Task 1: Read with Elbows on Knees
Brain Cramps by Famous People
Quotes made by famous people without much thought...
On September 17, 1994, Alabama's Heather Whitestone was selected as Miss America 1995. Here's her answer to her question...
Question: If you could live forever, would you and why?
Answer: "I would not live forever, because we should not live forever, because if we were supposed to live forever, then we would live forever, but we cannot live forever, which is why I would not live forever." -- Heather Whitestone
"Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that, but not with all those flies and death and stuff." -- Mariah Carey
"Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life." -- Brooke Shields, during an interview to become Spokesperson for federal anti-smoking campaign.
"Outside of the killings, Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in the country." -- Mayor Marion Barry, Washington, DC.
"I'm not going to have some reporters pawing through our papers. We are the president." -- Hillary Clinton commenting on the release of subpoenaed documents.
"That lowdown scoundrel deserves to be kicked to death by a jackass, and I'm just the one to do it." -- A congressional candidate in Texas.
"It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it." -- Al Gore, Vice President
"I love California. I practically grew up in Phoenix." -- Dan Quayle
"We've got to pause and ask ourselves: How much clean air do we need?" -- Lee Iacocca
"We don't necessarily discriminate. We simply exclude certain types of people." -- Colonel Gerald Wellman, ROTC Instructor.
"If we don't succeed, we run the risk of failure." -- Bill Clinton, President
"Traditionally, most of Australia's imports come from overseas." -- Keppel Enderbery
"Your food stamps will be stopped effective March 1992 because we received notice that you passed away. May God bless you. You may reapply if there is a change in your circumstances." -- Department of Social Services, Greenville, South Carolina
"If somebody has a bad heart, they can plug this jack in at night as they go to bed and it will monitor their heart throughout the night. And the next morning, when they wake up dead, there'll be a record." -- Mark S. Fowler, FCC Chairman
A Cowboy Named Bud
-- Author Unknown
A cowboy named Bud was overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous
pasture in California when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced toward
him out of a cloud of dust.
The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, RayBan sunglasses
and YSL tie, leaned out the window and asked the cowboy, "If I tell you
exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, Will you
give me a calf?"
Bud looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully
grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure, Why not?"
The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects
it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the
Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his
location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the
area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.
The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and
exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg , Germany .
Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image
has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL
database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email on his
Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response..
Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his
hi-tech,miniaturized HP LaserJet printer, turns to the cowboy and says,
"You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves."
"That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves," says Bud.
He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on with
amusement as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.
Then Bud says to the young man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what
your business is, will you give me back my calf?"
The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why
"You're a Congressman for the U..S. Government", says Bud.
"Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?"
"No guessing required." answered the cowboy. "You showed up here even
though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already
knew, to a question I never asked. You used millions of dollars worth of
equipment trying to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you
don't know a thing about how working people make a living - or about
cows, for that matter. This is a herd of sheep. ....
Now give me back my dog.
96-Year-Old Bank Note
The following is an actual letter that was sent to a bank by a 96 year-old woman. The bank manager thought it amusing enough to have it published in the New York Times.
To whom it may concern,
I am writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I endeavored
to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, three nanoseconds must
have elapsed between his depositing the check and the arrival in my
account of the funds needed to honor it. I refer, of course, to the
automatic monthly transfer of funds from my modest savings account, an
arrangement which, I admit, has been in place for only thirty-one years.
You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and
also for debiting my account $30 by way of penalty for the inconvenience
caused to your bank.
My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused
me to rethink my errant financial ways. I noticed that whereas I
personally attend to your telephone calls and letters, when I try to
contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, overcharging,
pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has recently become. From
now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-blood person.
My mortgage and loan repayments will therefore and hereafter no longer be
automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed personally
and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate.
Be aware that it is an offense under the Postal Act for any other person
to open such an envelope.
Please find attached an Application Contact Status form which I require
your chosen employee to complete. I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but
in order that I know as much about him or her as your bank knows about
me, there is no alternative. Please note that all copies of his or her
medical history must be countersigned by a Notary Public, and the
mandatory details of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets
and liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof. In due course,
I will issue your employee with a PIN number which he/she must quote in
dealings with me. I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but,
again, I have modeled it on the number of button presses required of me
to access my account balance on your phone bank service. As they say,
imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
Please allow me to level the playing field even further. When you call
me, you will now have a menu of options on my new voice mail system to
Please press the buttons as follows:
- To make an appointment to see me.
- To query a missing payment.
- To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there.
- To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping.
- To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature.
- To transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home.
- To leave a message on my computer, a password to access my computer is required. Password will be communicated to you at a later date to the Authorized Contact.
- To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7.
To make a general complaint or inquiry. The contact will then be put on
hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service. While this
may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for
the duration of the call. Regrettably, but again following your example,
I must also levy an establishment fee of $50 to cover the setting up of
this new arrangement. Please credit my account after each occasion.
May I wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous, New Year.
Your Humble Client...
(Remember: This was written by a 96 year old woman)
An atheist created a case in court against the upcoming Easter and Passover holy days. He hired an attorney to bring a discrimination case against Christians, Jews and observances of their holy days. The argument was that it was unfair that atheists had no such recognized days.
The case was brought before a judge. After listening to the passionate presentation by the lawyer, the judge banged his gavel declaring, "Case dismissed!"
The lawyer immediately stood objecting to the ruling saying, "Your honor, how can you possibly dismiss this case? The Christians have Christmas, Easter and others. The Jews have Passover, Yom Kippur and Hanukkah, yet my client and all other atheists have no such holiday."
The judge leaned forward in his chair saying, "But you do. Your client, counsel, is woefully ignorant. The calendar says April 1st is April Fools Day. Psalm 14:1 states, 'The fool says in his heart, there is no God.' Thus, it is the opinion of this court, that if your client says there is no God, then he is a fool. Therefore, April 1st is his day. Court is adjourned."
When Grandma Goes To Court... Look Out!
Lawyers should never ask a Grandma a question if they aren't prepared for the answer.
In a trial in Mississippi, a Southern small-town prosecuting attorney called his first witness to the stand... a grandmotherly, elderly woman. He approached her and asked, "Mrs. Jones, do you know me?"
She responded, "Why, yes, I do know you, Mr. Williams. I've known you since you were a boy, and frankly you've been a big disappointment to me. You lie, you cheat on your wife, and you manipulate people and talk about them behind their backs. You think you're a big shot, when you haven't got the brains to realize you'll never amount to anything more than a two-bit paper pusher. Yes, I know you."
The lawyer was stunned. Not knowing what else to do, he pointed across the room and asked, "Mrs. Jones, do you know the defense attorney?"
She again replied, "Why yes, I do. I've known Mr. Bradley since he was a youngster, too. He's lazy, bigoted, and he has a drinking problem. He can't build a normal relationship with anyone, and his law practice is one of the worst in the entire state... not to mention, he cheated on his wife with three different women. One of them was your wife. Yes, I know him."
The defense attorney nearly died on the spot.
The judge asked both counselors to approached the bench and, in a very quiet voice, said... "If either of you idiots asks her if she knows me, I'll send you both to the electric chair."
Dr. Seuss Explains Computers
-- Author Unknown
If a packet hits a pocket on a socket on a port,
and the bus is interrupted as a very last resort,
and the address of the memory makes your floppy disk abort,
then the socket packet pocket has an error to report.
If your cursor finds a menu item followed by a dash,
and the double-clicking icon puts your window in the trash,
and your data is corrupted 'cause the index doesn't hash,
then your situation's hopeless and your system's gonna crash!
If the label on the cable on the table at your house,
says the network is connected to the button on your mouse,
but your packets want to tunnel on another protocol,
that's repeatedly rejected by the printer down the hall,
and your screen is all distorted by the side effects of gauss,
so your icons in the window are as wavy as a souse,
then you may as well reboot and go out with a bang,
'cause as sure as I'm a poet, the sucker's gonna hang!
When the copy of your floppy's getting sloppy on the disk,
and the microcode instructions cause unnecessary risk,
then you have to flash your memory and you'll want to RAM your ROM.
Quickly turn off the computer, and be sure to tell your mom.
“Seriously, you need to hurry - I’m in a lot of pain.” I managed to say through gritted teeth.
“Wow, it’s that bad? What’s wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?”
How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you’re writhing in pain is because you have to fart?
Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.
People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it geeked out. The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced its way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I’m home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud. Not in a, “am I smelling something?” sort of way. More like a “is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?” sort of way.
Suddenly, I panicked. “Roll down the windows!” I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).
“What? Why?” Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.
“I can’t roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!”
“What’s going on?” Rob yells back to me, “Why are you….” then it hit him. I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, “Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!” he screamed.
“Roll down the windows!” As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.
It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.
Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows. We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of my dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.
We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way.
He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, “OK, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!” and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.