Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Pastimes : Laughter is the Best Medicine - Tell us a joke -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: taxikid who wrote (7720)	11/12/1998 9:34:00 AM
From: SIer formerly known as Joe B.	Respond to of 62578

Tom, Dick and Harry were in the pub enjoying a few quiet drinks one night, when they decided to get in on the weekly raffle. They bought five $1 tickets each, seeing it was for charity. The following week, when the raffle was drawn, they each won a prize. Tom won the first prize - a whole year's supply of gourmet spaghetti sauce. Dick was the winner of the second prize - six month's supply of extra-long gourmet spaghetti. Harry won the sixth prize - a toilet brush. When they met in the pub a week later, Harry asked the others how they were enjoying their prizes. "Great," said Tom. "I love spaghetti." "So do I," said Dick. "And how's the toilet brush, Harry?" "Not so good," Harry said, "I reckon I'll go back to paper..." ==================================================================== "Faith And Sports" A Jew, a Catholic and a Mormon were having drinks at the bar following an interfaith meeting. The Jew, bragging on his virility, said, "I have four sons. One more and I'll have a basketball team." The Catholic, pooh-poohed this accomplishment, stating, "That's nothing, boy. I have 10 sons! One more, and I'll have a football team." To which the Mormon replied, "You fellas ain't got a clue. I have 17 wives. One more, and I'll have a golf course." ============================================================= When You've Lost Your Cool -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- You know you've lost your status of "Cool" when: - You find yourself listening to talk radio. - You daughter says she got pierced and you look at her ears. - The pattern on your shorts and couch match. - You fondly remember your powder blue leisure suit. - Your wife buys a flannel nighty and you find that sexy. - You think "Tragically Hip" is when a middle-aged man gets a new sports car, hair piece and a 20 year old girlfriend. - You criticize the kids of today for their satanic suicide-inducing music, forgetting that you rocked to Alice Cooper and Black Sabbath. - You call the police on a noisy party next door instead of grabbing beer and joining them. - You turn down free tickets to a rock concert because you have to work the next day. - When grass is something that you cut, not cultivate. - When jogging is something you do to your memory. - Rocking all night means dozing off in your rocking chair. Sex becomes "all that foolishness." - Getting a little action means your prune juice is working. - All the cars behind you turn on their headlights. You remember the Rolling Stones as a rock group, not a corporation. - You bought your first car for the same price you paid for your son's new running shoes. - You actually ASK for your father's advice. - You don't know how to operate a fax machine or a VCR. - When someone mentions SURFING you picture waves and a surf board. ===================================================================== The Pretzel Hold -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Our story begins at the Olympics, specifically the wrestling event. It is narrowed down to the Russian or the American for the gold medal. Before the final match, the American wrestler's trainer came to him and said, "Now don't forget all the research we've done on this Russian. He's never lost a match because of this "pretzel" hold he has. Whatever you do, don't let him get you in this hold! If he does, you're finished!" The wrestler nodded in agreement. Now, to the match: The American and the Russian circled each other several times looking for an opening. All of a sudden the Russian lunged forward, grabbing the American and wrapping him up in the dreaded pretzel hold! A sigh of disappointment went up from the crowd, and the trainer buried his face in his hands for he knew all was lost. He couldn't watch the ending. Suddenly there was a scream, a cheer from the crowd, and the trainer raised his eye just in time to see the Russian flying up in the air. The Russian's back hit the mat with a thud, and the American weakly collapsed on top of him, getting the pin and winning the match. The trainer was astounded! When he finally got the American wrestler alone, he asks, "How did you ever get out of that hold? No one has ever done it before!" The wrestler answered, "Well, I was ready to give up when he got me in that hold, but at the last moment, I opened my eyes and saw this pair of balls right in front of my face. I thought I had nothing to lose, so with my last ounce of strength I stretched out my neck and bit those babies just as hard as I could. "So!" the trainer exclaimed, "that finished him off did it?" "No, but you'd be amazed how strong you get when you bite your own balls!"

To: taxikid who wrote (7720)	11/12/1998 11:50:00 AM
From: SIer formerly known as Joe B.	Read Replies (3) \| Respond to of 62578

Ken & Barbie Barbie's Letter To Santa: Dear Santa, Listen you fat little troll, I've been helping you out every year, playing at being the perfect Christmas Present,wearing skimpy bathing suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many tea parties, and I hate to break it to ya Santa, but IT'S DEFINITELY PAY BACK TIME! There had better be some changes around here this Christmas, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me, you won't wanna be around to smell it). So, here's my holiday wish list for 1998, Santa. 1. A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a hooker. How much smaller are these bathing suits gonna get? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and Velcro up your butt? 2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. Preferably white. What bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to my skin?!? It looks like cellulite! 3. A REAL man... maybe GI JOE. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that wimped-out excuse for a boytoy Ken. And what's with that earring anyway? If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me) anatomically correct. 4. Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct. 5. Breast reduction surgery. I don't care whose arm you have to twist, just get it done. 6. A jog-bra. To wear until I get the surgery. 7. A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How about a systems analyst? Or better yet, a public relations senior account exec! 8. A new, more 90's persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with aminiature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun, fitted witha fake fur coat, bottle of spray on blood and handcuffs; or "Stop Smoking Barbie," sporting a Nicotrol patch and equipped with several packs of gum. 9. No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl. 10. Mattel stock options. It's been 37 years-I think I deserve it. Okay Santa, that's it. Considering my valuable contribution to society, I don't think these requests are out of line. If you disagree, then you can find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas. It's that simple. Yours Truly, Barbie Ken's Letter To Santa: Dear Santa, I understand that one of my colleagues has petitioned you for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and career changes. In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging remarks were made about me, my ability to please, and some of my fashion choices. I would like to take this opportunity to inform you of some of issuesconcerning Ms.Barbie, and some of my own needs and desires. First of all, I along with several other colleagues feel Barbie DOES NOT deserve preferential treatment - the bitch has everything. I, along with Joe, Jem, Raggedy Ann & Andy, DO NOT have a dreamhouse, corvette, evening gowns, and in some cases the ability to change our hair style. I personally have only 3 outfits which I am forced to mix and match at great length. My decision to accessorize my outfits with an earring was my decision and reflects my lifestyle choice. I too would like a change in my career. Have you ever considered "Decorator Ken", "Beauty Salon Ken", or "Out Of Work Actor Ken"? In addition, there are several other avenues which could be considered such as: "S&M Ken" , "Green Lantern Ken", "Circuit Ken", "Bear Ken", "Master Ken". These would more accurately reflect my desires and perhaps open up new markets. And as for Barbie needing bendable arms so she can "push me away," I need bendable knees so I can kick the bitch to the curb. Bendable knees would also be helpful for me in other situations we've talked about this issue before. In closing, I would like to point out that any further concessions to the blond bimbo from hell will result in action be taken by myself and others. And Barbie can forget about having Joe - he's mine, at least that's what he said last night. Sincerely, Ken