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Archive for the ‘Humour’ Category

guys.jpgTen things I learnt/observed (not necessarily first hand) in a sports bar while watching South Africa beat Whales over the weekend. In no particular order…

    1. When your team plays rugby, do not invent a drinking game that is based on the number of points they score. 34 -12 is not necessarily a good score.
    2. There is nothing romantic about drunk dialing at 1:30 on a Sunday morning, especially not when your mates are yelling “he tried to pick up a hooker” in the background. Don’t ever say the words “I just wanted to know how you are.” Trust me, don’t. Not at 1:30 am.
    3. Cheap is just unforgivable. If you claim to have left your wallet at home when it is your turn to pay, then you are a cheapskate and you are stupid! I can handle stupid when I’m forced to. Cheap? No!!
    4. Life is often like a staged play. Masks and make-up and shadow puppets, and then some. Never buy a drink for a guy who says he went to school with older brother, and when probed about it ten minutes later, can’t remember your brother’s name.
    5. Factoid: A two at ten is a ten at two. When your mate says, “Hey, you want to meet a hot chick?”, do not try to convince him that she’s not. Let him wake up next to her the next morning and find out the hard truth for himself.
    6. There is no such thing as public indecency at 2 am on a Sunday morning. The cops may disagree, but they have to be around to catch you in the act.
    7. When a girl wears a green t-shirt that says “I’m a keeper”, it usually means that she is not, unless it refers to the fact that she can “keep” her liquor down better than you can.
    8. When your team scores a try, do not throw your hands in the air and jump up out of your chair at the same time. There is no dignity in falling backwards and landing on your arse. Not even when you are drunk.
    9. When a guy throws a shitfit about a decision the referee made, let him be. He is bigger than you are and will pound you into the ground with one swing of his giant fist. Nobody’s perfect. Accept it.
    10. It is indeed possible for your hair to hurt when you are hung-over. (I learnt this the next day.)

Ain’t life grand?

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Slut?Overheard this conversation between the gf, [S] and one of her friends.

Friend: I like everything about this guy. Pity, I don’t stand a chance with him.
[S]: Of course you do. You are being too hard on yourself.
Friend: The only reason a guy like him would go out with a girl like me is because he thinks I’m a slut.
[S]: Well there you have it. Prove him right… then prove him wrong.

I don’t need to worry, do I?

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Train trackIn the line at the cafeteria…

Girl: I’m reading a very interesting book on male/female sexuality right now.
Guy (obviously bored): Uh-huh…
Girl: Anyway… the author says that the chemical make-up of the male brain is totally different from that of the female brain, and that a woman’s brain contains about 10 times more white matter related to general intelligence than a man’s…. [stops talking]
(Annoyed) You know, I don’t think you’ve listened to a word I’ve said in the last two minutes. You are probably only thinking about the beer in your fridge and some girl you met in a bar last week whom you want to have sex with.
Guy: Huh? All I heard was beer and sex.… the rest flew past me like fire engines on their way to a crash site.
Girl (perplexed): Yeah, I can hear the echo of their sirens bouncing around in your skull.
Guy: Are you saying I have a one-track mind?
Girl: Yes, and there are 2 only stops… Beerville and Sextopia.

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I work with aliens

Overheard in the tea-room
Guy 1: I couldn’t make it to this morning’s status meeting. Did I miss anything important?
Guy 2: Nah, you didn’t miss much. Every time someone said something, it was like in one brain and out the other.

Gives new meaning to the term schizophrenic, don’t you agree?

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Measuring tapeIt was pretty much a given that my nephew Keenan would do something during our holiday trip that would embarrass me and put me on the spot.
He‘d been milking the whole “Dad” thing for days. Even though I found it endearing in a funny sort of way, I just knew that he was going to use it at some point to drive me to distraction.
At around the third day of the trip, we were at a local supermarket buying provisions for an overnight stay at one of the many self- catering lodges in the area.
I had planned the trip at short notice and had difficulty finding accommodation that catered for both bed and breakfast. It was no big deal. Cooking up a breakfast before we headed out for the day and was the least of my worries. Self-catering accommodation was relatively cheap in comparison and it pretty much allowed us the freedom to do our own thing. (The cooking classes finally paid off)
So we are in the supermarket (superette), and he is standing in the queue (holding our place in the line) while [S] and I are rummaging around for dairy and meat products. (Bacon, eggs, sausages, milk, tomatoes, mushrooms, fruit juice, corn flakes, etc.)
He is almost at the front of the queue, when he turns around and calls out to me.

He (loudly): Hey, dad?!
Me (I cringe immediately, but decide to play along): Yes, son.
He (clears throat): I am a little short on money. If I throw in a box of condoms, would you mind paying for it?

[Curse the seven gods of the Roman pantheon!]
Everyone I the shop goes silent and looks in my direction. This is rural South Africa. We are not in the city. People out here are conservative and live by different values. I nearly pee’d myself.
I curse under my breath and make mental note to poison his food that night. I also know that the is basically testing me (judging by the large innocent grin on his face) and merely trying to rev me up. I needed to stay calm and answer very carefully.

Me: I don’t know, son. Do you really think that’s necessary?
He (devilish grin): Well, you’ve always told me to be prepared and I just want to make sure I am.
Me: Uh… ok… but I doubt you’ll find anything that will suit your purpose in here.
He: Why not?
Me (matter of fact): Well, last time I checked, they don’t make condoms for the EXTRA SMALL.

A few people, including the cashier behind the till, started giggling. Keenan’s face was the colour of an overcooked lobster. He was beat. If he tried to argue the point by saying that he is not small, he would only come across as being defensive.
I felt sorry for him, but when you open the door you should expect that a truck to come driving trough it.
[S] dumped whatever groceries she had on her into my arms and left the shop. “You two are going to be the death of me yet”, she said as she walked outside. I knew she was dying to laugh out loud.
I may have won this round, but I knew he was not going to rest until he gets his revenge.

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CollisionIt does not happen every day that you feel the need to (or even want to) use the punchline from a lame, politically incorrect joke in a real life situation.
Yet something happened this afternoon when I got into my car to see a client, that compelled me to do just that. It was not so much that I was compelled, but at the time I just could not think of something better/wittier to say.
I was pulling my car out of a parking bay at the office when I reversed into a car passing by behind me. Admittedly I was in a bit of a hurry, but I had checked for traffic/obstacles before I put the car into gear. A white Opel Corsa Lite seemed to appear out of nowhere. It really did!
My car lightly scraped the rear bumper of the other car. Apart from a bit of paint transfer it was not serious. Nothing that a bit of rubbing compound/car polish could not take care of.
No amount of apologising and goodwill on my part could persuade the driver not to involve our respective insurance companies. He insisted on taking down my details and on going though the proper channels.
I guess one can’t be too careful these days, but shouldn’t common sense prevail at the end of the day? I can only imagine what the excess payment is going to be like. Probably more than what it will cost to remove the offending paint smudge.
While I wrote my details on the back of a business card, he stomped around breathing heavily. The guy was pissed off alright. One would swear I had just totaled his car. Obviously he does not take life’s little challenges very well.
The odd thing about him was that he was severely vertically challenged. He was probably no more than 4ft tall. I could easily argue that he was so small that he could barely see over the dashboard of his car.

He: I’m not happy
Me (annoyed): No shit, dude. So which one of the remaining six are you exactly?

I don’t think he realised the full implications of the comment I made. If he had, he surely would have agreed that Grumpy would have been a more apt description.

[Disclaimer: The post is not intended to be in bad taste. Sometimes life is stranger than fiction]

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I thought bean counters/auditors were all about gray suits, brown shoes, prescription glasses, strange haircuts and… looking like… erm…  Matt Damon. Seems I was wrong. They do know how to have fun, albeit in a somewhat dorky way.
Gordon Gekko would never have approved. Hilarious.
I bet they can give us a full breakdown of how much it cost them (down to the very last cent) in man hours to put this dance routine together.

Price Waterhouse Coopers – China

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