April.

He quite often sends people jokes and the like in the form of two
messages -- the first is a question and the second is the answer.
Well, often the answer arrives before the question, so he puts some
text in the answer to tell the readers to not open the message until
they get the question.

On April 1 each year he sends out a message with the subject "Joke
answer: Do not open until you have read the question!" but never
actually sends out the question. Further, he requests a receipt
which is sent automatically when they open the message. This
provides him with a rather neat way of keeping score of how wise
people are. The ones who open it straight away are the savvy ones --
they know that it's a scam and do not wait. The ones who wait a few
days before opening it tend to be a little more embarrassed. But you
would be surprised to hear of the number of people who mail him
weeks later, irately demanding that he send the question again since
they do not want to open the answer until they get the question!

[Editor's Note: I'm not sure if this is a test of savvy or
integrity. ;-) Amusing, nonetheless ... </vs>]

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: We'd Get Sued For These, Too

Here's a few practical jokes we pulled at my college (Clearwater
Christian College, in Clearwater, Florida) ...

1) Jim came up with the idea of unscrewing the shower heads and
filling them with the contents of a packet of hot chocolate. (Also
works well with coffee and/or tea bags.)

2) Right before room inspections, Jim also discovered that if
he took an EMPTY (large and preferably Lay's) bag of potato chips,
filled it with shaving cream, slid the open end under the victim's
door, then stomped hard on the other end, pieces of chips and
shaving cream would cover everything. [If anyone attempts to repeat
this, place one foot on the back end of the bag BEFORE you stomp;
otherwise you may blow everything all over yourself, the hall,
etc...]

3) My personal favorite was the old Saran-Wrap the commode. Would do
that 2 or 3 days in a row. After every one was aware what was going
on, and was checking for saran wrap, I'd quit. All were looking for
Saran Wrap, and _nothing_ else. So then, my prank begins: I would
take 2 McDonald's ketchup (and/or mustard, mayo, Taco Bell sauce,
etc...) packages and carefully cut off ONE corner of each so that
there was barely a pinhole-sized opening [slightly larger opening
required with lumpy taco and relish sauces]. Then I'd put one of
these packages under each of the front "feet" of the toilet seats,
hole pointing BACK and IN. Amazingly foul language could be elicited
from "Christian" college students 8^)

[Editor's Note: Matt actually has quite a collection of these; I'll
save the rest for future "Practical Jokes" Collages. Stay tuned!
</vs>]

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Annual Internet Cleaning

It's that time again!

As many of you know, each year the Internet must be shut down for 24
hours in order to allow us to clean it. The cleaning process, which
eliminates dead email and inactive ftp, www and gopher sites, allows
for a better working and faster Internet.

This year, the cleaning process will take place from 12:01 a.m.. GMT
on April 1 until 12:01 a.m. GMT on April 2 (the time least likely to
interfere with ongoing work). During that 24-hour period, five
powerful Internet search engines situated around the world will
search the Internet and delete any data that they find.

In order to protect your valuable data from deletion we ask that you
do the following:

    1. Disconnect all terminals and local area networks from
    their Internet connections.

    2. Shut down all Internet servers, or disconnect them from
    the Internet.

    3. Disconnect all disks and hard drives from any connections
    to the Internet.

    4. Refrain from connecting any computer to the Internet in
    any way.

We understand the inconvenience that this may cause some Internet
users, and we apologize. However, we are certain that any
inconveniences will be more than made up for by the increased speed
and efficiency of the Internet, once it has been cleared of
electronic flotsam and jetsam.

We thank you for your cooperation.

Kim Dereksen
Network Information Center
Network Solutions, Inc.
Reston, Virginia
<http://www.internic.net/>

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</collage392>


************************

Subject:     Collage 393: The Pastor Speaks
Date:        4/12/1998 3:03 PM
Received:    4/12/1998 4:02 PM
From:        HumourNet
To:          The Internet's Moderated Mailing List for Humour

Collage 393              H u m o u r N e t              12 Apr 1998

<announcements>

First, an apology for Collage 392: When I set about creating an April
Fools Day Collage, I checked my "practical jokes" files, and found
an entire Collage's worth of pretty good April Fools-quality humour
-- already formatted and everything!

Little did I realize that I'd simply forgotten to delete the raw
file from LAST YEAR'S April Fools Collage. *sigh* A good number of
you caught me on that one right away. I wish I could say that it was
just another April Fools Joke -- but it was actually just the
moderator fooling himself. At least I fooled *someone* this year.

Well, I actually fooled quite a number of people ... It never fails
to amaze me how many long-time subscribers can be routinely taken in
by the "unsubscription fee" ruse. This year's Unsubscription Fee
Collage (toward the end of the year) promises to be a real winner.

However, this opener is more of a follow-up to Collage 391 than 392.
You might recall my attempt in Collage 391 to guilt Pastor Rus,
HumourNet's Official List Chaplain, into finally writing his opener
for the list.

Well, it worked. I usually don't run "God Collages" (i.e., religious
humour) nearly back to back, but since Rus has been such a commendable
chaplain, I'm somewhat compelled (euphemism for "contractually
obligated") to run his material right away. Plus, depending upon your
religious persuasion, it's either Passover or Easter this weekend.
(It's neither for me, as I'm not easily persuaded. ;-)

A quick introduction for Rus: Along with being a full-time pastor for
the Gananda Community Church right outside Rochester, New York, Rus is
also my moderator for the net.humour.religion newsgroup on Usenet II
(see <http://www.usenet2.org/> for more info on Usenet II). In
addition to Rus's duties as HumourNet's Official List Chaplain, he's
also the official "THIS is TRUE" pastor for Randy Cassingham's list
<http://www.thisistrue.com/>. Rus recently released a book entitled,
"A Window Of Grace." And if he ever manages to move off his butt <g>,
Rus also has another book in the works -- this one on (you guessed
it!) religious humour.

And so, without further ado, may I introduce you to Rus Jeffrey, the
Official HumourNet List Chaplain, in the cyberflesh ...

</announcements>

Well, as Vince says, it worked. After reading the opener for Collage
391, I quickly repented and headed straight for my computer to write
an opener. Of course I'm still trying to get a mental image of Vince
actually *reading* the Bible. Who knows, it may even cause
nightmares of some sort.

So here I am, Pastor Rus, finally writing a Guest Moderator piece. As
you read in Collage 391, I've been planning/promising to do this
since October. But the life of a pastor can be pretty full with
tending to the flock and stuff like that. Not to mention the great
demands on my time in the role as "Official HumourNet Chaplain." Hey,
Vince can be a handful at times.

We start off with the question, "Does God have a sense of humor?"
Well, I *certainly* hope so! After all, He did call a guy like me
into ministry. Recently our Praise Band was talking about God and
humor before a service on Sunday. Our keyboard player pointed to
Psalm 2 -- "Heaven-throned God breaks out laughing." (The Message)
Many times I'm sure He looks at me and breaks out laughing. How many
times? Let me describe what we here at HQ HumourNet refer to as
"Sunday Morning Bloopers(tMS)" ...

Let's start with the proverbial slip of the lip. One Sunday morning,
while illustrating the scene of Jesus praying just before His death,
I described three disciples who kept falling asleep when they were
supposed to be praying. They had a case of what I call the "praying
nods." In the midst of the description I said, "Jesus went over to
them, kicked them in the side saying 'Wake up! The flesh is willing
but the spirit is weak!'" Some of the more alert Bible readers in the
congregation were quick to let me know after the service that I had
that backward.

Then there was the day I was preaching about "sexual immorality" from
one of the Apostle Paul's letters. I didn't spend a lot of time on
the subject -- and it's probably a good thing, too. After the
service, a man came up beside me, saying, "So preacher ... was that a
little wishful thinking on your behalf today?"

Looking rather confused I responded, "What are you talking about?"

"It's this way," he explained, "every time you meant to say 'sexual
immorality' you actually said 'sexual immortality.'"

Now I know why all those little old gray-haired ladies looked so
shocked!

0=:-o

Last, but certainly not least, I'll never forget one funeral message
from a few years ago.

The man had lived a long life. I knew his son because he and his
family attended the church. I'd met his dad only once. These are
difficult funerals to do because it's hard to know exactly what to
say. So, when in doubt, I do what any other pastor does when faced
with such a situation: I preached from that great Byrds song, "Turn,
Turn, Turn." You know the one -- come on now, let's all sing it
together:

    For everything, turn, turn, turn,
    There is a season, turn, turn, turn.
    A time to mourn, a time to laugh ...

Well, you get the picture. 

Turning to Ecclesiastes 3, I started with words of encouragement,
telling those gathered that life is full of seasons. It was a moving
message and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Then, coming to the
end of the message I asked the question, "How does one sum up life
from Solomon's words here in Ecclesiastes?"

Preparing to paraphrase Solomon's conclusion at the end of the book
by saying "Live life for God," the entire family (who attended the
church I was appointed to) started laughing! It was all I could do to
keep a straight face. I *knew* what they were thinking: Just a few
weeks prior to the funeral, I'd asked the same question in a Sunday
morning message and that's what they were remembering.

But the version I'd used then was: "Life sucks and then you die."

So, there you have it -- Part One of "Sunday Morning Bloopers(tMS)."
There may be more installments to follow; I guess it all depends on
how much guilt, or how many scare tactics, Vince uses on me in the
future.

[Editor's Comment: Or how much we make on the unsub fees. ;-) </vs>]

Many thanks to our contributors to this Collage:

Cynthia in Denver, Colorado, for "What is Easter?"

Valerie in Mountain View, California, for "Comprehending God."

Rose M. for "Teamwork" (one of Vince's all-time favorites).

Lorraine in Katy, Texas, for "If College Students Had Written The
Bible."

Randy Cassingham in Boulder, Colorado, for "Paybacks Are Hell" and
"Good Deed for the Day."

and Hy in Redundant Beach, California, for an "Audience With The
Pope."

Remember, God does have a sense of humor -- and you can count on this:
Somewhere, sometime and somehow, "Heaven-throned God will break out
laughing." (Psalm 2:4)

Enjoy!

- Pastor Rus
  HumourNet Guest Moderator

____________________________________________________________________
          Opener (above) Copyright 1998 by Vincent Sabio
  Permission is hereby granted to forward or post this "Collage";
  please observe the guidelines stated at the end of the message.
____________________________________________________________________

SUBJ: What is Easter?

Three intellectually-challenged guys just died and are at the Pearly
Gates of Heaven. St. Peter tells them that they can enter the gates
if they can answer one simple question.

St. Peter asks the first man, "WHAT IS EASTER?"

The man replies, "Oh, that's easy, it's the holiday in November when
everybody gets together, eats turkey, and is thankful..."

"WRONG," replies St. Peter, and proceeds to ask the second man the
same question, "WHAT IS EASTER?"

The second man replies, "No, Easter is the holiday in December when
we put up a nice tree, exchange presents, and celebrate the birth of
Jesus."

St. Peter looks at the second man, shakes his head in disgust, looks
at the third man and asks, "WHAT IS EASTER?"

The third man smiles and looks St. Pete in the eye.

"I know what Easter is. Easter is the Christian holiday that
coincides with the Jewish celebration of Passover. Jesus and his
disciples were eating at the last supper and He was later deceived
and turned over to the Romans by one of his disciples. The Romans
took Him to be crucified and stabbed Him in the side, made Him wear
a crown of thorns, and hung Him on a cross. He was buried in a
nearby cave which was sealed off by a large boulder. Every year the
boulder is moved aside so that Jesus can come out, and if He sees
his shadow there will be six more weeks of winter ..."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Comprehending God

A confused nine-year-old boy goes up to his mother and asks, "Is God
male or female?"

After thinking for a moment, his mother responds, "Well God is both
male and female."

This confuses the little boy, so he asks, "Is God black or white?"

"Well, God is both black and white."

This further confuses the boy so he asks, "Is God gay or straight?"

At this the mother is getting concerned, but answers none the less,

"Honey, God is both gay and straight."

At this the boy's face lights up with understanding and he
triumphantly asks...

"Is God Michael Jackson?"

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Teamwork

A guy named Joe finds himself in dire trouble. His business has gone
bust and he's in serious financial trouble. He's so desperate that
he decides to ask God for help. He begins to pray...

"God, please help me, I've lost my business and if I don't get some
money, I'm going to lose my house as well, please let me win the
lotto".

Lotto night comes and somebody else wins it.

Joe again prays...

"God, please let me win the lotto! I've lost my business, my house
and I'm going to lose my car as well".

Lotto night comes and Joe still has no luck.

Once again, he prays...

"My God, why have you forsaken me?? I've lost my business, my house,
and my car. My wife and children are starving. I don't often ask you
for help and I have always been a good servant to you. PLEASE just
let me win the lotto this one time so I can get my life back in
order ... "

Suddenly there is a blinding flash of light as the heavens open and
Joe is confronted by the voice of GOD himself:

"JOE, MEET ME HALF WAY ON THIS ONE ... BUY A FREAKING TICKET!"

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: If College Students Had Written The Bible

Top ten ways the Bible would have been different if it had been
written by college students ...

10. Loaves and Fishes replaced by Pizza and Chips

9. Ten Commandments are actually only five, but because they are
double-spaced and written in a large font, they look like ten.

8. Forbidden fruit would have been eaten because it wasn't dorm
food.

7. Paul's letters to the Romans become Paul's e-Mail to the Romans.

6. Reason Cain killed Abel: They were roommates.

5. The place where the end of the world occurs: Not the Plains of
Armageddon, but Finals Week.

4. Book of Armaments would be in there somewhere.

3. Reason why Moses and followers walked in desert for 40 years:
They didn't want to ask directions and look like Freshmen.

2. Tower of Babel blamed for Foreign Language requirement.

1. Instead of God creating the world in six days and resting on the
seventh, He would have put it off until the night before it was due
and then pulled an all-nighter and hoped no one noticed.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Paybacks Are Hell

The Pope, Billy Graham, and Oral Roberts were in a three-way plane
crash over the Atlantic Ocean. They all arrived the Pearly Gates
together.

"Oh! This is terrible!" exclaimed St. Peter. "I know you guys think
that we summoned you here, but this is just one of those
coincidences that happen. We were going to help all of you land once
you got where you were going." St. Peter was fretting. "Your
quarters just aren't ready. We can't take you in, but we can't send
you back."

Then he got an idea. He picked up the phone, "Lucifer, this is Pete.
Hey, I got these three guys up here. They're ours, but we weren't
expecting them and we gotta fix the place up for 'em. I was hoping
you could put them up for a while. It'll only be a couple of days.
I'll owe you one."

Reluctantly, the devil agreed.

Two days later...

"Pete, this is Lucifer. Hey, you gotta come get these three clowns."

"What's wrong?" asked St. Peter.

"Well, this Pope guy is forgiving everybody. This Graham fellow is
saving everybody. And this fella Roberts -- he's raising money to
buy a central air conditioning unit ..."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Audience With The Pope

A rich American tourist was holidaying in Rome, and was intent on
seeing the Pope. There he stood, in a big long queue with a rather
expensive suit on, hoping the Pope would notice how smart he was and
perhaps talk a few words with him.

As the Pope made his way slowly down the queue, he walked right past
the American, hardly even noticing him. The Pope then stopped next
to a low-life sot, leaned over and whispered something in the sot's
ear, and made his way on again.

This really angered the American. After speaking with the drunkard,
the American agreed to pay 1000 dollars to exchange clothing, in the
hope that the Pope would speak to him the next day.

The next morning the American stood in the queue, waiting to see the
Pope and hopefully exchange a few words. The Pope was making his way
slowly up to the American. When he finally reached him, he leaned
over to the American and spoke softly into his ear ...

"I thought I told you to get lost."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Good Deed for the Day

A guy is at the Pearly Gates, hoping to be admitted, and St. Peter
says to the guy, "I can't see that you did anything really good in
your life, but you never did anything bad either. I tell you what:
if you can tell me one REALLY good deed that you did, you're in."

So the guy says, "Once I was driving down the road and saw a gang of
bikers assaulting this poor girl. So I pulled over, got out my car,
grabbed a tire iron and walked straight up to the gang's leader -- a
huge ugly guy with a studded leather jacket, bald head but with hair
all over his body, and a chain running from his nose to his ear.

"Undaunted, I ripped the chain out of his nose and ear and smashed
him over the head with the tire iron. Then I turned around and,
wielding my tire iron, yelled to the rest of them, 'You leave this
poor, innocent lady alone! You're all a bunch of sick, deranged
animals! GO HOME BEFORE I TEACH YOU ALL A LESSON IN PAIN!'"

Impressed, St. Peter says, "Really? When did this happen?"

"Oh, about two minutes ago."

********************************************************************
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</collage393>


************************

Subject:     Collage 394: More From The Intellectual Proletariat
Date:        4/27/1998 2:52 AM
Received:    4/27/1998 11:27 AM
From:        HumourNet
To:          The Internet's Moderated Mailing List for Humour

Collage 394              H u m o u r N e t              27 Apr 1998

<announcements>

A few Collages ago, I threatened to bring back John Mozena as a guest
moderator to increase the unsubscription rate and thus bring in more
revenue from the Unsubscription Fees(tMS).

Well, an insufficient number of you unsubscribed, so now the rest of
you are stuck with John. Could be worse, though; you could be stuck
with *me* ...

Anyway, let me welcome John Mozena back for his *second* (oh, how
will he ever survive the embarrassment?) HumourNet Guest Moderator
spot.

Enjoy!

- Vince

</announcements>

Well, you've all gone and done it. Not enough of you unsubscribed
when Vince suggested raising the unsubscription fee, so he has
followed through on his threat to have me guest moderate another
Collage. Strap in and hang on, since you can't get out now.

I suppose I'm at least partly to blame for the scarcity of Collages
these days, as I keep on introducing Vince to new areas of the Net
that contain a lower-than-normal quantity of stupid people. Since he
gets a full dose of stupidity in e-mail from some of the more
intellectually-challenged HumourNetters, in addition to the normal
collection of idiots and fools we all deal with in everyday life
(your mileage may vary if you're employed by a government agency),
poor Vince is always looking for the net.equivalent of fresh air,
unencumbered by the bleatings of idiots, fools and AOLers. (Yes, I
know that's redundant and repetitive.)

You've already gotten one example, when Vince mentioned the Hallowed
Cult of Father Darwin Mailing List. We're almost done digesting (in
some cases literally) the last dose of subscribers, so you'll just
have to figure out on your own how to find it. To quote Larry Niven
and Jerry Pournelle, "Think of it as evolution in action."

Another example is Usenet II <http://www.usenet2.org>, where Vince is
the net.humor Czar. This means he's actually got formal permission to
be an utter bastard in the name of humo[u]r. Unfortunately, this
*does* mean he has to give up his amateur status, but he's looking
forward to the endorsements.

I hear any number of prophylactic manufacturers want to use him as a
poster child, for instance. As a warning of what can happen.

So, in a form of penance for turning Vince's attention away from
HumourNet, I bring you a Stupid People Collage.

I spend my free time taunting stupid people. It's easy work, but the
rewards are endless. (In that sense, it's kinda like being a U.S.
Senator.) Plus, you're never lacking for material -- to misquote
SubGenius icon J.R. "Bob" Dobbs, "You know how dumb the average
person is? Well, by definition, half of 'em are dumber than *that*."

Now, I'm not talking about people who just aren't really bright, but
have some common sense and live their lives in recognition of the
fact that they're just not going to ever shake the King of Sweden's
hand or get a telegram from the Pulitzer committee. I'm talking about
people who might have advanced degrees, but never bother to buckle
their seatbelts or vote in elections. To quote a wise and anonymous
man, "Yes, eat the willfully ignorant. Just use good table manners."

If you ask me (and I know you didn't, but it's your fault for
subscribing to this list and then not unsubscribing when the fees
were nearly raised), environmentalists have it all wrong. The biggest
threat to our world isn't the Raymond Burr-sized hole in the ozone
layer, or internal combustion engines, or nuclear waste or even the
Spice Girls. It's stupidity.

[Editor's Note: *Wrong-O*, John. It's the Spice Girls. </vs>]

Stupidity brought us things like Three Mile Island, Chernobyl,
CFC-laden hair spray cans, Michael Jackson and New Jersey. Stupid
people, in addition to the dumb things they do that are merely
annoying, often rise to positions of power from which they can do
dumb things that screw up stuff for the rest of us who are too smart
to, say, build biological weapons, no matter how much we don't like
somebody. (viz. Jesse Helms and Saddam Hussein)

My point (I have one, I swear) is this: As we laugh at the amusing
antics of the stupid people whose tomfoolery is presented below for
your amusement, just remember that somewhere, there's somebody even
stupider than our heroes below who works for the Department of
Energy, the Department of Defense, NASA, the CIA, the EPA, your
town's Department of Sanitation, your child's school, your grocery
store or your accountant's office. And they're trying to help you or
protect you.

Emigrate now.

Credits for today's Collage:

Capt. Chris P, Colorado Springs, Colorado: "Gravity Sucks"

Don M., Chicago, Illinois: "Genetic Defects"

Barbara C. in Adelphi, Maryland: "Shandong, Sichuan, Syrian -- It's
All The Same Thing"

Steve D. in Ashland, Oregon: "Dream Date for Short Men"

Tim O., Chicago, Illinois: "But He'll Be Making $40 Million a Year
Soon"

Randy Cassingham in Boulder, Colorado: "But The Canadians Have Very
Poor Statistics On Taiwan"

Eric W.: "Physics According to Business Majors"

Ted W. in Cincinnati, Ohio: "Adventures of the 'Clue Unencumbered'"

Art M., Pompton Lakes, New Jersey: "Too Bad We Won The War"

Lori B. in Atlanta, Georgia: "Ca-Ka Jones"

Russ R., Corinth, Texas: "Express Math"

Ed C. in El Cerrito, California: "The Importance of Not Being Heard."

Big round of applause for our contributors! Enjoy ...

- John Mozena
  HumourNet Guest Moderator

____________________________________________________________________
          Opener (above) Copyright 1998 by John Mozena
  Permission is hereby granted to forward or post this "Collage";
  please observe the guidelines stated at the end of the message.
____________________________________________________________________

SUBJ: Gravity Sucks

The following story comes from the naval safety center commander,
COMNAVSAFECEN, Rear Admiral F.M. DIRREN JR. The incident involved two
civilians employed by the Navy to maintain the grounds of a naval
base.

While he didn't actually climb out on a limb then saw the limb off
behind him, this grounds keeper did the next best thing and got
pretty much the same results. Properly bedecked with all the required
safety gear, our hero leaned his ladder against the offending limb,
then turned to brief his helper on the precise manner in which he
wanted his ladder tended while he performed this delicate surgery.
That completed, he yanked his chainsaw into consciousness, ("BAR-UUM!
BA-DA-BA-DA! BRUUM! BAR-UUM!") and scrambled up the ladder, trailing
oily-blue smoke and noise behind him as he rose.

Once up there, he checked his clearances, made sure there was no one
standing underneath, checked his goggles, checked his gloves,
adjusted his hardhat, checked his ladder-holder one more time, gave
his saw a couple of anticipatory BAR-RUMM! BA-DA-BA'S, then he draped
it across that big old saggy limb and he commenced to wail.

"RA-OOM! RA-OOM! WRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

MY GOODNESS! He laid into that thing with a vengeance and, before you
knew it, a huge piece of that big old limb that had been hanging down
there -- getting in every body's way -- creaked loudly, groaned some,
broke off and crashed gracefully to the ground below. Just, I must
add, as the rest of the branch -- suddenly unburdened of a great deal
of weight -- went "SPROING!" And snapped smartly back to its
previously near-vertical position. Which is to say that it, more or
less, popped itself out from underneath the guy ... with the chain
saw ... on the ladder. And he found himself, more or less, leaning
against the atmosphere which, at an altitude of twelve feet or so,
offers precious little resistance to guys standing on ladders holding
chainsaws.

Well, the ladder went one way and the tree trimmer went another. And
the ladder-holder? Well, he didn't know which way to go so he just
sort of stood there with his mouth open as the ladder landed next to
him and the tree trimmer landed on top of him.

You know, that ladder holder fits my definition of a true friend --
someone you can always count on to be there for you when you're
looking for a place to crash.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Genetic Defects

My son and his girlfriend were watching the news during the Gulf War.
They were showing a clip of a "Smart Bomb" being released from a
plane and traveling straight into the target with the TV camera in
the nose of the bomb picking up everything right up to the point of
impact. Whereupon, she (a blonde of course) turned to my son and
asked, "I wonder how they get the film back?"

He thought this was pretty funny so he told the story to her mother
and brother later that day. Upon finishing the story, he laughed and
was joined by the mother and brother. The brother then asked, "Well!!
How *do* they get the film back?"

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Shandong, Sichuan, Syrian -- It's All The Same Thing

One of my college classmates was a Muslim engineer from Syria. A
couple of us decided Nuri was culturally deprived because he'd never
had an Easter basket. (Not surprising since Muslims don't celebrate
Easter.) We weren't deterred by that little factoid and put a big
Easter goodie basket together then looked for someone he didn't know
to deliver it while we were in class.

I knew a Nursing student who had a great body so we decided to
embellish the event by having her dress up as a Playboy version of
the Easter bunny. Needless to say, class attendance was perfect that
day. Diane knocked on the door and asked loudly for Nuri. She stepped
through the door just as he walked up. Poor guy looked like he walked
into a glass wall -- his eyes bulged and jaw dropped. Diane hammed it
up and did a cute presentation of the Easter basket while Nuri
struggled to keep his eyes above her shoulders. She concluded by
saying, "Gee, you don't look at all Chinese."

Nuri looked baffled and replied, "Of course not, I'm Syrian."

When I asked her later where the Chinese question came from, she said
she thought Syria was a province in China.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Dream Date for Short Men

I recently walked into a Subway shop here in Chicago, ready for one
of those 12" meatball sandwiches. The dialog went something like
this...

[Editor's Note: In the spirit of Collage 357, "CL" refers to the
"Clue-Challenged" (ClueLess) individual in the exchange. </vs>]

CL: Can I help you?

Me: How about one of those 12 inch meatball subs.

CL: We only serve 6 inch and foot-long subs.

??????? <resisting the urge to comment on her ignorance> ??????

Me: Okay, how about a foot-long meatball sub then.

After she hands me the sandwich...

[smart-a** mode on]

Me: Wow, that thing must be twice the size of a 6 inch.

CL: Just about.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: But He'll Be Making $40 Million a Year Soon ...

While attending undergrad my cousin took a job as an athletic trainer
for a high school football team.

Notes:
Public School
Public School in Cleveland
Public School in Cleveland on the East Side

Being relatively young, compared to the coaches, the team would
confide their gripes with my cousin. One member of the team
complained that the coach always extended practice 10 minutes longer
than scheduled. My cousin was confused; the coach kept a very tight
schedule and was always on time. My cousin asked the player why he
was upset with the coach.

The player replied, "Coach said the practice would be over at quarter
to six -- but practice never ends until 5:45." My cousin then tried
to explain that quarter to six *is* 5:45. The player replied "Quarter
to six is 25 to six or 5:35." At which point my cousin gave up on the
conversation, not wanting to give a lesson on fractions and time and
measurement.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: But The Canadians Have Very Poor Statistics On Taiwan

I was involved in doing usability testing of a "One Stop Shopping"
for federal statistics Web site that just went public a couple of
weeks ago. (Check it out at <http://www.fedstats.gov/>!) We're
getting user feedback (would love to have some from any of y'all who
try the site), and some of it is hilarious. But this comment from one
gal in Medicine Hat, Canada, took the prize for me. She said:

    Although I found this page interesting, it wasn't really what
    I was expecting, it is just really a regurgitation of
    statistics. But I suppose I can't expect a ton of information
    from a government page. Also, the statistics that I looked at
    only applied to Americans, I am Canadian. This was probably
    the most disappointing thing on this page.

So let me get this straight: A Web site that advertises itself as a
source of *United States Federal statistics* is disappointing because
(a) it only delivers statistics -- not "information" -- and (b) it's
restricted to the U.S.

Wellll, excuuuuse us for living, Ms. Medicine Hat!!

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Physics According to Business Majors

Your little story a couple of collages ago about the friend who drove
*real* slow with his new car to save the miles reminded me of an
incident in college. Traveling eastbound on the Ohio Turnpike, just
past Toledo, we drove past a sign that read:

    NEW YORK

    490 Miles
    789 Kilmoeters

    Via Turnpikes

My friend, a man almost done with his undergraduate studies at a Big
Ten university, looked at me and said, "See, that's why I hope we
never go to the Metric System; it'll take so much longer to get to
places."

I hope he never procreates.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Adventures of the "Clue Unencumbered"

I recently refinanced my auto loan to secure a lower interest rate.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.

After spending 20 minute or so with the helpful management-type from
my bank filling out forms, we had all the paperwork done. At this
point, she told me I should walk the pay-off check down to the
original bank so no more interest would accrue. I said that would be
no problem as the bank was only 3 blocks away. She then informed me
that she could submit the copies of the paperwork to her bank to
forward to the original bank, or I could also take these down the
street with me and the whole thing would be finished. I, being an
efficiency-minded kinda guy, told her I'd take the paperwork with me.

<begin stupidity>

I got to the original bank and sat down with their management-type
(and I use the term loosely). The conversation went something like
this:

ME: I want to pay off my auto loan. I have the check from my home
bank and the paperwork for your files.

CL: You can just take the check to one of the tellers, and we don't
need the paperwork. Your bank will send the copies we need to our
corporate office.

ME: Actually, these are the copies that my bank would be sending. i
just brought then with me.

CL: We don't need those papers here.

ME: I know they don't stay at this branch, but they need to be sent
to your corporate office.

CL: Your bank will send the copies our corporate office needs for
filing.

ME: No, no. These are those copies. There aren't any other copies of
these forms to be forwarded. These are they.

CL: But we don't need those here...

ME: YES, I KNOW THAT. I brought the copies with me so they wouldn't
have to be sent. Your corporate office needs these actual pieces of
paper on file. Here they are.

CL: No, your bank will send our corporate office the copies they need
for filing.

ME: I just have to give this check to the teller?

CL: Yes (please note the friendly, oblivious smile on the
Management-Type's face even at this point)

ME: Thank you.

I then kindly paid the teller, received my receipt, and walked back
to my bank to return the forms so they could be forwarded through
several unnecessary stops to the bank I had just left.

So many idiots, so few comets.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Too Bad We Won The War

I swear this is a true story...

While working a T-Shirt booth at a recent car show in Memphis, I
noticed the cash box was very low on singles. I quickly proceeded to
ask a local food vendor next to our booth for some change. Holding up
a $5 bill, I asked, "Do you have 5 singles for a five?"

The lady behind the counter looked up at me with that 'HUH?!?' look.
I asked again ... only to receive that same blank stare.

The guy working the fryer behind her turned around and said, "You
ain't from around here, are ya?"

(He was right about that. I'm from New York, but what in the world
did that have to do with me getting some change?)

He tapped the lady on her shoulder and said, "He means five ones."
"OOh!" she responded and kindly gave me the change.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Ca-Ka Jones

I loved the recent "DUH award" Collage {Collage 157]. The
F-as-in-Frank story reminded me of a time I was working over the
summer break from law school just for a few weeks before my (unpaid)
clerkship started doing gruntwork for a to-be-left-unnamed worldwide
organization that did all kinds of good deeds and had membership all
over the world. The one thing it didn't do well was hire bright
staff.

I was working in the department that was in charge of handling the
membership records, changing names, and addresses, and updating our
files if someone passed away, etc. The person put in charge of me was
easily Level II Stupid.

So one day we get in this change of address card from someone who
obviously (to me anyway) couldn't remember if she had changed her
name with our organization when she married (or divorced, I guess).
So when she wrote her name, she put "Jane Smith (AKA Jones)" -- only
she inadvertently left out the close parenthesis at the end of Jones,
so it was written "(AKA Jones."

Well, there was widespread panic: What did this mean -- CAKA Jones? I
looked at the card and explained what it was -- parenthesis, Also
Known As, her maiden name, and then a failure to write the close
parenthesis.

No one believed me. Supervisors were called over. The Level II DUH
honoree who was in CHARGE of ME was directed by HER supervisor to
actually call this woman to ask what CAKA Jones meant.

I cringed in embarrassment as I listened to this phone call, and I
didn't even have to make it.

Sigh. Amazing more people don't drown in the rain.

----------[ H U M O U R N E T ]----------

SUBJ: Going By The Book

Then there is the time that I was 12 years old and tried to get a
public library card, and they said I couldn't because I had no
picture ID. When I said I was TWELVE and therefore could NOT have a
picture ID, they said a credit card bill or tax bill would suffice. I
had some mail and magazines addressed to me, and my bus pass with my
address, but this was not enough. Finally my Dad wrote a letter
swearing I was who I said I was, and that he was my legal and
biological father, and they should issue me a library card before I
resort to a life of crime by stealing books.

And they wonder why kids don't read more.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Express Math

I have no idea which level of stupidity this woman fits into, so I'm
not even going to guess. It's important to remember that this a true
story ...

I was in an unspecified grocery store a few months ago and saw a
short middle-aged woman with a heaping cart, full of one of
everything in the store, walk up to the express lane, which is 1 to
15 items only[1]. She walks up and stands under the sign, leans over
to look up and read it, then looks down at her basket, as though she
were counting. She then looks at the sign again, then at the basket.
Sign ... Basket. I suppose she finished counting everything in the
cart, as she kind of walked off toward the aisles again.

The thing is, the express lane was closed.

[1] Come to think of it, the sign actually reads "1 to 15 items or
less only."

[Editor's Note: She was probably trying to decide if she had less
than 1 to 15 items ... </vs>]

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: The Importance of Not Being Heard

When I was in college at UC Berkeley, I clerked at a liquor store in
South Berkeley. It was prom season, so we were alert for eighteen-
year-olds trying to pass themselves off as twenty-one-year-olds. This
young, gentlemen entered (I immediately thought "seventeen"), his
hair all gooped up, his ruffled prom shirt on, and he selected two
bottles of champagne.

He noticed my tee shirt and asked, "UCSB. Do you go there?"

I replied, "No, my brother gave it to me."

His comment: "I'm going there next year!"

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</collage394>


************************

Subject:     Collage 395: We're Baaaack!!!
Date:        6/7/1998 2:35 PM
Received:    6/7/1998 3:26 PM
From:        HumourNet
To:          The Internet's Moderated Mailing List for Humour

Collage 395              H u m o u r N e t              07 Jun 1998

<announcements>

I am proud to announce that HumourNet now has an ASSISTANT LISTMOM
(that is, a "list manager") to help me manage the user side of the
list. The new guy is hardly new -- his name is Marc Wolfe, and he
hails from the records management (RECMGT) mailing list. (Few
mailing lists have descriptions that sound even HALF as boring as
"records management" -- but at least they seem to be aware of this
fact.)

Marc has a good deal of list management experience, a good sense of
humour, a sharp wit, a Swiss bank account, and an ability to extort
money from unsuspecting newbies. Thus, he was eminently qualified
for the position. Let's gi